Frozen in Time. Nikki Nichols
Ice Palace, he had produced his first Olympic gold medalist in Hayes Alan Jenkins. Four years later, Hayes’s little brother, David, won a gold medal, too. Scholdan’s formula for success seemed to be working. Skaters from around the country were eager to study with him and his other talented colleagues. Edi and the beautiful rink where he was head coach made a fateful impression on a well-to-do family from Kansas City.
Edi Scholdan was one of the nation’s best coaches, having molded two Olympic champions. He was Steffi Westerfeld’s coach in 1961.
Lured by the beauty of Colorado Springs, Otto and Myra Westerfeld took their two daughters to the mountain retreat for a summer respite. During the Westerfeld family vacation to the Broadmoor, Steffi’s older sister Sharon, called Sherri, was first exposed to skating, and the love was instant. The family returned to Kansas City, where Sherri was eager to visit a local ice rink, the Pla-Mor.
In the early fifties, the Pla-Mor was one of only a handful of indoor ice rinks in the country. In the winter, it was filled with skaters in the height of their competitive seasons, and in the summer months, it was converted into an indoor swimming pool.
Jane Bucher Jones was one of the competitive skaters in training at the Pla-Mor rink. Bucher Jones practiced her school figures with meticulous attention to detail, working hours on end to perfect the art. One day while practicing, she noticed a little girl copying her moves—with astonishing precision.
“If you’ve ever seen children skate, those who have good ankles are natural, in the sense that they don’t have to overcome the weakness. I don’t know whether she had ‘dance’ or not, but she just had that natural ability.”
That little girl was Sherri Westerfeld. Sherri had the ankles—and the daring—that allowed her to try skating tricks, even though she had never had lessons before in her life.
Bucher Jones recalled, “I would do a spin and Sherri would do a spin, or three turns, and stuff like that.”
Bucher Jones decided in her own mind that Sherri had star quality and something needed to be done about it.
“I approached Sherri’s mother, Myra,” Bucher Jones recalled, “and I told her Sherri had so much natural talent.”
Myra immediately enrolled Sherri in skating lessons, and took an active role in Sherri’s development as a skater, even though she had never been a competitive skater herself. It was simply Myra’s protective nature to stay at her daughters’ sides at all times.
She doted on the girls. She had lost a son in infancy, and gave birth to Sherri at age thirty-one, and Steffi at age thirty-nine.
As Sherri blossomed into a talented world-class competitor, Steffi watched as her big sister would soar through the air, spin, and earn praise and attention. Steffi would receive attention as the cute little girl at the rink, so fond of the concession-stand popcorn that she came to be known as “Popcorn.” With her curly locks, she at some moments resembled another gifted child—Shirley Temple.
Steffi wanted to do more than just wait on the sidelines. At four years old, she asked her mom if she could skate, too. Myra agreed, and Steffi laced up and began taking lessons. In her very first competition, she finished dead last out of eighteen skaters, and declared she “hated” skating. She eventually recaptured her ambition and never finished in last place again.
Both Westerfeld girls were showing immense talent. They were easily the most talented competitive skaters in Kansas City, but the geography of their birth hindered their development in the sport. It was impossible to attract any famed coaches to Kansas City because the rink, only open in the fall and winter, could not pay a coach’s salary all year. Former U.S. Nationals competitor Bill Swallender coached there for only a few seasons because he needed full-time pay.
No one anticipated the elite qualities that would emerge in Sherri’s and Steffi’s skating. To maintain and improve upon these gifts, the girls would need to train in the summer months, too. The Westerfelds’ eyes turned back to the Broadmoor, a fertile ground for champions. The opportunity to train with a world-class coaching staff on a prestigious ice surface would factor heavily into whatever decision the family would make.
The finances were such that family patriarch, Otto Westerfeld, could afford to send Myra and the girls to Colorado Springs in the summer months. In 1949, they rented an apartment and stayed there during the summer. This pattern repeated itself the next summer, with Otto visiting frequently.
Sharon Westerfeld pins a test medal on Steffi.
Sherri’s skating blossomed, and her little sister was showing potential, too. Even though Steffi was only five years old, she was willing to try anything. You could sense a hunger in her childlike repetitions of her big sister’s moves. Steffi was soon enrolled in skating lessons, too.
With two children desperate to stay in skates all year, Myra and Otto were left with few options. Edi had a magical way of explaining things that made everything come together for Sherri, and it was not beneficial to have two different coaches in two different cities. Consistency in instruction is a key to success in any sport.
The Westerfeld family business was in Kansas City. Simply relocating and finding a new job was not an option. The decision was made to split the family—Otto would be the lone Westerfeld to remain in Kansas City, and the women would live in Colorado Springs full time, a unique arrangement for an American family in the early 1950s.
The Westerfeld women settled in quickly, and Sherri’s progress proved the permanent move was worth it. In 1955, an eighteen-year-old Sherri was a top contender for a medal at the U.S. National Championships. She was even “going steady” with Olympic bronze medalist Jimmy Grogan, the perennial runner-up to Dick Button at the U.S. Nationals. Life was full of possibilities for the blossoming young woman.
Throughout these years, Otto continued to visit. He sent weekly checks to cover the costs for skating, housing, and other expenses, never leaving Myra and the girls waiting for anything. The Westerfelds seemed like the picture of the American dream—happy, affluent, and with two youngsters well on the road to athletic fame. The only obvious ingredient missing from this formula was that Otto did not live under the same roof as his family. Myra was the leader of the household, and Otto was in many ways a part-time husband and a reliable funding source. Myra, as sole parent living in Colorado, spent all her days keeping vigil at the Ice Palace, watching every lesson, critiquing every move, and drilling important training reminders into the girls’ heads well into the night. Over time, Myra became completely wrapped up in the girls’ skating—everything from the jumping and figures technique, to the costumes she had custom-made for their competitions. While pushing her daughters to be more disciplined, she nonetheless was charming and funny, and most of the time, people loved to be around her. She endeared herself to people by calling them “sugar” and remembering every little detail about their lives, giving a sense that she really was a kind of rink mother to everyone.
Myra’s dreams were about to be realized in 1955, when Sherri reached the apex of her ability leading up to the U.S. Nationals. Sherri was a strong competitor in school figures, but often struggled in the free skating portion of the event. After a successful compulsory figures round that put a medal well within reach, she did not execute her free skate well, missing some key jumps and opening the door to other competitors.
She ended up placing in the dreaded position of fourth. Tenley Albright was the winner, Carol Heiss was second, and Catherine Machado took the bronze—the first time a Hispanic American had won a medal in American figure skating. All the years of sacrifice had left Sherri exhausted and wearing the unfortunate title of first alternate.
The top finishers did end up competing at Worlds, so Sherri’s alternate position provided no real reward. She quit competitive skating to attend Colorado College, where she planned to earn a degree in psychology. She was no longer interested in the rigors of competitive skating, and was content to watch her little sister