It was, at the time, a novel idea. That is, to start a ski school. But who would come? Few people skied back in 1948 and fewer, still, skied well enough to tell others how.
Alf Engen had an idea, though, and a wish. His idea was to have a big school, for free, where he would help people learn to ski. It was, he felt, a way to give back just a little of what he'd gotten from skiing.This was, 47 years ago, the very beginning of the Deseret News Ski School. Who could have ever imagined?
Looking for gentle slopes and easy access, Engen took the first session of the ski school to the snow-covered fairways at Bonneville Golf Course. Not certain at all what to expect, people were invited, for free, to come to a ski class.
Among those helping Engen were his brother, Sverre, and Jack Reddish. All three, at the time, were world-class skiers. What happened left them completely overwhelmed. Instead of the few hundred students they anticipated, more than 1,800 turned out. It was, for a time, "crazy," recalled Engen.
People were anxious to learn. And it was evident early on that some instruction was vital. Students came to the golf course with anything and everything that resembled ski equipment. Some had barrel staves tied to their feet, others had rubber galoshes packed with newspaper in the toe to make them fit. Young skiers came with giant skis, and big skiers came with little skis. Many even showed up with mis-matched skis.
"Everyone learned something that day. We managed to get to everyone. But we learned something: People wanted to learn to ski," he added.
"We did a lot of lifting that day. People fell and couldn't get up, so we'd lift them up. Oh, I got so tired. We lifted people up off the snow until we couldn't lift anymore. When the session was over we knew we had to do something."
First, they introduced a class devoted to falling and getting up. Skiers were told to go with the fall and make it a roll or slide. They learned the steeper the slopes the less chance of injury. As a footnote they were told that if they couldn't get up, "don't be too proud to call for help." . . . And they did.
Later, Engen got the idea to put students on a grassy slope for the first lesson.
And, he recalled, "Did that make a difference. It was so much easier to walk around and get up. Then, when they got on snow, they were experts."
In the early years, the Deseret News ski program became a traveling school. Engen and his band of instructors went anywhere there was an interest in learning. Later they settled on a mix between Sugarhouse Park and Alta.
During the traveling days, Engen's instructors came from a pool of friends and students. He remembers, with some humor, that they were willing to donate their time to teaching, if he would pick up dinner after class. He made the meal money, he recalled, "By (ski) jumping. I would make a little money competing and buy everyone dinner. That was the deal."
In his early search for qualified teachers, he hit upon the idea of cooperative agreement with the University of Utah. In the early 1960s, when he was coach of the U. of U. women's ski team, he agreed to bring his band of experienced ski teachers to teach university instructors if the school would, in turn, come help with the Deseret News program. Today, the bulk of the ski teachers for the ski school come from the U.
He remembered that in the early days of the school people displayed more curiosity than knowledge about skiing. Some had no idea at all what skiing was. Some had never seen skis before.
No one knows for sure just how many people can credit their first ski turns to the Deseret News Ski School. Thousands have been students.
Today, third-generation students are showing up for class and introducing themselves to Engen and asking him to remember their grandparents when they took the school.
"Looking back," he admits, "I had no idea skiing would become so popular. I hoped that someday it would, but I didn't think it would come this fast."
For 47 years, now, Engen has been giving his time and skills to students in the Deseret News ski program. In 47 years, he hasn't missed a class, or the opportunity to pass on to others, the seed to a lifetime of skiing.