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 https://archive.org/details/wingsonmyfeet01 heni 
 
SONJA HENIE 
 
WINGS ON MY FEET 
 
 W 
 
 A lew Y'ork: 1$>40 
 
 PRENTICE - HALL/ INC. 
 
Tftf/ 
 
 M&sh) 
 
 Copyright, 1940, by 
 PRENTICE-HALL, INC. 
 
 70 Fifth Avenue, New York. 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRO- 
 DUCED IN ANY FORM, BY MIMEOGRAPH OR ANY OTHER MEANS, 
 WITHOUT PERMISSION IN WRITING FROM THE PUBLISHERS. 
 
 First Printing October 1940 
 
 Second Printing December 1940 
 
 Third Printing January 1941 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
IWote 
 
 WHEN A MAN COMES UPON A CROWD STARING IN A SHOP 
 window, he usually cannot escape feeling that there must 
 be something there worth looking at. Reason perhaps urges 
 him that the object of attention is no more than the demon- 
 stration of some newborn gadget, or the antics of a rabbit, 
 but unless he goes and sees for himself, he inevitably finds 
 himself haunted by a feeling that he may have missed some- 
 thing. 
 
 At any rate, I have recently come upon the realization 
 that people have been staring at me for a long time. They 
 have wanted to know about my skating, and about me, 
 sometimes as a skater and sometimes as me. 
 
 People have been asking me questions about how one 
 gets to be a skater and how one gets to be a champion, for 
 years. Newspaper reporters, supposedly representing the 
 attitude of thousands of readers, have been asking ques- 
 tions about my private life longer than I care to remember. 
 
 Suddenly one day this spring I saw myself in the shop 
 window, so to speak, and the crowd around. Evidently 
 there were things about the skater, Sonja Henie, that people 
 found worth peering to find out. 
 
 v 
 
 52379 
 
If the things about skating that I can tell are of interest 
 to others, I am more than glad to give them out. I suppose 
 they are, because it has been my sole occupation to know 
 about skating for a great many years, and there is no doubt 
 that thousands of people would love it as I do if they 
 knew more about it. If there are things about my life 
 that bear on skating, I suppose there is no reason why I 
 should withhold them. 
 
 So here it is. I have set down everything at once — the 
 outline of the picture of skating as I know that absorbing 
 pastime, and of the me that has learned that outline. On 
 the basis of what my life has been like, people may judge 
 how much of my enthusiasm for skating they want to ac- 
 cept as a possible part of their own lives. 
 
 Before I end my apologia, I want to say that I am indebted 
 to the many friends who have held my hand through the 
 setting down of this two-part record, especially to Janet 
 Owen; and further to state that if they had not been 
 patient, helpful, and encouraging, I should probably have 
 let the rabbit run back into the shop. 
 
 SONJA HENCE 
 
 VI 
 
1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 Contents 
 
 PART I 
 
 My Life on Skates 
 
 . . PRELUDE . . 
 
 . . WHIRLPOOL . . 
 
 . . CRESCENDO . . 
 
 . . CLIMAX . . 
 
 "over the rainbow” 
 
 1 
 
 22 
 
 46 
 
 67 
 
 83 
 
 PART II 
 
 Now It’s Your Turn: 
 
 Skating for Fun and Competition 
 
 . SPORT TO SUIT THE SPORTSMAN . . 99 
 
 TAKE YOUR ICE WHERE YOU FIND IT .102 
 . . . PASTIME PATTERNS . . . .110 
 . . FOR ENTHUSIASTS ONLY . . .137 
 . . . UP THE LADDER .... 173 
 
 52379 
 
•• 
 
 J 
 
PART I 
 
 Life on S fates 
 
CHAPTER ONE 
 
 SOMETIMES I WAKE UP IN THE MORNING FEELING LIKE A 
 lottery winner. No postman stands at the door telling me 
 I hold a winning ticket, yet everything around me seems 
 to shine, and when I think of the day to come, the hours 
 ahead glint with excitement just as they do for children 
 on Christmas morning. 
 
 Whenever I take a good look at the situation, it seems 
 to me I’m so lucky it’s almost indecent. Like having more 
 money than you know what to do with. Except that I 
 know what to do with my luck. 
 
 Not many people can spend their lives doing what they 
 like to do best. I happen to be one of those few who can. 
 All my life I have wanted to skate, and all my life I have 
 skated. 
 
 When I was a little girl, some of my friends used to say, 
 "You’re crazy. You’d rather skate than eat.” It only made 
 me think they were queer. Since then I have learned to 
 respect eating as having its uses, but still I would rather 
 skate. 
 
 A life on ice may not seem very special to other people. 
 
 1 
 
Prelude 
 
 A little cold, perhaps. To me, however, it is new excite- 
 ment over and over. 
 
 If you are not a skater, you probably can’t imagine what 
 I mean. I could try to tell you by saying it’s a feeling of 
 ice miles running under your blades, the wind splitting 
 open to let you through, the earth whirling around you at 
 the touch of your toe, and speed lifting you off the ice far 
 from all things that can hold you down. It’s a sense of 
 power, of command over distance and gravity, and an 
 illusion of no longer having to move because movement is 
 carrying you. 
 
 The opportunity to skate as much as I wanted would 
 have been enough to keep me happy, but my luck didn’t 
 leave it at that. Years of brilliant, bizarre experiences have 
 been piled on top of my simple fun-in-skating. 
 
 Damon Runyon once called me a "gee whizzer.” I have 
 never been sure what he meant by that. If he intended 
 to point out that I’m an American-slang addict, he was 
 partly right. Slang is a foreigner’s shortcut to forceful 
 English, and I couldn’t do without it. But I never went 
 around saying "gee whiz.” It is not one of my favorites. 
 If he meant, instead, that people sometimes feel that way 
 when they see me skate, I’m grateful. If, however, he 
 meant that that phrase stands for the way I feel, whether 
 I say it or not, then he really had something. Any one of 
 these mornings when I wake up with the past and present 
 both winking at me, I wouldn’t be too surprised if I did 
 catch myself murmuring "gee whiz,” just to myself. 
 
 Perhaps it isn’t smart to be excited about things, even 
 about remarkable luck. Smart audiences applaud very 
 little. Actresses have become the rage by looking bored. 
 People in night spots spend hundreds for a good time, but 
 
 2 
 
Prelude 
 
 act as though it would be a breach of decency to show that 
 they were getting what they spent it for. 
 
 This fashion of boredom seems shoddy to me. It was born 
 of the boom when everybody had too much of everything. 
 Since then, many people have had too little of anything 
 and we have learned to count our blessings, not discount 
 them. At any rate, I can’t fit into it. I am having a won- 
 derful time, and I see no reason for hiding it. 
 
 The long stretch of good time that might be called my 
 "life on ice” began when I was six. That was the year I 
 was given my first skates, after a considerable period of 
 begging by me and resistance by my parents on the grounds 
 that I was "too young.” I had been offered double-runners, 
 but had spurned them. In my opinion, they were just so 
 much infants’ wear. 
 
 There have naturally been many things I wanted in all 
 these years besides the exhilaration of skating itself. I had 
 an earlier passion — dancing. Later I wanted to bring danc- 
 ing into skating, transport the ballet onto ice. Still later, 
 I have had a driving desire to help as many people as possi- 
 ble realize what fun skating is. Hundreds will be enjoying 
 it sometime to the one of today in this country and Canada, 
 and I would like to hurry that future along. 
 
 Recently, I have been very absorbed trying to turn a 
 skater into an actress. Acting has been my job these last 
 four years, along with skating, and if audiences are going 
 to see me act as well as skate I don’t want them to shut 
 their eyes when I’m not skating. There’s enough of that 
 sort of thing at the opera. 
 
 Good breaks began for me at the beginning. Family, 
 home, circumstances, the country I lived in and the 
 weather I was born in all conspired to make a skater of me. 
 
 3 
 
Prelude 
 
 After I was launched in competition, at the age of seven, 
 I had to do some work on it myself, but before that nothing 
 was needed of me except the desire to become a skater. As 
 far back as I can remember, that desire and I have been 
 Siamese twins. 
 
 I have it on the good authority of my parents that nature 
 made the first move. I was born in a blizzard, a special 
 out-of-season blizzard. Winter had given way to spring, 
 April buds had burst into flower and birds into song. Then 
 came the worst blizzard Oslo ever suffered — and me. Press 
 agents have made a tall tale of this, but it is true none the 
 less. 
 
 After my stormy sponsor, the next influence was my 
 home town. Oslo, capital of Norway, is a colorful city 
 set against a high hill and, in the period in which I was 
 born, used to be covered with winter half the year. Gulf 
 Stream whimsies have since made its climate milder, but 
 they thoughtfully waited until I had been launched on my 
 career. 
 
 The first things I knew outside of my home were snow 
 on the hill, sleds, the fine, clean cut of ice winds, and 
 the fact that older boys and girls had fun going skating 
 at Frogner Stadium, a big open-air rink in the city where 
 later I skated before twenty thousand spectators and my 
 king and queen. Among the older children who regularly 
 had fun at Frogner was my brother Leif (pronounced 
 "Lafe,” like "safe”) . I might say especially my brother Leif. 
 He is older than I, and for the first half-dozen years of my 
 life was simultaneously my hero and my object of burning 
 envy. He did everything better than I. He was allowed to 
 do all the things I was "too young” for. Skating was the 
 sorest point of the latter group until I was six and finally 
 
 4 
 
Prelude 
 
 succeeded in extracting a pair of skates from my parents. 
 
 We had a hunting lodge at Geilo, a mountain village that 
 was famous for winter sports. From the time I was four, 
 mother, father, Leif, and I used to go there for week ends 
 and holidays as soon as the first snow fell. 
 
 I was crazy about Geilo, even about going to Geilo. 
 Father, round of figure and jolly to go with it, and wholly 
 the pleasantest person I have ever known, would bundle 
 us all under big fur rugs, mother quiet but missing nothing, 
 the firm pillar of the family as always, and Leif and I very 
 unruly in our enthusiasm. 
 
 I was born just too late for the thrills of long distance 
 rides in horse-drawn sleighs. My father had the first auto- 
 mobile in Oslo, and by the time I appeared the family was 
 well into its third generation of cars. So I had to wait for 
 later years in smaller places to learn the sleigh bells’ myriad 
 music. We motored to our winter place. 
 
 No one walked at Geilo. Feet out of doors were feet on 
 skis. This was a great boon. I had skis from the first winter 
 we went to Geilo. I could go where Leif could go, that is 
 to say, as long as I could keep up with him. I loved the 
 speed. I felt I never could get enough of it. Brilliant winter 
 days always went to my head anyway, and when I could 
 add speed that I made myself to the natural whip of the 
 wind, I wanted never to go indoors. Sometimes we would 
 stay out when we knew a blizzard was threatening, long 
 enough to worry mother and father and ourselves just a 
 little, and then rush home the downhill way, barely beat- 
 ing the storm to our doorstep. 
 
 Out of this early start on skis I gained a good feeling for 
 balance and rhythm in movement. These gave me a head 
 start later as a novice on skates. Aunts and other friendly 
 
 5 
 
Prelude 
 
 adults of the period say I became a graceful skier. I 
 wouldn’t know about that. What I do know is that Geilo 
 meant skiing, and skiing was like flying, and this flying 
 made me winter-drunk, an affliction I have never got over. 
 Later I changed my type of flying, from wooden runners 
 to steel blades, but the state of intoxication remained the 
 same. I also know I acquired great confidence in propelling 
 myself rapidly over long, smooth surfaces, and later that 
 was a definite asset. 
 
 Another help toward my ultimate future, in what might 
 be called my preskate period, was a thorough saturation in 
 ballet dancing. I absorbed so much that it has marked 
 everything I have done since. Dancing, like skating in the 
 years after, was far from forced on me. The ballet was 
 my first love, skating my second, chronologically speaking. 
 
 If it had not been that my parents were always very 
 good to me, understanding, encouraging, helpful, I should 
 not have been able to build dancing or skating into my 
 life. Their attitude handed me a keystone. They watched 
 my interests and sponsored them. 
 
 Back in my dark ages of four and five this was particu- 
 larly telling. I was showing alarming signs of a theatrical 
 leaning. Mother’s soft formal dresses were a constant prey 
 to my costuming interests. When her closet was unguarded, 
 I casually took what I wanted, the more perishable the 
 better, put it on, tied it up off the floor, and went down- 
 stairs to give a "dancing recital.” When the damage threat- 
 ened to grow serious, mother gave me outright some old 
 dresses and scarves and so saved her wardrobe, but not the 
 household from the artiste’s passion. Endowed with a cos- 
 tume department, the recitals went on at still greater fre- 
 quency. 
 
 6 
 
SONJA WITH 
 
 Her First 
 Real Skates 
 
 Sonja WITH 
 Brother Leif 
 in Early 
 Childhood 
 
On the Ice at St. Moritz 
 
Prelude 
 
 This was the beginning of what almost became a dance 
 career. “Theatrical” is probably the wrong term for this 
 early fervor. I was avid about the costuming and deadly 
 earnest about setting a formal atmosphere for the occasions, 
 but the actual seat of the disturbance was the dancing itself. 
 When I heard music, I wanted to do something in motion 
 about the way it made me feel. 
 
 The urge wasn’t dampened in the slightest by my de- 
 liberately turning on the music myself. I had, in fact, dis- 
 tinct preferences for one sort of music at one time and 
 different tempos or moods at another. I found that re- 
 flecting the quality of the music in movements that were 
 fast or slow, smooth or jerky, was so fascinating an occupa- 
 tion that it took a mass walk-out of my audience plus a 
 firm hand leading me off to bed to make me stop. 
 
 My audience was most indulgent. It must have come 
 pretty close to spoiling me. I grouped the living room 
 chairs into “boxes,” numbered them, made out tickets, 
 ushered in the customers, turned on the gramophone or- 
 chestra, and proceeded to render my incubator conception 
 of the dance. My unfailing father and mother applauded 
 each number. Leif wriggled, sometimes walked out, fre- 
 quently never appeared at all, but his lack of respect had 
 no influence. 
 
 When this business had gone on for a year or two with- 
 out the least sign of waning, mother and father came to 
 the conclusion that it had to be faced — I was seriously in- 
 terested in dancing. Characteristically they decided that if 
 I were bound to express myself that way I might as well 
 have some training for it. 
 
 So I was sent to Love Krohn, an Oslo ballet master with 
 an international reputation. He had at one time been Pav- 
 
 7 
 
Prelude 
 
 Iowa’s teacher. The ballet lessons, of course, took. I went 
 just as often as I could get my parents to let me, when we 
 were not at Geilo or the seashore. At one time I think I 
 decided it would be nice to be the best dancer in the world. 
 Mother remarked that there was a ballerina named Pav- 
 lowa whom the world considered incomparable, and that 
 she might give me some competition. The hint did not 
 impress. Later, however, fortunately for my pride and my 
 family’s peace of mind, the ambition subsided into a de- 
 sire to see Pavlowa dance. 
 
 This I did a few years later in London, and the memory 
 has never faded. All through my competitive years in 
 skating I went on with my lessons in ballet and gradually 
 developed the concept of a blend of the two on ice. 
 
 This year, in the Hollywood Ice Revue of 1940, the idea 
 became a full-blown reality. We presented Pavlowa’s and 
 Nijinsky’s favorite classic ballet, Les Sylphides, composed 
 initially by Michel Fokine to music of Chopin arranged by 
 Stravinsky. Our choreography was as close to the original 
 as the medium of ice would permit, and the whole was 
 dressed in soft lights and the billowing skirts of the au- 
 thentic ballet stage. Two million people who saw us on 
 tour apparently liked it. 
 
 Les Sylphides is the latest and most satisfying of my ef- 
 forts to fuse ballet and skating, but I started a long time 
 ago, way back in my skating history. Until the Olympic 
 winter games of 1928, figure skating had been rather stiff 
 and pedantic in its competitive form. The free skating 
 programs, the half of each contestant’s performance that 
 is left to his invention and taste, had been little more than 
 series of school figures and minor stunt figures strung to- 
 gether on an abtrusive thread of navigation from one spot 
 on the ice to another. 
 
 8 
 
Prelude 
 
 This was before that year in St. Moritz. I am sure that 
 my introduction of dance pattern into my free skating 
 program had a great deal to do with my winning that 1928 
 Olympic championship. It gave form and flow to the se- 
 quence of orthodox spins and jumps. As a matter of his- 
 tory, good skaters in all countries since then have come 
 to build their free skating programs to a large extent on 
 dance choreography. 
 
 My contribution to the figure skating picture was no 
 help in competition after the beginning. In making it, I 
 made trouble for myself. It is a great deal easier to beat 
 opponents who lack your weapons than to beat them 
 sheerly by your skill in using weapons. 
 
 Now that I have reached the age of looking back fondly 
 and calmly upon my childhood, I realize that if it hadn’t 
 been for my brother, I might never have been at St. Moritz, 
 or performing ballet patterns on anything harder than toe 
 slippers. Leif’s superiority piqued me into becoming a 
 skater. 
 
 For all I know I might have remained content as Love 
 Krohn’s pupil, hurling feather-weight challenges at the 
 great Pavlowa, if it hadn’t been that Leif had skates and 
 I didn’t, up to the time I was six. He was tall and well 
 built in a slender way, with a lean-cheeked look and slow- 
 waving blond hair, as a young boy, even as he is now. All 
 his likable traits, internal and external, however, did not 
 prevent his being just one blur of enviable brother to me. 
 Leif had skates, went places, and had fun. I didn’t have 
 skates, couldn’t go to Frogner with him, but detected he 
 had fun because he always came back in a glow, and usually 
 later than he should. 
 
 Since I had never been on skates, it was probably no more 
 than the idea of the situation that worked on me. Leif was 
 
 9 
 
Prehide 
 
 my big brother, and I had proved myself quite capable of 
 balancing on skiis. Why shouldn’t that apply to skates 
 as well? 
 
 I tagged after Leif and watched him skate. I begged and 
 used every persuasion I knew, even efforts at reason. Still 
 they said I was too young. 
 
 Finally my parents weakened. I was given a pair of 
 skates. They were just skates, the kind you fitted onto your 
 shoes, but they were ice-going. The next year I came into 
 my own. I was given a pair with boots attached. I was 
 seven, and ecstatic, but much had happened in the year 
 before that. 
 
 Leif had quite a time with me from the moment the 
 first skates were in my hands. Try as he would, he couldn’t 
 shake me off. When he went skating, I went. Sometimes 
 he’d stall as though he weren’t going, and then duck out of 
 the door suddenly. But it was no use. I was ready for him 
 practically every time. 
 
 One morning when he went up to his room to get his 
 skates, I rushed up after him, pulled on a heavy sweater, 
 grabbed my skates, and tore downstairs again to find him 
 sitting deep in the sofa, frowning over a newspaper. 
 
 "What’s all the rush?” he growled without looking up. 
 I was so startled by the apparent change of affairs that I 
 fell into the trap. 
 
 "I thought you were going skating,” I said. 
 
 "Well I’m not,” he retorted, "and mother wants you up- 
 stairs to help her plan lunch.” 
 
 This was a palpable invention. Lunch was four hours 
 away, mother never went into planning seriously unless 
 we were to have several guests, and that day I knew that 
 not even father was going to be with us at midday. I 
 
 10 
 
Prehide 
 
 smelled the ruse, and then I saw the tip of one of Leif’s 
 blades gleaming from behind the sofa cushion. 
 
 With what I hoped was a fierce noise, I ran over and 
 yanked out the skates. Leif was furious, but defeated. I 
 went along with him. 
 
 Leif had his own friends, older than I, all, like Leif, 
 better skaters than I. So he was thoroughly justified, but 
 such facts never occurred to me. Time and again I chased 
 after him down the street on my shorter legs, storming to 
 myself that he had no right to run away from me, and ar- 
 rived at the Stadium right on his heels, demanding that he 
 wait until I got my skates on. 
 
 This sort of small-sisterly procedure was not necessary 
 all the time. Leif was really very patient with me. Actu- 
 ally, he taught me the rudiments of skating. 
 
 The first time I went with him, he started out onto the 
 ice ahead of me. Just as I had thought when I had been 
 watching before, it all looked very simple. So I did what 
 I expected would be likewise — just started to strike out for 
 the middle of the rink. 
 
 From that moment on I have always known how hard 
 ice can be. But you couldn’t jar the enthusiasm out of 
 me. Leif came back, and, after he was quite through laugh- 
 ing, gave me some friendly suggestions. He taught me how 
 to relax in falling, one of the most vital fundamentals of 
 all skating. I remember his saying earnestly: 
 
 "If you are going to skate, you are going to fall.” I 
 was still very angry and embarrassed. I was afraid that 
 Leif would think I could never become a good skater if I 
 showed so little balance, and that he might convince my 
 parents. But he did just the right thing, like boxing a 
 hysterical person’s ears. 
 
 11 
 
Prehide 
 
 "Who do you think you are,” he said, "to think you can 
 learn to skate without falling? Ten years from now you’ll 
 still be falling, maybe less often.” 
 
 With this harsh comfort in mind, I proceeded to take 
 his instruction and fall down intentionally. We did it on 
 the ice a few times, and then over and over at home. It was, 
 as he said, quite a simple process when I got used to the 
 idea — just a matter of letting go completely, bending at 
 the ankles, sagging my knees, doubling up in the hips as 
 though I were going to sit down, and so going down to the 
 ground in easy stages with my hips taking the major por- 
 tion of the weight. It is the way a length of rope drops 
 compared to a stick of wood. The one goes down limply 
 without a bang, the other whams, and may nick the ground 
 or itself. Untrained people falling stay rigid. That hurts. 
 It can even give you concussion. In the accidental fall, if 
 you remember to relax and try to swivel so that the side 
 of your hip will take the impact, you can even get to like it. 
 
 Within an hour or so after that first unforgettable fall, 
 Leif had me well over the totters. I had plenty of falls in 
 the years that followed, but none, fortunately, at crucial 
 times, and none that ever did serious damage. 
 
 So started my life on skates. The next thing my startled 
 family knew, I didn’t want to do anything but skate. For 
 the first time, something was matching my excitement 
 about dancing. I went down to Frogner early in the day, 
 and sometimes forgot to go home for dinner. Mother and 
 father as usual were sympathetic. Dancing and skiing were 
 helping me. I was learning very fast. 
 
 From that time to this, I have been in this delightful 
 state of chronic skating. First it was the never-ending 
 sequences of amateur competitions, then professional 
 
 12 
 
Prelude 
 
 shows and the films. Since I was nine years old, I have 
 never been off the ice longer than three weeks at one time. 
 Before I was a year gone in this second juvenile mania, in 
 other words before I was seven and had skate-boots, things 
 began to happen that belong on my record. When I look 
 back now, they seem to me to have happened in rapid 
 succession. 
 
 At six, I was learning from Leif how to stay upright on 
 skates and not to mind if I didn’t. At six and a half, I was 
 skating alone, full of pride in accomplishment. At about 
 six and three-quarters, somebody noticed me — Miss Hjordis 
 Olsen, a young woman who belonged to the private club 
 at Frogner. 
 
 I was outside looking in. The club members have a 
 special section of ice roped off for their exclusive use. 
 There experts can go through their spins and jumps un- 
 molested by bumpings and boisterousness of children and 
 inept adults. The mass skates on the ice beyond. 
 
 Of course I was not a member. But I had already de- 
 veloped a yearning to become one. The figures the skilled 
 skaters cut on their small private ice fascinated me. I tried 
 to imitate some of them on the less populated edges of the 
 public ice. The results were lamentable, except one. 
 
 Miss Olsen, whom I later learned to love dearly as one 
 of the most alive, friendly, and patient souls who ever took 
 an interest in any youngster, evidently had seen my clan- 
 destine efforts. She had also seen my natural skating. Ap- 
 parently the excitement that kept me skating from sunup 
 to sundown showed itself in my manner and movements, 
 and appealed to Miss Olsen’s own enthusiasm. One day she 
 invited me to come inside the ropes. 
 
 I went in there in a daze. I felt as though I had gone 
 
 13 
 
Prelude 
 
 to heaven. Here I was with the experts on their personal 
 ice. Then Miss Olsen took my hand and began to skate 
 with me. She didn’t try to lead me into steps I couldn’t 
 do, just let me find myself going along easily beside her, 
 and then gradually broke into a few simple figures that 
 Leif had already taught me. 
 
 For the next few months Hjordis gave me lessons regu- 
 larly, though she was strictly an amateur. I practiced the 
 school figures she taught me over and over until I could 
 etch the same figure ten times on one spot and leave one 
 single unblurred tracing behind me. 
 
 When I turned seven and appeared with my better 
 skates, it was Hjordis who suggested to my father that he 
 let me enter the children’s competition held each year. 
 He did, and I won it. They gave me a small silver paper 
 cutter with a mother-of-pearl handle, as the token of my 
 victory. The pearl had lovely soft colors in it. It seemed 
 to me the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. 
 
 The children I had been chosen over were all nearly twice 
 my age. My family was openly proud of me. Father had 
 been a world champion bicyclist before I was born, and a 
 skater of some competitive note besides. I think he felt a 
 like-father like-daughter pleasure in my scoring even so 
 small a success. Mother didn’t hide the fact that she was 
 happy I had done well in the field in which I was so ab- 
 sorbed. As for Leif, I remember it seemed to me he showed 
 the first sign of respect toward me of our entire life. He 
 said, without the least condescension, that he would take 
 the paper cutter with him to school the next day and show 
 it to the boys who had not been at Frogner. 
 
 If it had not been for Hjordis Olsen, I might never have 
 entered competition. After that start at seven, however, 
 
 14 
 
Prelude 
 
 there was no turning back. My family were enthusiastic 
 about my progressing, and I didn’t care what happened to 
 me so long as I kept on skating. Competition was the sure 
 way of keeping on. 
 
 The next year, when I was eight, I won the Junior Class 
 C competition, one step higher. It was decided then that 
 I should jump Junior B and A, Senior C and B, and enter 
 the Senior A, the national championship of Norway. 
 
 This was to be held the following winter. The entire 
 Henie clan made plans for this competition more seriously. 
 I was given professional lessons from Oscar Holte, Oslo’s 
 leading instructor. Mother and father kept a close watch 
 on my skating. They took turns going to my lessons and 
 practice periods with me. They developed themselves into 
 expert critics for my benefit. All this was started nearly a 
 year ahead of time, months before the April when I turned 
 nine. 
 
 A regular practice schedule was arranged for me, three 
 hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. My time 
 at Frogner was no longer mine to play with. It was super- 
 vised, precise in length, and devoted to serious training. 
 Far from minding, I was thrilled that my skating was being 
 given rights of importance, and that I was improving. 
 
 Besides the concentrated practice hours, I was given a 
 diet scheme that made certain that I would eat neither fool- 
 ishly nor at the wrong times. It was finally impressed upon 
 me that some eating was necessary, and I meekly gave in 
 and went to breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the times when 
 I was expected. The chief element of the scheme was that 
 I shouldn’t eat for two hours before skating, a rule I hold 
 to today. Altogether, a family ritual of living was built 
 around my skating. 
 
 15 
 
Prelude 
 
 If Wilhelm and Selma Nilsen Henie had any disinclina- 
 tion toward having a skating career grow up in their midst 
 and ultimately turn Juggernaut on the family existence, 
 they should not have undertaken this fanning of my pas- 
 sion. They’ve never confessed to thinking they made a mis- 
 take, so possibly they knew what was coming and liked it 
 for my sake. If anyone had tried to tell me then the travels, 
 the acquaintances, the drama, the terrific pace, and half 
 the happiness that were to come, I would have thought it 
 was a fairy story and duly gone to sleep. 
 
 Father’s business, as head of his wholesale fur company, 
 sent him on frequent trips to the Continent. In his absence 
 mother took over complete supervision with her all-seeing 
 eye and firm hand. She has been my closest counsellor in 
 all the years since, going with me everywhere and giving 
 me shrewd advice. 
 
 In the spring I went back to Love Krohn for more ballet 
 lessons, and when summer came, mother took me to Lon- 
 don for a course under Mme. Karsavina, a woman associated 
 with Pavlowa in the Russian ballet for many years. 
 
 School studies, that year when I was training for the 
 Norwegian national championship, became a matter of 
 tutoring and remained so through most of the years after. 
 Therein lay another big block of my prevailing good luck. 
 If my family had not had the means to give me my school- 
 ing on a flexible tutors’ time schedule, I would have had no 
 schooling or else no championship career. If, again, they 
 had not had the means to let me travel and to travel with 
 me, I would not have had the benefit of foreign instructors’ 
 coaching or the invaluable experience of practice away 
 from home, and in all probability little championship 
 career. Physique, coordination, and ideas sometimes seem 
 a very small part of what makes a champion. 
 
 16 
 
Prelude 
 
 On the day of the Norwegian championship a big crowd 
 had already gathered in the grandstand at Frogner when 
 mother, father, and I arrived and took our places in the 
 section reserved for contestants and their families. There 
 were thousands more there than when I had competed for 
 the children’s and the Junior C titles. 
 
 When my name was called, I felt as though all Oslo had 
 risen to swallow me up, but when I reached the allotted 
 part of the ice, there was only the ice and I and my 
 skates and some figures to be done that I knew quite well 
 and loved to do. This change has taken place in every com- 
 petition I have entered. I may feel tense the moment be- 
 fore my entrance, but once on the smooth, hard surface 
 I’m at home and alone with my fun. 
 
 Carefully I cut my first school figures. Applause came 
 ringing over the long reach from the grandstand. When 
 I returned to give my free skating program, they clapped 
 as I went on the ice. Evidently people thought I was all 
 right, not an out-of -place baby. I flew over the ice. I 
 whipped up my spins and let go in my jumps as I had done 
 before only when no one was looking. When it was all 
 over, I was champion of Norway. 
 
 My skating horizon opened up after that. Oscar Flolte, 
 Hjordis, father, and mother all agreed I should go abroad 
 for some lessons and experience. Needless to say, I had no 
 objections. When the prospect was new I had a hard 
 time deciding whether it was more exciting to be going 
 to the Continent to skate or just to walk around realizing 
 I was the national champion. Then I saw that I could 
 walk around realizing while I was abroad, and the problem 
 dissolved. 
 
 The following fall, we went to St. Moritz and to 
 Chamonix. In St. Moritz there was fine ice and plenty 
 
 17 
 
Prelude 
 
 of it. I was plunged into the color and commotion of 
 international sports-hotel life, full of personalities, activ- 
 ities, and jealousies. There was to be much more of this, 
 later, when I was not a newcomer but directly involved. 
 
 I met Gillis Grafstrom, the great Swedish skater. He 
 (was at the height of his fame, restless and nervous as all 
 people are who are artists in their lines. Despite promi- 
 nence and temperament, he was friendly, and gave me 
 criticism and suggestions. 
 
 In the winter I was entered in the 1924 Olympic Games 
 at Chamonix for the experience. That was just what I 
 got. No honors, but a vivid introduction to just how 
 bright the constellation of the world’s skating stars was, 
 and a heady anticipation of what I might be taking real 
 part in some day. 
 
 Fru Szabo-Jaros was the women’s defending champion. 
 She was magnificent. She retained the title. I took last 
 place. Father thought this was an injustice because one 
 judge had given me top place in free skating. For my own 
 part, I don’t like to think what might have happened if 
 I had become Olympic champion at the age of ten. It 
 might have gone to my head, and surely would have 
 robbed me of the fun and fine training of four years’ 
 work toward that goal. 
 
 As it was, I entered a championship of almost Olympic 
 magnitude, almost as prematurely. We heard, early in 
 1926, two years after my visit to Chamonix, that the world 
 championships of 1927 had been awarded to Oslo. In 1925 
 and again just before the news of Oslo’s appointment came 
 through, I had successively retained my Norwegian cham- 
 pionship. There was no reason to think I would not retain 
 it again in 1927 on the eve of the world competition in 
 
 18 
 
Prelude 
 
 Oslo. If I did, I would be the country’s most logical repre- 
 sentative. 
 
 On the other hand, children weren’t entering world 
 championships. I would be only thirteen when the time 
 came. It might seem presumptuous. At the time of mak- 
 ing my formal entrance on paper I would still be only 
 twelve. The authorities might even oppose it, saying as 
 they had about my entry in the Olympics, that they "didn’t 
 want a Norwegian skater to turn the affair into a farce.” 
 Father had downed them then, on the grounds that I was 
 the national champion and therefore entitled to enter any 
 international contest I chose. He could do so again, but I 
 would have to make a very good showing to justify his 
 pressure. 
 
 The temptation, in the end, was too strong to resist. The 
 whole Henie brood felt that an international competition 
 on our back ice was something it would be unthinkable not 
 to take part in. For the first of ten times to come, I was 
 entered in the world championships. The authorities did 
 not object, even though I was only twelve at the time the 
 paper was filed. Even so, without pressure to justify, a 
 new concentration of Henie forces followed. Possibly 
 father, mother, and Leif had a deep -down determination 
 that the Henie name should not be blotted on Oslo ice, of 
 all places. Personally, at the time, I felt little sense of 
 family name responsibility, but some awe for what was 
 to come, remembering Chamonix, and a definite bedazzle- 
 ment with the idea of competing again with the stars. 
 
