To the Editor:

Potsdam is a beautiful and peaceful place to be in the summer, but nothing beat the winter action back in the 1950s. In that long ago decade a kid had to make his own fun, as they say, and there were plenty of opportunities if you went looking for them—even during the brutal, endless North Country winters.

When I say winter, I mean the period that in Potsdam begins sometime in October and ends by May (if you are lucky). My father, a Clarkson professor, remembers it snowed at one Clarkson graduation in the ‘50s.

The main form of entertainment for kids back in the ‘50s was playing outside. (What a novel concept!) There was plenty of fresh, clean air around and by gosh our parents made sure we got our share of it. For our family the rule was that if the thermometer registered 32 degrees Fahrenheit or above, it was fair game, and my sister and I were expected to go outside for the day and occupy ourselves. (I do believe it is unlikely the kids of today would understand this concept and even more unlikely that they would appreciate it.)

The coldest months of the year just buzzed with activity. It was a magical time, because the beginning of the spring semester each year meant Clarkson‘s “Winter Carnival!” Winter Carnival was the event of the year in Potsdam and had been since the 1930s. The entire town was transported into a make-believe land that offered the most innocent form of escape for young and old alike. Each year a theme was chosen for the Carnival and then each fraternity house would take that over-arching theme and put its own spin on it. The results were absolutely unbelievable—and I mean just that!

The Carnival was highlighted by very detailed, extravagant ice statues -- layers and layers of ice built upon wooden frames over a period of time and then painted in bright colors. The statues were huge, awe-inspiring, and took up a frat’s entire front lawn.

Riding or walking around to see all the statues was an exciting event for the family back then, especially when they were lit up at night with spotlights. There was fierce competition and a winning ice statue was proclaimed at the end of the Carnival. One year I remember the winner was a Cinderella-themed coach drawn by six life-like horses. The coach door was open, and Cinderella and her Prince were leaning out together and waving. It had the exquisite, meticulous detail you’d expect from first-rate engineers.

Besides the statues (which took weeks to build depending upon weather conditions), the carnival included a glitzy skating show at the frigid old Clarkson arena featuring dazzling female student skaters (mostly from Potsdam State) dressed like Las Vegas show girls.

The dads in particular loved this skating spectacular. The ceremonies were capped by a lavish ball where the Ice Carnival King and Queen were crowned. Shortly after there was a parade in town to show off the reigning couple. These parades were always well-attended -- even in sub-zero weather.

As for other winter activities, there was some skiing in the area, but not much, as Potsdam is relatively flat due to its proximity to the St. Lawrence River plain. St. Lawrence University did have a smallish ski bowl in Colton near the infamous formerly winding road not too far from its base. Clarkson also had its own ski bowl. It was across from Diaper Hill (the Clarkson faculty housing on Riverside Drive) where the new (hill) campus is located. (The main campus was downtown back then.) It had a steep hill with a rope tow where you could ski and there was another area nearby reserved for sleds, toboggans, and the flying saucers that were all the rage. You could fly down the hill in a saucer that was bright orange plastic or one that was aluminum. I can still hear the peals of laughter that filled the air as we flew down the hill at lightning speed.

The old hockey arena -- unheated then -- was always full of activity, most of the winter activities revolving around hockey. Clarkson games always meant a packed house, and it was local celebrity Con Elliott from WPDM radio who was the play-by-play announcer. My own dad took tickets at the door to supplement the family income. The Clarkson team was on fire during the 1950s. In 1957 and 1958 Clarkson appeared in the NCAA Championship series. I had a small leather autograph book signed by all of the Clarkson hockey stars back then (courtesy of Dad), but regrettably I lost it over the years. I remember one signature — Eddie Rowe. He was one of the Clarkson superstars back then.

The old arena was open during the weekend for open skating and that’s where kids of all ages would meet and skate round and round to the organ music. The girls were usually outfitted in warm corduroy or wool pants with maybe tights underneath. Plaid pants were the rage then and so were angora head bands that tied under the chin. The elaborate versions had little angora balls dangling at the end of each tie. We would skate with our best friend -- hands linked by a rubber skate guard.

Suddenly the music would stop and the announcer would ask us to switch direction just to make things interesting. Eventually a voice would call for “Crack the Whip” and skaters would hold hands in a long line and keep twirling around until someone in the chain fell off and broke the chain. It continued until one skater was left in the broken chain, and that winner was announced to the cheering crowd. This was great fun for us kids and it was the highlight of the afternoon skate. We never got tired of it.

So without the help of electronics or winter trips to Florida (except for my lucky friend Kit Anderson who was the mayor’s daughter and went to Key Biscayne as I recall for a few weeks during the Christmas break), somehow we made it through the winter, making the best of it, and even having fun along the way.

Sandra Paige Sorell

Formerly of Potsdam