![]() ![]() Schiller” died in childbed, giving birth to a stillborn girl, on Christmas Day 1952, in Grey Star, a settlement in the remotest Northwest. “Rita” has recently married the proprietor of a hotel in Florida. His daughter, “Louise,” is by now a college sophomore. “Windmuller,” of “Ramsdale,” who desires his identity suppressed so that “the long shadows of this sorry and sordid business” should not reach the community to which he is proud to belong. For the benefit of old-fashioned readers who wish to follow the destinies of “real” people beyond the “true” story, a few details may be given as received from Mr. References to "H.H."'s crime may be looked up by the inquisitive in the daily papers for September–October 1952 its cause and purpose would have continued to remain a complete mystery, had not this memoir been permitted to come under my reading lamp. While "Haze" only rhymes with the heroine's real surname, her first name is too closely interwound with the inmost fiber of the book to allow one to alter it nor (as the reader will perceive for himself) is there any practical necessity to do so. Its author's bizarre cognomen is his own invention and, of course, this mask-through which two hypnotic eyes seem to glow-had to remain unlifted in accordance with its wearer's wish. Save for the correction of obvious solecisms and a careful suppression of a few tenacious details that despite "H.H."'s own efforts still subsisted in his text as signposts and tombstones (indicative of places or persons that taste would conceal and compassion spare), this remarkable memoir is presented intact. My task proved simpler than either of us had anticipated. Clark's decision may have been influenced by the fact that the editor of his choice had just been awarding the Poling Prize for a modest work ("Do the Senses make Sense?") wherein certain morbid states and perversions had been discussed. His lawyer, my good friend and relation, Clarence Choate Clark, Esq., now of the District of Columbia bar, in asking me to edit the manuscript, based his request on a clause in his client's will which empowered my eminent cousin to use his discretion in all matters pertaining to the preparation of "Lolita" for print. "Humbert Humbert," their author, had died in legal captivity, of coronary thrombosis, on November 16, 1952, a few days before his trial was scheduled to start. Also, in collaboration with Swiss ski historian Luzi Hitz, we have just made available online our virtual Swiss Ski Museum (which we later plan to move to a “Brick & Mortar” structure somewhere in the Valais Alps as well as set up a mobile educational display.Foreword "Lolita, or the Confession of a White Widowed Male," such were the two titles under which the writer of the present note received the strange pages it preambulates. Today, with my good friend Sepp Halder, who is a professional Swiss mountain guide and ski instructor, we have set out to find caring homes for our finely restored vintage skis and other non restored ski equipment. Then, I thought, why not add a pair from North America, France and Italy! I guess that you can figure out the rest by yourselves “The Swiss Timer”) was the chief race timer at our ski hill and in case you have forgotten, he was always very quick to remind you of the precision of the Swiss Timing Systems.Īfter moving from Canada to Switzerland in my teens to pursue a professional ski career, I picked up a pair of my father’s old skis at the farm where he grew up, then a pair from my aunt in the Black Forest, Germany. Such a person might very well become a “new jump” for us to discover the next day after being covered by 30cm of fresh snow! My Swiss father (a.k.a. My German mother was a weekend ski patroller at our local ski resort, therefore, we were always the first ones on the slopes and the last to leave as we had to do the “Sweep” of each slope to make sure no one, whether they are disabled or not, was left behind overnight. If I say that I was born in a “Skier family”, this would be an understatement. ![]() I actually started skiing at the age of four and I have not looked back since. I can't say I started skiing from birth but my parents, being optimistic installed a ski rack on my baby carriage, just in case. ![]()
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