 The family took a new winter home just eleven miles 
 from Oslo so that I could be nearer the city, the stadium, 
 and Oscar Holte. To his knowing guidance was added the 
 advice of Martin Stixrud, instructor of international note. 
 
 19 
 
Prehide 
 
 When summer came in the wake of my thirteenth April, 
 bringing with it the annual letup in skating and increase in 
 dancing and music, mother planned my world champion- 
 ship costume. She chose white, and designed it tight fitting, 
 with no folds or furbelows to confuse the picture of my 
 movements. If I never remembered anything else I ever 
 wore, I would remember that trim white velvet dress with 
 its bell skirt. It was a revolution from the clumsy skating 
 dresses that had been in vogue. 
 
 The fall had its grim moments. A world championship 
 is no easy objective. Ice conditions were excellent at home. 
 Everyone thought there was no need to go abroad, better 
 for me to stay there and work steadily toward the goal. 
 I spent hours at a time getting my school figures down to 
 absolute accuracy, tracing and retracing the patterns on 
 the ice. I did exercises for balance, for limbering, for 
 strengthening my muscles. I worked constantly on the dif- 
 ficult jumps that were to be the specialties of my free skat- 
 ing program. I loved it all. 
 
 With the help of my betters I planned the most impres- 
 sive free skating program I could dare hope to go through 
 without falling on my face. Stixrud, Holte, and my 
 parents saw to it that I did not skate too many hours, but 
 they could not control how hard I worked during the hours 
 I had. Sometimes I felt as though every muscle were a live 
 wire that would burn me up if I moved it. When I got into 
 bed some nights, it seemed to me my body had turned into 
 a mass of lead that would weigh down lower and lower 
 through the bed all night because I couldn’t move it if I 
 tried. And yet I really didn’t mind. The work was skat- 
 ing, and the goal was better skating. Furthermore, those 
 sensations came only sometimes. The rest of the days I 
 
 20 
 
Prelude 
 
 felt fit enough to fly over the entire country, let alone just 
 its ice, and at rash moments to out-skate Fru Szabo-Jaros. 
 
 In the dead of winter, 1926-27, the champions and near- 
 champions began moving into our city. In twos and threes 
 and finally dozens they appeared at Frogner. They repre- 
 sented all the countries of Europe and a few across the 
 seas. 
 
 The afternoon before the championships were to open, I 
 stood in the middle of what had been my own home ice 
 and watched them going through their specialties. They 
 all seemed completely confident and inconceivably bril- 
 liant. 
 
 One of the grandstand boxes had been draped with flags 
 and surrounded by silk ropes and an approach of bright red 
 carpet. It had become the royal box. King Haakon, Queen 
 Maude, md their entourage would be seated there, watch- 
 ing, tomorrow. I would have to be better than most of 
 all those leaping, whirling, unerring national champions 
 just to place, and I was the youngest skater who had ever 
 entered a world championship. 
 
 I suddenly thought of what it would be like to fail before 
 all of Oslo and the whole skating world. I thought of 
 falling, and prayed that if I did I would break a leg so that 
 I could be carried out and not have to skate my way off to 
 disgrace. There was an endless night to be waited through. 
 I went home and put the pearl-handled paper cutter under 
 my pillow. 
 
 21 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 
 Whirlpool 
 
 PERHAPS IT WAS THE PAPER CUTTER THAT BROUGHT ME 
 through the world championship in Oslo the winner. I 
 remember the way the pearl handle glinted beside my pil- 
 low in the light of the bed lamp the night before the com- 
 petition, and how soothingly cold the blade felt in the 
 palm of my hand. Superstitions give your courage such a 
 nice fake boost. No skating trophy has ever meant as 
 much to me as that first simple one I had won so long 
 before. 
 
 Something must have helped me place first, at thirteen, 
 over the national champions, all older and more experi- 
 enced than I. My performance had something to do with 
 it, I suppose, but I remember very little about that. What 
 comes back was the aftermath, the beginning of a decade 
 of whirlwind travel and a crazy merry-go-round way of 
 living in which there was a new ring to reach for each time 
 the year swung around to winter. 
 
 A cold wind was slicing over the broad sweep of ice at 
 Frogner Stadium, that late afternoon. I remember its edge 
 
 22 
 
SONJA HENIE 
 Skates Before 
 Spectators at 
 the Olympic 
 Ice Stadium, 
 Garmisch 
 
 Pictures, Inc. 
 
 International Women Figure Skaters at Lake Placid Winter Olympics 
 Left to Right: Vivi-Anne Hulten, Fritzie Burger, 
 
 Sonja Henie, Maribel Vinson 
 
King Haakon and Queen Maud of Norway at 
 Opening of "My Lucky Star” in Oslo 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 cutting me as I started toward the grandstand after finish- 
 ing the final spin of my free skating program. It was the 
 first thing I noticed as I wakened out of my performing 
 trance into the realization that my effort was all over. I 
 had done what I could. I had finished. Whether I would 
 be the winner or not was on the knees of the judges. 
 
 A few moments later I was being presented to my King 
 and Queen for the first time in my life. The director took 
 me by the hand and skated with me across to the royal 
 box. There they were, in the silk-roped enclosure, King 
 Haakon, Queen Maude, Crown Prince Olaf, and others of 
 the royal family, just as I had seen them in the distance 
 many times before. This time they were smiling directly 
 at me, and first the King and then Queen Maude congratu- 
 lated me, saying so many nice things, especially noticing 
 my being the youngest girl ever to win the world cham- 
 pionship, that I lost my self-consciousness, curtsied many 
 more times than I should, and became ardently patriotic. 
 
 His Majesty said he was proud that I was a Norwegian, 
 and an answering pride hummed through me then that 
 came back again in later years each time I represented my 
 country in competition. As though his recognition had 
 not been enough to make me want to go on conquering 
 ice worlds for Norway, King Haakon had bouquets o i 
 giant pink carnations sent me before many of my later 
 competitions, and cablegramj and telegrams of good luck 
 other times, giving me an inspiration and incentive to dd 
 well that certainly must be counted an advantage over my 
 rivals. 
 
 Queen Maude added to my delicious sense of royal back- 
 ing. One fall, a few years later, when she was visiting in 
 London and I happened to be there for ballet lessons with 
 
 23 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 Mme. Karsavina, I received an invitation from Her Majesty 
 to Buckingham Palace to meet King George V, her brother, 
 Queen Mary, and the Prince of Wales. She must have 
 known how much such an experience would mean to a 
 young girl, being presented in such an informal way, and 
 despite all else she had on her calendar, took the time to 
 think of me and spend some of her afternoon hours for 
 my benefit. 
 
 It is impossible in writing of past times to say anything 
 adequate about how affairs abroad today make a Nor- 
 wegian feel. For me it is especially impossible because the 
 rulers of my country have been so exceptionally kind to 
 me that my love for Norway is a personal matter. 
 
 My victory in the 1927 Oslo world championship headed 
 me straight for the Olympic Games that were to be held 
 the following winter at St. Moritz. I trained near home, 
 at Frinse, because the ice was excellent early in the fall, 
 making it quite unnecessary to go abroad, and father was 
 sticking to his wise principle that it is good to train far 
 away from one’s rivals. 
 
 Three elements in my preparation were highly impor- 
 tant, I believe as I look back now. I worked intensively on 
 each of the eighty school figures, trying for polish in all of 
 them so that I should not be caught unawares by any that 
 might be selected for the Olympic test that year. 
 
 The second telling factor was exhibition experience. I 
 performed before audiences as many times as father could 
 find occasions. Frinse had become our private training 
 place to a large extent, since I used the ice most and more 
 seriously than anyone else in the good winter spot, and at 
 times father and I put on small exhibitions of the most 
 informal sort, and interested people of the neighborhood 
 
 24 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 turned out in large numbers to watch them. Sometimes 
 people came all the way from Geilo for these homespun 
 performances, though all we had to offer were nearly im- 
 promptu improvisations with father in charge of the music 
 and that often amounting to no more than a gramophone. 
 Then there were two more formal exhibitions, both at 
 Bergen. A total of 35,000 people attended these two events, 
 and I have had a special love for Bergeners ever since. 
 
 Possibly the third part of my preparation was the most 
 important. Certainly it was the most prophetic. It 
 stemmed from an experience I had looked forward to and 
 shall never forget. 
 
 During the summer between my first world champion- 
 ship and the fall when I started working toward the 
 Olympics, I went to London and at last saw Pavlowa. She 
 was all I had hoped she would be. She had, for me, what 
 all great artists have — the ability to give you something 
 you had not been able to imagine in advance. She was a 
 dancer whose performance went beyond dancing, tran- 
 scending technique to such an extent that the onlooker 
 was unaware of technique. 
 
 So she became my idol more than ever. The influence 
 she had on me was twice as great now that she had become 
 a reality. My old and constant passion for dancing burst 
 into new flame. Coming back to the ice in the autumn, I 
 wanted more than anything else to make my free skating 
 program a blend of dancing and figure skating. I wanted 
 it to have the choreographic form of ballet solo and the 
 technique of the ice. Martin Stixrud helped me with this, 
 suggesting the jumps and spins I should incorporate into 
 the number to show the judges my skill, while I arranged 
 
 25 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 them in a sequence that would have something of the 
 patterned continuity and mood of dancing. 
 
 It was a good thing I was so well fortified with prepara- 
 tions for the competition. We arrived in St. Moritz in 
 high spirits, and they never had a tumble, but they might 
 easily have gone down to the bottom if I had not trained 
 so arduously, become quite used to appearing before audi- 
 ences, and, beyond those two factors, also had a free skating 
 program that departed pleasantly from the traditional. 
 
 The American champion, Maribel Vinson, was compet- 
 ing for the first time. She was one of a new guard of 
 skaters, many from Canada and the United States. There 
 was a new approach, new life, and a stiffer challenge in 
 the field than there had been at Chamonix in my dismal 
 1924. Unhappily for me, Mme. Szabo-Jaros, the 1924 
 Olympic champion whom I had hoped to meet again at St. 
 Moritz, did not appear to defend her title, and so I could 
 not feel that I had tested my 1928 ability against hers. 
 
 My first Olympic victory meant so much to me that I 
 broke right down and wept in the locker room after I 
 knew the results. It seemed to me then I had worked my 
 way uphill a long time to get there. It was a very short 
 time, as I see it now, but the first hundred weeks are 
 undoubtedly the longest. 
 
 In the evening following the competition, I was given 
 the honor of opening the Olympic Ball in the Palace Hotel 
 with the Grottumsbraten. Our Norwegian skiers were 
 being feted as the champion team in their field. It was a 
 Norwegian night. I wore some of my pink carnations, and 
 I remember wishing the King and Queen could have been 
 there to be glad with us all. 
 
 That night I stepped over the threshold into a world of 
 
 26 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 bated breath, of incessant rivalry breeding jealousies, explo- 
 sions of temperament, milling acquaintances, and a few 
 firm friendships; a world of trunks and suitcases; fast 
 trains, steamships, hotel suites, parties, balls, fetes; music, 
 costumes, spotlights — and all the time the necessity to sleep 
 long hours, eat regularly and rightly, and train constantly. 
 
 It seems harrowing, in a way, when you think of it at 
 a distance. But heady. There is no doubt of the truth of 
 either of those aspects. It sometimes seems to me a wonder 
 my father kept on spending the thousands of dollars 
 needed to keep me on the merry-go-round that whole long 
 decade; that mother never appeared to tire of chaperoning 
 me and watching over my intangible interests as father 
 watched over my practical ones; that I myself didn’t find 
 my interest in competition wearing thin long before it 
 actually did. 
 
 Halfway through the long stretch, around the time of 
 my second Olympics, at Lake Placid in 1932, it did seem to 
 us all that someday we must call a halt. But even then I 
 was too much in love with skating to consider stopping 
 seriously. Professionalism hadn’t come over the horizon 
 as a possibility in those days. Staying in competition was 
 the only way to stay skating, and so the whirl went on for 
 the Henies until another Olympic Games had come and 
 gone in 1936. 
 
 Once we got on the carrousel that memorable day at St. 
 Moritz in early 1928, there was never an idea of our getting 
 off through the whole next four years. If you start to go 
 the rounds of the competitions, you can’t stop unless you 
 are quitting for good. If you skipped a year, you would 
 get out of touch with developments, and, more important 
 still, if you slackened training because of a loss of the incen- 
 
 27 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 tive of competition, you would find yourself far behind 
 when you tried to reenter. 
 
 First port of call after St. Moritz was London. Within 
 a month of the Olympics, the 1928 world championships 
 were to be held in the British capital, and the whole pack 
 of champions checked out of Switzerland, crossed the 
 channel, and settled down in London to prepare for the 
 year’s second big test. The Henies were off with the 
 caravan. 
 
 Seeing ice-rink London with a competitor’s eyes for the 
 first time, I realized that the English have an unusual atti- 
 tude toward figure skating. In Berlin and on Swiss rinks 
 the competition seems to be the thing, but in London skat- 
 ing is recreation, entertainment. The London rinks are 
 marvelous combinations of restaurants and sports palaces. 
 Skaters seem to be at their ease, rarely overearnest and pas- 
 sionately intent the way many Continental contestants I 
 have met have been. 
 
 The evening before the London competition sparkles 
 even more in memory than my ensuing second world cham- 
 pionship victory. The late King George, the former Prince 
 of Wales, and Duke of York had expressed a wish to see 
 the contestants. We gave a small exhibition before almost 
 the entire royal household. All of us naturally rose to 
 our best for such a special occasion. We were rewarded 
 by the enraptured enthusiasm of the two little Princesses, 
 who attended the early part of the program, and the ap- 
 parently genuine interest of the older members of the 
 party. It was decided then and there, I remember, that the 
 Princesses should be given skates, and with this bond estab- 
 lished between ourselves and the royal babies of Great 
 Britain, we felt the occasion had been a very pleasant one. 
 
 28 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 Recalling these various meetings with members of 
 Europe’s ruling families brings back on a wave of undying 
 shudders what I hope will remain the worst faux pas of 
 my career. The first time I was presented to Queen Mary 
 I responded to her disarming expression of interest in the 
 sport with a suggestion that she might take up roller 
 skating. 
 
 Nobody knows how I spent the night after that, asking 
 myself over and over how I could have done it. All I know 
 is that I felt roller skating was a less dangerous form, that 
 the Queen had been so gracious as to make me forget that 
 she was a person for whom many sorts of activities are 
 impossible, and that I had a genuine impulse to make a 
 helpful suggestion. 
 
 Months afterward I kept hoping for a chance to die for 
 Queen Mary, because it was she who saved me from an 
 abyss of lese majesty. The instant’s pause that followed my 
 remark will be ringing in my ears to my final hour. Queen 
 Mary broke it, saying, "I will think about what you have 
 said.” 
 
 There were no such moments, luckily, that night of the 
 command performance in London, and the next day we 
 contestants sailed into the competition on a buoyant sen- 
 sation of royal approval. Maribel Vinson placed second, 
 Fritzi Burger of Vienna, third, and Constance Wilson of 
 Toronto, fourth. Ulrich Salchow, then president of the 
 International Skating Union, couldn’t say enough for the 
 fine showings Maribel and Constance made, and prophesied 
 good chances for both in Budapest the next year. Con- 
 stance’s poor rendering of school figures had spoiled her 
 chances in London. Melitta Brunner, of Vienna, was fifth. 
 
 The competition as a whole made quite an impression on 
 
 29 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 London. My spins on flat skates and double-revolution 
 jumps seemed quite new to the spectators. The quantity 
 and quality of the contestants as a group apparently awak- 
 ened the city to a deeper interest in skating, and, within 
 two years of that March of 1928, four new rinks were 
 added to the good one in which we had competed. 
 
 From London, mother, father, and I went to Berlin. I 
 had been asked to perform the ceremony of opening a 
 six-day bicycle race, and father, with fond memories of 
 his bicycling championship past, had accepted for me. It 
 was an odd situation, since father should have been the one 
 asked instead of me. The officials evidently were not aware 
 of his late-nineteenth-century prowess. We were all tired at 
 the end of the St. Moritz-London rush, but an acceptance 
 was an acceptance, and so we recrossed the channel and 
 boarded the Berlin express. 
 
 After getting the cyclists started, we had practically to 
 run home to Oslo. My own club had asked me to compete 
 in the Norwegian national championship. An Olympic 
 title is a help in drawing spectators. Considering the 
 warmth of my feelings toward my take-off spot, I would 
 have done a great many things less pleasant if the club 
 would have benefited. 
 
 By the time we reached Oslo I hadn’t had skates on my 
 feet for weeks and had some doubt as to how well I should 
 do. The Frogner ice on the night of the free skating con- 
 test, furthermore, was very bad, but somehow things went 
 more smoothly than they should have. There was a good 
 crowd, ten thousand or more, and I won my fifth consecu- 
 tive Norwegian championship. 
 
 That first year of being the Olympic champion was a 
 forewarning to the Henies from its first month to its last. 
 
 30 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 We had had only a start of summer’s rest when a reason 
 we could not resist arose for us to pack up again and be 
 off to Holland. This was an invitation from Prince Hein- 
 rich to the summer Olympic Games at Amsterdam. 
 
 Fall brought me my first taste of what a crowd can be 
 like when it becomes a mob around one. At fifteen I 
 found it a strange experience, thrilling, comic, distressing, 
 and terrifying, and the thrill didn’t last out the occasion. 
 
 Gothenburg, Sweden, invited me to give an exhibition. 
 When I arrived at the rink, the spectators closed around 
 me and nearly squeezed me to death. I thought when I 
 asked them to please let me through that they would be 
 courteous enough to break away and let me go, but I was 
 naive then about crowds, and never again afterward. I 
 learned in just a few rather dreadful moments that a mass 
 in that mood is not people in the ordinary sense, and it will 
 heed no one, least of all a young girl. 
 
 Father came down to the rink about five minutes behind 
 me. When he saw the jam, he tried to push toward me to 
 help me out. The mob wouldn’t let him. 
 
 "I am Sonja’s father,” he called out. “Let me through. 
 I am the father of the girl who is giving the exhibition!” 
 All he got for his efforts was a peppering of Swedish “Oh 
 yeahs?” It was not until he had identified himself by 
 showing papers, and had finally found some officials, that 
 he succeeded in reaching me and breaking a wedge for me 
 to escape through. On our way back to the hotel, the 
 pressure of the crowd on our automobile windows shat- 
 tered the glass, and, later, smashed the plate glass windows 
 of our hotel. The militia brought order. 
 
 In Copenhagen a few days later, a crowd made other 
 difficulties. This time we were treated to comedy and 
 
 31 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 spared the melodrama. The performance was to be given 
 on Peblinges Island. The water there is not always covered 
 with ice during the cold months, and when an ice surface 
 formed that autumn, the skating club officers hurried their 
 arrangements for an exhibition. They prepared for a few 
 thousand people. The people came, but thirty-five thou- 
 sand strong. Their weight made long, running cracks in 
 the ice. Father took his rotundity ashore with the idea of 
 leaving something for me to skate on. I hardly dared look 
 where I was skating, but I felt I couldn’t quit. They 
 applauded wildly, and I have often wondered whether it 
 was my skating they liked or the spurts of water that 
 geysered behind me. 
 
 A succession of exhibitions in other cities that season 
 of 1928-29, with the Norwegian, European, and world 
 championships as the calendar highpoints, swung us around 
 the Continental circuit at a faster tempo than ever. The 
 1929 world championship was held in the nostalgic city of 
 Budapest, and I had the very gratifying experience of 
 being given the decision unanimously. 
 
 Very young, healthy, and finely trained as I was during 
 that season of my third world championship, I came to 
 realize that performances can be tiring because of the pace 
 of living a champion is forced to keep up day and night 
 despite the greatest desire to live sensibly. Everywhere I 
 went, parties were arranged for me, all with such kind 
 intent and flattering purpose that I could hardly refuse 
 to attend. People wanted me to have a good time while 
 staying in their city. So did I. But I wanted even more 
 to feel fit and fresh for my performances. My hosts and 
 hostesses didn’t realize, I’m sure, that the sequence of skat- 
 ing engagements went on continuously for me from Octo- 
 
 32 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 ber to April, and that if I had all the fun possible in each 
 city, by Christmas I wouldn’t have the stamina for a figure 
 eight. 
 
 Although I insisted on the parties being early, it still 
 seemed I never had an opportunity for a really good sleep. 
 Other difficulties were not so bothersome. I had to abstain 
 from smoking and alcoholic drinks, as I still do today, but 
 since I had never started, this was no deprivation, and once 
 I got used to saying "no thank you,” it was no hardship. 
 Today I pride myself on a flare for declining. Certain rich 
 and indigestible foods were also off my list. Nothing is so 
 senseless as to risk ruining the condition you’ve built up 
 with long care. The demands of training are stern, and it 
 is dangerous to run counter to them. 
 
 The strenuous winter that ended in Budapest was a rest 
 cure compared to the season that followed. The winter of 
 1929-30 brought me to the United States. It seems strange 
 now that there ever was a time when I had not been to the 
 United States, but, in the first two months of 1930, the 
 world championship and I simultaneously made our first 
 appearances in this country that I have since made my own. 
 
 We sailed from Oslo early in December on a little Nor- 
 wegian liner, the Stavanger Fjord. Apart from all else, this 
 was my first crossing of the Atlantic. I can still remember 
 my choking excitement as I stood on the deck watching 
 Europe fade behind me while I thought of all that was to 
 come. More came than I anticipated. 
 
 New York, the city; Madison Square Garden, my first 
 meeting with the American public, indoor crowds of more 
 than 15,000, warm hospitality, understanding hospitality, 
 applause five thousand water-miles from home ; then a tour 
 of American cities as far as the Middle West and Canada, 
 
 33 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 and ovations from Norwegian-born people everywhere. 
 Success in competition — my fourth world championship. 
 It was rich fare for a girl of sixteen, and I was mad about 
 it. Luckily I had been studying English for years along 
 with French and German, and so could make my way 
 around through the experiences with some first-hand idea 
 of what they were all about. 
 
 The New York Skating Club had invited me to take 
 part in its carnival, called "The Land of the Midnight 
 Sun.” This was to be held in January, less than a month 
 before the world championships. I was to be the chief 
 soloist. 
 
 From beginning to end, the whole journey was full of 
 ceremony. We, that is to say, mother, father, and I, were 
 met at the pier in New York by members of Mayor 
 Walker’s "Committee for the Reception of Distinguished 
 Visitors” and the United States Figure Skating Association, 
 and by Maribel, and Beatrix Loughran, who had competed 
 with her at St. Moritz as another member of the United 
 States Olympic team. We were visited early and often by 
 the press. I learned within a few hours of my arrival the 
 special point of view that the American press has — its in- 
 terest in the little things that single one person out from 
 another. The papers made a to-do about my pet pair of 
 skates. I had ten pairs with me, but naturally had one I 
 liked best, a pair that I had worn in most of my important 
 competitions. These became my "Lucky Skates” in the 
 newspaper stories, and much more was said about the fact 
 that father took special care of them for me than was men- 
 tioned about my technique or skating background. 
 
 I had sixteen skating dresses with me, and they all made 
 the papers. They were necessary, not foolish, because they 
 
 34 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 were all different and served the various purposes one has 
 in the course of three months’ skating to public and private 
 — some elaborate, some simple, some warm, others thin, 
 all of them different colors. By the time the other cham- 
 pionship contestants had arrived from Sweden, Austria, 
 England, Canada, and Switzerland, another reason came to 
 light for the accent on my costumes. All of our European 
 skirts were cut shorter than was the custom on American 
 rinks at that time. 
 
 Standing in the skaters’ entrance to the Madison Square 
 Garden ice the opening night of the Ice Carnival, waiting 
 for my cue, I looked into the dark beyond the spotlights 
 and saw the dim faces of 17,000 people rising row above 
 row to the rafters. It was an awesome sensation, and some- 
 times now after years of experience I can feel it still in that 
 moment before I go on. 
 
 My part in the tremendous "Land of the Midnight Sun” 
 pageant was fatiguing, but excellent practice for the 
 championship to be held on the same spot two weeks later. 
 Long, sober, and rather pompous, the carnival involved 
 some hundred skaters and lasted four hours. My number 
 was the finale, and the waiting through all the preceding 
 program, keeping myself keyed up to do my best long after 
 midnight, was pretty much of a strain. The late and ir- 
 regular hours we had to keep throughout the run of the 
 carnival were bad for training, but the compensation of 
 becoming acclimated to the Garden ice and, for me, to the 
 American crowd, more than made up for it. 
 
 Galleries of spectators indoors seem somehow so much 
 more intimately around you than the grandstands do out 
 under the sky. Vast as Madison Square Garden is, one of 
 the two largest indoor arenas in the world, the crowd seems 
 
 35 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 closed in with you, and to be closing you in, as you stand 
 in the spotlight at the bottom of that well of people. When 
 I made my debut in the carnival, I had never had any ex- 
 perience like it, and it was good to get the distraction of 
 the strangeness over with before the day when I needed 
 all my concentration to retain the world title. 
 
 This was no easy stint in 1930. I sometimes think it is 
 harder to stay on top of the pile than to work up from 
 under. The challengers that year all had excellent pro- 
 grams to offer, and each had her impressive specialties. 
 One critic who attended the school figures competition on 
 the Ice Club rink, another part of the enormous building, 
 made some interesting distinctions between the top-rank- 
 ing contestants. I have kept them on paper all these years 
 because they seemed so sharply specific. One rarely gets 
 exact descriptions from officials. We were judged, of 
 course, on our tracings, carriage, overlayings of tracings, 
 and size of figures. This keen observer labeled us this 
 way: Cecil Eustace Smith of Canada, "studied and deter- 
 mined”; Maribel, American champion, representing Bos- 
 ton, "spirited”; Constance, by then Mrs. Constance Wilson 
 Samuel, Canadian and North American champion, "vigor- 
 ous and determined”; Melitta Brunner, Austria, "careful 
 and exact.” He called my efforts "delicately graceful.” My 
 ballet training was showing up, as usual. His words make 
 my execution sound frail, but it sufficed to hold up my 
 defense. School figures count sixty per cent toward one’s 
 total standing. 
 
 New York turned out for the free skating competition 
 in the big arena the next evening as it had for the Ice 
 Carnival. In the wings, preparing none too calmly to face 
 all those thousands of eyes in the galleries, I remember 
 
 3 6 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 checking carefully every detail I could think of — my boots, 
 the sharpness of my blades, whether my gloves were fas- 
 tened and the ornaments on my hair firmly in place. Small 
 things coming loose or being out of order can bring dis- 
 astrous results. Constance had already had her share of 
 hard luck from these little foxes of ice competition. Her 
 skates had been sharpened wrongly, causing her an acci- 
 dent in the final training period and putting her out of the 
 running. Cecil Smith, through some little irregularity in 
 the ice which none of us can control or anticipate, had a 
 fall during her performance, right there with the judges 
 and all the galleries peering at her. However, her school 
 figures had been so beautifully rendered, her recovery from 
 the spill was so suave, and her long swan glides were so 
 superbly controlled, that the judges gave her second place 
 despite the calamity. Maribel’s free skating, full of the 
 quality of flight, carried her into third place, forcing 
 Melitta, who had been third in Budapest, down the ladder. 
 
 Norwegian-Americans fell upon us after the competi- 
 tion, hordes of them. They came over to the Biltmore 
 with us, and when they had crowded into our suite it 
 seemed we should have taken a floor instead. Several of 
 them remembered father from his cycling days at the 
 Bygdoy track and to his vast pleasure recognized him by 
 sight despite the fact that back then he had been less than 
 a shadow of his 1930 self. Others had known him in other 
 activities. Father had not only been the world champion 
 bicyclist, but had won 160 trophies in sports of all sorts, 
 including ski jumping and speed skating. 
 
 The ensuing tour was marked all the way by further 
 Norwegian reacquaintance and reminiscence. I had had 
 no idea there were so many Scandinavians in the United 
 
 37 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 States, but as we moved through New York suburbs, New 
 Haven, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, and Minneapolis en 
 route to Ottawa, large groups of them met us everywhere 
 with the most cordial welcome. 
 
 This tour was, of course, my first in North America, 
 and also, I believe, the first of its kind ever conducted 
 through the United States. The European caravan was 
 making its bow in America, and the United States Figure 
 Skating Association wanted as many skating centers as 
 possible to have opportunity to see what European style 
 was like. Karl Schaefer, the Austrian who succeeded Gillis 
 Grafstrom as the men’s world champion the night of the 
 free skating competition in Madison Square Garden, after 
 Grafstrom had failed at the last minute to defend, was 
 another member of the touring party. Karl and I were 
 individualists and found it difficult to work together, but 
 there was no serious problem. We smoothed out the wrin- 
 kles by sticking to solos. 
 
 We were the guests of honor at countless affairs all along 
 the way. In Minneapolis and St. Paul the aforesaid Nor- 
 wegian tidal wave rose to its peak. It seemed as though 
 father couldn’t move a foot in either city without meet- 
 ing ex-fellow countrymen. Even our cab driver under- 
 stood Norwegian. 
 
 Before we sailed from New York, everyone was pretty 
 well exhausted. For the first time since I had become 
 national champion in 1924, we decided I would not defend 
 the Norwegian title. It would be just too much. The 
 European championship still lay ahead. I received an invi- 
 tation from King George V and Queen Mary (the equiva- 
 lent to a command if I had been British, and, considering 
 my sentiments toward Queen Mary, it was one and the 
 
 38 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 same) to skate in a charity affair to be sponsored by the 
 royal family in London in early March, and another for 
 an exhibition to be attended by the Duke of York. The 
 night before we sailed, the Norwegian Turn Verein in New 
 York gave a farewell ball in our honor, and I performed 
 on a miniature piece of ice, twelve by twelve. 
 
 No air ever seemed fresher, nor decks more peaceful than 
 the Atlantic breeze and the sweep of the Bremen on our 
 way back home. The luxury liner was new then, and the 
 swimming pool, tennis courts, and other facilities made it 
 a wonderful recreation spot, entirely new to me, with my 
 limited transatlantic experience, and so it was doubly 
 appreciated. 
 
 It was nice to be going home, in spite of the fun I had had 
 and the honors that had befallen me. It was the hectic 
 rush and great stretches of travel that I was glad to be 
 leaving, however, not the United States. New York, and 
 even the cities I had seen less of, had filled my mind with 
 memories of genuine people, a direct warmth of acquaint- 
 ance, and wonders of New World cosmopolitanism. These 
 things had stirred up an emotion in me which was finally 
 satisfied when I took out citizenship papers, seven years 
 later. 
 
 One small coincidence that amuses me in a soft, senti- 
 mental way is the fact that the Roxy motion picture 
 theatre in New York impressed me enormously. I went 
 to every feature that played there while I was in the city, 
 passing up chances of getting a broader view of Broadway’s 
 amusement area because the Roxy seemed at once so com- 
 fortable and such a miracle of magnitude and glamour. 
 In later years, all my own films have had their New York 
 openings at the Roxy. 
 
 39 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 It was in the restful summer that followed that the first 
 signs came that my course would some day shift. New ele- 
 ments made their way into the chart. They were so slight 
 and their appearance so subtle that none of us Henies paid 
 much attention at the time, but they show in their true 
 light in retrospect. 
 
 As I lounged around in the sun and played some desul- 
 tory tennis doubles with Leif, friends repeatedly asked me 
 if I weren’t getting tired of competition. So many people 
 wondered out loud to me and to my family about it, that 
 I think the power of suggestion worked a little bit. It 
 occurred to me for the first time that one day I probably 
 would get tired of the eight-month dizzy spin. 
 
 Just then, however, the answer was very definitely, 
 "No.” I still wanted to skate more than anything else, 
 and an eagerness for competition was very alive in me, 
 pressing me on. The merry-go-round has the power 
 of hypnotism. You get so used to whirling from place to 
 place and challenge to challenge that the idea of being at 
 a standstill looks lifeless, colorless, pointless. The state of 
 mind is possibly just a form of being dizzy, but it was very 
 much my state of mind. I didn’t want to step out until 
 there was something more desirable to step into. Thus far 
 no such thing had come into our life. 
 
 I should say, instead, no such thing had taken form. 
 The second straw in the wind that summer was a series 
 of proposals for professional engagements in the United 
 States. I even had one from a film company. But these 
 offers were wholly unacceptable. In the first place they 
 lacked attractions as offers, and in the second place we had 
 no liking for the idea of professionalism. I have since seen 
 where professionalism may lead. I have seen players like 
 
 40 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 Fred Perry and Ellsworth Vines forget the sincere competi- 
 tiveness that inspires amateurs to keep their ability at its 
 best and growing better. I did not have the knowledge of 
 these examples in the summer of 1930, but I had picked 
 up a feeling that more often than not there was something 
 tarnished about the sports of athletes turned professional, 
 and I believe today that if I had not waited until I had 
 run my full amateur course, if I had turned prematurely, 
 my form in skating might never have reached its peak. 
 
