“We came here to honor her, because everything she believed in is on this mountain tonight,” Winter X Games commentator, Sal Masekela said on Thursday. “Competition, excellence and progression.”
I watched Sarah’s Burke’s family with smiles of sadness, accepting the sport that killed their daughter, their sister, their wife.
When the free skier died at the age of 29 in a skiing accident on the halfpipe in Park City, Utah, headlines questioned if the sport forced people to go too far too fast.
I’m not a free style skier but I know enough about the culture to know that was a hard blow to read for anyone exploring limits of human accomplishment.
In Aspen, at Winter X Games 2012, an announcer read, “It’s been said that the brave do not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all.”
Then, one by one the lights went dark on the halfpipe venue that Sarah Burke was so instrumental in propelling forward, the venue where she got her last big air on earth.
In black, armed with only the light of white glow sticks, skiers and snowboarders slowly moved on their boards and instruments of sport toward the mourning family that waited at the bottom.
The mountain area was silent. Almost like rushing water in the distance, the cool ‘shhhh’ of fallen precipitation was the sound their boards made as it crushed and displaced the snow quietly and peacefully.
It was as if the sport was apologizing and what was even more beautiful is her family was accepting.
It was sorry that it asked so much of their daughter, perhaps sorry it had to take her, and even more sorry that it had to keep going.
Her family seemed to understand. And that is the best tribute to Sarah Burke. Her lasting legacy, no flowers on a headstone but a wordless exchange of respect for someone they both loved, with something she loved.
“I just ski because I really like it. I’m not going out there to win the most money or make a huge difference, I just really love it.”
Doing something you love for the sake of loving it. That's something I hope to learn from her.
