THE MAN ON THE MOON

It was in the 1960's and Alec Cushing, owner and operator of Squaw Valley Ski Corporation was late as usual. He was past due at one more public meeting. Officials and local residents, much to their consternation, waited impatiently for the maverick ski operator who'd been ask to attend the forum in order to explain himself and his actions in the handling of his resort.

Cushing finally strode in. Everyone soon realized the reason for his tardiness. For the past half hour he'd been out in Squaw Valley meadow, stepping rigidly into every horse turd he could find, until the dung covered his shoe laces. As he walked into the room, he left a trail symbolizing what he thought of the meeting.

For many, his sign of contempt could be interpreted as brilliant. For others, it was emblamatic of his arrogance.

For all of Cushing's antics, Caligula-like whims, and stormy controversies through the years, he's the same guy who brought the Olympics to Squaw Valley in 1960. The Winter Games' success opened the doors to the Tahoe Basin and the Western ski industry, if not snowports throughout North America. He's the same fellow who, way back in 1968, had the revolutionary vision to build the largest aerial tramway in the world, and who now, into his eighties, and on the eve of the resort's 50th anniversary, continues to propel his ski area into the upper tier of international resorts, amid controversy and gumption.

Born in 1913, the grandson of an affluent Boston tea merchant, Cushing was educated at Groton and Harvard. He graduated from Harvard Law School and practiced law in both New York City and as a Special Assistant to the Attorney General in the United States Department of Justice. At the outbreak of World War II he enlisted in the Navy. Retiring with the rank of Lieutenant Commander after the war, he returned to the Wall Street firm of Davis, Polk, and Wardell.

In search of a different lifestyle in postwar America, Cushing traveled west. In 1946, he met Wayne Poulsen, a ski champion who had purchased 640 acres in a remote alpine valley and was eying the property as a ski operation. Accompanied by Poulsen, Cushing hiked into Squaw Valley with his best friend Alexander McFadden. "McFadden commented to me that you could fit a couple of Sun Valleys in it," Cushing recalls. Two years later Cushing and Poulsen formed the Squaw Valley Development Corporation.

Squaw Valley opened to the public on Thanksgiving Day, 1949 with a small lodge, a rope tow, and a ski lift built by Heron Engineering, billed as the longest double chairlift in the world.

The ski area has weathered the unpredictability of Sierra Nevada winters: Within the first five years of operation avalanches ripped out lift towers three times. The lodge was cut off four times by bridge washouts, flooded out twice, and eventually burned to the ground. There had to have been times when the unruly redhead, wiseguy Easterner, who'd quit his prestigious job in a law firm to become a snow farmer, second guessed himself. But his quest to open a ski area was more than a moment of pique. Today, Squaw Valley reigns supreme among North American ski resorts. Squaw's 30 lift, 4,000 skiable acre area stretches over six distinct peaks. Few resorts in the world offer as much demanding terrain. No other area in North America presents as vast a lift network featuring the continent's largest aerial cable car and only Funitel.

After 50 years, Alexander Cushing remains the resort's driving force and visionary. When it comes to shakers and movers, few can waltz with the likes of Squaw's unabashed and autocratic patriarch. One day in 1954, a two-paragraph story in a newspaper caught Cushing's eye. Reno had bid for the 1960 Winter Olympic Games. Cushing decided to throw his resort's name into the bidding hat. He admits that applying to host the Games was nothing more than a publicity gimmick. "I had no more interest in getting the Olympics than the man on the moon," says Cushing. A year later, after Squaw Valley became the American nominee, shocking the representatives from Aspen, Lake Placid, and Sun Valley, Cushing found himself in Paris before the International Olympic Commitee. Aided by several adroit multilingual friends, including Jo Marillac, George Weller, and Marshall Hazeltine, Cushing presented Squaw Valley as a simple mountain retreat where the true values of the Olympics would be reborn. Cushing, in his final humble presentation to the committee offered such phrases as "We're all sportsmen here, not politicians." Squaw Valley won by one vote on the the second ballot.