 December found me giving an exhibition in Oslo with 
 Karl Schaefer, and January, 1931, another in Copenhagen. 
 In March I was competing in Berlin for what I hoped 
 would be my fifth consecutive world championship. The 
 period of preliminaries there brought me one of the pleas- 
 antest acquaintances of my skating life, and one of the 
 most tragically brief. Little Hilda Holowsky, from Vienna, 
 very young and very pretty, showed in Berlin what I con- 
 sider the greatest talent for skating I have ever encoun- 
 tered. She died before the year was over. She never really 
 got aboard the carrousel. 
 
 I had gone to Berlin expecting Fritzi Burger to be my 
 closest rival, but as the days of practice went by, Hilda 
 became the one whose skating I admired above all and 
 whom I feared the most as a challenger. She was just 
 thirteen, four years younger than I, and her specialities 
 were only partly developed. But her work was fresh and 
 courageous, and she was full of joie de vivre and eagerness. 
 Berlin loved her, and it was no wonder. 
 
 When she placed second, uncomfortably close on my 
 heels in points, beating three far more experienced stars, 
 Fritzi, Maribel, and Vivi-Anne Hulten, then Sweden’s ris- 
 ing national champion, I anticipated that she would be a 
 
 41 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 very serious rival in the 1932 Olympics at Lake Placid, and 
 I also had an intimate realization of the insecurity of 
 crowns. Lake Placid, as I have said, never saw Hilda. Her 
 death was one of skating’s most mournable losses. 
 
 In the early winter, en route to the Continent, I had gone 
 to London and taken some lessons from Howard Nichol- 
 son, who was then just beginning to be hailed internation- 
 ally as master in the instruction of figure skating. This 
 American from the Middle West had set himself up in 
 London, where he would be in closer touch with the major- 
 ity of the world’s ice centers. He made invaluable contri- 
 butions to my progress. His training methods had the 
 remarkable double-barreled power to spur on not only 
 one’s technical development but also one’s attitude. He 
 stirred his pupils to greater competitiveness. Each day he 
 had a new program of work to offer, an integral part of 
 the whole training but an important bit in itself. At the 
 end of several days one could see the separate new additions 
 to one’s packet of specialties and at the same time feel a 
 lift in one’s whole skating level. He gave me a better un- 
 derstanding of my work. He taught me how to use my 
 arms to keep the attention of the public, and what fresh- 
 ness means, and how to sustain verve throughout a pro- 
 gram. 
 
 Nicholson was undoubtedly responsible for part of the 
 wonderful reception I was given in Vienna. My program 
 had never before been at once so spirited and so packed 
 with varied moves. I remember that one critic said I "ex- 
 hibited soft and graceful turns coupled with figures never 
 before seen in Vienna.” Another stressed that my perform- 
 ance didn’t have the appearance of difficulty and effort 
 that characterized the programs of Mme. Szabo-Jaros, 
 
 42 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 Vienna’s established favorite and my one-time 1924 con- 
 queror. It was the new against the old. My skating had 
 dancing in it, as all championship skating does today, and 
 I feel that Nicholson had helped me to offer a better blend 
 than I had before. 
 
 Hilda Holowsky would have carried the new form to its 
 highest had she lived. The championship galleries in Berlin 
 went wild over her performance then. They also shouted 
 and stamped their appreciation of Maribel’s inspired style. 
 We were the new order that Cecilia Colledge and Megan 
 Taylor of England are leading on in amateur competition 
 today. 
 
 Rumor, that unseen sniper that strikes at everyone who 
 walks in the limelight, began taking aim at me before the 
 winter was over. I suppose I had not been prominent long 
 enough to have drawn the fire earlier. 
 
 "What’s this about you turning professional?” a friend 
 said to me in Berlin. Others didn’t ask, just listened and 
 then whispered themselves. 
 
 It is damaging to an amateur to have such gossip spread. 
 People begin getting suspicious of your aims and your ac- 
 tions. It goes on behind your back in distant corners that 
 keep receding as you try to reach them to kill the untruth 
 at its source. 
 
 I don’t know what started the rumors about me. It may 
 have been the fact that we had innocently told a number 
 of people about the offers that had come from America. 
 We told it with laughter, and made no point of proclaim- 
 ing we weren’t considering them, because it seemed self- 
 evident. But people have a flair for heeding what they 
 want to heed and missing the rest. It may also have been 
 the fact that father disapproved of some things the officials 
 
 43 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 of the Norwegian Skating Association did that year, and 
 said so outspokenly. This was undiplomatic, but was scarce- 
 ly a proper foundation for reports that came out in both 
 Europe and the United States, saying: 
 
 "Miss Henie decides to join professional ranks. Her 
 father and manager, complaining that the Norwegian 
 authorities have been no help to his daughter, announces 
 that she will abandon amateurism.” 
 
 It was ridiculous. Worse than that, it was both untrue 
 and harmful. At least the printed reports added that I was 
 not going to change my stance until after the 1932 Olym- 
 pic Games, but that was slight assuagement. 
 
 One very nice thing happened that March to counteract 
 my distress. The Norwegian government presented me 
 with a medal for "versatility and achievement” in sports. 
 It was the first time the distinction had ever been given 
 to a woman. The basis they named was that apart from 
 world and Olympic championships in figure skating, I had 
 also shown ability in "tennis, skiing, swimming, ballet 
 dancing, and horsemanship.” I had been playing a good 
 deal of tennis, summers, and later the same year succeeded 
 in living up to that element of the award by becoming 
 runner-up in our national tournament. My dancing was 
 known because I had been a soloist in recitals before large 
 audiences from the time I was five years old. I had taken a 
 few trophies in skiing and swimming, and had ceased being 
 a "passenger on horseback” several years earlier. The offi- 
 cial recognition of my somewhat all-round adequacy made 
 me very happy. No one, I guess, likes to be thought of as 
 having only one good point in life. 
 
 Fall brought the start of training for the Olympics that 
 were to be held at Lake Placid. It had to be strenuous and 
 
 44 
 
Whirlpool 
 
 careful training. I knew, because youngsters were rising 
 in Europe, England, and America who would soon be able 
 to make it hard for me to stay on top. My new-found 
 enemy, rumor, reappeared in the months that followed, and 
 before the year was out I came to realize that my skating 
 life had taken on a new color. It was no longer a simple, 
 fresh matter of hope, effort, and excitement. The mature 
 phase was to be clouded by the envy and jealousy of rivals 
 and their supporters. My skating no longer belonged to 
 me. It was a public thing. I should have to watch not only 
 my skating but my step. 
 
 45 
 
CHAPTER THREE 
 
 { Trescen 
 
 NEVER HAVE I HAD A SEASON LIKE THE ONE THAT BRIDGED 
 
 late 1931 and early 1932. It was ruled over by a demonic 
 set of Gemini — satisfaction and trouble. 
 
 We left Oslo in August. The winter started well enough, 
 in Paris. For all they say of the charm of Paris in the 
 spring, it is doubly charming in a snowfall. The orna- 
 mented buildings glow luxuriously behind the veil of 
 flakes, like an old duchess smiling behind her fan. Besides 
 this usual beguilement, Paris was particularly enjoyable 
 that winter for the simple reason that I won the European 
 championship there without difficulty, and I was looking 
 forward to my return to the United States in February 
 as a climax to come. 
 
 The Olympic Games at Lake Placid turned out to be a 
 disappointment for all Norwegians. Conditions of weather, 
 and so of competition, were in a state of constant change 
 and therefore troublesome. Our skiers lost their title. It 
 was some relief that the figure skating events went well 
 from our national point of view. 
 
 There was no little Hilda Holowsky to thrust her way 
 through the front rank, but the rank was strong and the 
 
 46 
 
Crescendo 
 
 victory equivalently gratifying. Fritzi Burger, Maribel 
 Vinson, and Constance Samuel were in the field, and placed 
 in that order behind me. Sweden’s favorite, Vivi-Anne 
 Hulten, was also crowding the line, with Yvonne de Ligne 
 of Belgium and the two British youngsters, Megan Taylor 
 and Cecilia Colledge. I felt I had really achieved some- 
 thing when the title was still mine at the end. 
 
 Apart from the stiff skating competition, the Games 
 left the Europeans with few memories. Lake Placid was 
 too far removed from our ice world. It was utterly unlike 
 Garmisch-Partenkirchen in 1936, where the scene of com- 
 petition was at the center, the burning point. Too many 
 outsiders at Placid reduced the Games as a whole to tame- 
 ness. 
 
 The flurry of packing trunks, making adieus, and board- 
 ing trains out of that beautiful if distressing spot in the 
 Adirondack Mountains was accomplished more quickly 
 than usual as the caravan shoved off for Montreal and the 
 world championships. We had a gay time in the Canadian 
 metropolis, but before it was through a storm gathered 
 over my head. 
 
 Two clubs in Canada had invited me to skate in their 
 carnivals. The invitations had come before we left Europe. 
 Father did not accept either of them, because he felt he 
 could not anticipate how tired I would be when the Olym- 
 pics were over. We had, on the other hand, said "Yes” to 
 the New York Skating Club. Its carnival was to be in 
 March. There would be plenty of time to rest up after 
 the sojourn in Placid even if the Olympic program did turn 
 out to be strenuous. 
 
 Somehow these facts got distorted before we arrived in 
 Montreal. Both Canadian clubs advertised in advance that 
 
 47 
 
Crescendo 
 
 I would take part in their shows. Father was furious. 
 When he told the club officials firmly that I had not said 
 I would appear, and that I would not, they became furious. 
 And then rumor, gossip, and downright libel began 
 spreading all the way down the American continent and 
 goodness knows how far beyond. It was printed in big 
 type in newspapers that father, as my manager, had made 
 exorbitant demands for expense money, that for that rea- 
 son I would not appear in either of the Canadian exhibi- 
 tions, and that my attitude was scandalous in one still "pre- 
 tending to be an amateur.” 
 
 If anyone wants to know what it is like to feel dread- 
 fully sick without physical cause, I recommend such a sit- 
 uation. I left Canada determined never to go back, but 
 of course that was impulse, and in recent years I’ve not 
 only gone back but had many happy weeks in all parts of 
 the Dominion. 
 
 At the time, however, I was too full of turbulent emo- 
 tions to do anything but get to New York as fast as I 
 could. When I reached there, I found statements that I 
 had turned professional had preceded me. I didn’t know 
 what to do. I finally got it across to a few members of 
 the press, who somehow had stayed open-minded, that if 
 I had had a desire to turn professional I would have done 
 so the year before, when offers were made me; that neither 
 I nor my family wanted any money paid us for my com- 
 petition or exhibition appearances (father had money 
 enough, heaven knows) and that we had never had any 
 idea of accepting any more than the usual expense cover- 
 age allowed all contestants. The fact that I had my mother 
 and father with me was no more than natural. Girls of 
 eighteen don’t go on half-year foreign junkets without 
 chaperonage and guidance, even if they are skaters. 
 
 48 
 
Crescendo 
 
 When the shouting and the slander died, it seemed to me 
 I had never been so tired in my life. All I wanted to do was 
 give my performance in the friendly New York club’s 
 affair and go home. New York’s officials and reporters and 
 public proved themselves real friends. They were kind and 
 understanding, and before the final evening at Madison 
 Square Garden the whole matter had faded into the past. 
 It had, however, left its mark on me. Father had explained 
 that things like this happen sometimes when people feel 
 they have to save face. The club officials had promised the 
 public I would appear. When they found I really was not 
 going to, they had to do something about their broken 
 promise and the tickets that had been sold in advance on 
 the strength of it. This explanation cleared my mind about 
 the situation, but I could scarcely go back to a naive belief 
 that all that’s amateur is ideal. 
 
 We sailed finally on the lie de France. All the way across 
 I kept concentrating on how glad I was to have won the 
 Olympic championship a second time, and willfully not 
 thinking about other incidents. Back in pleasant Paris I 
 soothed myself in the balm of a highly successful exhibi- 
 tion. A gigantic crowd filled the Palais des Sports, and 
 it seemed to me I could hear each person clapping warmly, 
 without suspicion. 
 
 Oslo gave me a welcome in April that is among my 
 sweetest memories. It was early evening. Several thousand 
 of my countrymen had gone down to the East Railway 
 Station, where the boat trains come in. Their cheers rose 
 over the last roars of the engine. The Norwegian Olympic 
 Committee held a fete in my honor at the Hotel Bristol, 
 and bygones became bygones. 
 
 I think the summer that followed was the first time I 
 seriously considered retiring. For a while it seemed to me 
 
 49 
 
Crescendo 
 
 it would be possible to go on skating without entering any- 
 more competitions. 
 
 August brought an interlude of complete distraction 
 from skating and its problems. There was to be an automo- 
 bile race in Stockholm for amateur drivers. For some rea- 
 son or other they decided to invite me to enter. I had been 
 driving my own car for some time, but certainly not in a 
 public fashion. Whatever gave them the notion that I 
 might be interested I don’t know, but the upshot was that 
 they not only invited me to enter but begged me. It seemed 
 ridiculous at first, and then I suddenly developed a terrific 
 fancy for going and perhaps winning the race. I had a 
 good Chrysler roadster that could make nice unlawful 
 speeds. Father said I shouldn’t go. My acceptance was 
 delayed. The race officials wired that if I’d ship my car, 
 I could wait until the last moment myself and they’d send 
 a special plane for me. 
 
 I had a marvelous time. The race was cross country, 
 and quite an insane venture. It lasted three days, with 
 reasonable interludes for sleeping and eating. I was very 
 proud of the fact that I placed second. I and my Chrysler, 
 I should say, since if it had not been more than trustworthy 
 I should not be setting down these reminiscences now. 
 According to my brother Leif, the exploit had a very bad 
 effect. He says that for weeks thereafter I was unable to 
 drive at less than seventy miles an hour, and that every 
 time he had to ride with me he prayed the whole way. 
 
 The race did blow all ideas of retirement from my mind. 
 On my return to Oslo I made plans immediately for the 
 autumn, and soon I was on my way to Paris and Milan for 
 the start of a new season. Milan saw the debut of my Swan 
 number. I had worked months preparing my ice version 
 
 50 
 
Crescendo 
 
 of Pavlowa’s transcendant solo. There was a moment when 
 I stood before the mirror in my dressing room, looking at 
 the white feather wings on my arms, counterpart of the 
 ballerina’s costume, and felt consumed with pride and 
 humility. I was about to put ballet on ice in recognizable 
 form, after all those years of imagining it. The Italian 
 audience rewarded me. They cried "brava” and stamped 
 and cheered. That night a new era of my skating opened. 
 Since then my solos have all been designed to have both 
 the dance and the theatre plainly in them. 
 
 The championships, including my seventh world com- 
 petition at Stockholm, were rather uneventful that win- 
 ter. It was an interlude of lull between the stormy Olympic 
 season and a year full of incident. 
 
 In Paris, in December, 1933, my Swan entrance was 
 greeted by a chorus of tin-whistle bleats from the top 
 gallery. Clapping ultimately drowned them out, but it 
 had not been a nice moment. Early the next morning my 
 good friend M. Berretrot, announcer, headed a group of 
 Palais des Sports officials in a brisk investigation which 
 disclosed that a rival, the French champion at that time, 
 had bought and distributed tickets for the claque, giving 
 a whistle and precise instructions with each ticket. M. 
 Berretrot announced the findings at the start of the second 
 evening’s performance. The young lady sued, but got 
 nowhere. 
 
 February brought me a sentimental victory. I retained 
 the world championship in Oslo before King Haakon, 
 Queen Maude, Crown Prince Olaf, and Princess Martha. 
 Weather and rink conditions were excellent, and the crowd 
 was enormous for Frogner Stadium. Fifteen thousand 
 packed the grandstand, and another three thousand or so 
 
 51 
 
Crescendo 
 
 stood on the surrounding hills. Throughout the competi- 
 tion I kept remembering my first world championship 
 eight years before on the same ice, and the first pink carna- 
 tions the royal family of my country had ever given me. 
 
 A month later I made peace with Canada. The Toronto 
 Skating Club had invited Karl Schaefer, reigning men’s 
 champion of Europe, the world, and the Olympics, little 
 Hedy Stenuf, also of Austria, and me to star in its twenty- 
 seventh annual carnival. We all went. It was my first 
 visit to Toronto, and it was delightful. No one so much 
 as asked me if I ever thought I might consider turning 
 professional. 
 
 Five weeks of carnivals in the United States followed. 
 New York liked my Swan, without whistles. In Chicago, 
 18,200 persons saw the exhibition’s two-night stand in the 
 stadium, which, incidentally, is the only one larger than 
 Madison Square Garden. I went on to Minneapolis and 
 found an equal crowd still more enthusiastic. The tour 
 came to an end for me in Muskegan, in the State of Mich- 
 igan, where father and mother wanted to visit some friends. 
 Altogether I felt I was becoming acquainted with the 
 United States, and dimly aware that an enormous interest 
 in figure skating shows lay waiting among the American 
 public. 
 
 If the International Skating Federation had not had a 
 moment of whimsy in November, 1934, I might have paid 
 another visit to the United States that very next winter. 
 They made an announcement from Stockholm that I 
 would not be permitted to give "exhibitions” in the United 
 States that year unless the Amateur Skating Union of 
 America agreed to pay a percentage of my "performance 
 receipts” to the I. S. F. 
 
 52 
 
Crescendo 
 
 Joseph K. Savage, a former president of the Amateur 
 Skating Union, the American parent body, and in 1934 a 
 member of the executive committee of the United States 
 Figure Skating Association, acting as its spokesman, re- 
 plied the next day that the I. S. F.’s action "perplexed” 
 him. In the first place, he stated clearly, I had never skated 
 in the United States in any type of performances other 
 than competitions, in which "receipts” were barely ade- 
 quate to cover the expenses of running the affairs, and in 
 charity carnivals, in which whatever was left in proceeds 
 after production bills had been paid went to the beneficiary. 
 "What,” he wanted to know, "have any such moneys to 
 do with the I. S. F.?” Fie further pointed out that no 
 official meeting of the I. S. F. had been held in Stockholm, 
 and so he was at a loss to understand from what source 
 the demand came anyway. 
 
 The Norwegian Skating Federation ultimately stepped 
 in and said I had full permission to appear in the United 
 States as and when I chose without strings on America’s 
 competitions or its charities. The odd part of it all was 
 that no official plans had been made either by the U. S. 
 F. S. A. or by me for a trip to the States that winter. It 
 had asked me tentatively whether I would consider going 
 in case it should decide to present another formal car- 
 nival in New York, but the idea was completely nebulous. 
 Before the incident had closed, New York did officially 
 invite me, but it was late then for me to make arrange- 
 ments. Promises I had made to appear in European events 
 would have had to be canceled and the American journey 
 done in a rush, so I felt obliged to decline. I heard whispers 
 later that I had gone temperamental on my American 
 friends. I could only hope they themselves didn’t listen. 
 
 53 
 
Crescendo 
 
 Incidents like that one were sometimes foolish enough to 
 be amusing, but they did not contribute to a feeling that 
 retirement would be very peaceful. 
 
 That winter of 1934-35 is memorable for a number of 
 things, among them a proof that I had become a Public 
 Figure. People began making up romances about me. 
 They coupled my name with that of Jackie Dunn. In 
 Hollywood such things are to be expected, but in the 
 amateur skating paths of Europe two years before I had 
 a cinema idea in my head, it was embarrassing. I spent 
 the winter scattering denials as I went. It was excellent 
 training for the professional years that have come since, 
 but it was hard on Jackie to be involved in my schooling 
 in the ways of a film player. 
 
 He was, indeed, a very good friend of mine, but the 
 idea of an engagement between us gave us both a good 
 laugh along with the headache. Jackie had won my admir- 
 ation as England’s young rising skater. He was second in 
 the world championship behind Karl, and I believed he 
 would go to the top. His free skating was magnificent. 
 Our two years as skating partners brought some of the 
 happiest skating times I’ve ever had. When they came to 
 an end in Hollywood with his dreadfully untimely death, 
 I felt I should never have such a skating friend again, 
 because he had been a challenge with which to keep pace. 
 Our partnership was just beginning in 1935 when the 
 rumors started buzzing. I was fond of him, but that was 
 scarcely the verge of marriage. 
 
 I had a fall during one of the special events held while I 
 was training at St. Moritz for the European championship 
 to be held there that winter. I’ve luckily seldom had a 
 fall during performances in my entire skating life. They 
 
 54 
 
Courtesy of 20th Century Fox 
 
 The Ballet Kick 
 
 Sonja Henie with 
 Tyrone Power 
 
 * f .: 7.3 
 
The Dying Swan 
 
Crescendo 
 
 are important in competition if the judges feel they indi- 
 cate inadequate control, but they are quite unimportant 
 in exhibitions. Everyone knows no skater can be sure he 
 won’t strike an imperfection in the ice and trip. But this 
 one resulted in my finding out just how much use can be 
 made of an innocent fact by people who wish one no good. 
 
 With the European title mine for a seventh year, I 
 moved on toward the scene of the world championships. 
 Arriving in Vienna, a city that had always before given 
 me a warm reception, I found the press none too friendly 
 and the atmosphere in general one of having forgotten me. 
 
 Thanks to the fact that some of my many friends in 
 Vienna were true ones, I soon discovered the cause. Jan 
 Kiepura, the singer, had been a staunch part of the Vien- 
 nese skating group for many years and, I had thought, 
 had been a good friend of mine. I had seen him often dur- 
 ing training periods, and sometimes during competitions. 
 He had been at St. Moritz. Burning with a desire to boost 
 his compatriot, little Eledy Stenuf, he had hurried back 
 to Vienna with the story that my fall indicated the end 
 of the career of Sonja Henie, skater. I became, as the 
 rumor grew, practically a thing of the past. 
 
 Hedy became her home city’s overwhelming favorite for 
 the world title. There were a few other obstacles in Hedy’s 
 path besides me, such as the stars of England, Sweden, and 
 central Europe, including another fine young Austrian 
 skater, Lisa Lotte Landbeck, but these were all disregarded 
 in the booming wave of Hedy-optimism. 
 
 It was bitter cold in the city when I went to the Engle- 
 man Rink for the competition. The rink is rich in tradi- 
 tion. It had seen many historic events throughout the 
 years. The ice, as expected, had been prepared in the old 
 
 55 
 
Crescendo 
 
 way. It was far from smooth. Despite the zero tempera- 
 ture, the Vienna public was there, hailing their Hedy and 
 anticipating the realization of Kiepura’s prediction. I was 
 glad to be going on after her and so have a chance to adapt 
 myself to her technique. 
 
 Wild ovations greeted her as she skated out on the wavy 
 ice. Hedy was the soloist, we the additions. The music 
 began. She was really splendid. But her program was too 
 much for her. It was obvious from her first moment that, 
 popular favorite though she was, I needn’t fear her as a 
 competitor. It was so obvious, in fact, that I had time to 
 get over my sense of relief and begin to feel sorry for her. 
 Taking Kiepura’s story for the truth, she had become over- 
 confident and had permitted a top-heavy program to be 
 pressed on her. She fell, right at the climax. This was com- 
 petition, world competition. And the fall was due to loss 
 of control. The public’s enthusiasm, to say nothing of the 
 judge’s rating, fell with her. 
 
 When it was time for me to appear, a number of 
 thoughts were struggling for mastery within me, but I 
 held one on top — that I must not fall. Suddenly I was in 
 the spotlight, the music was playing, and I was drifting 
 over the ice waves. I had perceived in advance that the 
 corners were best for my performance, the center too risky, 
 and all went well. Vivi-Anne placed second. 
 
 There have been many championships that were hard- 
 earned, and many that I cherished, but none that gave me 
 the elation of that one. The Kiepura story had haunted 
 me and my family and those who were my real friends. 
 We knew it was foundationless, but it had not been pleas- 
 ant to see that questioning look in people’s faces — was 
 Sonja Henie through? Now the expression had vanished. 
 
 56 
 
Crescendo 
 
 I went home to rest. Mother, father, and Jackie were 
 with me, Jackie as far as Holland. This started rumors 
 again that we were engaged. It was ridiculous. It is true 
 that when you travel with the caravan you develop an 
 enormous acquaintance, but the intensive skating program 
 doesn’t permit you to spend time making many of them 
 into deep friendships. I suppose, for this reason, my seeing 
 any one person a good deal looked like a possible story to 
 those who wanted to find stories. But it did seem that they 
 might have realized that skating partners, particularly 
 when congenial at all, spend more time together than with 
 other skaters, and left us unmolested. 
 
 I remember losing my patience one time and snapping 
 at a reporter: "If you are determined to print something 
 about marriage and me, you may be interested to know 
 that I receive offers of marriage from all sorts of people. 
 I get them by letter from people I’ve never seen. Further- 
 more, I have had a few from people I really like. Now 
 make what you can of that, but at least do me and my 
 friends the grace of keeping it general.” 
 
 The outburst chagrined me, but I felt better for having 
 vented my feelings at last. I fortunately had told the man 
 one thing I would be glad to have printed — I was too busy 
 being a skater and trying to hold my place on the merry- 
 go-round to daydream about romances. 
 
 Back home in Oslo I settled down for a complete rest. 
 For the first time in my life I had been nervously keyed 
 up those preceding weeks. Before that I had never known 
 what nerves were, and had been skeptical about just how 
 much of a bother "being nervous” could be. But I knew 
 by then. I decided I would relax and not think about skat- 
 ing until the old eagerness to feel the ice under my feet 
 
 57 
 
Crescendo 
 
 came back to me. I also decided that the coming Olympic 
 season of 1935-36 should be my last in competition. To 
 be sure that I really wanted it to be that way, I gave myself 
 a month to think it over. 
 
 Swimming in the calm summer sea, letting the sun beat 
 my skin hot on the beach, cooling off with long rides in 
 the streak of a Cord roadster the Norwegian-Americans 
 had given me, I leisurely looked over the past nine years 
 since I had first become world champion, and I looked 
 ahead. Taking it quietly like that, I grew certain I would 
 feel satisfied I had run my amateur course to its end if I 
 could round out a decade of ten world championships and 
 three Olympic titles. No one else had done that in any 
 sport. Whatever might come after, if I went on, would 
 inevitably seem anticlimax. 
 
 A short time later I was asked publicly what my plans 
 were, and I said that I would go through one more season 
 and then retire. The statement was spread abroad, even 
 cabled to the United States, and my future was sealed. 
 What I should do instead of competing was a problem I 
 hadn’t faced. It was not settled for some time. Vaguely 
 I was aware that I would never quit skating entirely, that 
 I should like in some way to go on with my efforts at devel- 
 oping the ballet on ice, and that a new desire had been 
 born in me during my trips to America — a wish to help 
 more of the energetic, enthusiastic people of that country 
 become interested in skating. I had been impressed with 
 the fact that few Americans realized the fun of skating 
 compared to the tremendous number who would love it 
 if they were ever introduced to the ice. What to do with 
 all these impulses was a pleasant mystery I didn’t bother 
 with then. 
 
 58 
 
Crescendo 
 
 By August I felt very fit and on edge to start training. 
 I had a notion the season to come would be the busiest, 
 most demanding, and most dramatic I had ever had. The 
 main ports of call were to be Berlin, for the European 
 championship, Garmisch-Partenkirchen for the Olympic 
 Games, and Paris for the world championships. Between 
 these jumps, I was to take part in exhibitions all over the 
 Continent. 
 
 I went down to London to start, and found Megan 
 Taylor and Cecilia Colledge at work before me. England’s 
 two fifteen-year-olds, one pert, the other lanky and bril- 
 liant, had gained polish since the end of the previous sea- 
 son, and that meant fresh spice in the contests to come. 
 Germany’s young hopefuls were there too. Howard Nich- 
 olson, the transplanted American, was drawing new pupils 
 from all over the world. 
 
 In London and wherever else I went, I found young 
 skaters using training methods I had originated. All were 
 selecting their own retreats, retiring to them with their 
 trainers, and putting in long periods of concentrated work. 
 Watching them, I felt like a veteran, wise in the ways of 
 the ice world, but too wise to be overconfident. No small 
 challenge rang in their impassioned young efforts. 
 
 The first days in London I threw myself into practice 
 on a much too heavy schedule and got a set of aching 
 muscles for my zeal. Then we slowed the tempo, Nicholson 
 and I. Gradually all the things I should have to remember 
 in the Olympic Games were rehearsed and re-rehearsed, and 
 finally we pieced together the free skating program I would 
 offer in defense of the title. I took part in the making of 
 an instructional film, and so had a prophetic taste of work- 
 ing before a camera. This netted some more slanderous 
 
 59 
 
Crescendo 
 
 hints about professionalism, both for me and for Karl 
 Schaefer, who had been in it with me, but we outlasted 
 the enemy. All the time in London was instructive, one 
 way or another, and passed too quickly. At the end there 
 was the matter of prevailing upon Nicholson to be my 
 trainer during the important competitions ahead. 
 
 I reached Paris in mid-October, and from then until 
 the end of February hardly went three days without hear- 
 ing the rumble of train wheels beneath me. Starting in my 
 haunted old haunt, the Palais des Sports, I followed the 
 route of exhibitions to Brussels, Basel, Bern, Zurich, 
 Munich, Prague, back to Oslo, and then into the high gear 
 of competition in Berlin. During my tour I met Kiepura, 
 who was making a film. The St. Moritz-Vienna incident 
 had been a misunderstanding, he said. I went to see him 
 at work, and it was as before — St. Moritz and its aftermath 
 were forgotten. 
 
 Prague, just after 1936 had been born, held a special 
 welcome. The old university city charmed one quickly, 
 in the days before Czecho-Slovakia ceased to be. A more 
 receptive public would be hard to find. Eight thousand 
 school children attended one performance, and in a friendly 
 young way tore my clothes off getting autographs. Before 
 we left I had the honor of being received at the Palace by 
 President Masaryk. 
 
 The brief respite mother, father, and I took in Oslo 
 served as a springboard from which to plunge into the 
 current of competition that was to sweep me to the end 
 of my amateur course. We traveled to Berlin with a sense 
 of approaching climax mounting as each mile clacked into 
 the past. 
 
 The old Adlon Hotel was alive with skaters. The stair- 
 
 60 
 
Crescendo 
 
 case that rigid Prussian officers had climbed in the days 
 of the Emperor, creaked under the running feet of young 
 athletes from all over the world. Those who proved them- 
 selves good in the European championships there in Ber- 
 lin would go on as their countries’ representatives to the 
 Olympic Games in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. The others 
 would have hopes to revive, if they were new in the ranks; 
 memories to look back on, if they were old. 
 
 Tension rose for all of us as we practiced together in 
 the Sports Palast. Especially for me. There was so much 
 at stake — the finale of all my years of skating. I cared 
 more in advance about winning then, than in any other 
 winter of my life. I wanted to go out at the top. 
 
 More than five thousand people appeared in the Sports 
 Palast early each morning to watch us train. Berlin is one 
 of the most ice-skating-conscious cities in the world. It 
 spends huge sums each year keeping up its indoor rinks. 
 The skating public is large and faithful. 
 
 I was glad the event was to be held indoors in the Sports 
 Palast. I have always liked working under spotlights. As 
 you skate, they help in the creation of the mood you are 
 trying to convey with your movements. I knew the Sports 
 Palast well, and its public. I felt at home in it. The nervous- 
 ness I had had eased away. 
 
 On the eve of the competition I made a formal an- 
 nouncement that I would retire after the winter’s cham- 
 pionships were over. That burned my last bridge. The 
 papers printed my past record, and the number of Euro- 
 pean, world, and Olympic titles I would have won if I 
 succeeded in defending all three. Seeing the figures in 
 headlines drove home the coming weeks’ challenge a new 
 way. It was no longer just I who knew that this was to 
 
 61 
 
Crescendo 
 
 be my farewell season. The eyes of the whole skating 
 world would be peering to see how I’d make my exit. 
 
 My program was the same one I was going to offer in 
 Garmisch and at Paris — a special number, timed for four 
 minutes and taking exactly four minutes. Mother and 
 father and some of our countrymen sat at the end of the 
 rink, waving at me just before I went on. 
 
 "No one can take the title from you, girl,” my father 
 said. 
 
 And no one did. Cecilia Colledge was close enough 
 behind me in points, and Megan behind her, however, to 
 prick me with awareness that I could not relax in any 
 detail if I were to go on as I had started. It was one down 
 and two to go, and the stakes were rising higher. 
 
 Before we left Berlin, I had a chance to discover what 
 a charming person former Crown Prince Wilhelm was. I 
 met him at a reception and found to my surprise that 
 he was very well informed on skating matters and quite an 
 enthusiast. Among my most cherished possessions is a 
 Hohenzollern crest stick pin which he gave me after one 
 of my performances, saying apologetically that he was 
 sorry he had no flowers there, and would I accept the pin 
 as a token of admiration, instead. I don’t know yet how 
 one copes with such grace. 
 
