Once day, when Beata was three, Tomoko took her shopping with her at New York Fabrics in Larkspur. “See all the pretty fabrics, Peachiko. Isn’t this fleece soft?” Peachiko, Beata's pet name, was amazed at all the colors as her mother swept through the store. As they left the building, Beata pointed left. “What’s that place?"
Tomoko answered, “Raydine Ice Skating Rink.” Then she had an inspiration. Always looking for some activity for Beata, Tomoko thought, “Peachiko is very coordinated, and she likes to move to music, so this might be fun.” She and Beata walked across the street, and entered the main lobby. Following the music and sound of skating, Tomoko and Beata peered into the rink, and sat down on a bleacher to watch. Tomoko could see Beata shiver a little, and she pulled the sweater over her daughter’s head. “Look, Mummy! It’s a girl like me!”
“Would you like to skate too, Peachiko?” Tomoko never skated.
“Yes, Mummy, can I?”
Tomoko took Beata’s hand, and asked at the service desk, “Do you have teachers and skates?”
“Of course,” answered the young clerk. Then he motioned over a friendly looking gentleman in his forties wearing a big black overcoat and Russian style hat, learning on a guard rail.
“How do you do? My name is Tony Howard.” He took Tomoko’s hand warmly, as she greeted him. Tomoko recognized a British accent in his voice. He had immigrated from London to San Francisco in 1955, and made his living teaching skating at the Bay area skating rink.
Tony bent his knees to greet Beata. “And what is your name? Would you like to skate?” Beata nodded solemnly.
“My daughter Beata would like to try. Could you give her a lesson?” Somehow, Tomoko felt that she should use Beata’s formal name.
“Let’s see what we can do, all right?”
With that, Tony walked her onto the ice. Tomoko watched as Tony guided Beata to the middle, away from the other skaters, and then showed her how to balance and walk on the ice. He got her to swivel a bit, had her try jumping, and made her practice how to bend and fall – and get back up again without hurting herself. Beata stuck right by Tony, once in a while waving at her mother. Then Tony swooped Beata up in his arms and glided once around the rink, letting Beata feel the wind in her face. “Whee!” she cried.
That was the start. Beata couldn’t wait to tell her Daddy about ice skating that night. “And I jumped and I turned and I went all around!” Beata said breathlessly as she acted out each part. She stretched out her arm, “And breezes come in!”
Twenty years later, after thousands of hours of practicing, thousands of dollars in competition and other expenses, and the perfect ice dance partner and husband, Beata and and Charles climbed up the competition ranks: from tenth to second place in the U.S. Championships. “The Olympics actually looked promising,” thought the two, even though Charles was pushing the usual age limit for such high-stakes competitions. Then Charles experienced two setbacks: a knee surgery that resulted in a blood in his calf, and a torn meniscus the month after; he missed two months of practice. Nevertheless, they placed fourth in the Four Continents Championships and fourth place in the Olympic team. “So close!” the couple sighed, since only two couples would be sent to Salt Lake City for the 2002 Winter Games. But then, the two top teams were eliminated because of citizenship programs, so Beata and Charles were granted the second spot. They were also the only married couple in the American delegation. “We’re actually going to compete in the Olympics!” they cheered. Once the reality set in, Beata and Charles were more sober, “It’s not much time to prepare; we’ll have to ‘up’ our game even more.”
The pressure was worth it. The Olympics experience was a high point for the whole family.