At the beginning of the new millenium Cushing continues to propel Squaw Valley into the upper tier of international ski resorts. In 1997 Cushing unveiled a $30 million project for the installation of the Funitel, a modernized cable car, and a non-detachable conveyance gondola. His current project: Two new six-pack detachables, three hotels on the upper mountain, and an Intrawest built, seventeen acre alpine village at the base.

"What we've created here is for everybody to see," says Cushing. "But I'm not as concerned with the past fifty years as much as the future. We're pushing ahead into the 21st century. My life's ambition is to make Squaw Valley the very best."

Robert Frohlich: Let's talk about Squaw's future. What can people expect to see in the next century?

Cushing: We have a good mountain, but in today's industry you need more. You need to have a village at the bottom and that's what we're committed to building. Intrawest hopes to break ground next spring. In the meantime, we're transforming the theater into a skier services building complete with food, ticket sales and rentals. The Olympic House is undergoing some major improvements including this summer the construction of a new deck. We're installing a gondola next year at the far end of the parking lot so people will not have to walk through any Intrawest construction. It will go as high as the present Papoose lift. Beginners will go around and down via Easy Street. Overall, we are planning things to compliment the new village.

RF: The village is being built by Intrawest. What's Squaw's relationship exactly with Intrawest?

Cushing: We've sold them several sections of land. We're not involved financially with their project, although we have architectural approval, and so far we have no problems, in fact we're enthusiastic over what they plan to build. Intrawest has no association with Ski Corp other than a symbolic relationship and common goals.

RF: How about hotels on the mountain?

Cushing: We've been thinking about hotels on the mountain for twenty years and it still remains in the discussion stage so I think its premature to discuss what's going to be built. Basically, High Camp is finished. Now it's only a question of adding rooms to it. We're thinking of three hotels: one at Gold Coast, one at High Camp, and one between the two day lodges. The Pulse lift will combine all three.

RF: High Camp is a marvelous development, but some critics say out of sight, out of mind. For a lot of people it's not affordable. Why invest so much up top away from road traffic, especially after purchasing the Olympic Village property?

Cushing: We still have to earn our money. High Camp is designed to sell cable car rides. There's no automobile problem at High Camp, only fresh air. It's perfectly beautiful up there. There's nothing like it in the world. It makes a tremendous difference in our business, especially in the spring and summer. People love the ice rink. It seems to be working.

RF: What are Squaw's plans for the Olympic Village?

Cushing: Ski Corp is moving into the building this year. It will house administration offices and other departments.

RF: When you think of what Kirkwood is constructing along with Heavenly's downtown project, add Sugar Bowl's master plan, and improvements at a niche player like Homewood, along with what Squaw Valley is doing, that's close to a billion dollars in proposed development around the Tahoe Basin. It's going to be pretty competitive for customers. What are your thoughts?

Cushing: If we're allowed to do what we have planned I think we can build something here that will be close to the best in the world. I feel if it's as good as we think, people will come to Squaw Valley no matter what others are doing.

RF: After everything in Squaw Valley's plan is built, including the upper mountain hotels, base village, etc., what end result do you envision? Will Squaw begin hosting World Cups? How many tickets per day do hope to sell?

Cushing: World Cups are a lot of fun, but they're a big deal. You need a lot of community support. You need housing. We have a great race program, but there's more to it than that. We've had as many as 20,000 people on the mountain in the past and we can do it with no waiting in line. However, overcrowding is the last thing we want to do. I don't foresee, as a result, putting more than 20,000 visitors per day on the mountain.

RF: Many people have critisized the cost of the Funitel, saying you could have built four detachables for the price of this one lift.

Cushing: Not everybody is trying to be the best in the world. That's what we're trying to do. We have a lift system like no one else.

RF: Squaw continues to mire itself in one controversy after another. Now you're in the midst of controversy with the Funitel. Are you a victim, or is the resort still making mistakes? There always appears to be a black cloud over an otherwise tremendous mountain.

Cushing: Placer County is difficult to deal with. The permit situation is so bad, so costly. You work as hard as you can. Then they say the permit has expired and we have to pay again for the same permit. They want more money. You pay twice for everything.