 We left Berlin in rather a hurry as soon as the European 
 championships had been decided. Everyone considered the 
 Olympic Games the real climax of the season, the world 
 championships later in Paris a paler matter. For four 
 years, countries on all sides of the seven seas had been 
 preparing for the Olympics. There is no pageantry in the 
 whole sports world like the ceremonies that bracket the 
 Games and punctuate their progress. 
 
 62 
 
Crescendo 
 
 My family, Nicholson, and I settled down in the little 
 Bavarian village of Garmisch-Partenkirchen three weeks 
 before the Games were to open. I wanted to acclimate 
 myself and have a bit of practice in peace. The Alpenhof 
 Hotel, an inn with more fame than facilities, was to be 
 the center of many of the activities during the Games. 
 When we arrived, it housed the Olympic officials and a 
 few of my rivals, but within ten days it bulged and 
 groaned with a horde of winter athletes of every descrip- 
 tion. We had been none too early. 
 
 I did most of my training at a small rink on the out- 
 skirts of the village. From time to time I joined the others 
 on the Stadium rink to keep a check on conditions. The 
 congestion increased, and the tension with it. Rumors 
 began scurrying through the Olympic village — about the 
 skiers, bobsledders, and speed skaters, about all of us figure 
 skaters, about my form and my rivals’ form, and especially 
 about the judges. In Berlin there had been no Norwegian 
 judge. I had been entitled to a judge of my own national- 
 ity. No matter how impartial judges are supposed to be, 
 they are human, and biases do occasionally raise their ugly 
 heads. For a while it looked as though there would be no 
 Norwegian among the Olympic judges. I had some bad 
 moments, wondering about this, and whether my rivals 
 were getting in better training than I, and whether I 
 should really be able to round out nine years on the Olym- 
 pic crest, spanning three titles, when no one had ever done 
 it before. 
 
 Against me I had not only the two English girls who 
 had been right on my heels in Berlin, but Maribel Vinson, 
 the accomplished American champion, whom I feared even 
 more. All apart from her inspired free skating, she was 
 
 6 3 
 
Crescendo 
 
 always popular with the crowd and should be even more 
 so this time. I had seen the rose velvet dress she was going 
 to wear with violets, and I knew the effect would be en- 
 chanting under the shadow of her black hair. My costume 
 was white. 
 
 Besides these three formidable opponents, there also were 
 champions from every continent. Tiny Etsuko Inada of 
 Japan had more than a little to offer. Vivi-Anne Hulten 
 of Sweden; Hedy Stenuf, wiser, I was sure, from the 
 Vienna episode; Constance Wilson Samuel of Canada; Lisa 
 Lotte Landbeck, Hedy’s compatriot from Austria; and so 
 many others I can’t remember them all, made up a field 
 of twenty-three stars from twelve countries. 
 
 The Stadium lay in a pocket of Alpine peaks. Above the 
 rink in successive tiers rose grandstand, village, Alps. At 
 the bottom, it seemed as though the whole world were 
 looking down on our little piece of ice. Everything was 
 blue-white but the small overhanging houses that broke 
 into brilliance at night. The road from the village swung 
 up a shoulder of hill towering directly above the Stadium, 
 and on that hill the Olympic fire was to be lighted and to 
 flame there throughout the days of competition. 
 
 Teams, wearing the blinding colors of their national 
 flags, lined up in columns in the village for the parade up 
 the hill and altar-lighting ceremony that would open the 
 Games. As we fell in line and started the march, snow 
 flurries dusted down on us, hushing the scene. Hardly any- 
 one spoke on the way up the hill, and from the moment the 
 flame shot up in the altar, and brasses blared the Olympic 
 anthem, I doubt that any contestant was quite right in 
 the head until it was all over. 
 
 In the school figure competition I took a small lead. 
 
 64 
 
Crescendo 
 
 Cecilia was very close in second place. My title hung on 
 what I should do in the free skating finale. This was 
 scheduled for dinner time the last night of the Games. It 
 was the next to the last event on the entire Olympic pro- 
 gram, and I was to be the last contestant to skate. 
 
 To eliminate unbearable waiting, I followed my old ex- 
 hibition custom and stayed soundly asleep in bed until 
 father telephoned from the Stadium that there was only an 
 hour. That way I could go from the hotel right out on the 
 ice, fresh and rested, without having to stand around 
 through introductory events, and the nerve-straining chal- 
 lenges of my rivals. 
 
 It was evening when I left the Alpenhof. The moun- 
 taintops held up a dark blue sky pierced by the flame on 
 the hilltop. Below lay a white glare, the Stadium. 
 
 On the rim of the rink, I listened to the music mounting 
 toward my cue. More than two hundred thousand specta- 
 tors surrounded the ice, I knew, but I could scarcely see 
 them beyond the glitter the arc lights made. I shut every- 
 thing out of my mind but three things — I led in points, 
 the ice was not too good, I must be careful. From some- 
 where in the distance, chords vibrated in crescendo. I 
 moved out on the ice. 
 
 Four minutes later, there was cheering behind me. Then 
 the mobbing congratulations of the whole Scandinavian 
 contingent. Then the announcement. I was Olympic 
 champion a third time, my last. 
 
 Torches flamed in double procession from the village to 
 the high altar, where the Olympic fire burned with only 
 a few moments left of life. The contestants were in 
 columns again, facing up the hill, and around us milled the 
 gigantic crowd, also looking up the hill. Skiers, carrying 
 
 65 
 
Crescendo 
 
 the Olympic flag between them, began their descent from 
 the hilltop. When they joined us, we all stood at attention. 
 As we watched, the Olympic fire slowly died. 
 
 After that there was Paris, and the world champion- 
 ships. Cecilia and Maribel were not there, nor half a dozen 
 other stars. It was not hard. I had my victory. Within 
 thirty days I had signed a contract with Arthur Wirtz to 
 give eight exhibitions in the United States, as a professional. 
 
 66 
 
CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 (Climax 
 
 AFTER MAKING THE DECISION TO TURN PROFESSIONAL, I 
 sailed from Le Havre within the week. Ahead of me 
 lay a whole new life. After I had signed my contract 
 to turn professional on arrival in the United States, I 
 wanted to make my way into Hollywood, to see what 
 could be done about bringing figure skating before all 
 sorts of people everywhere. I wanted to stretch out in a 
 new, wide-open field where I could go as far as I liked in 
 my effort to turn skating into dancing on ice. I wanted, 
 also, if it were possible, to make some money, so that I 
 could repay my father with more than affection for all 
 the thousands upon thousands he had spent in my long 
 years on the amateur merry-go-round. A big ice show 
 that might go on tour was another possibility besides 
 Hollywood as a path toward those goals. 
 
 It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be on 
 the road toward becoming a professional, even though a 
 short time before I had felt outraged over rumors that I 
 .had then changed my status. It is one thing to be an 
 
 67 
 
Climax 
 
 amateur suspected of accepting money on the sly. It is 
 another to be an acknowledged professional. 
 
 My interest in competition was thoroughly dead. I had 
 prodded it with some of my happiest reminiscences, and 
 found not the slightest answering stir. After more than 
 a decade I had at last had enough of the perennial hectic 
 whirl through same places, same efforts, same struggle with 
 gossip and jealousy, and much the same rivals. 
 
 I wondered that I hadn’t known all along that I would 
 ultimately join the professional ranks. I had known that 
 anything might happen to me and my skating except that 
 it would stop, but I hadn’t realized that this would be the 
 next step. I suppose that was because professionalism in 
 skating had grown up with me, and I had been so busy 
 with my own development on the parallel track that I 
 had not noticed what was happening alongside, until I 
 came to a stop and looked around me. All sorts of offers 
 from show managers, sports promoters, and film companies 
 had come to me in my last year or so in competition. When 
 I decided to retire, and began to face about and look for a 
 new track to jump onto, I was glad I had not been tempted 
 to take up any of those first small offers, but I saw that 
 the track itself was a good one. There was a public in 
 nearly every civilized country for good figure skating. 
 This public could be increased enormously if skating were 
 presented more attractively than rules of competition and 
 small budgets of club exhibits permitted. There was a 
 public waiting for dancing on ice, for ice spectacle. The 
 cinema would be a perfect medium to give skating this 
 scope, and the cinema thus far had no figure skating worth 
 noticing. The big indoor arenas in American cities would 
 serve well as theatres for a touring ice show. There was a 
 place for a skating star. 
 
 68 
 
Climax 
 
 Five days on the decks of the lie de France gave me a 
 good dose of rest, and blew away all feeling of uncertainty. 
 Jack was considering leaving the amateurs with me, and 
 had come along on the trip across. We had had nibbles of 
 interest from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and some other com- 
 panies. 
 
 I’ll confess I had some qualms as we steamed quietly up 
 New York harbor. The mass of skyscrapers seemed to look 
 down on me from their gray stone height and say, "What 
 makes you think you can scale the walls of professional 
 success?” However, I had been fighting challenges all my 
 life, so I merely thought, "What are you to say I can’t?” 
 and rode on up the river. The welcome we found waiting 
 for us at the pier would have given me courage if I had been 
 the faint-hearted type. 
 
 As mother, father, Jack, and I went down the gang- 
 plank, we found a big group waving to us from below. 
 There were skaters and skating officials, old friends, and a 
 mob of newspaper reporters. I had hardly set foot on the 
 pier when it began — who was I marrying — where was I 
 going — what plans did I have — how long would I stay? 
 So I answered. My aim? Hollywood. My plans — Holly- 
 wood. My marrying anyone — no thanks! No time, no 
 interest, no "one” — yet. I knew I had to be patient with 
 all this from then on. Publicity was going to be important, 
 if I were to be a professional. The papers came out the 
 next day with phrases like "the golden girl from the snow- 
 lands,” "Norway’s Pavlowa of the ice,” "the trim little ash 
 blonde with the saucy nose.” Dear me, but they were being 
 kind. They apparently liked me, and that was very, very 
 helpful. 
 
 This was in March, 1936. I signed with Arthur Wirtz. 
 
 69 
 
Climax 
 
 I was to skate four performances in New York and four 
 in Chicago. Jack and I practiced at the Ice Club. The 
 skaters and the critics remarked on Jack’s "astonishing 
 pace,” the "agility and accuracy” of his jumps, and called 
 me "better than ever,” saying my poise and confidence 
 made my repertoire "seem effortless.” These were encour- 
 aging straws in the wind. Ultimately Jackie also signed with 
 Arthur Wirtz. Besides the important eight performances 
 on my contract, I agreed to give exhibitions in various 
 other cities, and my itinerary finally included seventeen 
 appearances in nine cities between March 24 and April 15, 
 including Madison Square Garden the last three days of 
 March, and going as far West as Minneapolis. When the 
 possible income from this tour had been worked out, the 
 newspapers were given an idea of it. They made large 
 prophecies that if my popularity should go over "intact 
 from amateur to professional ranks,” I might turn out to 
 be as fast a money-maker as Red Grange, Bill Tilden, and 
 Suzanne Lenglen. Since I far exceeded those early esti- 
 mates, I hope all and sundry are now feeling proud of their 
 good prophecies. 
 
 Negotiations with screen officials became a maze it was 
 hard to think through. I had many offers, none of them 
 what I wanted. They were too limited, like the ones I had 
 had from French, German, and English companies abroad. 
 Short pieces, educational pieces on technique, or brief in- 
 terludes in feature pictures — none having the scope to start 
 skating on a new public life — were the possibilities. With 
 M-G-M I had even gone so far as to have screen tests 
 taken, but jumping at the wrong chance would have been 
 ruinous. We said "No.” 
 
 So I pinned my hope of Hollywood on the contacts that 
 
 70 
 
- 
 
 Welcome Home to Oslo 
 
 Above: At Geilo. In Foreground, 
 Left to Right: "Papa” Henie, Mrs. 
 Henie, A Cousin, Sonja, Leif 
 
 At Right: Time Out f 
 Fishing in Mountains 
 Norway 
 
Climax 
 
 might be made during the tour. Plenty of motion picture 
 people did come to the performances in Madison Square 
 Garden. All my numbers were in dance form, and nicely 
 costumed. I had a white satin dress, designed by Patou, 
 that I wore with a Juliet cap, for my fox-trot-tempo solo; 
 a gay peasant bodice dress for a Mazurka, and my classic 
 ballet dress with the wings for the Swan. Jack did a 
 rhumba, and it all went off quite brilliantly. But there was 
 not the response we had expected from the cinema forces. 
 
 Hope finally got a substantial toe-hold when we were in 
 Chicago, and then through our own enterprise rather than 
 anyone’s else foresight. We learned, in Chicago, that 
 Hollywood had an ice rink, the "Polar Ice Palace.” This 
 made a radical difference. Perhaps it is reasonable for the 
 average movie-struck girl who "wants to get into Holly- 
 wood” to go out there quite simply and hound the pro- 
 ducers’ offices until she lands a job as an extra, and then try 
 to work up from there. In my case, it would have been 
 senseless. I had something new to offer that could be made 
 tremendously valuable or of complete inconsequence. I was 
 certain that the method of knocking on doors and present- 
 ing myself with nothing but words and theories to show for 
 what I believed could be accomplished, would get nowhere. 
 We were all certain that it would be useless to go to Holly- 
 wood unless we either went on a likely sounding call from 
 the fortress or at least were sure there was some ice in 
 Hollywood to prove our theories on, to an audience. 
 
 The Polar Palace opened the door. Father got in touch 
 with Los Angeles, and discovered it would be possible for 
 us to rent the rink for a period of days. Immediately we 
 turned a remote notion into a plan. At the end of the tour, 
 we would go to Hollywood and I would give an exhibition 
 
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Climax 
 
 on my own that would show Hollywood, or show us it 
 couldn’t be done. Father wired, clinching our rental of 
 the Palace. 
 
 The tour was a great success in itself. We played to 
 packed houses everywhere, and from the warmth of the 
 audiences and the reviews we received came overwhelming 
 proof that the American public would be glad to have 
 more. On April 15, when the tour closed in Detroit, I 
 had exactly three weeks in which to go on to the coast and 
 prepare myself and all my arrangements for the crucial 
 exhibition. We had named May 7 and May 9 as the dates 
 of the two performances. 
 
 I had a dreadful moment the first day out there. I told 
 the taxi driver I wanted to go to the skating rink. 
 
 “Here y’are, lady,” he said, as we pulled up to the curb. 
 My eager eyes fell upon bright signs urging me to come 
 roller skating. Then with relief like food to the starving, 
 I found this was not the Polar Palace. My driver had never 
 heard of the Polar Palace, nor of skating on ice, but we 
 got there via a consultation with the telephone book. 
 
 Four people were on the ice when I took my first look 
 at it, and I learned from the manager that this was prac- 
 tically rush hour. Gradually I was becoming aware that 
 Hollywood was not ice-conscious. 
 
 Under the circumstances, we saw that it was going to 
 be a job to get an audience of any sort, let alone the in- 
 fluential type that was essential to the plan. We sent out 
 invitations and we advertised. The newspapers were help- 
 ful. Reporters with the big news services knew of my 
 work abroad and in the East. There were many stories, 
 all of them friendly. 
 
 I packed all the dance and sparkle I could into the pro- 
 
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Climax 
 
 gram. I had six pairs to open it with a tango, then an 
 Apache pair, then a bit of comedy, next Jack’s rhumba, 
 and then me. During the course of the evening I would 
 give all my three tour solos, ending with the Mazurka from 
 Coppelia. Having the rink to ourselves several days in 
 advance, we succeeded in teaching the workmen how to 
 put a perfect surface on the ice. We hired a good orchestra, 
 and good lighting staff. The rink was smaller than the 
 arena ice we had been accustomed to, so it took constant 
 rehearsing to whip our numbers into shape, all apart from 
 the other elements of the production. The three weeks 
 evaporated. Before they were quite gone, we had the 
 satisfaction of knowing that both performances were sell- 
 outs in advance. We had our audience all right. The re- 
 maining question was, would people of that sun-blessed, 
 iceless, skateless area have any idea what our performance 
 was about? 
 
 The night of May seventh they came, in quantity and 
 quality — Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, John Barry- 
 more, Spencer Tracy, Clark Gable, Myrna Loy, Robert 
 Taylor, and a glittering host of others. The scene outside 
 the entrance was evidently unusual. Jeannette Meehan, 
 Hollywood correspondent of the New York World-Tele- 
 gram, saw it, as I didn’t, and wrote a description I have 
 kept: 
 
 "People shoved — cars jammed — parking prices had been 
 put up another twenty-five cents. Limousines were parked 
 in the tumble weeds in a vacant lot across the street, and 
 stars got their hose ruined treking through to the side- 
 walk. The whole thing had the standing, staring, curb- 
 stone-sitting look of an old-fashioned Hollywood premiere. 
 
 "Inside there was bedlam. The bleachers were packed. 
 
 73 
 
Climax 
 
 There were chairs in the aisles, people standing behind the 
 orchestra, others seated in chairs on the floor boarding. A 
 squad of hefty cops kept people from crowding on the 
 rink itself. 
 
 "Everybody was there — society, Main Street, Holly- 
 wood’s great and near-great. Carole Lombard, Jeanette 
 MacDonald and Gene Raymond, Ginger Rogers, James 
 Stewart, Jean Arthur, Bette Davis, Gary and Mrs. Cooper, 
 Norma Shearer. . . . Every production boss in the 
 business. But the people weren’t there to see Hollywood. 
 
 "One could sense [as the program got under way] a cur- 
 rent of tense anticipation. Thousands of eyes kept glanc- 
 ing up to the grey curtain at the far side where the name 
 of the evening’s star performer was spelled in glittering 
 letters four feet high. Again the lights went out. Excited 
 voices hushed. Suddenly a single spotlight broke through 
 the smoky atmosphere and flattened out on the ice. Into 
 its gleam floated a small white figure — Sonja Henie.” 
 
 At this point, Miss Meehan gave a complimentary ac- 
 count of my three appearances, including a statement that 
 I "had the audience in the palm of my hand.” Then, to 
 quote a little more, since this night was the foundation of 
 everything that has come since: 
 
 "They wouldn’t let her go. 'Encore! Encore!’ People 
 jumped up and down. Stars forgot themselves in her per- 
 formance and yelled themselves hoarse. Producers eyed one 
 another and fervently prayed that the other fellow wasn’t 
 thinking in terms of a contract. Pandemonium continued. 
 When Miss Henie finally withdrew, the rafters complained 
 of the applause. 
 
 "The next morning, Hollywood had elbow bruises on 
 its ribs, and Sonja Henie was the talk of the town. Studios 
 
 74 
 
Climax 
 
 were cooing at her. Universal, Paramount, M-G-M wanted 
 her. It has been a long time since Hollywood’s producer 
 contingent has devised as many attractive contracts for 
 one person.” 
 
 What Miss Meehan didn’t know was that the one pro- 
 ducer we most wanted to reach wasn’t there the first night. 
 Darryl F. Zanuck’s reputation for recognizing the possi- 
 bilities in new things, ideas, and personalities and for initia- 
 tive and courage in putting them forward, had made us feel 
 he was our best hope. I had people keep watch to see if he 
 came that night, and they all made the same disappointing 
 report. The genius of Twentieth Century-Fox had not 
 come with the rest. 
 
 We couldn’t find him the second night, either. Apart 
 from that, the evening went very well, but his absence 
 almost overshadowed the success. Mary Pickford gave me 
 flowers. I greeted a long procession of stars who had come 
 back a second time. They all assured me that skating would 
 be Hollywood’s next craze. 
 
 In those three days Hollywood became ice-minded. Of- 
 fers fell into our lap like ripe fruit. Darryl Zanuck ap- 
 peared. He had escaped our vigil at the second perform- 
 ance. He had seen it after all. 
 
 I remember our momentous conversation very well. We 
 were sitting together, mother and I on a settee, Mr. Zanuck 
 across from us. He asked me, in just so many words, what 
 I wanted. I said, "The title role,” and he let go a good 
 cross between a snort and a laugh and said, "Miss Henie, 
 not that!” 
 
 The moves were rapid from there on. I told him, in that 
 case I wasn’t interested. That I had no desire to play sup- 
 porting roles in films that would be carried by my skating. 
 
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Climax 
 
 That I was looking beyond tomorrow. That my first film 
 would be decisive both for the company and for me. 
 
 He was listening with interest. Mother nudged me. She 
 saw a change of tone coming, and in a moment it came. 
 Mr. Zanuck proceeded more softly. He said the exhibition 
 had convinced him that skating was a thing of importance, 
 but that he didn’t believe that skating scenes should domi- 
 nate the picture. 
 
 "Someone else must have the lead. But don’t worry,” 
 he added kindly, "you’ll show them.” 
 
 So I went about making it clear that I wasn’t interested 
 in putting myself before the public. It was my skating I 
 wanted to have given place and scope, and I felt if I didn’t 
 have the leading role this couldn’t be done. 
 
 "I want to have a real chance at it,” I said, mustering all 
 the bravery I had. "I’ll sink or swim, and if you don’t want 
 to take the chance with me, I’ll go elsewhere.” 
 
 The contract was signed. We had carried the hill. There 
 followed talk about the first film, and about when I’d go 
 to work. The contract was a long one, for five years, but 
 that was usual. From the day I put my name on that hard- 
 earned line, I found in Mr. Zanuck one of the best of ad- 
 visers, a man with a fantastically sharp grasp of details 
 and a surpassing instinct for knowing what the public 
 wants. 
 
 My first film, One in a Million, was originally called The 
 Teach Edition. That poor name, which never saw the light 
 of neon, sums up about all I knew of my place in the film 
 industry when I walked through the Twentieth Century- 
 Fox studio gates to go to work. In the course of two 
 months, the name was changed, and so was I. 
 
 It was bewildering to be thrown into the midst of the 
 
 76 
 
Climax 
 
 whirl of studio activity. For many days I was overwhelmed 
 by the continuous bustle, every small part of which was 
 new to me, and important, so that I felt I must learn about 
 it as soon as possible. 
 
 If movie-struck girls could get a glimpse of what a 
 Hollywood star’s day is really like, there would be few who 
 would not sit down and quietly thank heaven they were in 
 peace behind a typewriter, a counter, or their boy-friend’s 
 Ford dashboard. The pictures of luxurious ease and 
 spangled night life painted by story writers and the cheaper 
 sort of publicity romanticizers are as fake as the old-time 
 movie heroine’s marcel waves in a thunderstorm. 
 
 Every day of my first working year in Hollywood, my 
 alarm clock woke me at five A.M. By eight I was at the 
 studio. The three hours had been spent in the elaborate 
 shampooing, hair-do-ing, making up, and finally dressing 
 for the scene to be played that morning, all of which are 
 necessary preparations for appearing before a camera. 
 There was a bit of time left over for a light breakfast. I 
 had my mother to help me, as well as my maid, and still the 
 time always seemed too short to get everything done with- 
 out rushing. Mother was out of bed as soon as I. In those 
 days I had my father, too. We thrashed out problems while 
 I drank my coffee and ate my slice of hard bread. 
 
 The moment I arrived at the studio I was caught in a 
 whirlpool of action that never let up until nightfall. Work 
 is in full swing on countless fronts by nine o’clock. An ac- 
 tress playing a scene is constantly moving. I don’t mean 
 only skating scenes, as in my case, but the others as well. 
 Sometimes it seems as though you are obliged to shift posi- 
 tion a thousand times in one scene, because you find that 
 somehow you’re not quite within vision of the camera. 
 
 77 
 
Climax 
 
 Meanwhile, all around you architects, costumers, techni- 
 cians, and a multitude of others are passing up and down, 
 in and out, going about their apparently unending work. 
 
 Morning and afternoon we concentrated on the same 
 scene. Skating scenes took especially long, in my early 
 films. Some of them had to be done over twenty-five or 
 thirty times. Cameramen were not used to the timing and 
 the focus needed, and I was not used to the necessary con- 
 finements of staying before the lens. Nowadays it is much 
 better. We have worked out the method, and I have 
 markers on the ice that tell me just how far I may go. 
 
 No one at the studio stops work until seven or eight 
 P. M. A ten-hour day is the custom. By the end of it, 
 nearly everyone is exhausted. Only one thing is pleasant 
 to think about — sleep. In this state of mind, people don’t 
 deck themselves out in white ties and ermine and go on 
 orgies. 
 
 I soon found out that there is an unwritten agreement 
 among Hollywood people that they all must go to bed 
 early. It’s necessary. The studios want people who are 
 awake. An actress like Greta Garbo, whom we seldom see, 
 works extremely hard and takes the rest she needs. That’s 
 why she is good. There is only one night in the week 
 when we do relax the routine. This is Saturday night. Sun- 
 day is a rest day, and most of us spend it sleeping. On Sat- 
 urday evening we do foregather at each others’ houses, 
 and these might be called small parties, but even that would 
 be stretching the facts of the average Saturday. 
 
 I don’t drink or smoke. I feel either one would hurt my 
 work. I’m a bit more complete about it than most actors 
 and actresses on the coast, but at that there is very little 
 hard drinking among the people who work in films. It 
 
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Climax 
 
 doesn’t mix with concentrated, clear-minded effort. If 
 you’re going to make the grade you can’t afford to waste 
 your energy. In Hollywood, if in no other place on earth, 
 you learn what work really means. 
 
 When you work in the movies you’ve got to take care 
 of yourself. This applies to everyone, and especially to me, 
 with my skating edge to keep. I had often thought of the 
 exertion of competition and exhibition skating as punish- 
 ing enough, but in my very first picture I learned it was 
 nothing compared to making a skating film. 
 
 Before I went to Hollywood I had never had massages. 
 Within a few weeks of starting work, I found something 
 beyond my usual training had to be done about my muscles. 
 They ached as they never had before. So, between skating 
 scenes, I adopted the habit of lying down on a bench and 
 letting a masseuse rub the kinks out of me. This helped 
 keep my muscles soft and pliant, apart from making me 
 feel more human. Another good method I found and put 
 to use back then at the beginning was steam baths. These 
 are not the type I remembered from home, nor the Finnish 
 style either. They are very American steam baths, in 
 which you sit in an electrically warmed box, with only 
 your head sticking out, and let the heat make you sweat. 
 You feel a little weak afterward, but your muscles have 
 had a thorough going-over, and a few hours’ nap brings 
 back your energy. 
 
 I found all this new life fascinating. I didn’t mind 
 getting tired, because I felt I was gaining in understanding 
 of the industry and my part in it every long day I spent, 
 and I felt my work improving. 
 
 There were all the ideas and methods of film technique 
 to be studied. The more you know about the whole set- 
 
 79 
 
Climax 
 
 up, the better you can do your own part. So I tried to learn 
 what the other workers’ aims and problems were. Going 
 at a thing inside out had always been a natural inclination 
 of mine, so I couldn’t help wanting to be thorough. I was 
 especially interested in the technical details of the building 
 of the big ice rink that Fox had made especially for me. 
 Incidentally, it is not frozen sour milk, as the journalists 
 had great fun saying when they wrote their early stories 
 about me. It is artificial ice painted over with a special 
 color that prevents the spotlights from making reflections 
 that would mar the photography. It is easier and safer to 
 do choreographic work on this than on natural ice. 
 
 In one department I could not make myself show a 
 proper submissiveness because of my film inexperience. 
 This was the matter of music for the skating dance num- 
 bers. It seemed to me that the music belonged more to the 
 skating than to the photography, and I knew about skating, 
 so I fought for every point of disagreement I felt with the 
 orchestra leader. When I look at that first picture now, I 
 feel there are little things here and there that are better 
 than they would have been if I had not spoken up, out of 
 turn or not. In the main, however, I didn’t presume to 
 open my mouth very often. I had a well-founded respect 
 for the wisdom of the film veterans, and I still have, though 
 now I know a few things myself. 
 
 One in a Million grew gradually from a scenario into 
 a collection of assorted skating scenes, love scenes, group 
 action scenes, and the rest, all being worked on successively 
 in batches that had the same setting. My first efforts at 
 acting were a pretty serious trial, but I had help from all 
 sides, especially from Jean Hersholt, who was in the film 
 with me and is Danish, a fact that made me turn toward 
 
 80 
 
Climax 
 
 him as a very welcome geographical relative. After a 
 while I made quite a number of friends, and the criticism 
 and exchange of opinions was very valuable. Sometimes 
 they admired in silence and criticized aloud, but that is 
 the way with rival actors, and I knew about rivalry, so 
 it didn’t bother me. 
 
 I grew to love our house in Bel Air, one of the suburbs 
 practically owned by the film colony. Our circle of ac- 
 quaintance widened despite the hard schedule of work. At 
 the studio, people of all sorts seemed surprised that I didn’t 
 put on airs because I had been a celebrity in another field 
 before my arrival in Hollywood, and when they accepted 
 the fact that I simply didn’t have it in me, we all became 
 friends. Word got around that I was "natural as pork and 
 beans” (which I prize as one of the nicest compliments 
 ever paid me), and from then on, I was "in.” 
 
 Within a very short time, as it felt, though not as it 
 counted in days on the calendar, "rushes” of the film were 
 ready to be scrutinized. I was pretty terrified. It costs 
 about a million dollars to launch a star. That’s a lot of 
 money in any language, even Hollywood’s. Big bosses don’t 
 spend it with a smile. That’s why not many stars are 
 launched directly, but most are raised by easy stages from 
 featured parts, as they prove their box-office draw. Zanuck 
 himself, while famous for introducing new personalities, 
 generally brings them out in films carried by an estab- 
 lished star. But in my case he had gambled with me. It 
 was a big gamble, and I knew my arguments had been 
 quite largely responsible for his taking it. He had said, 
 himself : 
 
 "I have signed Miss Henie and her skates. Even if she 
 couldn’t skate, I’d have signed her anyway, but not for so 
 
 81 
 
Climax 
 
 much money.” And I knew he wouldn’t have signed me 
 with my skates for so much money, nor undertaken such a 
 risky and expensive production with me and them to carry 
 it, if I hadn’t insisted upon it. 
 
 The rushes themselves were pronounced encouraging. It 
 seemed that the film was turning out about as well as any- 
 one had hoped it would. But there’s many a slip ’twixt the 
 studio and the public. 
 
 The whole summer and fall had been absorbed in the 
 preparations and the work itself. I had scarcely noticed 
 their passing. Just before Christmas I flew to New York. 
 Tyrone Power, en route to his mother’s in Cincinnati, took 
 off with us, and that produced rumors that we were en- 
 gaged, and little sessions of denial, but none of that mat- 
 tered. In the Twentieth Century-Fox projection room in 
 New York, I was to see a preview of the completed picture. 
 Then it would be up to the American public. There was 
 only one Christmas present I wanted that year. 
 
 82 
 
CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 // 
 
 c ver the Rainb 
 
 // 
 
 ow 
 
 "one in a million” was pronounced a box office 
 success during that Christmas time while I was in New 
 York, right there where I could go downtown and say "I 
 told you so” to the skyline that had seemed to challenge my 
 Hollywood ambitions. The skyline had the last word, 
 however, in a sense. 
 
 All too shortly after, I began to learn that surviving in 
 Hollywood is about as difficult as getting in. Success makes 
 you prey to a legion of schemers. If you don’t keep your 
 wits working night and day you’ll be taken in, and the 
 result may be ruin. It so happens that I have managed to 
 keep my head and my place, but I truly admit that on the 
 day I sailed up the harbor under the granite face of the sky- 
 scrapers I had no conception of how much would be in- 
 volved in reaching and holding my goal. In the four years 
 since, I have had to do an earnest job of growing up, 
 converting myself from a skating champion into a business 
 woman. 
 
 When I went to Hollywood, I waked out of a strangely 
 limelit childhood into the broad daylight of reality. The 
 
 83 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 new life was competition, as the old one had been, but it 
 was a professional fight for money, and it didn’t take very 
 long to realize that some people consider that all’s fair in 
 business as well as love and war. 
 
 The moment it got around that the gross receipts of 
 One in a Million were mounting toward $2,000,000, 
 what I was to be up against in this new field became clear. 
 A star who shows signs of being a moneywinner is a magnet 
 to every Dick and Harry who would like to have a dollar. 
 People by the hundreds seek to take over the management 
 of the star’s interests, contracts, moneys, plans, even her 
 daily life. They track you down and try by fantastic 
 means to gain your confidence and a job with you, any- 
 thing so long as it looks like an inroad to the bank account 
 they think you’re going to have. They make their assaults 
 not only by the front door, but by conniving and intrigue. 
 They lie to you and about you. The novice has to learn 
 to trust no one, and if you can learn without losing you’re 
 lucky. 
 
 My luck was my father. His shrewdness took me safely 
 through the writing of my contract, the making of my first 
 picture, and the first gleams of its financial aftermath. But 
 from there I had to go on without him, and from there 
 on the complexities grew more intense than they had been 
 at the beginning, because the suspicion that I might earn 
 some money became a fact. 
 
