Two generations of Grahams learned to water ski on these little wooden skis. My father and aunts, then my brothers and me. I don’t know what methods my Granddaddy Graham used, to get his children to pop up and stay up, but I will tell you my own Daddy’s method.
First he motored the boat to a quiet part of Herrington Lake, which meant that the undisturbed water was skimmed with this awful debris. It was organic stuff like leaves and twigs, but nevertheless awful to six-year-old me. Heck, I’m shuddering right now, nearly 50 years 48 years and three days later. Then he got in the water with me and got my skis on my feet, and said, “Hold on tight and lean back with your bottom on your heels. Keep your ski tips pointed up. And when you’re up, you’ll want to stay up, because there are alligators in this part of the lake.”
It turns out that I was a pretty quick study, when it came to my first — and last — water skiing lesson.
ginnygram 