Frozen Teardrop

by Lucinda Ruh

  I dedicated each skating performance to those who had been taken away and those who were left behind suffering. The motive and magnitude of what was behind this tragedy was incomprehensible to me. I dealt with it the only way I knew and could. I stuffed it away within me and skated. On the ice I just skated from my heart the pain I was feeling for others. I felt that was the least, and at the same time, the most I could do. My experience had only been a small fraction of those much more affected and there was no excuse for me not to keep the faith, hope, and beauty going by skating. I wanted to keep the spotlight shining so that all those that watched might, just might, catch a glimpse of beauty and magic that would make them feel a little more hopeful then when they arrived, even if it only lasted a second. I strived to do that for everyone I passed and every time I stepped on to the ice that year. I strived to love what I did for the sake of those who paid heavily. I would do my best to spread the magic on the ice.

  15

  Glitz Within the Terror

  (NEW YORK CITY, 72 CITY TOUR, NEW YORK CITY)

  “We, the unwilling, led by the unknowing, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have done so much, for so long, with so little, we are now qualified to do anything with nothing.”

  Mother Teresa

  Devotion is one of life’s grandest and most powerful attributions. I was raised to have devotion — devotion to my parents, to coaches, to skating, to working, to being the best I could be in everything and for everybody who came my way, but I was never taught to be devoted to myself. Without the sake of devotion to others I would not have survived, and I also would not have spun my way into oblivion. Unremitting devotion is unselfish. It is almost the giving of the soul if it is taken to the extreme. It persuades you to forget about yourself and live for others in the best way possible. It releases your ego and you find yourself reluctantly bowing your head to the people and things that you think are most important to you. You cannot lose your soul without devotion to your goal. It lets you erase all else so that only your goal is visible.

  Devotion is captivating, enthralling, and it brainwashes you in such a way that you will push anything aside to stand by your reasoning based on such immense feelings. Devotion is a way of life. You can understand the astronomical value and affect such a trait can have on a being. Yes, devoted I was. Devoted to the ones I loved and to my skating. I wish now that I had as much respect for myself as I had for others so that I could have been also devoted to myself, in heart and soul. Then just maybe I would not have ruined my own creation. Perhaps I would have had enough understanding and love for myself to protect myself from my own wrongdoing. Then perhaps I would have been awake enough to realize the world around me and within me. I had given my soul away through my devotion and maybe at that time it was a blessing in disguise. I had been unworthy of carrying it and it was better off in someone else’s possession. Until I could be who I was meant to be I would not be given back my devotion. Now, in the present, since I am worthy once more of the soul I was born with, I carry it ever so gently in the palm of my hands and in the depths of my heart.

  Stars on Ice rehearsals commenced and I was in great joy to be a part of such an elite and prestigious family of skaters, choreographers, and agents, along with media galore, privileges, and wonderful productions. I was disappointed, however, about being cast as the show queen of the show, undermining my skating abilities and spinning technique. I was not even given a real solo. Yet, I thought to myself that this would be easier on me and I should just enjoy the journey. The ego conflicts of many skaters in such an elite group would prove detrimental to becoming a cohesive group. Through our rehearsals our bonds grew tighter and we looked out for each other and enjoyed each other’s company, but we would not become close friends. We were all still in our own bubbles as figure skaters.

  Skaters are brought up as individuals who never compete with a team. We all want to win with our other individual competitors doing their best as well, but we also would rather they make mistakes so that our win is easier. It is not in our nature to want to be negative towards anybody. It is just the nature of a sport that is judged on individual performance. We are all brought up being separate. How else could we think? How else would we survive in such a pack of animals all waiting for the same bait? We do not learn team skills. At least I did not and my skating training did nothing for a team mentality.

  There were twelve top skaters, “la crème de la crème,” the tip of iceberg of the skating world, and even though we all are on the ice together, we could sense and feel the bubble around each of us. We would not dare burst someone’s bubble. It is their survival mechanism. However, I was most friendly with the top male skater who I adored and looked up to, and I was also friendly with the jolly and enriching crew and tour director. They were my friends to lean on and they were my friends that put a smile on my face. That seemed to me like their most important job of all.

  At the end of November after our month long rehearsals, during Thanksgiving was the opening night of Stars on Ice. It was held in Lake Placid, and we would have one show and then a break before touring sixty cities in America and twelve more in Canada, starting right after Christmas. The opening night was glorious. My dream had come true and after completing this tour I would feel that I truly had done everything I could have in the skating world, despite my feelings about the Olympics.

  Thanksgiving was special as well since it is not a holiday my family ever celebrated and my mother and I enjoyed it thoroughly. My father had stayed for the special event. It felt like we were part of a very elite group and had become part of a family — a special family it was and always would be.

