Sledding a Safer World

Written By Jonathan Krogh

Dear Winter Rushers:

The last few days of snow have reminded me of winter days over fifty years ago, racing on my Flexible Flyer from the top of the Field Club reservoir down into the gully below. In the summer it was the 10th tee of a private golf course; but in the winter, it was one of the best sledding hills in Omaha. Under the hill was a 25-million-gallon concrete container completed in 1954 by the Metropolitan Utilities District (MUD) to hold water from the Missouri and Platte Rivers. Founded in 1900 as the Omaha Cricket Association, the cricket club quickly transformed into a private golf course. By the early 1950s, memberships had declined, so the country club was all too willing to take $35,000 from MUD, who managed the 2.5-acre underground site, leaving the soil-covered top for golf. But when club members were in winter hibernation, kids took over the snowcapped mound.

Some of my best winter memories were made on that hill. I broke my right foot sledding there; my brother Mark broke his glasses and bloodied his nose trying to sled jump the creek at the bottom of the run. Most significantly, my brother Bruce broke his leg on the reservoir, not sledding but playing winter football. He required surgery, and the pin and screw in his leg helped with his medical deferment from the Vietnam draft. Not all injuries were tragic.

The Field Club now restricts sledding; membership is up, and they can afford to secure the area so that the groundskeepers no longer need to resod the sled runner ruts every spring. But memories abound.

In my snow-swirling recollections, the mind races to Chicago and the Swallow Cliff toboggan run in Palos Park. Much steeper and longer than my childhood sledding hill, I took my son Calvin there with some of his friends just a few years before Cook County closed the feature forever. I know why. After zipping down the chute, four seven-year-old boys were far too terrified to try it more than twice. The second run involved no injuries, but there were wide-eyed tears when I suggested a third try. In 2004 the Cook County Forest Preserve determined it would be far too expensive to create a low-liability attraction; they ripped out the tracks and planted trees. I guess without a military draft, we no longer think long term about injury advantages.

We’ve been reducing risk for many years now. From 1923-1939, Swallow Cliff included a 100-foot ski jump. A large tower constructed on the brow of the hill shot sportsmen and women out into space for the ultimate adrenaline rush. An estimated 45,000 spectators came in 1929 for a national amateur jump competition. Injuries abounded, and a good time was had by most. Ah, those were the days—before personal injury attorneys had billboards. Now Swallow Cliff is nothing more than a staircase for exercise enthusiasts.

I’m a pastor now, and there’s supposed to be some kind of spiritual conclusion to these musings. You may not think recollections of sledding hills have much of a religious component, but some of my earliest and most sincere prayers came from my lips when it was just me, an icy hill, my sled and a fast-approaching tree. Twisting the runners with all my might to just graze the trunk, I often uttered an honest “Thank God” as I trudged up the hill again.

Recalling early faith formation, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor

Jonathan Krogh
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