 "Papa Henie,” as our world on ice always called him, 
 had been through the skating wars with me, as my gen- 
 eral. It was his vision, guidance, and encouragement, his 
 understanding of people and the tricks of competition and 
 of business that had boosted me first up the cliffs of 
 amateur championship and then through the Hollywood 
 
 84 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 gates. If it had not been for Papa Henie, I doubt I should 
 have had any career at all. 
 
 In jumping from December, when One in a Million 
 opened, to May, when my father died, I have left out of 
 the picture my personal appearances that February before 
 I went back to Hollywood. They had many implications. 
 They were an index of the broadening scope of my profes- 
 sional life, and the increasing complexities to come. 
 
 I skated first in the intermissions between ice hockey 
 game periods in New York and Boston, then without 
 rivalry of hockey in skating exhibitions in several smaller 
 eastern cities. Always the houses were packed, the latter 
 group of course on the strength of my name. When I was 
 in New York, Arthur Wirtz came on from Chicago and 
 asked me to go out to his Chicago Stadium and star in a 
 professional ice show. Together, in that moment of sug- 
 gestion and of agreement on my part, we saw the outline 
 of the future of ice theatre. 
 
 The plan of that pioneer show, forerunner of all I’ve 
 done since, was new in that I was to be the prima ballerina, 
 so to speak, of a two-hour show, with a professional cast 
 supporting me. 
 
 As I have probably said several times and may again be- 
 cause the thing is so impressive, the Chicago Stadium seats 
 more thousands of people than any other indoor arena yet 
 built. Still, in that sequence of five performances I gave 
 there, there were not seats enough. Lines of prospective 
 ticket buyers formed down the streets outside, four abreast 
 and two blocks long. Each performance was a sell-out, and 
 more. 
 
 Every night when I went out on the ice I couldn’t see the 
 usual breaks in the blocks of faces. The aisles were filled 
 
 85 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 with standees. The crowds called for more encores than I 
 had stamina to give. A Hollywood star with a professional 
 cast behind her — all on ice — was very obviously something 
 the public had a taste for. 
 
 A whole new mass of audience had added itself to the 
 ice-minded one that had been faithful to me in the past. 
 This was a movie-going public as well as one that under- 
 stood the intricacies of skating. Skating had helped me into 
 the movies, and now the movies were booming my success 
 as a professional skater. Out of this development came 
 my undertaking with Arthur Wirtz, the following year, a 
 professional touring ice show of my own. The public 
 wanted dancing on ice and Hollywood on ice. They should 
 have them. 
 
 With my first picture making surprising money, my 
 personal performances adding to it, and my plans for a 
 professional troupe tour promising still more in the future, 
 I took stock of my situation in June 1937, when the first 
 shock of father’s death had subsided, and pledged myself to 
 do as good a job as possible in taking over his role as head 
 of the family. Of course I had then, as always, my mother’s 
 advice, and occasionally Leif’s, when he made trips over 
 from Norway, but the brunt of the responsibility, I felt, 
 had passed from father’s shoulders to mine. 
 
 In the summer of 1936 I had been a young girl wise 
 about the geographical panorama of the world’s big cities, 
 and in the petty connivings of amateur sports competition, 
 but still seeing life through the bizarre haze of the cham- 
 pionship whirl. One year later, by midsummer 1937, I 
 had cut through the haze and learned to make no decision 
 hastily, to judge no man by his front, and to remember 
 that the world never puts a price on you higher than the 
 one you put on yourself. 
 
 86 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 I was making my second picture, first called Lovely to 
 Look At, then Thin Ice, when the blow struck. Father 
 had been ill only a few days. A blood clot on the lung 
 proved fatal. Mother collapsed and was in a serious condi- 
 tion for weeks. I was still getting up at five in the morning 
 and working into the evening. Throughout the latter part 
 of the picture, I hung on by making plans for my vacation, 
 which was to be a trip to Norway with mother. When I 
 was most tired, the desire to reach the quiet of our country 
 place outside Oslo was hard to control. Sometimes it 
 seemed to me I couldn’t stand the pace and the intermin- 
 able bright sunlight and the relentless series of decisions to 
 be made one moment longer. I wanted to get back to the 
 cool of my "North country,” to my own people and my 
 own places. 
 
 A vivid example of the studio pace I speak of was, I re- 
 member, given me just at that period. An electrician on 
 the set slipped and broke his leg. Sidney Lanfield, the di- 
 rector, hurried over to him. Before he could say a word, 
 the electrician said, "Don’t bother about me. Go on shoot- 
 ing. I know you’re behind your schedule.” 
 
 When people around you act like that, you soon learn 
 that those moments when you think you can’t take it pass 
 like any other moments. I bided my time. 
 
 We sailed late in July from New York, on the Queen 
 Mary. From Cherbourg home everything seemed to get 
 sweeter and sweeter, possibly because I had expected it to. 
 But I had not expected what happened in my own Oslo- 
 fjord. A fleet of little boats came down to meet us, all 
 flying flags as though I were somebody very special, and 
 escorted us to the pier. Officials greeted me ceremoniously. 
 Behind them stood a crowd of hundreds of my fellow Nor- 
 wegians, peering at me and waving. I could feel in them 
 
 87 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 the question: "Has she changed? Has being an American 
 film star made her different?” I wished they could under- 
 stand how good it seemed to me to be home. 
 
 During that vacation I learned how familiar the Scan- 
 dinavian people are with American films. One in a Million 
 had already been shown in the major theatres. Cinema 
 magazines carried more news of American stars than of 
 European ones. My friends were well informed about all 
 my Hollywood acquaintances. One day we found a para- 
 graph quoting the Motion Victure Herald, an American 
 trade journal. The Herald had taken its annual poll of the 
 cinema stars’ standing with the American public just after 
 One in a Million had been released. I had been included on 
 the list, in eighth place. This was, perhaps, not very high 
 up, but it was gratifying to have gained any place at all on 
 the strength of my very first picture. 
 
 A month of peaceful summer in the hills vanished, and 
 I was obliged to return to the United States and my third 
 picture. Before I left, I started arrangements for the build- 
 ing of a permanent summer home, Landoya, on a wooded 
 island in the Fjord. My idea was to go back there at least 
 once every year, possibly some day for half of each year. 
 Owning such a place, I would always have a shelter for 
 rest and quiet, and a rooted contact with my original home 
 country. Landoya has since been completed. It is a simple, 
 classic white building, two stories high, and wide, with 
 easy steps rising to columns that flank the door. It is large 
 enough to house not only mother and me, but Leif, his 
 wife Gerd, and any friends we might want to invite. 
 There were reports in the papers when the Germans in- 
 vaded Norway that they had taken over Landoya. These 
 were not true. It is bad enough, however, that mother and 
 
 88 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 I don’t know, at this writing, when we shall he able to go 
 to the place we have been thinking of so long. 
 
 When I started these notes, I said I felt like a lottery 
 winner, a sort of chronic one, favored by luck over and 
 over since I was a small child. This has been no less so 
 lately than it was during my championship years. In the 
 four years since I turned professional, I have been dealt 
 plenty of the grits of reality — the only great loss of my 
 life, the battle of business, the crucial challenge of learning 
 a difficult trade in a fiercely competitive field, the strain of 
 war in my "old country,” where my roots are, and of 
 rumors of war in my new one, where I have grown up — 
 but the good things that have come my way have stepped 
 up in proportion. Perhaps it all boils down to the fact 
 that you can get more solid value from a pan of any sort 
 of nuggets than from a dish of whipped cream. 
 
 Thin Ice, starring Tyrone with me, was breaking records 
 at the Roxy in New York when I came back to the States 
 in the early fall of 1937. Before I moved on West, I had 
 the surprise of seeing myself in "full color” on the front 
 of New York’s Sunday tabloid, the Mirror. It was pretty 
 gaudy, but I consoled myself with my press agent’s as- 
 surances that it was a sign of getting somewhere. 
 
 He was very pleased, incidentally, when word came from 
 Norway that the Oslo Aftenposten had held a poll amongst 
 its readers on their ranking of Norwegian people, and the 
 vote placed me fifth after four great national figures, all 
 of them dead. My agent made a great deal of this. It was 
 the most embarrassing honor of my life. I have always 
 felt it should have been examined. I can’t quite see myself 
 in a group with Grieg, Amundsen, Nanssen, and Ibsen. 
 
 Twice more in the early cold months I had the good for- 
 
 89 
 
Over the Kainbou? 
 
 tune to be singled out. The occasions were strikingly dif- 
 ferent. In December, I was informed that the Navajo In- 
 dians wanted to make me an honorary member of the tribe. 
 I went to Albuquerque, New Mexico, for the ceremony. 
 Has Pas, wife of a medicine man, conducted the initiation. 
 I was christened "Ashonogo Sonnie Tin-Edil-Goie,” which 
 means "graceful young lady who skates on ice.” Has Pas 
 gave me a Navajo blanket, and I gave Has Pas a pair of 
 autographed skates. My press agent liked this very much. 
 
 The other occasion was the climax of all my good for- 
 tune. It, too, involved a ceremony, this one in the Nor- 
 wegian Legation in Washington, D. C. King Haakon, 
 through his minister to the United States, Wilhelm Mor- 
 genstierne, made me a member of the Order of St. Olav. 
 
 I had word of this while I was still on the Coast, finish- 
 ing Happy Landing, but it was not until the end of my 
 first professional troupe tour, in January, that the actual 
 ceremony took place. The Knighthood of St. Olav was 
 established in 1847 by King Oscar I. 
 
 Standing on the only piece of Norwegian soil in the 
 United States, with the portrait of the King who had be- 
 friended me all my life looking down from the high wall 
 above, I was given the decoration, a cross, that made me 
 a "Knight of the First Class” of the order. Morgenstierne, 
 speaking in soft Norwegian, said I was the youngest person 
 who had ever received the decoration. It is usually con- 
 ferred toward the end of a person’s life, when his career 
 can be evaluated. He said that it was given me "in recog- 
 nition of your unique contribution as a sportswoman, an 
 artist, an interpreter of the ideals of Norway’s youth, and 
 one who has upheld the honor of the flag of Norway.” I 
 felt closer to my native country in that moment than 
 
 90 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 in any other of my entire life. I look back on it with grate- 
 fulness and emotion. 
 
 Another of the bright nuggets of the last four years was 
 the tour I have mentioned, run off between the completion 
 of Happy Landing, and my visit to Washington. The show 
 was called "Miss Sonja Henie With Her Hollywood Ice 
 Revue.” It offered the people what they had shown in 
 Chicago they wanted — dancing on ice, skating entertain- 
 ment, and a Hollywood star. We got together a group of 
 more than sixty skaters. Such a number was hard to find, 
 two and a half years ago in Hollywood. Remembering my 
 own past, I insisted, when we had exhausted the ranks of 
 trained skaters, that we should look for people with dance 
 training above all else. We built these dancers into skaters, 
 to become the ensemble. 
 
 There was a good deal of adventure attached to the en- 
 terprise. It had to be done quickly and well if it were to 
 succeed. To assure speed and finesse, large sums of money 
 had to be advanced on chance, as it were. In order to open 
 Christmas night in Chicago, for instance, we chartered 
 four giant 2 1 -passenger planes to fly the troupe East from 
 the Coast. 
 
 Things I had wanted to see done all my life came into be- 
 ing on that tour. With Harry Losee doing the chore- 
 ography, the show became dancing on ice, the fusion of 
 skating and ballet I had fervently imagined since my days 
 of regarding Pavlowa as a goddess. It was also theatre, 
 involving spectacle of lights, costumes, music, and big pat- 
 terned movements. Anyone who has read these notes 
 knows how early this interest had started running in my 
 veins. We delivered a really diversified program, with the 
 numbers ranging from Liszt to the Susi-Q. 
 
 91 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 In addition to these things, it was a financial success. 
 Since the opening night of that first Hollywood Ice Revue, 
 we have never had a vacant seat in a house. We played 
 Madison Square Garden in New York as a climactic post- 
 script, after I had been to Washington. They turned 
 people away by the hundreds — sold out long in advance. 
 
 For me personally there were other plums. Heywood 
 Broun said in a newspaper story I have kept: "I think it is 
 safe to say that right now Sonja Henie is the greatest 
 single box-office draw in America.” He said that I had 
 "theatrical sense,” that I knew how to "put my stuff over.” 
 Willy Boeckl, the skating expert, said that I was "in better 
 form than ever,” and that my "great reception has made 
 thousands of new followers of figure skating.” 
 
 In line with this point of helping to spread public inter- 
 est in skating, another old wish of mine, it belongs in the 
 record that a "Sonja Henie Junior Olympics Club” was 
 organized during the early days of the tour, and in a very 
 few weeks had taken in forty thousand members. The 
 members were, and are, all children, all of whom I hope 
 will remain faithful to skating and grow to love it very 
 much, as I have. What advice I have been able to give 
 them has been very little compared to what I wish I might 
 give, and I hope no one doubts the sincerity of my interest 
 in this boost for the sport I have built my life on. 
 
 Vivid bits in the kaleidoscope of time since the banners 
 were raised over that tour stand out with sharp edges but 
 not much order. Happy Landing, My Lucky Star, Second 
 Fiddle, and Everything Happens at Night followed in the 
 blithe box-office steps of my first two pictures. Each time 
 I held my breath, and each time it was sweet to let it out 
 instead of having it jolted out of me. Throughout my 
 
 92 
 
Sonja Henie’s Home at Oslo Fjord, Norway 
 
 Wilhelm Morgenstierne "Knights” Sonja Henie at the Norwegian 
 
 Ministry in Washington Pictures Inc. 
 
Son .j a I li nii with I Iushand Dan Topping 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 work on the latter half of the films, I have had an easier 
 schedule at the studio. It finally became quite human, not 
 starting mornings until nine o’clock. The tour became a 
 yearly affair, and has made more money each time, finally 
 grossing nearly half a million. We have enlarged and en- 
 hanced the cast, and stepped up the production to a high 
 I had not dreamed of in my early years. As I said way back 
 in these pages, the presentation of Les Sylphides in the 1940 
 Revue made me feel that at last ballet is on the ice. Now, 
 during the period of this writing, I have embarked on the 
 road of being a producer of a permanent ice ballet. Arthur 
 Wirtz and I are presenting, this season, an ice revue at the 
 Center Theatre in New York’s Radio City. 
 
 Among the darker bits in the picture are various suits 
 misguided souls have brought against me, for plagiarism, 
 for break of contract, and for a fancy lot of other 
 trumped-up excuses for reaching toward my bank ac- 
 count. I have the nice satisfaction of knowing that none 
 of those ventures has been rewarded with anything more 
 comfortable than justice. 
 
 In early 1938 life was brightened by rumors that I was 
 going to fly the Atlantic with Dick Merrill. As a matter 
 of fact, he had half -jokingly suggested the idea to me 
 once, and I had admitted it would be quite a thrill. But no 
 one but the the rumor breeders ever considered it seriously. 
 
 Last year I was given the very pleasant job, quite off my 
 usual beat, of helping to organize committees of Americans 
 of Norwegian birth or ancestry who were to arrange vari- 
 ous receptions for Crown Prince Olav and Crown Princess 
 Martha, during their royal tour of this country. It was 
 fun, being an expatriot among expatriots, and nice to be 
 bound in closer to Norway again. 
 
 93 
 
Over the Rainbow 
 
 In the months that have followed, all of us erstwhile 
 Norwegians have been so haunted by fear that we may 
 wake to find there is no Norway, that we are clinging more 
 and more intensely to our contacts and memories. Ties 
 with each other give us an illusion of mass strength, as 
 though by dint of being a group we could say: "Our old 
 country must not lose her identity,” and our voice would 
 be heard. 
 
 This year Leif and Gerd have been with mother and me 
 a great deal of the time, and we feel we have a family 
 again. Cut off from Norway, established here, with so 
 many old wishes coming true in my personal life and re- 
 cently a new one, the most absorbing of all, suddenly ful- 
 filled, I feel that another cycle is closing for me. The 
 finale number of the 1940 Revue was set to a lilting modern 
 tune, Over the Rainbow, and it now seems very suitable. 
 
 Last July, that dogged old rumor that I was going to be 
 married to someone finally caught up with me. It had 
 started trailing Dan Topping and me during the winter 
 in New York. Dan followed me to Hollywood, to Hawaii 
 and back, and the rumor came along, growing closer all the 
 time. In June we turned around together and looked at it. 
 It did not seem so bad that way, so we took it into the 
 family and changed its name to fact. We were married in 
 Chicago, in the Lake Shore apartment of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wirtz. Neither Dan nor I wanted pomp and folderol. We 
 made the arrangements in New York, flew separately to 
 Chicago, had a nice, brief little ceremony with my family 
 and just a few others there, and then flew back together. 
 
 They say I wept during the pastor’s pronouncements. I 
 probably did. I had spent all my life being so arrogantly 
 absorbed in skating, thinking I was completely happy. 
 
 94 
 
Over the Kainbow 
 
 When I promised to "be a helpmate” to Dan, I knew how 
 wrong I had been. 
 
 While I can still remember such past notions, both false 
 and true, I have wanted to set down an imprint of Sonja 
 Henie, skater. 
 
 95 
 

 
 
PART II 
 
 /Vow It s your Turn 
 Skating for Tun and Competition 
 
Sport to Suit the Sportsman 
 
 IN THE PRECEDING CHAPTERS I HAVE TRIED TO DESCRIBE 
 what my life has been to date through the influence of my 
 skating. Now I am going to endeavor to impart a tech- 
 nical knowledge to you, my reader, so that you in turn 
 may have fun out of your very own pair of skates. 
 
 It has been my one ambition since reaching this country 
 to try to imbue into countless thousands of potential skat- 
 ers the desire to realize by actual participation what fun, 
 as well as healthful benefit, can be had from this sport. It 
 is for this reason that I organized the "Sonja Henie Junior 
 Olympics Club,” an organization of some forty thousand 
 young Americans, with the desire to promote skating 
 among the youth of the nation. It is, I suppose, the real 
 reason why I have jotted down my story, in the hope that 
 many who read it will become interested enough to take 
 up skating. 
 
 Skating is fun. More so than I can express in words on 
 paper, but I feel confident that once you start you will 
 agree that, as the golf saying goes, "the bug has got you” 
 
 99 
 
Sport to Suit the Sportsman 
 
 and for keeps. Skating is a sport that has an ever-widening 
 field to a devotee, since one may become champion of the 
 world and still have something more to learn; it is, there- 
 fore, by the same token, a recreation that has little chance 
 of palling. 
 
 In America today there are hundreds of organized clubs. 
 The reader will find that in his or her community there al- 
 ready is a tremendous mounting enthusiasm for figure 
 skating. An active enthusiasm felt by people, who, like 
 yourself, perhaps, have until recently feared that skating 
 was too hard to undertake and therefore have only looked 
 on from the sidelines. 
 
 Standard figure skating tests and competitions are be- 
 coming more usual every day. As you make progress with 
 your skating, you will eventually arrive at a point where, if 
 time permits, you will feel that you have mastered enough 
 skating technique to enable you to match your skill in 
 competition against others. These tests and competitions 
 are great fun, for they are the testing ground on which 
 your knowledge will be tried against definite standards. 
 Here the crossroads of recreation, competition, and art 
 meet. Yes, I use the word "art” unreservedly. There is no 
 other sport today in which one’s artistic feeling for music 
 and movement to music can be so readily expressed. Skat- 
 ing and dancing are closely fused. A skater with even a 
 slight degree of proficiency is a dancer on ice. You your- 
 self, though at the time of reading you may be able to do 
 little except "straight skating,” find that you uncon- 
 sciously stroke out in time if there happens to be music 
 playing as you skate. If you enjoy dancing, and it has been 
 my contention that there is no nation in the world today 
 so fond of dancing as America, dancing on ice will give 
 
 100 
 
Sport to Suit the Sportsman 
 
 you tenfold more pleasure than dancing on the floor. There 
 is a quality of literally flying through space which makes 
 ballroom dancing seem almost pale and drab by compari- 
 son. It is this complete release from feeling earthbound 
 that makes skating the fun it is. If you have never skated, 
 do not be discouraged by your first attempts. Remember 
 the really true saying: "if you can walk, you can skate.” 
 
 101 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 Find Jt 
 
 IN MOST SPORTS THERE IS A GOAL TO REACH, A SCORE TO 
 make, or an opponent to defeat, but in skating there are 
 no such rigid objectives. You can stop as soon as you tire 
 without feeling that the game has not been completed. 
 This is the chief reason why skating is so adaptable to 
 people of all ages, from the boisterous youngster to the 
 tired businessman in need of exercise. The strenuousness 
 of figure skating depends entirely upon the skater. Count- 
 less people today, well past fifty years of age, skate actively 
 for the pleasure they derive and for the healthful benefit 
 they gain. 
 
 Skating is an adaptable sport in many other respects, 
 and uniquely so in winter time. It was made to order for 
 the average business person. There is no waiting for a 
 court or a partner as in badminton, squash, or indoor ten- 
 nis, nor is there any long trek to be made as to ski fields. 
 An ice rink provides a near and simple means of taking all 
 
 102 
 
Take Your Ice Where You Find It 
 
 the exercise needed to make you feel mentally and phys- 
 ically alert. Actually, the greatest activity in many ice 
 rinks is divided between children and persons in business 
 or professions. In most cities the average club or rink has 
 after-business-hour sessions. If you are on the lookout for 
 a sport that combines pleasure with health, you need look 
 no further than to a sheet of ice and a pair of skates. 
 
 Skating is not confined to cities and towns that have 
 large arenas, except in localities where there is no natural 
 ice to be found. If there is a pond, lake, or river that freezes 
 over in your community, the world of skating is yours for 
 the taking. Having learned my own skating on outdoor 
 rinks, I naturally have a great predilection towards them. 
 Nothing, not even a cold shower, makes your whole body 
 tingle as it does after a session of outdoor skating. 
 
 I might add here that many cities today have municipal 
 outdoor rinks, free to the general public. Few American 
 cities, however, have adopted the European system of 
 municipal rink management. In Oslo, for instance, we 
 have tiemendous public rinks run by the city. There is no 
 charge for admission until five o’clock in the afternoon, 
 after which there is a very small fee of about five cents per 
 person. This type of rink is ideal for fostering skating. A 
 speed track rims the rink and is reserved for the exclusive 
 use of speed skaters. The center of the ice is for figure skat- 
 ers and beginners. This arrangement provides for all 
 classes of skaters from the beginner to the advanced, in 
 straight skating, speed skating, and figure skating. I feel 
 that if rinks run on this system were more generally 
 adopted in this country, not only straight skating but fig- 
 ure skating would benefit enormously. 
 
 If the only available place for you to skate is an indoor 
 
 103 
 
Take Your Ice 'Where You Find It 
 
 rink, you will happily find this inexpensive. Most rinks 
 charge less than fifty cents a session, and if you belong to a 
 figure skating club it costs still less than that. As in any 
 other sport, the cost of joining a club varies greatly. You 
 can pay anywhere from five to one hundred and twenty- 
 five dollars per season, but the average club asks about 
 twenty dollars a year. This is less expensive than most golf 
 or tennis clubs. 
 
 If your pocketbook permits it, there are many ad- 
 vantages in belonging to an organized club. In the first 
 place, you will get far more time, adjustable to your sched- 
 ule, than in either a public rink or park, since club ice is at 
 your disposal, and well-lighted, in the evenings. Also, you 
 will be surrounded by people who are figure skating, and 
 this will be an added incentive to your progress. Again, 
 in every club of any standing there is an instructor who 
 can help you, from your very first step to your most ad- 
 vanced school figure. The price of instruction depends on 
 the caliber of the instructor. 
 
 In many public rinks instruction in plain skating may 
 be had for as little as fifty cents a lesson. For instruction 
 in figure skating, the cost will run from a dollar to three 
 dollars and a half a lesson. Even if you have to confine 
 yourself to public rink instruction, as you progress in your 
 skating it will be well for you to take a few lessons from 
 a qualified teacher in order to check up on any possible 
 faults you may have unconsciously acquired as a beginner. 
 Once you learn to figure skate, you will want to begin 
 dancing, and the facilities for this are manifold in any club. 
 Organized dance sessions with the music played at the cor- 
 rect tempo are held at all clubs, and there are always many 
 partners to choose from. 
 
 104 
 
Take Your Ice Where You Find It 
 
 You can’t try any of the recognized tests or enter any 
 of the national competitions unless you are a member of 
 a recognized club, so if you are going to go full out in your 
 figure skating it is well to take all these facts into con- 
 sideration. 
 
 Once you have the desire to skate, your first thought will 
 undoubtedly run to the type of equipment to buy. The 
 cost of skates and boots varies tremendously. My advice is 
 to shun the cheaper brands and spend a little more money 
 from the first in buying your outfit. If you are to go on 
 skating, you will save money in the long run by buying 
 wisely in the beginning. Many people say that they can’t 
 skate because they have weak ankles. Ninety-nine out of 
 a hundred people who make this statement are wrong. 
 The trouble lies, not in the ankles, but in the skating boots. 
 
 The strongest skater in the world is virtually unable to 
 move in a pair of ill-fitting boots. You must have com- 
 plete support for your ankles, and you can get this only if 
 the boots fit correctly. They must not be too narrow across 
 the toe, otherwise you’ll complain of a cramped feeling in 
 your feet. You must have a proper counter in the boot 
 to support your arches and save you from getting tired. 
 You can buy figure skating boots for about ten dollars a 
 pair, but my suggestion is to spend around fifteen and not 
 have anything to reproach yourself for later on. You can 
 get good figure skates, the blades, that is, from five dollars 
 up. The average figure skater spends about thirty dollars 
 for his outfit, but the advantages received from this outlay 
 are well repaid in time. 
 
 When you go in to buy your boots and skates, be definite 
 in your mind as to the exact type of merchandise you want. 
 Don’t let a salesman sell you a pair of boots that may just 
 
 105 
 
Take Your Ice Where You Find It 
 
 look fine from the outside. Remember, your skating depends 
 on the support given to your feet and ankles from your 
 equipment. Make certain that the fit is close around the 
 ankle and that the leather of the boot does not wrinkle in 
 the heel. When fitting your skating boots, wear light 
 socks. This applies to children as well as to adults. The 
 greatest mistake a parent can make is to buy his child boots 
 that he can "grow into.” Your feet are uncomfortable in 
 boots that are too large for you, and also get colder faster 
 than in ones properly fitted. For a woman I recommend 
 wearing light "bobbie” socks, and for a man really light 
 wool socks at all times when skating. Take my word for it 
 and be definite. When you buy your skating boots, make 
 sure they fit perfectly. 
 
 It is best to buy the skates after buying the boots. The 
 heel stanchion of the skate should fit to a quarter inch from 
 the back of your own heel, while the forward stanchion 
 should come to the very front of the boot. Flave, if pos- 
 sible, a professional attach your skates to your boots, be- 
 cause then you may be certain that your weight will be 
 correctly distributed over your skate and your balance in 
 no way impaired. 
 
 Your skates and boots now ready, correct skating clothes 
 are the next in importance, clothes which will give you the 
 most comfort on the ice and at the same time be smart and 
 up-to-date. The problem for a man is relatively simple. 
 The neatest outfit consists of a sweater and plus fours such 
 as you wear in golf. Many men today simply wear sweaters 
 and slacks, but you won’t get the same ease of motion if 
 your legs are hampered by long trousers as you will wearing 
 knickers. 
 
 A girl has much more leeway in her choice of skating 
 
 106 
 
Take Your Ice 'Where You Find It 
 
 costume than a man. True, your costume must be com- 
 paratively tailored and simple, but this still leaves you 
 great scope in your individual color scheme and design of 
 dress. Your skating dress must have a short, full, circular 
 or gored skirt, cut so that it falls several inches above the 
 knee cap. The bodice to your skating dress should be as 
 close fitting as possible, at the same time allowing ample 
 room across the shoulders for free arm movements. Sweat- 
 ers and skirts are wonderful for practice, as are shorts, but 
 for dancing or exhibition skating, shorts should never be 
 worn, for they detract from the flowing motion of the 
 body and give you an angular, gauche appearance when 
 you are skating fast. Abstain from wearing fancy trim- 
 ming and gewgaws on your costume. The more simple and 
 unrestricted the line, the more attractive a figure you will 
 cut on the ice. 
 
 I strongly recommend the use of silk and wool tights to 
 all women skaters whether working on indoor or outdoor 
 rinks. These, or all wool, can be had in popular stocking 
 shades and are worn by every leading skater today. Not 
 only are they more serviceable than silk stockings, but they 
 keep the legs warm at all times. This last point is essential 
 to good skating, for it is almost a physical impossibility to 
 skate with cold legs. Apart from your skating, if you don’t 
 look after your leg muscles properly now, you may pay for 
 it in after years through the penalty of rheumatism or 
 sciatica. Wearing tights dispenses with garters and the un- 
 sightly gap between hose and bloomers. These tights sell 
 for less than three dollars a pair and certainly should be a 
 standard part of your skating outfit. 
 
 Most large department stores carry a complete line of 
 skating clothes for both men and women, but beware that 
 
 107 
 
Take Your Ice Where You Find It 
 
 the shop clerk does not try to foist the wrong length skat- 
 ing outfit on you. Knitted skating dresses are most service- 
 able, and the pattern to make these at home can be pur- 
 chased in most department stores. Once you have selected 
 your skating costume you will undoubtedly be delighted 
 with the result. There is no sport today for which more 
 becoming clothes are designed than for skating. 
 
 You are now equipped to commence skating and head 
 for any goal you choose to set for yourself. If you are 
 interested in skating merely as a recreation, well and good, 
 but if you have championship aspirations, let me tell you a 
 few things to remember. 
 
 There is probably no sport today in which more concen- 
 trated, conscientious effort is required. Your school figure 
 practice alone will take up hours of your time each day if 
 you want to enter the championship class. As I am going 
 to explain later on, school figures are vastly important in 
 competition, and they really require time and more time 
 to perfect. For competition skating, you must go into 
 strict training; otherwise you’ll never last through the re- 
 quired free skating time of three or four minutes. This 
 means giving up many things you may consider important 
 to your present way of living. You must build up your 
 stamina so that, when the time comes, your mind, as well 
 as body, can meet the test, with complete coordination of 
 mind and muscle. There is also the question of expense. 
 While you can learn most of the important points of figure 
 skating from ensuing chapters here, you will require the 
 aid of a first-class professional instructor to guide you 
 through the maze of precompetition and competition haz- 
 ards which lie in your path. You can’t possibly reach your 
 goal in a few weeks or months. In all probability it will 
 
 108 
 
Take Your Ice Where You Find It 
 
 take a couple of seasons at the very least to forge your 
 way into the top-flight skating ranks of the country, and 
 you can start this rise only, mind you, after you have be- 
 come a good skater. 
 
 The path to competition skating is hard. Though the 
 final results are well worth all the effort, you must make 
 up your mind in advance that “work and more work” is 
 the slogan to adopt in trying to reach the top in skating. 
 
 109 
 
CHATTER EIGHT 
 
 Pastime Patterns 
 
 Index of Skating Terms to Be Used in Instruction 
 
 BEFORE GOING ON TO READ MY INSTRUCTIONS ON SKATING, 
 I want each and every one of my readers to familiarize 
 himself with the following terms which I have listed below. 
 These terms are as necessary to the skater as everyday 
 speech is, and without knowledge of them you will be 
 completely lost. 
 
 Edge, Inner or Inside. The part of the skate resting on 
 the ice when the ankle is turned in; that is, the side of 
 the blade nearest the body. 
 
 Edge, Outer or Outside. The part of the skate resting 
 on the ice when the ankle is turned out; that is, the side 
 of the blade away from the body. > 
 
 The Flat. When the ankle is upright and you arc on 
 both "edges” of the skate. (Your skate will leave a double 
 track on the ice.) 
 
 Employed or Skating Foot. The foot on which you are 
 skating. Likewise the ankle, knee, hip, leg, arm, shoulder, 
 hand, and so forth, which correspond to the skating foot. 
 
 110 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 Unemployed or Free Foot. The balance foot which is 
 not on the ice. Likewise the ankle, knee, hip, leg, arm, 
 hand, shoulder, and so forth, which correspond to the free 
 foot. 
 
 Tracing or Print. The marking your skate makes on the 
 ice which in school figures in test or competition must be 
 retraced three times. 
 
 Lobe or Circle. A circular tracing formed on the ice by 
 your skate. 
 
 The Start, Rest, or Center. The point on the ice from 
 which each school figure is begun. 
 
 Forward. The term used in relation to the front part 
 of the body. 
 
 Backward. The term used in relation to the back part 
 of the body. 
 
 Now that you have your skates and boots, let us go 
 down to the nearest ice rink and start out. The first thing 
 to learn is how to lace up your skating boots so that you 
 will get the maximum amount of help from them with the 
 minimum amount of discomfort. If your boots are not 
 properly done up, you will find after a short time that your 
 feet will "go” and you will have to stop. Many people 
 come off the ice after their first attempt complaining that 
 they have cramped feet and leg muscles and that skating 
 is not for them. If your boots are properly laced, this 
 problem will never bother you. 
 