  I had almost forgotten a special incident on the day of the opening night. At this time of my life my hair was my natural brown and short. The evening before the opening night after the dress rehearsal the producer came up to me and told me that the production team all wanted me to go back to blond, if I agreed to it. It wasn’t really a question. It was more of an order. They said they felt it fit better with the character I was playing as the show queen threaded throughout the whole show. I agreed since to me it did not really matter. Sometimes I wanted to change my hair color every week!

  So the next day they arranged for me to go to a hair salon in the area that would color me back to blond. It took around eight hours of my sitting in the chair! My hair went through a rainbow of colors, each more shocking then the last. Red, orange, yellow, green, anything but blond until the very last hour! I liked the result although my scalp was burning and itching like crazy. So I had awakened in the morning as a brunette and ended the night as a blond in sparkly costumes and head dresses! What a life!

  After the opening night, it was incredibly odd to be back in Tribeca and so close to where the Twin Towers had been. It was even stranger not to be able to see them anymore in the New York City skyline. It was still disorderly downtown where we lived. It was very dirty with soot covering the ground like a blanket covering the deceased, and the stench was still looming over the area. My mother said when she returned to the apartment the floor was covered in soot as well. The windows had been closed but as the fire engulfed our building smoke entered the apartment and covered it in black ashes. It gave me the shivers to think what it really consisted of. My sadness returned as I stepped back into my home.

  A few days after my returning home, my Chinese coach had become incredibly sick. The stress of 9/11 had caused tremendous anxiety to my usually calm, meditative, and collected coach. The incident had been too much for him to handle. My coach literally glowed orange. His eyes turned that same color as well and it was terrifying. He was rushed to the hospital and had to undergo surgery right away. He had a liver infection. I felt it had been my entire fault and I felt so guilty. I had brought him and his wife to America. I had made it possible and now within the first few months, 9/11 happened and now he was sick. I could not understand what I had done wrong. Maybe I should have never intervened. Maybe it hadn’t been my
place. I had tried so hard to give them a new life and yet all I had done was bring more chaos to the whole family. I couldn’t catch a break.

  Sometimes when you try to make someone else happy it could do more harm than good when you yourself are not in the position to make a situation better. I now know it is important to always see and check on yourself first. Are you happy? Are you in a good space? If you are, helping others will be a good thing, but if not, then fix your own life first. It will cause much less havoc to everyone involved in the end. My coach would end up being fine, but the tension between the four of us grew and we would grow apart little by little over the next few years as they dealt with their struggles and I with my own.

  Since we were living in zone one, the building management gave all the tenants the opportunity to cancel their lease and move out. My coach and his wife wanted to move out and be on their own, so we canceled the lease and my mother and I moved into a smaller apartment in the same building. We had no time to look for another building in another area. I would not be there much. I was in and out of Manhattan for the next year since I had so many shows, photo shoots for the upcoming tour, and other obligations and competitions to attend. In the end, for the four of us, it was to be “to each his own.” We parted ways leaving a bit of our heavy hearts in each one of us. We left unfinished business. In this way we knew our paths would cross once more.

  I went to the World Professional Championships once more and placed third with the bronze medal as I did the year before. The critics said I should have been placed second, but being judged and dwelling over other people’s judgment is truly a waste of time in my opinion and I was just happy to be alive and skating. Shows were exciting that year. Foxwoods, Mohegan Sun, and Atlantic City were to be rated the best. The casino show settings were beautiful and serene as the audience was only on one side and the spectators were all at dinner tables with candle lights burning.

  After 9/11 at each show I dedicated the performance to those who had passed on. That year each show felt to me as if they were watching from above and we were skating for them, too. It felt like it was our responsibility as performers to bring back joy to the world in our own little way. Each performance was, however, a little eerie. With many people still traumatized from the event they did not want to leave the comfort of their homes. We would skate to half empty arenas throughout the next two years. It was depressing, but the show must go on, and go on we did.

  The holidays ended as quickly as they had come that year. It was sad to be in the city with the memories of 9/11 lingering and I was eager to be off on the tour. The whole tour including Canada ended in June of 2002. It would be a long six months of living out of suitcases and in and out of hotels and performing incredibly shows! We were treated like royalty, staying at the best hotels in all the best cities. Even our luggage was taken care of. I did not need to lift a finger but just to skate well. It might have been the last year of such luxury from the sponsors for the skaters on this tour, since the skating business would crash soon after.