RF: You are very scrutinized now on any project. Do you feel like backing off a project that seems against public opinion or isn't worth the hassle?

Cushing: This place is like a sculpture. It's an obsession. I think about it all the time. There's no backing off. My life's ambition is to make Squaw Valley the very best. I can't back off. It would be like throwing away my life.

RF: Is it good to be scrutinized? It makes you take another look and make sure what you're doing is correct.

Cushing: I can say, with the exception of the Sun Bowl, which has been declared a Wilderness Area, that the environmental regulations have only added to our costs. It hasn't changed one thing in the way we would have done things anyway. That's my perspective.

RF: It must be taxing, nonetheless, to be forever embattled and attacked from different sides. You're a determined person, but it must be fatiguing. Does your optimism ever waiver?

Cushing: I'm a positive person. I've been dealt a good hand on the whole. If I have a dark period, well, that happens to anybody. I know that problems can be worked out.

RF: You remain an enigma to many people, a man of considerable mystique, almost reclusive. Do you perpetuate this myth or is it just the way it worked out?

Cushing: I was good friends with Michael Romanoff, the famous restauranteur who led a life in Hollywood hobnobbing with the rich and famous. He told me to never paint yourself in a corner. He described that when he wasn't at the restaurant business fell off. I never wanted people to come to Squaw Valley to see me. I wanted them to come see Squaw Valley. But don't get me wrong. I enjoy people very much and if someone asked me the question,"Whats he like?" I'd answer by saying," He's different than you think."

RF: Now in your mid-eighties you're very much in good health. You appear to keep a very active pace. How much hands-on, day-to-day resort business do you handle?

Cushing: I work harder it seems every year. Squaw Valley is really the only thing that interests me. Many of my friends are now gone or incapacitated, yet the people at Squaw Valley remain marvelous. I have a great group around me who run the place. My wife Nancy, Hans Burkhardt, and myself make most of the decisions. I've watched my health and still enjoy skiing, golf, and tennis. You see, I really want to watch all this stuff we're planning take place. I plan on being around for awhile.

RF: In 50 years of operation do you have a favorite employee?

Cushing: Nobody can take the place of John Buchman. He was my very first employee. He was from New Jersey and I liked the fact that he had a good war record. He went in a private during WWII and came out a captain. He'd been a taxi driver and seemed like a decent guy. At the beginning his Squaw Valley business was at the end of a shovel. However Bob Heron and I had our first office in the Watson Cabin in Tahoe City. John began stopping over after work, volunteering his help. We became friends. After ten days I made him my general manager. He was there for 45 years. John was a very hard worker and very loyal. That counts for a lot.

RF: How about Bill Boardman?

Cushing: Bill and I went to Harvard. He ran a hotel in Vermont, but then his wife died so he came here and worked for us for 30 years. I remember when he first came out he had a terrible ulcer and needed an operation. The doctor was an old friend of ours from Harvard. When he operated on Bill he ended up yanking all of Bill's teeth out, too. Said they were a mess and as he was operating, staring at Bill's mouth, he just had to pull them. So Bill woke up with half a stomach and no teeth.

RF: When was the first time you met Hans Burkhardt?

Cushing: A German lift company completed our first gondola in 1963, a year after the floods. I asked someone in the company who I should get to run the thing. One of them took me outside and pointed up the mountain. There was this fellow hanging upside down in a sling off Tower 4 drilling into rock. "That guy can do it. He knows a lot," the man told me. I met Hans and liked him. All Hans said was, "Yes, I'll do it, but not for any ski instructor's salary." He ended up building the cable car and most everything else around here. He's the best.

RF: You've encountered so many legendary people through fifty years of Squaw Valley. What was Richard Nixon like? You must of met him when he came as Vice-President to open the Winter Games.

Cushing: He had a very sweaty handshake.

RF: How about Walt Disney?