 The lacing should be left comparatively loose from the 
 toe almost to the instep bone. Across the instep pull the 
 lacing very tightly through four or five eyelets to insure the 
 boot’s fitting snugly around the ankle, and then firmly 
 knot it. From here to the top of the boot the lacing is 
 again left fairly loose. This allows room for the toes to 
 
 111 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 move around and prevents the muscles and tendons in the 
 back of the legs from becoming cramped. 
 
 Now step carefully onto the ice. If you have a friend 
 who can skate, it is well to have him lend an arm for the 
 first try. If no one is there to help you, take hold of the 
 rink railing. Place your weight on the left foot, at the 
 same time turning the left toe at an angle of forty- 
 five degrees from the right. Push away from the left foot 
 onto the right, allowing the weight to shift simultaneously. 
 As the right foot glides along the ice, let the left foot trail 
 slightly in the rear. Bring the left foot parallel to the 
 right and straighten the right knee preparatory to pushing 
 back onto the left foot. 
 
 Repeat this move from left to right and so on, each 
 time letting the trailing skate come up almost parallel with 
 the skating foot before stroking off. Your body is bent 
 slightly forward, and your weight is on the middle part 
 of the blade. Hold your head up and try not to look down 
 at your feet. 
 
 Of vast importance from the very beginning is the cor- 
 rect use of your knees. When you are on an edge, your 
 skating knee must be well bent. If you don’t remember to 
 keep it so, you will have a terrible time maintaining your 
 balance and will never learn to ice skate properly. There 
 is an up and down movement in skating, caused by the 
 bending and straightening of the knees, and it is this 
 movement which enables you to attain glide and speed 
 without any visible effort on your part. 
 
 Once you get the feel of the ice, in your plain skating, 
 you can go on and learn to "cut corners.” This is done by 
 crossing the right skate in front of and across the left and 
 shifting the balance from your left outside edge to your 
 
 112 
 
. "Pastime Patterns 
 
 right inside edge, thus making it possible for you to go 
 around corners while still keeping up your skating stroke. 
 To stop yourself, place the weight on the flat of both skates 
 and then turn both skates to either right or left, at the 
 same time turning your shoulders and body in the corre- 
 sponding direction. As I said earlier in my book, all skaters 
 fall. Do not be afraid, but remember that there is a right 
 and wrong way to take a tumble on ice. If you find your- 
 self falling, relax as completely as possible. If you tense 
 your muscles, you will hit the ice like a log, and this is the 
 kind of fall that really hurts. 
 
 Once you have familiarized yourself with simple skat- 
 ing, it is time for you to go on to figure skating. In this 
 department you will have the most pleasure of all. 
 
 Before I go on to explain the technique, let me tell you 
 just what you have in store. Figure skating is made up of 
 two parts, school figures and free skating. School figures, 
 in competition, count two thirds of the marks; so, if you 
 plan to become a competitor, pay close attention to them. 
 They are composed of patterns formed on the ice, starting 
 from rest. Each pattern is retraced three times. The pat- 
 terns are in the form of a two-lobe "eight” or a three-lobe 
 "eight” and incorporate the use of "three turns,” "bracket 
 turns,” and variants of these. These school figures are sel- 
 dom seen by the general public, and even straight skaters, 
 who class all figure skating as dances, spins, and jumps, do 
 not know of their existence. They take perseverance to 
 accomplish really well, yet without a sound training in this 
 department you can never hope to achieve perfection in 
 your exhibition style of figure skating. 
 
 Although free skating in competition counts but one 
 third, still this is the only part of figure skating with which 
 
 113 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 most people are familiar. Free skating means, literally, 
 dancing on ice. It is what most people see when they go to 
 ice shows or exhibitions. It is for this reason that I have 
 always tried to include a few school figures in my pictures, 
 so that the general public will get some idea of their mean- 
 ing. School figures are the basis from which free skating 
 is evolved. Without a sound grounding in them you can 
 never attain the proper control of your edges, and there- 
 fore no control in the jumps and dances of which free 
 skating is composed. 
 
 There are forty-one school figures in all, most of which 
 must be started first on the right and then on the left foot. 
 I want to stress this next point: If you learn to do the 
 primary edges correctly, you’ll find that the advanced fig- 
 ures icill come more easily. 
 
 SCHOOL FIGURES 
 Forward Outside Edge 
 
 The first school figure to learn is the "figure eight, or 
 forward outside edge.” This is so called because the de- 
 sign, traced by you on the ice, will resemble the figure 
 eight. All school figures are started from a stationary posi- 
 tion known as the "rest” or "center.” It is not permissible 
 to take a stroke or two to gather momentum or to push 
 from the toe of the skate; push only from the edge. It 
 will take a little practice in this start to achieve the speed 
 needed to propel you around the circle. In your mind’s 
 eye try to visualize an eight pattern having the starting 
 point as the center where the two lobes of the eight meet. 
 You will do the first lobe on your right foot, going clock- 
 wise forward and around to the right. 
 
 114 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 Stand at rest with the feet at right angles. Your right 
 foot will be headed in the direction of the first lobe. With 
 your right shoulder and arm leading and your left shoulder 
 fairly well back, bend your left knee and drop your ankle 
 so that your left skate is pushing against its inside edge. 
 Raise the right skate and then lower it past the instep of 
 your left foot, at the same time pushing onto your right 
 foot. Your entire weight has now shifted from left to 
 right, and your balance is just back of the center of the 
 right blade. As your balance is placed on the right skate, 
 the right, or employed, knee must be well bent. Your 
 position is now on the right forward outside edge, and you 
 describe a circle which will bring you back to your center. 
 The right shoulder is forward and the left shoulder pressed 
 well back. Your body is in line with your skating foot, 
 with the left leg raised behind you. Arch your back and 
 lean the body to the right into the center of the circle it- 
 self. Turn your left hip out so that your unemployed knee 
 is almost on a parallel plane with the print and the free 
 foot and toe are well turned out. (I have been fortunate 
 in that my ballet training and limbering exercises have 
 greatly aided me in attaining always a well-turned-out 
 position in my skating.) 
 
 Your right shoulder is held slightly lower than the left, 
 with the head looking over the right shoulder at the line 
 to be travelled. Your arms are held waist high, with the 
 hands in a natural position, palms down to the ice and 
 fingers evenly extended. This position is held until half 
 way around the edge, when the right knee starts to 
 straighten. As this happens, allow the left leg to pass to 
 the front of your body, at the same time letting the 
 shoulders rotate so that now the left shoulder is leading, 
 
 115 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 with the right well behind. As you ride back toward the 
 center, your skating knee bends once again and your bal- 
 ance is now on the back part of the blade. This gives you 
 added momentum to ride back and close your circle. 
 
 You are here ready for the left outside edge. Only the 
 initial edge is started from rest; the speed with which you 
 finish on your right foot enables you to stroke off onto the 
 left foot. As you reach the center, bend the right knee, 
 then turn it out at a 45 degree angle from the print and 
 push firmly onto a left outer edge. With the bend of the 
 right knee the left foot is brought close to the instep of 
 the right, so that your left edge starts from the center and 
 you have one complete circle. Your position now will be 
 the same as when you started on the right foot. My in- 
 struction for the right edge holds true for the left, with 
 the positions right and left reversed. 
 
 Forward Inside Edge 
 
 The pattern for this figure is similar to the forward out- 
 side eight, except that, as the name implies, the execution 
 is on the inner edge. Your foot position at rest is the same 
 as in the outer forward edge, but the arm position is re- 
 versed and your direction will be counterclockwise. With 
 feet at right angles and both knees well bent, push firmly 
 from the left inner edge onto the right inner edge. As 
 your balance shifts from left to right, you find the left 
 shoulder and arm leading, with the right shoulder pressed 
 well back and held slightly higher than the left or un- 
 employed shoulder. The left leg is raised and turned out 
 from the hip. The left toe is pointed well out, and the 
 free leg is carried within the circle over the print on the ice. 
 
 In these edges pay special attention to the skating hip, 
 
 116 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 making certain that it does not jut out. This assures you 
 of a true, rounded edge. The positions of your skating hip 
 and your shoulders are the two most important factors to 
 be mastered from the beginning. At no time in this, or in 
 any, school figure should the hands be more than waist 
 high. Turn the elbows in and have the hands on a natural 
 plane with the ice. Carry the fingers in a natural, extended 
 position without pointing the index finger. This gives a 
 graceful line to the body which is essential to good form 
 in figures as well as in free skating. 
 
 As you approach the halfway mark in the circle, start 
 bringing the free foot forward, at the same time allowing 
 the shoulders to rotate so that the relative position of the 
 free foot and arms has become reversed. In bringing the 
 free foot forward, make sure that it passes close to the 
 skating foot and that once it passes the toe of the un- 
 employed foot is turned out and not allowed to drag to- 
 ward the ice. As in the forward outer edge, with the pass- 
 ing of the free foot, the skating knee has straightened, but 
 now once again it slowly starts to bend as you prepare for 
 the next edge. On your reaching the center, both knees 
 are well bent, and, without stopping, you take off or push 
 as in the original start. Turn the right foot out at a forty- 
 five-degree angle and push from the inner edge of the 
 skate. Be sure and practice this start from the inner edge, 
 for it is the common fault of many skaters to strike off 
 from the toe point, which is definitely incorrect. In 
 tests this will be quickly checked up by the judges, who 
 will make you stop and start all over again. As you stroke 
 off, you will find that your arms, shoulders, body, and free 
 leg are similar to your original edge, only reversing right 
 and left positions. 
 
 117 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 Backward Outside Edge 
 
 Starting a back outside edge finds you facing squarely 
 into the first lobe of the figure eight you are to trace on the 
 ice. Your weight is placed on the left foot over a well-bent 
 left knee and balanced by placing the right toe-point in 
 the ice in a crossed position in front of the left leg. Now, 
 bearing down on the left inner back, you raise the right 
 toe-point and swing the right leg in a short arc on the 
 radius of the lobe about to be laid down. Push from the 
 forward part of the left skate and ride the edge, with well 
 bent right knee, on the forward part of the right blade. 
 As your weight shifts from left to right, your right shoul- 
 der must lead and be held lower than the left. Your em- 
 ployed hip is well in and your head looks over the right 
 shoulder at the line you are to travel. Keep the unemployed 
 leg well turned out from the hip, with the toe pointed. 
 Balance your weight in an almost crouching position and 
 lean into the center of your circle. 
 
 As you reach the halfway mark in the first lobe, the leg 
 begins to pass the employed leg, so that, in effect, it will be 
 leading as you ride back to your center. As the unem- 
 ployed leg passes, the shoulders and arms rotate so that, as 
 in the forward edges, the relative positions of arms, shoul- 
 ders, and unemployed leg are reversed. With the changing 
 of the shoulders, the head moves around so that from the 
 halfway mark in the circle it will no longer be over the 
 right shoulder but looking over the left to the outside of 
 the circle. Hold your left shoulder high. Your head and 
 left arm will aid in guiding you back to center. During 
 this change your skating knee will have straightened, but 
 now, as you ride back to the starting place, your skating 
 knee bends once more and you again assume an almost 
 
 118 
 
Forward Outside Edge 
 
%?$ 
 
 Back Inside Edge 
 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 crouching position. Bend both knees now and try to reach 
 into the circle with the left foot. As the center is reached, 
 bend the right knee hard and at the same time press from 
 the right inside edge so that the maximum amount of push 
 is behind this reach into the next lobe. Your shoulders, 
 arms, free leg, and head will all be properly placed for the 
 completion of the left back outside edge. 
 
 Back Inside Edge 
 
 This is by far and away the most difficult of the four 
 edges and will take more time and perseverance on your 
 part than any of the other three has done. The start and 
 finish on this figure are real "stinkers.” (I told you I was 
 crazy about American slang.) The start to this figure is 
 made with the back facing into the first lobe to be laid 
 down on the ice. Place all your weight on the left skate, 
 with the right toe-point touching the ice sufficiently to 
 maintain your balance. With very bent left knee, raise 
 the right foot from the ice and swing it back and behind 
 the left, at the same time turning the right shoulder across 
 the body and letting it swing back as the right leg swings 
 back. The push is from a hard, short, hooked, left inner 
 back, and as the right foot swings up to be placed on the 
 ice, you try to toe in and knee in so that as the right skate 
 strikes the ice, heel out, it will be on a true back inner edge 
 and not on the flat. Your right shoulder is now leading, 
 with the left foot held close to the print in front and well 
 turned out. 
 
 As the first quarter of the circle is completed, your head, 
 which has been looking to the outside of the print over the 
 right shoulder, now begins to rotate slowly. Without mov- 
 ing the free leg one iota, allow the head to look over the 
 
 119 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 left shoulder and to the inside of the print. If your free 
 leg moves at all during the transition of your head position, 
 a wobbly circle will be the only result possible. At the half- 
 way mark of the circle, pass the free foot close to the skat- 
 ing foot and draw it out back. The shoulders have been 
 gradually turning so that, when you are riding back to 
 rest, the left shoulder is well in the lead. 
 
 Don’t be overanxious to step onto the left inside back. 
 Take your time, and round out the first circle properly. 
 The strike-off from right to left is done by bending the 
 right knee and snapping it straight. At the same moment 
 give the body a quick rotating movement to the left. Reach 
 with the left leg and toe in, as in the beginning of the figure, 
 before the left skate is placed on the ice for the next circle. 
 
 Work hard on these edges, for they, and they alone, are 
 the basis on which all school figures are built. Once you 
 can do your edges with control and precision, you will find 
 the more advanced figures far easier to master. 
 
 Forward Outside Threes 
 
 The figure "forward outside threes to a center” is a pat- 
 tern of two threes, the turns facing each other, executed in 
 two lobes as the figure eight. This figure, plus the four 
 edges, is the basis for the waltz on ice. The start is similar 
 to the forward outside edge, the only difference being that 
 the shoulders are more squared to the print. With a well- 
 bent skating knee stroke onto a firm right outside edge. 
 Arch the back well and lean into your circle. From the 
 quarter mark to the middle of the lobe, where the turn is 
 to be done, the shoulders begin to twist. The trunk remains 
 as at the start, and it is the twist of the shoulders before- 
 hand and their untwisting at the moment of turn which 
 
 120 
 
'Pastime Patterns 
 
 will accomplish the three for you. Your left shoulder 
 should be as far around as you can force it, with the right 
 shoulder pressed back by the time the middle of the lobe 
 is reached. 
 
 In making the turn the skating knee is straightened, only 
 to be bent as soon as the turn is finished. Now, simultane- 
 ously with the untwisting of the shoulders, bring the left 
 foot close to the heel of the skating foot, and, as your body 
 turns, draw it away from the skating foot as in a back 
 inside edge. Make certain that the left hip, foot, and toe 
 remain well turned out during the entire figure. As the 
 turn is done, check your free arm and see that it keeps in 
 line with the print on the inside of the circle. The skating 
 shoulder is lower than the unemployed shoulder throughout 
 the three. Your turn now finished, ride to center on a 
 back inside edge, completing the lobe. The take-off to the 
 left forward outside three is done by bending the right 
 knee hard and with a quick snap straightening it at the 
 very moment you push from the back inside right to the 
 forward outside left. The left three is done in the same 
 manner as the right, with the position right and left re- 
 versed. 
 
 As I said at the start of the instruction on threes, though 
 you have learned no other school figures, you are now ready 
 for the waltz. Further on in this chapter I will tell you 
 how to do the waltz, and if you have mastered the figures I 
 have described you will have no difficulty at all in waltzing 
 on ice. More pleasure is to be had from these dances, by no 
 means too difficult for beginners, than almost anything 
 else in skating. Like all things pleasant, however, one must 
 work for them, and it is to this end that you must practice 
 faithfully the edges and threes you have already learned. 
 
 121 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 Pack Inside Threes 
 
 This three is the natural corollary to the forward outside 
 three. You are never required to start this figure from 
 rest in competition. The print must duplicate that of one 
 half the forward outside threes to a center. The start is 
 made as you finish a right or left forward outside three. 
 The take-off is exactly the same as in a back inside eight. 
 Bend the right knee and at the same time toe in with the 
 left foot and reach toward a firm back inside left edge. 
 Ride the inside edge until almost the halfway mark in the 
 circle, remembering to keep the skating shoulder lower 
 than the free shoulder and the skating hip well in. Lean 
 your body into the middle of the circle and stay on the 
 front part of your blade. From the quarter mark on your 
 shoulders commence to rotate to the outside so that by the 
 time the turning point is reached the left shoulder is 
 pressed well around the body and the right shoulder is 
 pushed around to a place almost over the print. Untwist 
 the shoulders and simultaneously straighten the skating 
 knee and bring the free foot close to the skating heel. The 
 turn is done by the shoulders, and there is no disturbance 
 of the free leg at all except a forcible turning out of the 
 hip as you turn. The rotation of the shoulders will place 
 the weight on the back part of the blade, and it is on this 
 part of the skate that the turn is done. You are now in a 
 correct forward outside edge, which you will finish in the 
 normal manner back to your center. 
 
 Forward Inside Threes 
 
 The forward inside three is much easier to do than the 
 forward outside, and, having already studied the latter, 
 you should have no trouble in learning to do this one. 
 
 122 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 Stroke off on a firm inside right edge. Have your back well 
 arched and lean well into the circle. Gradually allow the 
 skating shoulder to take the lead, making certain that it is 
 held lower than the unemployed shoulder. Almost from 
 the start your skating shoulder begins to twist to the left 
 as you force your body to rotate from the waist up. The 
 turn itself is perfectly natural, as all you have to do is 
 reverse your shoulders, straighten your skating knee, and 
 let your body turn around. With the unwinding of the 
 shoulders, bring the free foot close to the heel of the skat- 
 ing foot, and, as you turn, your free leg will assume the 
 same relative position as in a back outside edge. Ride up to 
 the turn of this figure on the back part of your skate, but 
 just before the turn transfer your weight to the front of 
 your skate, where it will remain until the figure is com- 
 pleted. In this, as in all figures, be careful that your hands 
 are never more than waist high and that the hands and 
 wrists are held in a natural, graceful way. 
 
 Back Outside Threes 
 
 From rest, stroke onto a firm back outside edge. As the 
 quarter mark in your circle is reached, turn your head 
 sharply over the unemployed shoulder, pressing the unem- 
 ployed shoulder back at the same time. On the right out- 
 side back this will bring the right shoulder around so that 
 it is over the tracing and motivates the turn. Keep your 
 back well arched and the skating hip well in. Keeping the 
 unemployed hip well turned out will assure the "locking” 
 of the skating hip. Ride the edge to the turn well back 
 on the blade of your skate. As you finish the turn, check 
 your shoulders by thrusting the unemployed well forward 
 as in an inside edge position. The skating knee straightens 
 
 123 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 momentarily with the turn, to be bent once more with the 
 striking of the forward inside edge position. 
 
 On reading the instructions for the threes, you must 
 have noticed a great similarity in the movement of the 
 shoulders and torso. You have found that the turn is actu- 
 ally done by the shoulders and that the free foot helps the 
 shoulders in turning by being always close to the skating 
 foot at the turn. The weight is always toward the front 
 of the blade on the forward turns, and on the heel for the 
 back threes. Your knee is bent except during the actual 
 turns themselves, when it is momentarily straightened. 
 
 Forward Change of Edge 
 
 This figure is a combination of the two edges, outer and 
 inner. The pattern you will lay down this time will be not 
 a two-lobe but a three-lobe eight. The center lobe is com- 
 prised of two separate halves, an outer half and an inner 
 half, while the two end lobes are entities unto themselves. 
 Take a firm edge, starting on the forward outside right. 
 The shoulders are more square than in the regulation eight, 
 as only half a circle is to be done on the outside edge before 
 the change, after which the whole circle on the forward 
 inside edge is made. From the quarter mark on, the skating 
 leg begins to straighten. With the straightening of the 
 skating knee the free leg starts to swing fully forward. As 
 you swing the free foot, the shoulders reverse position so 
 that the peak of the swing finds the left shoulder thrust 
 well back, with the skating shoulder forward. The foot 
 now swings back, and the shoulders reverse again. You are 
 dropping onto a forward inside edge, and, as the right 
 ankle drops, that is the moment when the shoulders and 
 free foot swing back. Riding on a hard right inside for- 
 ward edge, you must thrust the skating shoulder well back, 
 
 124 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 with the skating knee bent and the back arched. This 
 edge, done similarly to your regular forward inside, is held 
 around to the point where the change from outer to inner 
 was made, thus completing a circle. 
 
 The transition from forward outside to inside right pre- 
 sents no real difficulties, but the change from inside to out- 
 side left that follows is far harder to do. Now, as if con- 
 tinuing a forward inside eight, strike off onto the left inner 
 forward. The shoulders are squared and the free foot 
 begins to pass almost from the moment of the take-off. 
 As the center of the circle is reached, the free foot will 
 have attained the maximum amount of swing forward and 
 the left shoulder will be leading, so that both shoulders 
 and the line of the body from the waist up are almost 
 parallel with the print. The skating hip is held well in, 
 and, with the swing of the free leg, the skating knee has 
 straightened. 
 
 Now you are ready to drop onto the forward outside 
 left. Swing the free leg back; at the same time drop the 
 left ankle from the inner to the outer edge; and let the 
 shoulders reverse again partially. The shoulders do not 
 rotate completely back but only enough to have them 
 squared across the print on the forward outside left. Make 
 certain that your free foot passes close to the skating foot 
 and does not cross over the print behind you. Complete 
 this third lobe as if doing a forward outside eight. You 
 now have the tracing of three circles on the ice. Without 
 stopping, try to retrace your original print, covering your 
 tracing as closely as possible. When retracing, try to skate 
 within the original line, as then you will have a plainly 
 visible limit to go by and you will not have to cut down 
 an overextended edge to fit your first pattern. In the in- 
 struction on change of edge I have not mentioned the fact 
 
 125 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 that just as the change is made, there is an appreciable 
 second in which your balance is on the flat of the skate. 
 I purposely left this out to avoid any confusion in your 
 mind when first you attempt the figure. As you do your 
 changes, be careful that the flat in the change is but mo- 
 mentary. An extended straight line is incorrect and would 
 be marked down in competition or test. Remember, too, 
 that all three lobes must be of the same size, and as you 
 trace out your first figure you must watch closely so that 
 the three circles are consistent. 
 
 Backward Change of Edge 
 
 This is a much more difficult figure to execute correctly 
 than the forward change, and you will have to be well 
 versed in the back outside take-off. If you have really 
 learned the back edges, you will experience little trouble, 
 the main requisite being a firm, controlled start. Begin 
 on the right outside back. Stroke off firmly with the skat- 
 ing hip well in and the right shoulder down. Have the 
 right shoulder leading and the head turned and looking 
 over it inside the circle. The free leg is over the tracing in 
 front so that you are in an almost sitting position. Now, 
 as the change approaches, let the free leg swing back. At 
 the same time the right shoulder will move farther back 
 into the change. As the left foot swings back and the skat- 
 ing knee is straightened, your ankle is dropped from an 
 outer to an inner edge. With the completion of the change, 
 the free leg swings forward and your head turns, so that 
 shortly after striking the back inner, you are looking over 
 the left shoulder. Complete this circle as you would a back 
 inner eight. 
 
 126 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 As you near the place where the change took place, begin 
 raising the right knee and reach for the next circle with 
 the free leg. Now, bending the skating knee sharply and 
 toeing-in with the free leg, stroke off onto the left inside 
 back edge. Your head looks over the left shoulder momen- 
 tarily, but for the remainder of the figure it continuously 
 looks over the right. After the start, the free leg moves 
 from front to back toward the original starting point, 
 where the inside to outside change is to take place. You 
 should feel here that the draw-back of the free leg will 
 straighten your skating knee. At the time of the change 
 your free leg swings forward as your skating knee bends 
 once more, and you drop over onto the back outside left 
 edge. Be sure your skating hip does not jut out as you do 
 the change. You will find it easier to keep the skating hip 
 in if you remember to keep the right hip, leg, and toe 
 turned well out. You now finish this circle as you would 
 a plain back outside eight. 
 
 So far you have learned the four edges, the four threes, 
 and the changes of edge. In the more advanced school 
 figures you will see that the above are combined into 
 different moves such as the change-three, which is a 
 change of edge plus the threes done both forward and 
 backward, the three-change-three, which is a two-lobe- 
 three figure done on one foot with a change of edge from 
 one lobe to the other, and one-foot eights both forward and 
 backward, plus many others which I shall describe briefly 
 later on. Now it is about time for you to try some of the 
 simpler free skating moves. You have doubtless, by this 
 time, attempted some of them by yourself, but at this 
 juncture let me give you a word of advice. Learn your 
 free skating as you learn your school figures. Start with 
 
 127 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 the earlier moves, perfect these, and gradually progress to 
 the more advanced field. The trouble with most beginners 
 and their free skating is that they are overanxious to bite 
 off more than they can, figuratively, chew. The primary 
 school figures will give you the needed control in your 
 earliest free skating, and you will find that paying close 
 attention to the one will give you the desired results in the 
 other. 
 
 FREE SKATING 
 Spirals 
 
 Your first move will undoubtedly be a spiral. This is 
 nothing more than a glorified edge done with speed and 
 on a scale to cover a large surface of ice. At first your 
 speed will be gained by taking a few fast plain skating 
 strokes, but as you progress you will have to learn the 
 "run.” The easiest run is done on the toe-point of the 
 skates, but the more advanced and accepted run is done 
 on the flat of the blade. Turn the toes out and push your 
 weight from the inside edge. When you first try this, you 
 will feel that you resemble Donald Duck, but with a little 
 practice your feet will move so fast that only the illusion 
 of forceful speed is given to your audience. 
 
 Once enough momentum is gained, strike a forward out- 
 side edge position, holding the free foot higher than you 
 do in the school figure. In fact, the higher you can hold the 
 free leg, provided it is well turned out from the hip, the 
 more effective your position will be. Endeavor to give a 
 wide arc to your circle and finally to be able to cover the 
 entire width of the rink. Your greatest problem, at first, 
 will be the free leg. Make certain that, once the spiral 
 position is struck, your free leg remains steady. If you 
 
 128 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 lower and raise the free leg, you will wobble like mad, 
 and your balance will be so impaired that you won’t be 
 able to hold the spiral for more then a few feet. The arm 
 positions on this move are entirely optional, depending on 
 the ease and manner with which you do the figure. Either 
 the right or left arm can lead, but remember that, as in the 
 school figure, the skating shoulder is always held lower than 
 the free shoulder. You can vary the effect of this spiral 
 by bending the body forward and riding the edge balanced 
 well back on the blade. The more your body bends for- 
 ward, the harder you must arch your back, so that at first 
 you will find quite a tension on the muscles of your back 
 and free leg. This only indicates that you are accomplish- 
 ing your purpose. At all times keep your head up. 
 
 The inner forward spiral technique is similar to the 
 outer. In this move, especially, a well-arched back and 
 turned-out free hip are essential. This spiral is most effec- 
 tive when done with the skating shoulder leading and the 
 free shoulder pressed well back. When doing it in this 
 fashion, try to lean the body well into the circle and have 
 your chest well up. 
 
 The back outside spiral is the next move to tackle. At 
 the end of your speed-gathering run, take a forward out- 
 side left three and immediately drop into the back outside 
 right edge position. As your right skate hits the ice, give 
 yourself added speed by pushing from the left back inner. 
 When the left foot swings back and around you, to strike 
 the spiral pose, press the free hip out and point the toe. 
 You will prevent yourself from "curling in” if you press 
 the skating shoulder back and have the left shoulder and 
 arm out so that your shoulders are almost on a line with 
 the print. A variation of the shoulders and arms on this 
 
 129 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 move will change the general effect of the spiral, while the 
 technique remains the same. 
 
 The start of the inner back spiral is more difficult to do 
 than any of the others, and I advise you to practice this 
 slowly at first until you feel confident of doing it at high 
 speed. The turn is done from an inside forward to an 
 inside back edge. To do this spiral on a back inside right, 
 take a short forward inside left. The left shoulder is leading 
 and well down, with the free shoulder pressed back. The 
 right leg is held behind, with the right hip turned out. 
 With a quick twist of the shoulders let the body rotate 
 in a clockwise manner, and at the same time place the right 
 foot in a back inside edge position close to the heel of the 
 left skate. Check the rotation of the shoulders as you 
 strike the back edge, then gradually allow the skating 
 shoulder to move back as the left arm and shoulder are 
 pressed well forward. Arch the back and keep the skating 
 knee well bent. 
 
 Once you learn to control the spirals, you can do varia- 
 tions of them by reverting to your school figures once 
 again and doing a change of edge, either forward or back- 
 ward, on a spiral scale. In doing change spirals the free leg 
 remains behind or in front, as you wish, and the change is 
 effected by the use of the shoulders and the skating ankle. 
 You have now learned the basic figure for a free skating 
 program, so let us go to the first jump. 
 
 The Waltz Jump 
 
 The waltz jump is used by beginner and champion alike, 
 and its effectiveness is dependent only on the degree of 
 proficiency in its execution. It really is very simple, but, 
 done with speed and height, it can be made into one of the 
 
 130 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 outstanding highlights in any exhibition. It is comprised 
 of a half turn done in the air while the body shifts from 
 a forward outside left to back outside right. Thus your 
 body turns as in a simple three. Try this jump slowly at 
 first so that you can get the feel of leaving the ice. This, 
 because it is your first, is the only jump I will advise trying 
 slowly, as I contend that it is far less dangerous to attempt 
 jumps with speed than without. 
 
 Stroke on a forward outside left. Swing the free foot 
 forward, at the same time squaring the shoulders across the 
 print. At the peak of the swing your skating knee straight- 
 ens. Simultaneously with the straightening of the knee you 
 spring from the ice. The swing of your right leg motivates 
 the rotation of your body, enabling the left leg to swing 
 around you. As you land on the right outside back, your 
 left leg must be well behind you. On landing remember to 
 bend the skating knee to the fullest extent. This not only 
 softens the impact of your landing but gives the illusion 
 of greater height and smoothness. Do the jump a few 
 times to familiarize yourself with it, then try taking off 
 faster and springing higher into the air. The greater the 
 speed and spring, the easier the jump, as you have more 
 time to turn your body in the air before landing. 
 
 As I have already stated, free skating consists not only 
 of spirals, jumps, and spins, but also of dance steps which 
 are used to connect the highlights of your program. A 
 simple yet effective move is the man’s part of the regula- 
 tion ten-step dance. This is done by stroking left, right, 
 left, counting one on the first left edge, two on the right 
 edge, then three, four, on the second left edge, so that you 
 actually hold the third stroke twice as long as the first. 
 Even on the right edge your body still leans to the left, 
 
 131 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 straightening only slightly. The skating knee bends and 
 rises as you stroke from one foot to the other. The counts, 
 one, two, three, four, mark the actual beats in a bar of either 
 regulation march or fox-trot music. One count is allowed 
 for each of the next strokes from four to nine inclusive, 
 with another count of two on the tenth. 
 
 The fourth stroke is an inner forward right, with the 
 left foot carried at the heel of the skating foot. Let your 
 shoulders rotate around so that you can place the left foot 
 close to the right heel on a back inner left for the fifth 
 stroke. This shift from inside forward to inside back is 
 called a "mohawk.” Remember that term, because you 
 will meet it many times. For stroke six, place the right 
 foot on a back outside edge close to the left foot. Strokes 
 seven and eight are two back edges moving in line of travel 
 and done on the left and right foot respectively. Stroke 
 seven is a back inner, and eight a back outer, each one 
 placed behind the preceding edge. Stroke nine finds your 
 left foot crossing in front of your right on a back inner. 
 Ten is a forward inside right, held, as I said above, for two 
 counts. The dance, therefore, takes up three counts of 
 four, or three bars of music. When doing this in a program 
 it is best to get up speed by doing a one, two, three, and 
 then swaying onto the right edge, holding this sway for a 
 count of four. From this preliminary move go into the 
 regular ten-step, and you will find yourself not only cover- 
 ing a large amount of ice but moving rhythmically to the 
 music. 
 
 Another simple yet popular dance incorporates the edges 
 and threes. Stroke left, right, left outside three, and drop 
 from the three to a back outside right. Let the left leg 
 swing back of the right and cut behind without actually 
 
 132 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 lifting the right foot from the ice. Your cut back enables 
 your right skate to do a change of edge to right inside back, 
 with speed, at the same time facilitating the sway of your 
 body to the music. As you complete the cut-over, lift the 
 left foot off the ice and step onto a left outside forward 
 three again. Repeat the above move, but this time after 
 the cut back step onto a left back outside edge and change 
 this to left back inner by cutting behind with the right 
 foot. Finish this by stepping onto a forward outside right. 
 