  But the best part was traveling by private jet. That was truly awesome. There is no better word for it. My mother and father and even my sister would come to visit me on tour and giving them the gift of flying on a private jet made me proud. I felt I had achieved what we had all worked for, for so long in my life. I took every day of the tour with stride and care and I soaked it all in with every sense I had. I became more and more comfortable as the tour went on and I made a couple of great friends on the way. There was no bigger honor in skating professionally then to be on this tour. However, and this is a big however, there were lots of consequences of those experiences that hampered the ability for me to be truly in my element and enjoy the skating.

  I only speak the truth, not to offend anyone but to protect my promise that this book is the whole truth. The first was that I did not like the role I was given or the costumes I had to wear. I, from the time of being very young, had never wanted to be a show pony and this role made me feel like a Vegas showgirl. Many things are not what they seem to be, and although I might have looked grand and rich I felt cheapened and discarded. Everything I had to do was exactly the opposite of what I wanted to embody and represent, which was elegance, magic, and refinement. Please do not misunderstand me. The costumes were well and thoughtfully made but were just completely out of my element. They had surely good and wonderful intentions but I was so uncomfortable. I had many changes of costumes throughout the night as well, but not one seemed to be me at all. I had to wear headdresses and all sorts of things that totally hampered my spins.

  In the beginning I was supposed to open the show with fireworks of spins in all different areas of the ice with the spotlight going on only when I was in the spin so that the audience would be in suspense as to what would happen and where I would spin next. But egos always get in the way on such occasions and someone had that part removed. Maybe it was too good, maybe it was bad, but it was not to the liking of some other people involved who all had a higher rank than I, and so it had to be taken out. So it ended up that neither the costumes nor the role were to my liking but I did not speak out and was too afraid to tell my agent in case they would then not have me tour. I did not know how to stand up for my rights and beliefs and no one else did it for me either. Plus I felt just so honored to be part of this incredible family that I would rather do what they envisioned. I was so excited to be on this tour.

  Second, it was an Olympic year and sometimes for this reason it was very hard for me to skate. I was the second youngest on this tour and the only one younger than I was an Olympic champion. So I felt robbed of my youth and felt I should still be on an amateur circuit competing at the Olympics, being an Olympian. Since we were on tour during the Games everyone watched it on television but I could not. I turned away and read a book. I wonder what the other skaters thought of me on that tour. I often sat alone, was very quiet, and was in my own world. I never spoke much nor did I party with them. I never saw the use of sharing chit-chat and gossip. I could not bear to hear it either. It was all gibberish to me. My mind was wondering about the creation of man and the world. I was a loner. They might have seen it as arrogance.

  I recall my agent and some producers telling me that they remember me as always being alone in a corner. Not because I was timid or shy. No, not at all, rather the opposite. But discussions in intimate settings were not my thing. I had so much to say, but I knew that saying what I wanted would only get me in huge trouble. So I just locked all my words away and I turned to the act of observing. I was lost, too within my own world.

  Thirdly, I was not well. I was in constant pain from my back and living on painkillers. My hips were starting to hurt a lot as well and they were popping out of their sockets frequently. My health was deteriorating. I was still in a constant flu-like condition with my nose running, my ears blocked and ringing, now more than ever, and had constant migraines and sinus headaches. I had a serious deep cough that wasn’t improving. I was dizzy and weak and my legs felt swollen. Mind you, I was feeling all this together every single day and no one knew. I always prayed at night before I went to sleep that I would wake up the next morning with all my ailments healed and find it all was just a nightmare. But it never happened and every day I was more exhausted then the day before. My immune system was in such a low state.

  I was now twenty-two and would be turning twenty-three, still without having gone through puberty. One of the skaters came up to me once and said, “You know, why are you always sick? You’re the only one here that is always sick every day. What’s wrong with you?” There was a tone to the voice that was condescending and mocking. I did not say anything and just smiled and walked away. What was I to say? How was I to explain? Sit down and go through my whole life? I thought my experiences were so different from theirs and so complicated that in no way was it possible for the skaters to comprehend me. They had no idea and I was too tired to explain. My stomach was in constant pain. I could only eat white boiled ric
e and grapes. Then here and there I added fat-free brownies. I would eat only things that were fat free since I got sick from any oil. Those were the only things I ate for six months! My mother had given me a rice cooker to travel with and bags of rice and I made my own every day. It was the cutest rice cooker, a Hello Kitty. I enjoyed the little and simple things. I wasn’t into the grandiose materialistic world. I wanted a simple life of truth and peace.

  So I was struggling with myself through the duration of the show. However the actual performing and spinning was wonderful. I so wished I was feeling healthy so that I could enjoy every minute. I wanted that so badly. I liked the tour manager and the one male skater and we became great friends. They were both such goodhearted and goodhumored men with gentle souls and they were the ones I turned to if I needed help. Our friendship would last forever.