It’s that special time of year again. Ice skating season.
And although I know that many of you are enjoying the sunshine far away from the chilly reach of Old Man Winter, I’d like you to take a moment and remember when…
When I was twelve, Friday winter nights and Sunday afternoons meant only one thing.
Ice-skating at the outdoor rink at the Wilmette Village Green.
This set up, now long-gone, was a simple rink with a warming facility attached. Inside you could rent skates or drink hot chocolate adrift with little marshmallows as was your want.
(On a chilly day, nothing ever tasted better. Before or since.)
I didn’t have to rent skates. As memory serves, mine were a second-hand pair handed down to me from my glamorous, older sophisticated “courtesy” cousin, Suzie Petacque.
They were white, of course. And they had blue and white yarn pom poms under the laces on the toes.
My skating ensemble also included a very short brown velveteen skating skirt, a white sweater, a scarf, gloves*** and a white beret-like hat. I thought I looked adorable.
***My gloves, albeit stylish, were not WARM, sadly. One very cold outing, I chilled them so badly, that to this day, I can’t be in the slightest cold weather for five minutes before my hands start burning.
I needed to look my best because Friday night was “boy/girl” night at the rink. For us socially-awkward Avoca seventh graders, this meant a chance to actually make contact with the opposite sex.
If you were lucky, some boy on whom you had an unrequited crush, would ask you to skate and do the circuit with you- holding your gloved hand.
All to the lilting strains of music like this.
For a few magical minutes, you and your junior high Romeo were transported to wonderful place- filled with ice castles and hints of the glorious, romantic things-to-come.
(On Sunday afternoons, most of the boys reverted back to their usual adolescent high jinks like “crack the whip” and showing off their hockey stops. Not quite as enchanting.)
But warm memories of gliding around à deux with Jeff Garrett (before he abandoned me for Shellie Piller, and later Kathy Vail) still come back to me whenever the weather turns frosty.
Sigh. Still sounds pretty good to me.
Tomorrow is Friday.
Now, where did I put those skates?
Can’t believe there is no post from Bernie. Must be because there were no ice rinks at South Shore. In Glencoe we had 3. One near North School, one near Watts Field House, then the new one at Central School. Boys used either hockey or speed skates. And yes the hot chocolate was the best.
Thanks, Mitch. And have patience. Bernie hasn’t read it yet. But so glad you brought us up to speed(skating) on the great rink situation in Glencoe. ⛸
Every school yard in South Shore was frozen over for ice skating.
Next question….?
Whew! I was getting worried there for a second, Bernie. But I knew you’d rise to the challenge! ⛸
Joan Arenberg says: Dear Ellen, I know that it is/was “The Blue Danube” that got to me today. Every time that I went skating at Ravinia School in Highland Park that melody played over and over. I know that I went to skate, to see friends, to have a lovely afternoon on the ice and maybe, to hear some different tunes. But to no avail. It was “The Blue Danube” over and over. And I also always wore white figure skates, just like you did. (Sadly, no pom pons.) So whenever I think of those long gone days, “The Blue Danube” twirls in my memory. Love, Joan
Thanks for being such a good skate, Joan. Sorry about those pesky technical difficulties. This was, indeed, a lovely comment and even the Russian judges give you a 10! Thank you.
I grew up in east Rogers Park. There was a skating pond on Touhy directly by the lake. I have fond memories of my mother and father taking me there to have an hour of fun. Even thought it was freezing being there with my parents made it special.
Thanks for chiming in here today, Sandy. A warm memory on a very cold day. 😀⛸