Dadou and I were sitting on a wall in Kialua watching the waves and I asked him how long would he keep skiing?  He was always joking with me, but this time he got serious, his eyes opened wide and he said “I love skiing, skiing is my life.  I ski till I die.”  I feel bad that these last two seasons he didn't get to ski, but he always asked me to make a turn for him.  Then he would laugh and say “never mind, you can't do it right” then he would giggle some more.

Often we would talk about racing and again his eyes would light up.  I asked why he never raced the Taos Marathon? He said he doesn't compete against his brother, that it was his race.  I always respected him for that and so much more.  Dadou and Jean were so very close.  Dadou always spoke so kindly about his big brother.  He also spoke about how is big brother always took care of him. 

He always cared about the safety of his racers.  We were racing in Salida, and I was 3^rd to the last, to run.  He went up to the start and told me that I shouldn't race.  There were rocks and stumps on the course in the middle of the gates.  I told him I had to race, so he said be careful and turn high, stay out of the middle of the gates. I had a terrific run, I was so fast I beat everyone by 10 seconds.  The timer said no one could be that fast, so the timers added a minute to my time.  All my friends asked if I went out of the course, I told them no, I had a good run. I told Dadou I wanted a re-run and he wouldn't let me.  He said I was lucky once and it was too dangerous so no re-run. 

Another time he took the racing team to Aspen for a race.  They were on their way back outside of Glenwood Springs in the canyon, an officer was behind him, and Dadou barely crossed the center line so the officer pulled him over and gave him a ticket.  The officer told him he had to be in court the next day.  Dadou told him he had to take the kids back to Taos, but he would come back.  The officer made him leave some collateral and went for his skis.  Dadou got in front of him and said “I make my living with my skis and you can't touch them.” So he ended up giving the officer his Rolex watch as collateral.  He ended up driving them all the way back to Taos and back to Glenwood the next day.  

Dadou was a prankster and loved teasing.  He always loved teasing Albert and I about “being fat”.

One day, Jen, Albert and I were having lunch at the St. Bernard, and he came to visit us at lunch.  He looked at Albert and said “well you're looking good, did you loose weight?”  Albert felt so good about that.  We visited for a while, and Dadou had to leave for a lesson, he took a few steps away, and came back.  He put his arm on Albert's shoulder, and told him that he was joking and that he was still fat. He started laughing and walked away.  

Dadou told me many other stories about growing up.  One of them was, he didn't like school so he always played hookie.  Mostly to go fishing.  He said he had a special fishing hole that he would always go to.  One day he played hookie and was so excited to go fishing at his favorite fishing hole.  He turned the corner and his dad was there!  He said he had to back up very quietly.  Then with a big smile he looked at me and said “Close Call!”  He always loved fishing at the little river by the ski area.

Among other things, he loved to play tennis.  As always he excelled in Tennis, just like anything he did.  He always played a great game, but if he got in trouble he would hit his famous lob.  He had that down to an art.   He was also a terrific biker.  He was really strong riding up mountains.

He loved snorkeling and being around dolphins.  He respected the dolphins and kept his distance.  The first time I snorkeled with him, a dolphin swam up to me and stayed there about 15 seconds then swam next to me while pushing water against me.  It then stopped 90 degrees to me and stayed there checking me out, then swam away.  I really wanted to pet it, but knew I shouldn't.  Dadou took some pictures of the encounter, but they came out blurry because he was too far away. When we got in the boat, he hit me in the chest, and asked why don't the dolphins come to him like that?  I told him, the only reason I could figure was that he wasn't a nice person.  He then told me he saw a whale in the water, (the whale being me), and he started laughing.  He got me again, that prankster. 

There are many other stories about Dadou, especially how he loved teasing and joking with everyone.  These were only a few of my special ones.  We loved each other as brothers, and I always appreciated how special he was, and how he always treated me.  I close my eyes and I see him smiling at me, saying “my pacito”.  I will never forget our special memories and the bond we shared.     

 

For my brother Dadou.

Love, 

Paco (your Pacito)

“He treated us all as if we were Olympic caliber racers.”

“He treated us like we were a part of his family.” 

“The best memories of my childhood were racing for him.”

“He always had a smile on his face when he was skiing.” 

This story is from Barbie Lomax Turiciano. I’ve included it here because paraphrasing it wouldn’t do it justice. 

“Speed, my hair was blowing under my hat. He was right before me, and I wanted to pass him. 
A full tuck down Rubenzahl and Dadou was my mark. I still see the quick turn of his head, a glance, and his devilish smile.
I stayed on his tail from top to bottom. It was one of the best days of my ski racing career.
When the team gathered to ride the chair lift, he turned to me and asked me to ride with him.
On that lift ride, he told me to embrace my thunder thighs. 
Use the power and gift of my body type. He knew how to light a spark and ignite a flame. 
From that day forward, I searched for speed.
Dadou discovered the strengths and weaknesses of every person who ski-raced for him. 
He taught us life skills and made every one of us feel special.
To teach is to touch a life forever; Dadou did just that!”

When Dadou asked you to ride the chair with him it was always special. Sometimes it was inspiring, like in Barbie’s story. Sometimes it was because we needed a little attitude adjustment. I got the latter. 