Cushing: Walt orchestrated both the opening and closing ceremonies for the Olympics. I saw a lot of him. He was a wonderful man, very modest. He said to me, "All I do in this world is juggle these balls and keep them up in the air."

RF: Having Emile Allais as Squaw's first ski instructor immediately lent credibility to a new ski area.

Cushing: At the time he was the Ben Hogan of skiing. There was no question that he was the best. He'd been on the cover of Life. It was quite a coup for us. We got him through the efforts of Norma Shearer and Marty Arrouge, Squaw Valley stockholders, who knew him fairly well from Sun Valley. However, Emile was much more interested in training racers and free skiing than working with the public. Big spenders never got to ski with him. He spent his time training with racers. He was with us three years.

RF: It must have been a fun period - opening the place up, getting the Olympics, being on the cover of TIME.

Cushing: I was in Cypress Point playing golf and received a call at ten in the morning. Some fellow said TIME was thinking of putting me on the cover and would I cooperate? I said when do I need to cooperate and he said right now. I had to go to San Francisco for Peter Hurd to shoot me for the cover. A reporter came and stayed in my house for a month. We were receiving a lot of favorable press with the approach of the Olympics. There was a lot of stuff going on and it was a very heady period for me. The problem was everyone was waiting to see what kind of encore I could come up with to outdo myself.

RF: You always had an eye for promotion. You brought Sergio Mendes to promote the opening of the first gondola, had Bertha the elephant from a Reno casino come for the tram opening, and a tiger for the opening ceremony of the Siberia Express quad.

Cushing: I built the gondola originally as a summer attraction, not for winter. That gondola made me nervous. It overheated if run all day. For six weeks we had Sergio Mendes perform evenings up top. It's actually what got me thinking of installing a lift that could run 24 hours a day without problems and that lead to the installation of the cable car. Siberia was our first quad so we wanted to do something special, hence brought this tiger up from Marine World.We lucked out with that cat. I heard that a week after coming to Squaw for the lift ceremony it burst off stage somewhere else and ate someone in the audience. We were promoting the cable car as the largest in the world, so big it could carry an elephant, we said. So we brought Bertha up from John Asquaga's Nugget. Bertha had her mate with her in the truck. They were braying at each other all the time and it turned out Bertha wasn't exactly housebroken. She was brought up to the car but never went for a ride. We thought she might run amuck.

RF: I heard the Olympic Committee wanted to change the name of the Siberia lift because they thought it would insult the Russians.

Cushing: Some thought it would, but we stuck with the name. Naming lifts can sometimes be a joke. I never wanted scary sounding names. The Bailey's Beach lift is named after a famous beach in Newport, Rhode Island. Gold Coast is a marvelous name and named after a row of palatial estates on an avenue in Manhattan. Other lifts were named in a moment of fancy, such as Red Dog. I was driving once through the desert and saw a sign on the road saying Red Dog 12 miles. Another time, I was driving up from Las Vegas to Reno and stopped for breakfast in a town called Searchlight. Robert Trent Jones once drew up plans for a golf course on the upper mountain. Hence, the Links chair.

RF: Squaw Valley remains one of the last resorts that is emblematic of what the ski lifestyle or culture is all about. A place where the rich and not so rich can rub elbows, a predominantly on - snow experience, a lot of fun and games. Who does Squaw Valley want to cater to?

Cushing: We want everybody. The industry's changed. The business is much bigger than I like, but we still run a family-type enterprise. I still believe skiing is about smelling the flowers, about the beauty of the mountains. I want everybody to enjoy it. I never want our infrastructure to overpower the hill. We still want people to concentrate on the mountain.

RF: What are your thoughts on the 50th?

Cushing: I'm more interested in the work in progress. However, anybody to stay in business for 50 years is an accomplishment. We've stuck with it, but it's hard, always been hard, and doesn't get any easier. What we've done here is for everybody to see. Nothing more I can say about it. There it is. I blow hot and cold on it myself.

RF: How would you like to be remembered after all is said and done?

Cushing: I'll basically be remembered for Squaw Valley. That's what I'm associated with. There is no escaping it. Hopefully more people will like it than don't.