 To date you have not used the toe-points of your skates 
 except for the very simple run, so now let me tell you of 
 their use in plain toe jumps. From a back outside right 
 spiral position, bend the skating knee firmly, at the same 
 time letting the left toe-point strike the ice. The maximum 
 bend of the right leg and the toe-point entering the ice are 
 simultaneous. Push from the left toe-point so that as you 
 spring from the right skate the pressure lifts you from the 
 ice. Let your shoulders rotate enough to accomplish the 
 half turn in the air. On landing, your right toe-point 
 comes in contact with ice first, with the right knee well 
 bent to push off onto a firm outside forward left edge. 
 With practice this can become most effective, as you learn 
 to coordinate the bend of the skating leg with the push of 
 the free toe. 
 
 In the story of my life I told of doing an interpretive 
 dance during my first professional appearance at Madison 
 Square Garden. That number was the Mazurka from 
 Coppelia. This next jump, which is adapted from ballet 
 dancing, was the motif around which that number was 
 built. It is known in skating as the "Mazurka jump.” This 
 is very similar to the plain toe jump described above, the 
 two chief differences being in the take-off and the position 
 
 133 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 of the feet in the air. In the plain toe jump the feet are 
 straight in the air, but in the Mazurka jump they are 
 crossed. The take-off is known as the "Mazurka step” and 
 is by way of being a dance in itself when done without the 
 jump. The jump is done as follows: Stroke forward left 
 outside edge and cut behind onto a right inside forward 
 edge. Now, as in the man’s part of the ten-step, let the 
 left skate be placed on the ice in a back inside edge position 
 close to the heel of the right skate (the mohawk again). 
 Step onto a right outside back edge, at the same time swing- 
 ing the left leg around and behind the right. Put the left 
 toe-point in the ice and lift up from both the toe-point 
 and the right skate so that a hop is made in the air. Let 
 your shoulders rotate, and as you jump cross the left foot 
 in front of the right. You land the jump on the right toe- 
 point and stroke off onto the left forward outside edge. 
 All edges and toe-points are given the same value in timing, 
 so that when the step is properly done you can count out 
 the jump to yourself, saying one, two, three, four, five, 
 six, seven. If you wish to repeat the jump, merely do so 
 from the landing, using the landing as the first step in the 
 repetition. 
 
 You have now reached a point where you should try 
 your first spin. As the name implies, a spin is nothing more 
 than the quick rotating of the body in one spot on the 
 ice. I can tell you the correct way to go into a spin, but 
 your own innate sense of balance must be your strongest 
 guide. The simplest of the spins is the double flat-foot or 
 two-foot spin. You can get the "feel” of this spin by 
 merely standing still on the ice, with weight over the left 
 foot, giving your shoulders a smart twist to the right, and, 
 as quickly, untwisting them way around to the left. As 
 
 134 
 
Loop Change Loop 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 you unwind them, let both arms be extended so that they 
 are well away from your body. Your feet must be a few 
 inches apart, and the actual pattern on the ice will be a 
 series of ringlets done as close over one spot as you can 
 accomplish. As you twist the shoulders back you will get 
 a spinning motion to your body. The left foot will, in 
 effect, be doing a back inside edge while the right is follow- 
 ing it around on a forward inside edge, with the right toe 
 turned slightly in. Your speed is attained by pulling in the 
 arms, elbows first, across your body. 
 
 The greatest fault with beginners is that they drop either 
 the left or right shoulder instead of keeping them both 
 level during the spin, or perhaps jerk their heads back and 
 forth. Once you begin to spin, it is essential that you look 
 straight ahead of you. If you drop either head or shoulders, 
 you will start to wobble and will be unable to continue the 
 spin. Looking straight ahead of you will lessen dizziness, 
 a modicum of which is probably in store for you as you 
 learn to spin. 
 
 Before going any further, I want to let you in on a few 
 secrets that should help you to happier skating. These are 
 tried and proven facts that will aid your balance and posi- 
 tioning. I will list them as a short series of exercises. 
 
 1. Foot and ankle exercise. Take off your shoes and 
 stockings and sit back in a chair in a relaxed manner. 
 Stretch your legs out in front of you, and, with hands 
 pressed firmly down on your knee caps, tense your feet 
 as much as possible, at the same time pressing your toes 
 down. Now try to wiggle your toes, both feet at once, 
 starting with the big and second toe and working outward. 
 This will seem hard at first, but it is the most relaxing exer- 
 cise you can possibly do either before or after skating. 
 
 135 
 
Pastime Patterns 
 
 2. Continuation of the above. When your toes and 
 feet are tired from the above exercise, stop and let the blood 
 course through your feet for a few seconds. Raise your 
 legs as in the first exercise, but this time relax the foot 
 muscles. Now turn your entire foot in a circular motion, 
 using only the ankle, no other part of the leg, to achieve 
 the turn. Do this first with the right and then with the left 
 foot. This will help strengthen the tendons and cords of 
 the ankles. 
 
 3. Stretching exercise. This is very similar to bar work 
 among dancers. It is excellent for a skater, since it not only 
 loosens too tight muscles but is of great value in correcting 
 faulty positions on ice. Place a chair face-in toward the 
 wall. Take firm hold on the back of the chair with your 
 left hand. Stand on the flat of the right foot and slowly 
 raise the left leg from the hip socket straight out to the 
 side, forcing the left knee to turn so that the kneecap is on 
 top and the foot flat, sole down. Press the right arm well 
 back from the shoulder and arch your back as much as 
 possible. Make certain that the left leg is straight out and 
 not bent at the knee. Repeat this exercise on the right leg 
 until you feel that you can really get your free leg well up 
 and turned out at the same time. If there is a large mirror 
 handy, it is well to practice in front of it, for then you can 
 correct your position from the outset. Back bending and 
 any of the allied limbering exercises are excellent to keep 
 you in trim and will all be helpful to your skating. 
 
 136 
 
CHAPTER NINE 
 
 For Enthusiasts 0/7 
 
 IF YOU HAVE LEARNED THE FIGURES WHICH I HAVE DE- 
 scribed so far, you are ready to pass the first and second 
 United States Figure Skating Association tests and to go 
 into the more advanced field. The next figures are required 
 in all competition from the bottom of the ladder to the 
 top. I stress again here, despite being repetitious, that you 
 must have mastered the earlier school figures before you 
 can hope to do the advanced ones with control and pre- 
 cision. Your edges are still the basis for what is to follow. 
 Without a complete grounding in them you are lost. 
 
 ADVANCED SCHOOL FIGURES 
 Double Threes 
 
 The first of the advanced figures is a natural corollary 
 of the threes already learned. This figure, called a forward 
 outside double three, is done in a two-lobe eight. Each lobe 
 has two three turns done at the one third and two thirds 
 of the way marks, so that your tracing on the ice resembles 
 a clover leaf. To do this figure with ease, you must remem- 
 
 137 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 ber that the shoulders rotate from the start through the 
 two three turns and will be checked only after the second 
 turn is complete. The start is the same as a forward outside 
 eight, but keep it in mind that, once you are on the right 
 outside edge, your shoulders should begin twisting to the 
 right. 
 
 Stroke off on the right with the shoulders almost squared 
 to the print, and at once begin pressing the right shoulder 
 back. The left shoulder leads, and, as you approach the 
 third-way mark, let your free leg lower so that the free 
 foot is almost at right angles to the skating foot. The free 
 hip is turned well out and the skating hip is held in. With 
 the rotation of the shoulders lean the body in toward the 
 center of your circle. The three turn is done in the manner 
 already described (see forward outside threes). The in- 
 side back edge is held for a full third-circle, thus placing 
 the second three turn directly opposite the first. This first 
 turn is done in a free manner without undue checking on 
 the part of your shoulders following the turn. The left 
 leg and foot must stay on a line with the tracing you are 
 to do and, in effect, will round out the circle between the 
 two turns. As the two-third way mark is approached, 
 your weight is imperceptibly changed from the forward 
 to the back part of the blade. At the same time the shoul- 
 ders are still twisting to the right and the head is held look- 
 ing over the right shoulder to the outside of the print. At 
 the point of turn the free foot has been allowed to drop 
 so that it is almost parallel with the skating foot. As you 
 turn, the free foot remains in the same relative place, and 
 you finish in a forward outside edge position, with the free 
 leg and hip well turned out and pressed back. As the second 
 turn is done, check the rotation of the shoulders by press- 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 ing the left one well back. The turns, as in any other three, 
 are done simultaneously with the straightening of the skat- 
 ing knee. Remember that your arms are held only waist 
 high, and from the outset keep in mind the relative placing 
 of the two threes. The left outside forward double three 
 is done in the same manner as the above; the start is from 
 a right outside forward to a left outside forward edge. 
 
 Another advanced figure, the forward inside double 
 three, incorporates the same rotating motion as the outside 
 double three. Start on a forward inside right, the right 
 shoulder leading almost from the beginning. Press the left 
 shoulder well back and turn the left hip and free leg 
 well out. As you near the first turn, drop the free foot to 
 the heel of the skating foot so that when you are doing the 
 turn the free leg will straighten out well behind you. Your 
 shoulders rotate constantly, and, on finishing the first turn, 
 your head should be looking over the left shoulder to the 
 outside of the print. This will facilitate the turning of the 
 shoulders and torso from the waist up. Remember that 
 though you turn from the waist up, your free leg and hip 
 are still turned well out. If you drop your free knee in, you 
 will not only look awkward but will throw yourself so off 
 balance that recovery will be well-nigh impossible. Ride the 
 next third of the circle on the forward part of the blade 
 and prepare your free foot for the turn by dropping it 
 gradually close to the print until it is parallel with the skat- 
 ing foot. Your shoulders have now twisted around so that 
 you will do the turn without any effort. Straighten the 
 skating knee as you turn and let the free foot pass to the 
 front. Check the shoulders to make sure that your left 
 shoulder now leads and your right shoulder is held low and 
 back. Complete the lobe in this position, with the free foot 
 
 139 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 and shoulder leading. Your take-off is the same as in doing 
 a forward inside eight. Remember, as you stroke from 
 right to left, to turn out the free hip and leg immediately 
 upon starting the figure on the left foot. All instructions 
 for doing the figure on the right foot apply to the left. 
 
 The variant for this figure is called a double three change 
 double three. This means that both lobes in the figure are 
 done on the same foot, connected by a change of edge. 
 Thus, your first lobe is an outside double three and your 
 second an inside. You must watch in this that as you com- 
 plete the first lobe you ride back for the change well on the 
 heel of the skate. This will give you added speed and make 
 the change easier. The take-off, while controlled, must be 
 far more vigorous than when you are doing a single figure. 
 If you seem to have difficulty at first in getting around both 
 lobes, go back to your forward change of edge and practice 
 it for a while. You’ll find that if you remember just where 
 your balance should be on the change and you have learned 
 the double three figure singly, the double three change 
 double three will come with a little practice. 
 
 Having explained the forward double threes, I shall go 
 on to backward double threes. There is a great similarity 
 in the technique of the forward and back double threes in 
 that the rotation of the shoulders is the motivating force 
 lying behind each. You will experience a little more trouble 
 doing these next two figures, for the take-off is naturally 
 harder than a forward take-off. Speed in your start is 
 essential in order that you may get around each lobe with- 
 out having to strain your edge to get back to your starting 
 point. Without enough momentum at the beginning, you 
 would have to pull the second three, and thus complete the 
 figure incorrectly. 
 
 140 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 Start the figure on a right outside back. Have the skat- 
 ing knee well bent, with the right shoulder held low and 
 pressed well back. Your head looks over the left shoulder, 
 and the right arm is at right angles to the print. As the 
 third-of-the-way mark nears, let the left foot swing back 
 until the toe of the left skate is parallel with the heel of 
 the right. The shoulders meanwhile have twisted enough 
 so that you are ready for the first three turn. The skating 
 knee straightens with the transfer of weight from the front 
 to the back of the skate, and your body is then allowed to 
 rotate. With the turn, the shoulders untwist, so that on the 
 forward inside edge the left shoulder is well to the front, 
 with the skating shoulder pressed back. The free foot is 
 also in front of you, and you ride the next third of the 
 circle on the heel of the blade. On nearing the second turn, 
 let the free foot swing in a slight arc from front to back, 
 so that at the time of the second three it is held almost at 
 right angles to the heel of the skating foot. With the 
 change of the free foot the shoulders themselves reverse, so 
 that as the turn is done the left shoulder is pressed well 
 back, with the right leading. Let the shoulders do the turn 
 for you; then immediately check them to prevent curling 
 in too much. The free foot, with the turn, passes behind, 
 and the head looks over the left shoulder. As you straighten 
 the skating knee for the take-off onto the left foot, let the 
 shoulder reverse so that you finish the lobe on a back out- 
 side edge position. The take-off from right to left is the 
 same as in a back outside eight, but remember that your 
 shoulders are to begin rotating as soon as the left outside 
 edge is struck. The continuous rise and fall of the skating 
 knee for the turns, plus the rotation of the shoulders, makes 
 this figure grand fun to do. 
 
 141 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 The inside back double three is, by nature of its start, 
 the hardest of the four double threes to do. As in the inside 
 back eight, the inside double three take-off presents the 
 major problem of the entire figure. The take-off must, of 
 necessity, be stronger than in a back inside eight, as more 
 speed is needed to get around the lobe and still accomplish 
 the two three turns. With the proper use of the shoulders 
 and free leg, some speed may be picked up in the turns 
 themselves, but actually it must also be there to start with. 
 
 Begin on a firm back inside right. As soon as the edge 
 is struck, let the head look over the right shoulder, and 
 from the waist up twist the torso so that the shoulders are 
 rotating for the first third of the lobe until the time of the 
 turn. The free leg, held in front, is gradually drawn up, 
 until, at the time of the turn, it is parallel with the skating 
 foot. The skating hip is well in, and the head and shoulders 
 forced well around to the right. Your body forces the turn, 
 the skating knee straightens and bends, the free foot drops 
 to the front, and the shoulders check slightly, with the left 
 shoulder leading. Let the free foot pass slowly back, at the 
 same time forcing the shoulders to twist until they reach 
 their maximum point of rotation at the second three turn. 
 As you reach the second three, the free foot is brought up 
 close to the heel of the skating foot at an almost right- 
 angled position. The turn is done as a simple forward three. 
 The shoulders immediately check, so that the left shoulder 
 is in front. The free leg is well turned out from the hip, 
 and, as you straighten the skating knee for the take-off 
 onto the left foot, let the shoulders reverse position and 
 finish the lobe as you would a back inner edge. With the 
 changing of feet remember to start twisting the torso for 
 the first turn on the left foot. 
 
 142 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 The variant of the back double threes, the back double 
 three change double three, is quite difficult to manage at 
 first, since your take-off must supply enough speed for 
 four three turns plus the change of edge. Try to draw out 
 your weight into the second lobe, as you change your edge, 
 by straightening the skating knee at the moment of draw- 
 ing back the unemployed foot. 
 
 Loops 
 
 Loops, the name of the next figure on our schedule, will 
 probably intrigue you more than any of the other school 
 figures. While ranking among the most difficult, loops 
 will give you a sense of complete well-being once you have 
 learned to do them correctly. There is something fascinat- 
 ing about controlling the movement of your body so that 
 it will fit into the confined space allowed for this figure. 
 When you get to the point where you can lay down your 
 first diagram and retrace it three times, you will get a 
 tremendous kick out of the results. 
 
 The print from a set of loops resembles two small round 
 "e’s” placed face to face at the top of a small two-lobe eight. 
 Control of your muscles is essential in this figure, since 
 the actual print is small in size while the e-shaped lobe at 
 the top of each individual lobe is comparatively large. The 
 loop itself is almost one fourth the diameter of the circle. 
 The first of the loops starts on a forward outside edge. 
 
 Start on a forward outside right. The take-off is neces- 
 sarily less vigorous than any other forward start, for with 
 too much speed you would be unable to control the figure. 
 You actually gain speed during the move, and, when re- 
 tracing, you will push off more lightly each time to coun- 
 teract this added momentum. The unemployed shoulder 
 
 143 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 and arm are thrust well forward from the very start, be- 
 cause you are going to twist your body to the maximum 
 from the waist up. The skating shoulder is down and 
 pressed well back. Keep the skating hip well in, lean into 
 the center of the circle with your body, and let your head 
 incline in the same direction. The unemployed hip and leg 
 are both turned out, and the skating knee is well bent. 
 You must experience a feeling of continuous twisting from 
 the very start of the figure. As you reach the top of the 
 lobe, the twist of your body will force you to curl in. Guide 
 your shoulders so that your tracing begins to form an 
 ellipse on the ice. Your free leg and hip are both so well 
 turned out that you feel the pull of them on your body, 
 and it is here that the free leg works as a spring, giving you 
 added momentum to complete the ellipse you have started. 
 As the free leg swings around you, the skating knee 
 straightens, and, when the free foot is brought forward, 
 the shoulders are checked. You do the actual loop on the 
 heel of the skate and ride out on the heel with the skating 
 shoulder now leading and the unemployed one held well 
 back. 
 
 The difficulty in doing good loops lies in making them 
 the correct size. The ellipse should be twice as long as it is 
 broad. In your first attempts, the loop will probably be a 
 small circle in itself. This is known as a ringlet and is de- 
 cidedly incorrect. If your balance is not held within the 
 circle itself at the time of the loop, or if you swing your 
 free foot around, or check too soon, you will have an added 
 cross-cut at the top of the turn. Practice will give you a 
 feeling for the exact moment when the unemployed foot 
 should come forward, and when to check it. The import- 
 ant thing is to keep the weight well inside the circle at all 
 
 144 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 times. Also do not straighten the skating knee too soon in 
 the turn. Remember to keep the hands waist high, for, if 
 they are held improperly, you cannot control your body 
 in the natural rotation needed to do the figure. If you can 
 imagine at the time of the turn that the free leg is doing 
 a loop around your skating leg, this will greatly help get- 
 ting the feel of the figure. The left outside loop is done in 
 the same manner. Pay special attention to your take-off 
 for the second lobe. Step onto the left outside edge very 
 gently, because your speed has already increased. If you 
 are not careful in your take-off, the second lobe will be 
 much larger than the first. 
 
 Inside Fonvard Loops 
 
 Start your first inside loop on the inside forward right 
 edge. As you stroke off, the right shoulder is thrust well 
 forward, with the free shoulder well back, so that your 
 shoulders are parallel with the print. The free foot and 
 leg are turned out and held not too high above the ice. 
 The shoulders immediately start to rotate to the left, forc- 
 ing your body to twist from the waist up. Incline your 
 weight to the inside of the circle and carry your arms and 
 hands in an easy manner. Remember to keep the skating 
 shoulder well down, for it is going to guide you around the 
 loop. Your balance is on the back part of the blade, where 
 it will remain for the entire figure. Your torso twists more 
 and more around, so that you find yourself forced to do the 
 loop ellipse at the top of the lobe. In the inside loop the 
 free foot will actually describe a loop in the air on the 
 inside of the circle. This passing of the free foot in a loop 
 movement is simultaneous with the straightening of the 
 skating knee. When coming out of the loop itself, check 
 
 145 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 your shoulders and bend the skating knee once more. Ride 
 back to center with the left shoulder leading. Your shoul- 
 ders are in correct position for the next lobe. Do the left 
 inside loop in the same manner as the right. As I said be- 
 fore, about the outside loops, watch your stepping from 
 right to left and try not to gather any more speed than 
 you already have. Be careful not to swing the free foot too 
 violently forward in the actual turn, but to do it gradually 
 with the straightening of the skating knee. 
 
 Many people find the back outside loops far easier to do 
 than the forward inner set. This is because there is a more 
 natural rotation of the body when going backward, and 
 wBen confined to the small space required in loops. 
 Whether this figure is a natural for you or whether you 
 have to work hard on it, you will, in any case, agree that it 
 is fun to do. I consider this the most enjoyable of all the 
 school figures, and I feel sure that, if you give a little time 
 to practicing it, you will agree with me. 
 
 As the outline of this figure is done on such a small 
 scale, your position on the back outside right will be an 
 almost crouched one. The easiest way for me to describe 
 this crouched position is to say that you "sit” on your back 
 edge. Stroke off on a back outside right, and for a fraction 
 of a second your head will look inside the circle, so that 
 you visualize just where the maximum rotation will bring 
 the loop. Your left shoulder begins pressing well back, 
 with the skating shoulder held low and to the front of your 
 body. The unemployed hip is well turned out, and the free 
 foot is held in front over the print. Ride your edge on the 
 front part of the blade, but make certain that your weight 
 doesn’t get up on the toe when turning the loop. You will 
 get the same feeling as in the forward loops that, having 
 
 146 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 turned your body so much, nothing except a loop is pos- 
 sible. As you sink into the actual turn itself, the skating 
 knee is well bent, with the free foot still held in front of 
 you. Now as you turn the loop, let the skating knee 
 straighten and at the same time let the free foot swing 
 around and behind you. Your head momentarily is square 
 with the print and then looks over the left shoulder until 
 the finish of the lobe. As you come out of the loop, check 
 your shoulders, so that now the skating shoulder is pressed 
 well back while your head is looking over the left shoulder, 
 which is thrust well forward. Try to keep your body lean- 
 ing into the circle, and at all times watch that the skating 
 shoulder doesn’t get higher than the free. Stroke off softly 
 onto the left outer back and follow the same instructions 
 as the above. 
 
 Inner Back Loops 
 
 While the actual loop in the inner back is not hard to 
 form, it still presents more difficulty than any of the other 
 three loops in point of control. When you first attempt 
 this figure, there is a natural tendency to curl in after the 
 loop is made. You must watch so that you can finish the 
 lobe on a natural curved circle which matches the first half 
 of your figure. There is also a tendency to let the free foot 
 do the entire loop without help from the shoulders or body. 
 This will only lead to an ill-formed, uncontrolled figure 
 which is certainly not what you are striving for. 
 
 Start on the back inside right. The weight is on the 
 front part of the blade and your head is looking over the 
 right shoulder to the outside of the print. The skating 
 shoulder is held low and pressed well back, while the free 
 shoulder is forward, with the unemployed arm across the 
 
 147 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 body over the print. You must keep your skating hip in. 
 The head and shoulders in their present position will help 
 lock your body so that you are actually leaning into the 
 circle but only from the waist down. The free leg is held 
 in front of you and slightly across the print, so that your 
 entire position is forcing you to do the loop. As in the inner 
 forward, the free leg will describe a loop in the air, and 
 as you gradually straighten the skating knee, coming out 
 of the loop, the free leg will pass to the back. Your shoul- 
 ders are almost squared across the print as you finish the 
 turn, and your head begins looking into the circle and back 
 to your center to finish on a normal back inside edge posi- 
 tion. The left lobe is done in the same fashion. Don’t for- 
 get my admonition about increasing your speed as you 
 change from one foot to another. It still holds true in this 
 loop as much as in the other three. 
 
 Practice your loops thoroughly, for in a short time you 
 will be expected to do the variant on them. This is called 
 loop change loop and is exceedingly hard to do properly, 
 owing to the difficulty of the change in such a small space 
 combined with the increased speed as each loop is laid down. 
 The easy loop combination is a change loop. This is a three- 
 lobe figure with a change of edge move supplying the 
 middle lobe. The difficulty of the change loop lies in plac- 
 ing the loops themselves correctly facing. I am certain 
 that you will have fun doing all the loops and that, like 
 myself, you will consider them some of your favorite fig- 
 ures. 
 
 Counters 
 
 The counter is a three-lobe figure similar in shape to a 
 change of edge. Where the change would normally take 
 
 148 
 
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 place, there is a turn which is the counterpart of a three, 
 in that the top of the turn faces away from your center. 
 To make the counter, your body turns in the opposite 
 direction from a three, so that actually, instead of facing 
 your center at the time of the turn, you have your back to 
 it and you progress from the first half circle to complete 
 a full circle still farther away from the original starting 
 point. The first turn is done forward, and the second turn, 
 to complete the figure, is done backward. If you are doing 
 an outside counter, you skate from outside to outside edge 
 before and after the turn respectively. Similarly with the 
 inner, the edge is from inside to inside, whether doing the 
 turn forward or backward. Now that you have a mental 
 picture, let us go on to the actual figure itself. 
 
 Start on a forward outside right edge. Your shoulders 
 will not move from the start until the half circle is reached 
 and the turn is done. The skating knee is well bent, with the 
 body slightly inclined into the center of the circle. The 
 skating shoulder is down, with the unemployed shoulder 
 well back. The free leg is passed forward so that it has 
 swung to its maximum as the turn is made. Your unem- 
 ployed hip rnd free leg are well turned out. As the free 
 leg passes, the skating knee starts to straighten. There is a 
 definite twist between the free leg and the shoulders which 
 you feel at the time of turn, and it is the releasing of this 
 twist which will create the turn. Your weight is now on 
 the front part of the skate, where it will remain through- 
 out the turn and on the back outside right edge to follow. 
 Let your body twist from the waist. At the same time, 
 twist the shoulders so that, on turning, your right shoulder 
 is leading, with the left thrust well forward. The unem- 
 ployed leg remains in front, following the turn, and your 
 
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 head is looking over the right shoulder to the inside of the 
 circle. You now ride this right back outside edge for a 
 complete lobe, your free leg and shoulder moving the same 
 way as in a back outside eight. Thus, to date, you have 
 done half a lobe on the forward right outside edge, a 
 counter turn, and a full lobe on the right back outside 
 edge, bringing you back to the point of the turn. Now 
 stroke off on a back outside left edge. With the take-off, 
 you let your head look to the inside of the circle over your 
 left shoulder and back toward the original starting point, 
 where the back counter is to be done. Keep the skating hip 
 well in and the skating shoulder leading until the moment 
 of the turn. The free leg swings back, and with the ap- 
 proach to the turn the skating knee starts to straighten. 
 Your shoulders should now have reached their maximum 
 rotating point and be ready to unwind. The weight is 
 carried on the heel of the skate at the point of turn. The 
 free leg is well behind you, carrying your weight into the 
 next lobe. Untwist your shoulders and drop your ankle 
 onto the outside forward left edge. Your free foot will 
 still be behind you, and your right shoulder must be thrust 
 well back, with the skating shoulder still leading. Com- 
 plete this circle as you would if you were doing a forward 
 outside eight, and thus you finish the three-lobe counter 
 figure. 
 
 Inside Forward and Inside Back. Counters 
 
 The pattern for this figure is the same as for the outside 
 counters, merely done from an inside edge. Start on a for- 
 ward inside right. The left shoulder is thrust well forward, 
 with the skating shoulder back. The body must lean into 
 
 150 
 
Inside Forward and Inside Back Counter 
 
Inside Forward and Inside Back Counter ( Cont .) 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 the circle and the skating hip be kept well in. Pass the free 
 leg forward so that at the time of the turn you feel it draw- 
 ing your weight into the next circle. The left shoulder is 
 leading, and there is a definite feeling of twist to your body. 
 Now let the shoulders rotate, as you turn on the front part 
 of the skate, so that with the finish of the turn the skating 
 shoulder is well forward, with the left shoulder pressed 
 way back. The unemployed foot remains in front of you 
 following the turn, to be drawn back as you do the com- 
 plete back inside right edge. Stroke off onto the left back 
 inner, and immediately your head will fall to the inside 
 of the print, looking back over the right shoulder. Draw 
 the free foot back and slightly across the print behind you. 
 Your right shoulder leads into the turn, with the left shoul- 
 der down and back. Straighten the skating knee and at 
 the same time turn your body. As you strike the forward 
 inside left edge position, your shoulders will be reversed 
 so that the right shoulder leads, with the left one thrust 
 well behind you. The unemployed leg remains behind after 
 the turn, and you complete the circle as you would in 
 doing a forward inside left eight. Remember to keep the 
 skating hip well in at all times when doing your counters, 
 and the free hip and leg turned out. The three lobes must 
 be kept the same size, so, as you complete each turn, try to 
 visualize in your mind’s eye just what size and shape to 
 make the succeeding lobe. Carry your arms, as always, 
 waist high, and don’t drop your head at the turns but keep 
 it well up, with your back firmly arched. The rise and fall 
 of the skating knee helps the natural turning of the shoul- 
 ders, which, in turn, forces the actual counter itself. This 
 is not only an important school figure but will be used 
 extensively in your free skating moves later on. 
 
 151 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 Outside Forward Rockers 
 
 The rocker is similar in pattern to the counter (that is, 
 the shape is a three-lobe eight) , the difference being in the 
 direction of the turn. This figure is also skated from either 
 outside to outside or inside to inside edge, as the case may 
 call for. The turn is in the same direction as a three, but 
 there the resemblance ceases. From a forward outside edge 
 you progress for a half circle, then turn the body as in a 
 three but drop onto the backward outside edge, which is 
 held for an entire lobe. 
 
 The greatest problems about this figure are holding a 
 hard edge before and after the turn and maintaining a true 
 circle after the turn is finished. You must be careful that 
 the turn is from edge to edge and that no flat appears either 
 before or after the turn. 
 
 Start on a forward outside right. The shoulders are 
 fairly well squared at the take-off but immediately begin 
 to rotate to the right. As the left shoulder is thrust more 
 and more forward, the free foot passes in front. Your 
 skating hip is well in, and, though you are leaning into your 
 circle, your back must be well arched. On approaching 
 the point of turn, start raising the skating knee. Now, as 
 you are about to turn, begin unwinding your shoulders, 
 keeping the free foot and hip still well turned out and in 
 front of you. Now straighten the skating knee and at the 
 same time allow the shoulders to unwind completely. As 
 you unwind the shoulders, your body will turn as in a 
 three. Drop onto a hard outside back and let your head 
 look over your left shoulder in the direction you are to 
 travel. Your left arm and shoulder are far back, while the 
 right shoulder is thrust forward, with the right arm almost 
 across your body. The turn is done on the front part of 
 
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 the blade, and you hold the back outside edge on the for- 
 ward part of the blade throughout the entire back outside 
 circle. As you turn, your free foot remains in front, with 
 special attention to the free hip and leg being well turned 
 out. The position of the free leg is close to the skating leg, 
 with the unemployed foot held near to the print. The skat- 
 ing knee is well bent, and, as you ride the back outside 
 circle, you gradually straighten the skating knee and pass 
 the free leg back. This will give you added speed to get 
 back to center. 
 
 Try to round out the back outside edge so that it will 
 match in size the first half lobe you have laid down. Re- 
 member to keep the head always looking in the direction 
 of travel, for this forces your shoulders to stay in their 
 correct position and helps make a true, rounded edge after 
 the turn. 
 
 Outside Back Rockers 
 
 As you finish the forward outside right rocker, you 
 stroke onto a back outside left. Momentarily the head 
 looks inside the circle, but from then on the head is to 
 the outside, looking hard over the right shoulder. Almost 
 from the start the shoulders begin to twist, so that at the 
 time of the turn the left shoulder is pressed as far around 
 as possible, with the right shoulder almost across the print. 
 The right leg passes back with the twisting of the shoulders. 
 Remember to keep the skating hip well in, and the free 
 hip and leg well turned out. On approaching the turn, 
 drop the right foot close to the heel of the skating foot and 
 straighten the skating knee. With the straightening of the 
 skating knee, release the twist of your shoulders and let 
 your body twist around so that the left ankle falls over 
 
 153 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 onto a hard outside left edge. The free foot stays Dehind, 
 and the shoulders now must be in a checked position so that 
 the right shoulder is in the lead, with the skating shoulder 
 held well back. Gradually allow the skating leg to 
 straighten, and as you do so let the free foot pass forward. 
 Hold this position as you would a regular forward outside 
 edge, watching that you draw out the circle enough to 
 balance the other two lobes already done. Keep your back 
 strongly arched at all times and remember that though 
 your body may seem to be leaning outside the circle, from 
 the waist down you are actually leaning well inside the 
 circle. Also try to keep your head up. If you drop your 
 head forward, you have just that much more excess weight 
 to overcome in the delicate balance of the turn, and, apart 
 from the detriment to your general appearance, the figure 
 will be just that much harder to do. 
 
 Inside Forward Rockers 
 
 The inside forward rocker will, I imagine, seem easier 
 to learn than the outside forward rocker. The difficulty 
 will come in holding the inner edge after the turn. If 
 you really watch what your shoulders are doing, you will 
 soon overcome the tendency to curl in on the edge follow- 
 ing the turn both on the forward and back inner rockers. 
 
