I wish I had a pic of the little ice rink across the street from my family’s shabby little bungalow on Superior Street in Sault Ste. Siberia when I was a child. It was a basketball court for the most part but in the winter, the city or school district or whoever turned it into an ice rink. My parents definitely bought me figure skates so I could hang out over there. I learned a few eensy weensy tricks on my skates but mainly I raced across the ice and crashed into the big snowbanks that ringed the rink, laughing uproariously and flipping onto my back to gaze at the star-studded winter sky. Thinking about it a bit, for a few years, a hockey dad lived next door to us and he made an ice rink between our houses. So two ice rinks next door to my house.

I wanted to learn to skate with the “pretty” girls who took lessons at the Pullar Stadium, where the Red Wings used to practice when I was a kid. My mom did not let me do that. The reasons were complicated but I think she didn’t feel like she fit in with that particular mom crowd, even big city (Detroit) girl that she was.

I always envied my figure skater friends but in the end, skiing was more my thing. My parents always supported that sport for me and my brother and all of our cousins skied.

In the end, The Commander came out ahead in life, so to speak. After a number of years of being a stay-at-home mom for me and my little brother, she eased herself into teaching, then got a masters degree and taught high school a number of years. In her later years, she became a revered elder in the community. I am so proud of her.

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