 Start on an inside forward right. The skating shoulder 
 is held very low, and from the start the left shoulder is 
 thrust back. The skating knee is well bent, and the skating 
 hip held in. With the pressing back of the left shoulder 
 the left leg passes to the front and is held close to the print, 
 with the free foot well turned out. Keep your weight on 
 the center of the blade, but, as you turn, shift it to the 
 forward part of the skate and keep it there. Now 
 
 154 
 
Inside Forward and Inside Back Rocker 
 
«lft i 
 
 Inside Forward and Inside Back Rocker ( Cont .) 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 straighten the skating knee and at the same time reverse 
 the shoulders so that you "lift” yourself over the turn. The 
 straightening of the skating knee, combined with the turn- 
 ing of the shoulders, gives you the feeling that your body 
 is twisting from the waist up in one direction and from 
 the waist down in the other. Following the turn the skating 
 knee is again bent strongly. The skating foot remains in 
 front after the turn, and the skating shoulder is thrust 
 back. The left shoulder is well to the fore, with the left 
 arm across your body over the print. Now as you allow 
 the skating knee to rise slowly, pass the free foot back. 
 Let the head look inside the circle, and ride the edge back 
 to the turn. The take-off is the same as when doing a back 
 inner eight. The head, however, remains looking over the 
 left shoulder to the outside of the print. The left shoulder 
 is well back, with the right thrust forward so that the 
 shoulders are twisting from the very moment of take-off. 
 Draw the free foot back slowly; at the moment of turn, 
 the toe of the free foot is placed close to the heel of the 
 skating foot. Your shoulders reach their maximum twist 
 as the skating knee straightens. Let your body turn, then 
 again bend the skating knee and immediately check the 
 shoulders, so that now the right shoulder leads, with the 
 skating shoulder held back. The free foot remains behind 
 after the turn, to be brought slowly forward as you com- 
 plete the left forward inside circle and finish the third lobe 
 of the figure. 
 
 Practice on this figure brings an understanding of its 
 name. Once you get the rise and fall of the skating knee 
 synchronized with the twisting and untwisting of the 
 shoulders, there is a distinct feeling of rocking in the turn. 
 When correctly done, this figure is most enjoyable. 
 
 155 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 Brackets 
 
 You have finally come to the last lap in the school figure 
 mile. The four brackets will finish my instruction on 
 school skating. The variant on the brackets — bracket 
 change bracket starting backward — is the most difficult 
 of all the figures, and is always included in the gold medal 
 senior test. Brackets are done in a two-lobe figure with a 
 turn resembling a bracket at the top of each lobe. They 
 are done from both inside and outside edges, starting for- 
 ward and backward. 
 
 Outside Fonuard and Inside Back Brackets 
 
 I will begin on the forward outside brackets. A bracket 
 turn is done from an inside to an outside edge, or vice versa. 
 On the forward outside bracket, therefore, your skate starts 
 on an outside forward and finishes on an inside back edge. 
 
 Stroke off onto a forward outside right edge. The skat- 
 ing shoulder is held low and thrust forward, with the left 
 shoulder pressed well back. The skating arm is held across 
 the body over the print. It is essential to keep the skating 
 hip well in and the free leg well turned out. The turn 
 is in the same direction as when doing a counter, but, in- 
 stead of progressing into another circle, you will, following 
 the turn, return to your center and so complete a single 
 lobe. As you ride up to the turn, you must press the free 
 shoulder farther and farther back, so that your hips are 
 in a completely open position. At the same time, with the 
 free hip still well turned out, let the free foot drop to the 
 heel of the skating foot. Thus at the time of turn your 
 free foot is pressed around even further than in a right- 
 angle position to the skating foot. Your weight shifts to 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 the front part of the skate for the turn and remains there 
 from then on. Straighten your skating knee and turn your 
 body. At the same moment the shoulders rotate so that 
 with the turn the skating shoulder is thrust well behind, 
 with the left shoulder leading out of the turn. The skating 
 knee is again well bent. The free foot remains in front. 
 Your head should now be looking over the left shoulder 
 to the inside of the print. As your skating knee straightens, 
 let the free foot pass back and finish the lobe as in a back 
 inside edge. 
 
 The second part of this figure starts from an inside 
 back edge. Stroke off on a left back inside eight and imme- 
 diately let your head look over the right shoulder toward 
 the point of turn. Let your eyes glance for a fraction of a 
 second at the first lobe, so that your turns will be directly 
 opposite each other. Draw the free leg past the skating 
 foot, and as you are about to turn, let the free foot drop 
 to the heel of the skating foot. Your right shoulder is 
 pressed well back, and your weight is on the back of the 
 blade. Straighten the skating knee and at the same time 
 allow the shoulders to rotate so that you raise your body 
 and turn — again onto a bent skating knee. The skating 
 shoulder is still well back, with the unemployed shoulder 
 leading. The free foot is now in front, and you ride the 
 forward outside edge back to center, with the skating hip 
 well in to insure a rounded circle, and finish the second 
 lobe. Here once again, at the risk of seeming repetitious, 
 I want to stress the arm positions. Do be careful to see that 
 the arms don’t get above or below the waist-level and that 
 the hands are correctly held. 
 
 Forward Inside and Back Outside Brackets 
 
 The shoulder position on the start of the forward inside 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 bracket is the same as on a forward inside edge. Starting 
 on the right foot, therefore, you will have your left shoulder 
 leading, with the skating shoulder and arm held back. 
 The free leg and hip must be turned far out, because, as 
 you approach the turn, the free leg passes forward to be 
 in front of you, almost at right angles to the skating toe 
 at the time of the turn. Your skating shoulder presses 
 back more and more, and, as you raise your skating knee 
 for the turn, the shoulders twist and you drop into a back 
 outside edge position, with the left shoulder well in the 
 lead. The skating foot does not pass forward but remains 
 behind you. Your weight for the turn is on the front part 
 of your skate and will stay there until the lobe is completed. 
 Let your head look back over the left shoulder and stay 
 there looking to the outside of the print until the lobe 
 is done. 
 
 You are now in a position to stroke off onto a back out- 
 side left edge. As you stroke off, let your head look over 
 the left shoulder to the inside of the print. Keep your skat- 
 ing hip well in and the skating knee well bent. As the turn- 
 ing point nears, the right shoulder will be twisted until it 
 is over the print, while the skating shoulder is thrust pro- 
 portionately back. Let the free foot pass back until it is 
 parallel with the skating foot, where it will be at the time 
 of the turn. Now, as the skating knee straightens, the 
 shoulders twist so that as the turn is done the skating 
 shoulder is still well back, with the left shoulder leading. 
 With the turn, the free foot is thrust behind, and you are 
 now in an open inner edge position again on bent skating 
 knee. The weight has been on the heel of the skate for the 
 turn, and it stays there until the forward inner lobe is 
 completed. 
 
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Bracket Change Bracket 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 Practice these four brackets conscientiously until you 
 feel that not only are the turns done from clean edge to 
 clean edge, but the circles before and after each turn 
 are rounded and true. A great fault with many, even 
 first-class skaters, is that each lobe is not rounded. The 
 edge leading up to and away from the turn is flattened 
 out, thus making the figure incorrect. You may have this 
 fault at first, but when you see that flat line across the 
 top of each lobe, remember that you are not doing correct 
 brackets. The remedy for this is to press the skating hip 
 well in, and the unemployed hip out, so that your edge is 
 forced into a rounded circle from the start. 
 
 The variants on the brackets are naturally harder to do. 
 There is first the change bracket which can start on either 
 an outer or inner edge. Forward skate a half lobe, change 
 the edge, do a bracket, and trace back to the change. Step 
 onto a back edge, change, back bracket, and finish. The 
 great difficulty in this figure is to make all three lobes the 
 same size, and to have the brackets facing each other at the 
 tops of their respective lobes. Finally, as I said before, there 
 is the bracket change bracket figure, which, starting on the 
 outside back edge, is the most difficult to do with comfort 
 and precision. This is a two-lobe figure done on the same 
 foot and may be started either forward or backward. Re- 
 member when doing this that your start must be firm yet 
 controlled, and that from the first bracket turn you must 
 draw the free leg, raising and bending the skating knee 
 to insure you the most speed possible. Be careful not to 
 flatten the changes on this figure, and, as you change, force 
 your weight in the direction of the next lobe so that each 
 circle will be full and rounded. 
 
 This is the end of my suggestions on school figures. I 
 
 159 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 sincerely hope that you will come to enjoy doing them as 
 much as I do. I suppose it is only natural that I should feel 
 strongly about the figures, since so many hours of my life 
 have been spent practicing them. I have never, and I hope 
 you’ll feel the same way, regretted any time spent on them, 
 for I have been amply repaid in the control I can assume 
 in my free skating. This control, I assure you, has come 
 not so much from practicing my free skating as from rigid 
 practice of the schools. If you have already mastered them, 
 I am sure you are going on to the more advanced free skat- 
 ing, and I shall now add a few pointers on the more difficult 
 requirements in the free skating field. 
 
 ADVANCED FREE SKATING 
 
 Advanced free skating is grand fun. Apart from what 
 I can set down here, there is a great deal that depends on 
 your own native ingenuity. The most successful free 
 skaters are the ones who originate moves themselves. This 
 is not nearly so hard as it would first seem. It is merely 
 taking standard moves and combining them in new and 
 different patterns. This is especially true in the dances 
 which form the backbone of your program. A well-known 
 dance with an extra three turn, short quick step, or surprise 
 stop placed unexpectedly in the middle of it will give an 
 entirely new and often delightful aspect to a stereotyped 
 move. The inclusion of your school figure turns, done in 
 a free manner and in time to music, is an essential in every 
 program. Counters, rockers, brackets, and threes are the 
 basis of nearly all the dance steps you will ever use. The 
 combinations of these figures done in different rhythms are 
 a never-ending source of pleasure to every skater, young 
 and old alike. 
 
 160 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 Jumps 
 
 Jumps and spins are the highlights in every free skating 
 program. The simple jumps I told about in the last chapter 
 have by this time given you the idea of how to leave the 
 ice. Let us go on now to the more difficult ones and start 
 with the toe-rocker jump. The toe-rocker is most effective 
 in that a great deal of ice is covered not only in the jump 
 itself but also in the preparation and the finish. It is shown 
 to best advantage when done across the width of the rink. 
 The jump is from a back outside edge to a forward outside 
 edge, as a rocker turn, but utilizing the toe-point of the 
 free foot to accomplish the turn itself. There must be a 
 bending and straightening of the skating knee, and a feel- 
 ing of rhythm must be instilled into the move. The most 
 effective method is to have the free foot in front and to 
 swing it back for the jump as the skating knee straightens. 
 
 Start with enough speed to carry you on a fast back out- 
 side right spiral. The best preparation is a one, two, three, 
 sway; one, two, three, four, five, six, and hold six. This is 
 like the man’s part of the ten-step, which was explained 
 in Chapter 8. Cover a lot of ice on the preparatory steps 
 and really let your body sway on the fourth step. As you 
 hold the count of six, keep the free foot in front of you 
 and let the skating knee straighten. The free foot is held 
 in front only momentarily, however, as with the straighten- 
 ing of the skating knee it swings back in complete rhythm 
 with the stiffening of the skating leg. With the swing of 
 the free foot let the shoulders twist to the left. The peak 
 of the swing coincides with the maximum straightening of 
 the skating knee. Your shoulders force you to turn, and the 
 swing of the free leg will help your skating foot to leave 
 the ice so that you can jump from a back position to a 
 
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 forward one. In the air, twist the shoulders back and at the 
 same time drop the left toe-point on the ice and step off 
 onto a forward outside right spiral position, with the left 
 shoulder in the lead and the right well back. As you push 
 off with the point onto the right edge, be certain that the 
 left leg goes into an unwavering outside spiral position. At 
 first you may have trouble coordinating the swing and 
 jump, but with a little practice this should soon be over- 
 come. 
 
 The best method is to try this jump to music. Give the 
 same count to the step six, the sway, the jump, and the 
 push-off, and the rhythm will soon be yours. With practice 
 you can finally get to bending and straightening your skat- 
 ing knee and really letting your free foot swing carry your 
 weight in the direction of travel, so that a fair amount of 
 ice is covered on the actual jump. My admonition is not to 
 swing back too violently when learning this jump. That 
 might throw your balance off, and then you would not be 
 able to jump from the ice at all. A toe-rocker jump 
 properly done can personify all the grace and rhythm that 
 must be the keynote of your free skating program. Music 
 combined with speed will aid your jumps more than any- 
 thing else. 
 
 Going on, we next come to the Salchow jump. This 
 jump, while not really difficult, can be made most effective 
 by striving for height rather than distance. It is done from 
 the finish of a forward outside three, and the most im- 
 portant thing to remember is that the take-off is from 
 the middle of the blade, not the toe. The jump is from an 
 inside back edge, with an almost full turn in the air to 
 a back outside edge. I say almost full turn because, while 
 the pattern on the ice shows a full turn, the shoulders have 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 already rotated a bit before the skate actually leaves the ice. 
 
 Stroke off into a large outside forward left three. As the 
 turn is done, let the free foot begin to swing forward on 
 a wide arc around you and at the same time allow the 
 shoulders to rotate to the left. The skating shoulder is 
 held low, and the free shoulder rises as the free leg swings 
 around. At the peak of the shoulder twist, spring from 
 the ice, letting the arc of the right leg carry your weight 
 up and around so that you will land on a back outside 
 right edge. As you land, the right shoulder is pressed well 
 back, with the left shoulder and arm checking your rota- 
 tion in front of you. The left leg and hip must be well 
 turned out at the point of landing. The left leg will be 
 swinging back of the skating leg and into a back outside 
 edge position. I reiterate once more — be careful to spring 
 from the ice from a firm back inside edge. If you allowed 
 your weight to go up on the toe, a good part of the turn 
 would be done on the ice, making the jump not only in- 
 correct but also very ineffective. 
 
 A variant on the above is called a flip jump. This is 
 done by placing the right toe-point in the ice and jumping 
 from the right toe-point to the right back outside edge 
 at the finish of a left three. In this case, the left foot swings 
 around, but on a close arc to the right, and you land as in a 
 Salchow. 
 
 The loop jump, so called because there is a complete 
 loop turn in the air, is done from a back outside edge to a 
 back outside edge. This can be done either from a ten-step 
 or a drop three start. I think at first it is advisable to use 
 the ten-step beginning, since it will give you a more natural 
 twist to the body. 
 
 On the count of six hold the back outside right edge and 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 keep the free foot in front of you. Your spring for this 
 jump must feel as though it were coming from the ball 
 of your skating foot. Remember that the more you can 
 comfortably "sit” on a well-bent skating knee, the more 
 natural a spring you will have to leave the ice with. 
 
 There is in this jump, as in all others, a natural rhythm 
 and coordination of shoulders and skating knee that is es- 
 sential if you are to get any height from your efforts. Try 
 doing each move of the jump in the same rhythm you use 
 for the preparatory steps. If you count to yourself in the 
 following manner, it may prove most helpful to you. One- 
 two- three-four-five-six; at the count of six, say to your- 
 self: and-jump, and-land, thus giving equal time value to 
 the count of six (your take-off) , the time in the air, and 
 the landing. 
 
 On the count of six let your torso twist from the waist 
 up so that the left shoulder is pressed well back and the right 
 shoulder is almost on a line with your print. Your free foot 
 is still in front, and the skating knee is reaching its maxi- 
 mum amount of bend. Now spring from the ice and at 
 the same time twist your shoulders and body around so that 
 they make the turn in the air for you. The left leg will 
 swing around the right, and, as you are landing, must 
 be swung past the right to enable you to land in a back 
 outside edge position. Keep your head looking over the left 
 shoulder, for this will help your body rotation in the air. 
 Remember to land on a well-bent knee. This not only 
 softens the jump but creates the illusion of greater height. 
 
 Once you get the feel of the jump, try to do it going 
 really fast. If you spring hard enough from the ice, your 
 speed will carry you quite some distance and the jump itself 
 will be most spectacular. 
 
 164 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 The split jump is to my way of thinking a jump solely 
 for girls. Some men do this in their free skating, but, to 
 me at least, they create nothing but an angular, gauche 
 effect which is not in keeping with good masculine appear- 
 ance on ice. There is, however, no other jump a girl can do 
 that gives such a pleasing impression. The line of the body 
 combined with speed, height, and grace can’t be touched 
 in any other jump in the figure skating repertory. 
 
 The jump itself incorporates the use of the toe-points 
 and basically is very easy. As the name implies, there is a 
 split position used while doing the turn in the air, and this, 
 of course, is the trick to the whole thing. First of all, the 
 nearer a complete split position you can make your legs 
 come to, the better the jump will be, and, second, there 
 must be enough spring from the ice to enable your legs to 
 be placed in a split position. The bend and rise of the skat- 
 ing knee is extremely important, since only your spring 
 can help you to achieve finally the perfect result. The rota- 
 tion of the turn in the air is the same as a counter: you 
 leave the ice from an outer back edge and finally finish on 
 an inner forward edge. 
 
 From a fast back outside right spiral position, bend the 
 skating knee and reach back in the direction of travel with 
 the free leg. As you are going to make the jump in a 
 counter rotation, you must let your head look over the right 
 shoulder and to the inside of the print. The right shoulder 
 is well back, with the left shoulder forward. As you reach 
 the maximum point of your knee-bend, press the toe-point 
 of the left skate firmly into the ice and spring in the air. 
 The shoulders will twist so that your body can easily do 
 the half turn required, but as you spring and turn in the 
 air, the left leg must be thrust well back, with the right 
 
 165 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 leg well in front of you, for you to achieve a momentary 
 split position. You land on the right toe-point and push 
 off onto a left inside forward spiral. 
 
 The secret of this jump is in the successful timing of 
 the split position to coordinate with the spring from the ice 
 and the turning of the shoulders and arms. Be careful that 
 even during the jump itself your arms and hands are only 
 under control. Nothing spoils this jump more completely 
 than flinging the arms about as the split position is reached, 
 so do try to watch this point. 
 
 The Lutz jump is similar in rotation to the split, but 
 there the similarity ends. This jump involves no split posi- 
 tion. Its distinguishing element is an extra half turn in the 
 air that causes you to land on a back outside edge on the 
 other foot from the take-off, thus reversing your line of 
 travel. The faster you do this jump, the easier it will be 
 for you to get around the turn in the air. Even when learn- 
 ing, do not be timid, for, as I’ve already said, there is far 
 more danger in attempting the jumps slowly than at high 
 speed. 
 
 The start for the Lutz jump is from a fast back outside 
 spiral on the right foot. The preparation for the jump 
 must be fast. This is essential, because you can spring from 
 the ice only when your skating knee is bent to its lowest 
 point, and, if you hold your maximum knee-bend any 
 length of time, the motivating spring from the skating 
 knee is lost, and the jump either will be very mediocre or 
 else will not come off at all. 
 
 The take-off spiral must be done on a keen back edge 
 and not a straight line. Now, from the back spiral position 
 reach well back with the left leg and at the same time 
 bend the skating knee fully. If you reach back far enough 
 
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The Back Toe Jump 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 behind you, your left toe-point will dig into the ice as you 
 spring from the right skate. With the spring, straighten 
 the left knee and push straight up from the ice. Let the 
 right leg swing up and around the left, for when you land 
 on the back outside left edge the right leg must be behind 
 you in a back outside edge position. If, from the moment 
 of take-off, you let your head look over your right shoulder 
 in the direction of your turn, it will help your body to 
 rotate more easily. Check your shoulders on landing, so 
 that the right is slightly in front of the left. Try and keep 
 your feet close together in the air and don’t bend over for- 
 ward, but have the back well arched. Check any wild fling- 
 ing about of the arms. No matter how high you jump or 
 how fast, two thirds of the effect is lost by an ungainly 
 position either before, during, or after the jump. 
 
 Properly executed and well spotted in a free skating 
 program, the Axel Paulsen jump should be one of the most 
 outstanding highlights you can acquire. The jump calls 
 for one and a half turns in the air done from a forward 
 outside edge on one foot to back outside edge on the other. 
 There are several different methods of doing this jump, 
 but the principle in each case is the same. The one thing 
 to strive for is height in the air during the actual turn, for 
 it is height alone that makes this jump spectacular. 
 
 The preparation for the Axel Paulsen comes from a sharp 
 back inside right edge. This inside edge is a cut-back from 
 a back outside right. Stroke onto a back outside right edge 
 and let the left foot cut behind the right, changing the right 
 back outer to a right back inner. The left shoulder is held 
 low, with the left foot behind the right and across the 
 print of the right back inner. Straighten the right knee 
 and step onto a short, sharp forward outside left edge. The 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 left shoulder, in this case, is held higher than the unem- 
 ployed one, and the edge is held only long enough to enable 
 the right leg to swing up and past the skating foot. As 
 the right leg swings past, the skating knee straightens, and 
 you spring up from the ice, letting your weight follow 
 the direction of the swing of the right leg. The shoulders 
 rotate sharply to the right, and your left leg is drawn up 
 and around you. You feel your body spin in the air, and, 
 as you land on a back outside right, the left shoulder must 
 be well in front, with the skating shoulder pressed back to 
 check the natural rotation and allow you to hold the right 
 back outside edge. The left foot must swing around the 
 right enough to be behind the right and up from the ice 
 at the point of landing. Bend the skating knee on landing, 
 as this not only will soften the finish to the jump but will 
 aid you in checking the rotation of the shoulders. Through- 
 out the jump the back must be arched. 
 
 Spins 
 
 There is no royal road to spinning on ice. Nothing but 
 practice will make a good spinner. The main thing to get 
 firmly implanted in your mind is that a spin is done in one 
 spot, and so you must overcome your first tendency to 
 "travel.” I can tell you how to go about doing a spin and 
 what not to do, but from then on it’s up to you. 
 
 A single flat-foot spin is done on the flat of the skate, 
 and your balance is directly over the ball of the skating 
 foot. Start as if doing a forward outside three, with a well- 
 bent skating knee. As you come to the turn, straighten 
 the skating knee and at the same time let the free leg swing 
 in a wide arc around you. The free knee is now bent and 
 the free foot held close to the skating knee. Your shoulders 
 
 168 
 
The Cross-Foot Spin 
 
 The Same Spin — Back View 
 
 ‘ 1 
 
For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 must be both on the same level, and your head looking 
 straight forward. Once you begin turning, the skating 
 knee must be absolutely rigid. If you bend the skating 
 knee in the slightest, your balance begins to waver and 
 you "fall out” of the spin. It is a bent spinning knee which 
 causes travel. If you find spinning on the left foot easier, 
 your entire left side from the foot to the shoulder must be 
 rigid, for it is around this pivot of the body that your 
 weight will travel. Your arms are held out from the 
 shoulders and gradually pulled in across the body just above 
 the waistline. This will increase your speed. For a final 
 touch of speed, when the arms are pulled in close to the 
 body, bring the free leg down alongside the skating leg to 
 the skating ankle. Do this slowly; otherwise your balance 
 will be thrown off. A single-toe spin, or scratch spin, is 
 done in the above fashion, except that the weight is on the 
 first toe-point of the skate, and you make small circles on 
 the ice surface. 
 
 The cross-foot spin is done on two feet, with the legs 
 crossed in front. When learning this, it is well to start 
 with the double flat-foot spin described in Chapter 8. Once 
 your weight is over the balls of both feet, give an added 
 twist to the shoulders and at the same time cross your feet, 
 thus spinning. Your weight, if spinning to the left, is actu- 
 ally more on the left foot than the right. Once you get 
 the feel, you can go into a cross-foot from a single flat-foot 
 spin, but it takes skill and correct timing, which can come 
 only after much practice. 
 
 A Jackson Haines, or "sit” spin, is started in the same 
 manner as a single flat-foot. As you start the spin itself, 
 bend the skating knee until you are in a low sitting posi- 
 tion. The free leg swings out and around you and is held 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 in front, with the free hip, knee, and foot turned well out. 
 As you are spinning, you straighten up your body and finish 
 erect, with either a single flat-foot or scratch. 
 
 You now have quite a few moves in your free skating 
 bag of tricks. With them all I hope you have paid attention 
 to your form, so that at all times your hands, arms, and 
 free leg are correctly held. Also that you arch your back 
 and hold your head erect. The most effective way of check- 
 ing up is, as I’ve said before, to practice your positions in 
 front of a mirror. Precision in skating can come only with 
 practice. 
 
 From the very first, try to free skate to music whenever 
 possible. Not only your dance steps but your jumps as well. 
 If you can time your jumps to music so that you hold a 
 beat of music in the air, you not only will mark the jump 
 in your audience’s eyes, but will give an impression of 
 hanging suspended longer than you actually do. Moving 
 to music will really simplify all your free skating moves 
 and certainly make them look one hundred per cent more 
 impressive. 
 
 Creating a Free Skating Program 
 
 The creation of a free skating program is a fascinating 
 undertaking. The moves you choose or discard are up to 
 you, for you alone know your capabilities. Your first step 
 is to pick out some piece of music that you like and that 
 also suits your style of skating. Once your music is chosen, 
 it’s all plain sailing from then on. 
 
 The length of program depends largely on whether it 
 is for exhibition or competition. If you are to skate in a 
 carnival or at a club exhibition, you must have a short, 
 snappy number, not over two and a half minutes in length. 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 You will naturally prepare an encore in case of need. Keep 
 the time element in mind. To my mind nothing is more 
 boring than to have an exhibition program go on and on. 
 In competition the program must meet the general rules 
 laid down by the competitive committee. For a novice 
 championship, the free skating must be two and one half 
 minutes; for the junior competition, the free skating is 
 three and a half minutes; and for a senior competition a 
 woman must skate four minutes and a man five. 
 
 Your prime thought must be the pattern of your pro- 
 gram. This is vitally important. Regardless of how well 
 you jump, how fast you spin, or how intricate are your 
 dances, you must present them so that both judges and 
 audience alike will see each one of your specialties placed 
 to the best advantage. You must have a strong opening to 
 catch the watcher’s eye and an even stronger finish. When 
 planning the program, you therefore design it to close 
 with the strongest trick you can do when slightly tired, 
 and to open with one of the difficult tricks you think you 
 do best when rested. Bear in mind also that there must 
 be highlights to distinguish your program between the start 
 and the finish, and that the use of dance steps and spirals 
 is as important as all the jumps and spins. A program 
 consisting only of the latter is dull. Mix up the contents 
 well, using the dances and spirals as joining figures between 
 the more difficult moves. Your jumps and spins should 
 be done in center ice or at either end of the rink, while the 
 dance steps and spirals cover the entire ice surface. Try 
 to vary the direction of the dances themselves so that your 
 program won’t give the impression of moving constantly in 
 one direction. 
 
 With these pointers, the rest is up to yourself. Remem- 
 
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For Enthusiasts Only 
 
 her, though, that you can’t achieve any marked brilliance 
 in free skating unless you have original moves inserted in 
 the program. The more distinct and different your pattern 
 is, the more effective the whole will be. 
 
 172 
 
CHAPTER TEN 
 
 Up the L adder 
 
 IN THE SKATING WORLD IT IS THE AMBITION OF EACH 
 person to pass, someday, the gold medal test. This is the 
 ultimate in figure skating. It signifies that mastery of each 
 branch of the sport has been attained. Like all other 
 bright and shining goals, it may be reached only over a 
 long and difficult path. 
 
 There are eight tests in all, conducted under jurisdiction 
 of the United States Amateur Figure Skating Association. 
 A person must pass the first three before he is eligible to 
 enter even the most elemental national competition, the 
 novice class championship. The tests themselves cover 
 every figure in the manual and free skating as well. 
 
 No one is allowed to try an advanced test without first 
 having passed the tests leading up to it. This means starting 
 at the bottom of the ladder and working up. Furthermore, 
 no skater may take the tests unless he is a member of an 
 accredited club or a member of the association itself. 
 
 Tests may be taken at various times during the season. 
 They are conducted on the club rinks and are judged by 
 persons appointed by the association. 
 
 173 
 
Up the Ladder 
 
 The length of time required to pass the entire eight 
 tests depends solely on the skater. You should be able to 
 pass the first three tests in your first season. After that, 
 the other tests can follow only as you improve your school 
 figures. Speed of improvement depends on both natural 
 ability and temperament. Patience is invaluable. If you 
 have an impatient nature, I am afraid your road up will 
 seem harder and longer than most, for there are hours 
 and hours of practice to be put in before you can begin 
 to near perfection. 
 
 With the attempt to pass the tests, the desire usually 
 rises to pit your skill against others, in competition. Every 
 club holds a club championship annually, and you should 
 enter one of these first. Once before the judges, you are 
 completely on your own, and here is where your practice 
 shows up. You will undoubtedly be nervous in your first 
 competition, but if you know your stuff that feeling will 
 soon fade away and the contest will be fun. There are sec- 
 tional championships as well as club and national ones. 
 
 Unlike races, in which the objective is to beat someone 
 to the goal and which may be fast or slow, figure skating 
 is a sport in which you compete against a fixed standard. 
 You have rivals, but they and you are measured against 
 the standard, and thus only indirectly against each other. 
 This is what places the burden of the competition squarely 
 on your shoulders. You must be able to impress the judges 
 that you are master of the figures required of you, and 
 you can create this impression only if you have devoted 
 enough time to practice. 
 
 The national championships, all classes included in the 
 one schedule, are held each year at a different club selected 
 by the association. If you are eligible to enter, your own 
 
 174 
 
Up the Ladder 
 
 club will send you and pay all your expenses. These con- 
 tests are very interesting in that you not only meet skaters 
 from all parts of the country but also discover for yourself 
 what standards of skating are required of you in rising 
 from class to class. Once you have won the novice cham- 
 pionship, you must go on to the junior, and once you 
 have won the junior, you automatically progress into the 
 senior division. You are at liberty to win the senior cham- 
 pionship as many times as you are able. 
 
 There are no age limits in these contests. There have 
 been some wonderful examples in the United States of the 
 junior championship being won by a person well over sixty, 
 while the senior was being won by someone eighteen. 
 
 Training for such a competition is really simple, once 
 you have adjusted yourself to a five-hour day of practice. 
 The prime requisite is to get a lot of sleep while practicing 
 and to live with common sense and moderation in every- 
 thing. The less you smoke or drink during the training 
 time, the better conditioned your legs will be. Just before 
 an actual competition it is well to taper off on the long 
 hours of practice, and to skate only for a short while the 
 day before you are to compete. 
 
 If you should arrive at the place where the competition 
 is being held a few days in advance, don’t let the apparent 
 skill of the other competitors get you down. They are 
 only trying to impress you. A person may be able to do 
 wonderful jumps or spins in practice, but it is a different 
 story altogether when he has to do this same move during a 
 four-minute program. Go right on with your own practice 
 and pay no attention to the others. This point applies from 
 the minute you step out to practice through the end of 
 the competition. 
 
 175 
 
Up the Ladder 
 
 I would like to add a further "don’t” here. All contests 
 now are run on the open marking system used in diving. 
 Points are announced. Don’t listen to the marks the other 
 competitors receive, and don’t listen to your own. Many 
 a person has lost confidence and been licked because some 
 rival was given a much higher mark on the first figure. 
 The contest is over only with the free skating, and if you 
 should start off badly you have lots of time to catch up. 
 Don’t let yourself ever get depressed in a competition, for 
 remember that this is a sport and if you don’t win this 
 contest there is always another one. 
 
 The judges will first look at the tracing of the figure on 
 the ice. They check on whether the turns are correct 
 and without flats or changes in them. Next they examine 
 the tracing in perspective to see if it is correct in size 
 and if both lobes are equal in shape. The relative position 
 of the turns is carefully noted. In this matter you have a 
 special chance to rise high in the judges’ estimation. If you 
 make a mistake on the first print, don’t try to retrace an 
 obvious error, but show the judges that you can do the 
 figure properly and place your second print in the correct 
 position. 
 
 The carriage of the body and triple repetition are of next 
 importance. However, never forget that it is more essential 
 to do a correct turn three times and not come as close as 
 you might desire in retracing the original figure than it 
 is to retrace accurately an incorrectly done first print. 
 
 An assured manner when first stepping on the ice be- 
 fore the judges is a great help. By this I don’t mean to 
 smile or smirk at either the judges or the gallery. What I 
 do mean is to seem businesslike and confident. The shaking 
 of the head and a worried look, if you don’t pull off the 
 
 176 
 
Up the Ladder 
 
 figure to your own satisfaction, will only emphasize to any 
 judge that the figure is bad and will not induce him to 
 raise his mark. Quite the contrary, it may serve to irritate 
 him and thus unconsciously affect his future estimates of 
 your work. The opposite is also true. Don’t grin like mad 
 if you feel that your figure has been particularly good. Let 
 the judge see and decide for himself. The manner you 
 assume before the judges may make all the difference in the 
 final outcome of your place in the competition. 
 
 These last few pointers all boil down to one thing: While 
 there must be showmanship before the judges in your school 
 figures, it must be of a quiet order. Later on, when you 
 come out to do your free skating, you can really let yourself 
 go, smiling and obviously having a good time while present- 
 ing your program. If you can look happy enough on the 
 ice, or, better still, if you can feel happy enough, you will 
 undoubtedly win over the audience and the judges as well. 
 
 This leads me to say that it should be natural for you to 
 feel happy skating, for in this sport there is a complete 
 coordination of mind and body that is very satisfying. 
 
 As an added incentive to your skating it is well to try 
 to keep up with modern and classical dancing. Through 
 this medium you come to realize how the body moves in 
 relation to music. It doesn’t matter basically whether the 
 dancing you see is in musical comedy, ballet, or motion 
 pictures. Become imbued with an innate feeling for 
 rhythmic movement through watching others, and the 
 chances are that you will be able to communicate this 
 feeling to your ice skating. If you can eventually arrive 
 at this, I personally shall be more than pleased, for possibly 
 a part of my mission will have been accomplished. Good- 
 bye, good luck, and happy skating! 
 
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