Dadou had lectured me about taking care of my skis. I hated melting petex over the gouges and then scraping them. So I brokered a deal with Paul and Phil André. I baked them a loaf of banana bread every week and they took care of my skis. It was a beautiful arrangement. Until the day I was asked to ride the chair with Dadou. 

            I remember the excitement of that special request. And it started out great. He commented that he noticed that my skis were in good shape. I felt so clever. But I quickly realized, that I received that special request so he could lecture me about responsibility for my own equipment. It was a good lecture too—all the way up Al’s run. It was also the end of a beautiful deal. 

            Dadou had a knack for saying the right thing in the right moment. He teased with us often, gave us an occasional attitude check, and consoled us in those moments when being a teenager was just too hard. Above all he always, always, encouraged us to be our best selves. 

            I’ve always said that we’d ski off a cliff for him and there is a lot of truth to that statement. We knew he’d never ask us to do something we couldn’t do. In fact, I think we were the original Taos Ski Valley pond skimmers. Back in the seventies we had summer racing camp because—believe it or not—there was enough snow on the backside in June. One year on the last day of camp Dadou and Mark Wilson challenged us to ski across a pond. I don’t remember who made it across without plunging into the ice-cold water, but I remember I only made it half-way. It was one of the coolest things I’ve done. Literally. Would I do it again? NO! But I did it because he challenged me to. 

His love for skiing and the sport was contagious. He was everything good about skiing and racing. He was our friend and mentor on and off the slopes. We love you, Dadou. You remain always in our hearts. As I speed down the mountain, I’m sure I’ll hear that beautiful French accent riding the wind, yelling, “Aller! Aller! Aller!” 

Dadou and I shared many hours together on the slopes and on the tennis court.  We enjoyed many adventures windsurfing from Florida to Mexico and especially Maui.  When he planned to build on the Big Island, he invited me to come help with the project.  There were problems with getting the building permit so there was very little for us to do except move some rocks on the property and pick some fruit.  So we spent the next three weeks playing tennis, hiking, and going to his favorite beach where he introduced me to his dolphins.  On a hike one day while taking a break for water, he turned to me and announced that I needed to learn how to walk.  I was indignant and explained that I had been doing a pretty good job of walking since about the age of one.  For half an hour we sat and discussed the mechanics of putting one foot in front of the other and analyzed the patterns of movement as one does so.  While he was always a fine teacher he was a more amazing learner willing to question and challenge conventional wisdom.   I will greatly miss my friend and like to think of him swimming off his favorite beach with his dolphins.     
Tony Bryan

One year during the Christmas holidays our family was invited to stay with Dadou, Ilse Suzanne and Christian in their home upstairs in the original Edelweiss. As was customary, we had breakfast every morning with guests downstairs in the dining room. My mother, Carolyn Church, was not really a morning person and ate very simple breakfasts of toast, coffee and juice struggled with the wonderful full breakfasts that were served each day. By about day 3, she asked the server if she could just have a simple hard-boiled egg without anything else. Soon after, there server returned with a plate with a bowl on it and inside the bowl was a soft-boiled egg with the words, “Good morning, you old Grouch!” Much laughter followed and that was just one of the many fun banters between my mother and Dadou. She even made herself an apron with that saying stitched on it which she wore with pride, especially anytime Dadou was at her home.

One of Dadou’s favorite things my mother made was Cow’s tongue. Mother often made it for a weekend of ski racing when the best we could do for lunch was a piece of bologna, a slice ofAmerican cheese, and nothing else between 2 pieces of gummy Wonder bread! Dadou loved the cooked tongue for his sandwiches and always said it reminded him of French kissing!

Dadou put up with a lot of girls on his ski team and when we would be running gates for training he would get somewhat frustrated with us because he said we primped too much! But that just egged us on so of course, we would then play that up and take that much longer!

I skied for Dadou from the time I was 8 years old until I turned 18 and those were some of the best years in my life. It wasn’t just about ski racing, it was about life and love. He rarely got mad at us, treated us like we were all Olympic caliber ski racers, encouraged us, and loved us like we were his own kids. During those years I also took dance lessons, mostly ballet and one year, Dadou asked me if I had quit dance. Thinking that dance classes took away from the time I  needed to spend skiing, I had quit dance, but Dadou told me to get back to ballet class! He said that it showed in my skiing and I was not as graceful on the slopes! To this day I think about that whenever I put on my skis and wonder if I am as graceful! What an amazing person Dadou was; a coach, a mentor, a friend. Skiing in Taos will never be the same without him, but the memories and love he shared with me, my family all the teammates over the years - nothing else will ever come close.

Janet Church Harrison

Bruce Lomax

I wasn't ready for you to leave!  I have been thinking about you so much since I heard you'd passed, so many memories popping up that make me smile and cry with love and appreciation.    

When I met you, I didn't know you were a myth and legend at TSV.  You were just my husband's ex-father-in-law, who was in my Thursday afternoon therapy group.  You had your crap, like all of us, and were there to work on it. I found you to be funny, and loving, and brave.  And you were so supportive of me, and all of us.  Later, when you grabbed me and put me, wide-eyed, in your learn-to-ski-week, I learned more about that other part of you.  But mostly, I knew you as my beloved friend.  

I loved our mountain bike rides, just the two of us, and the dogs, riding and talking and sharing.  And the rides with Mary and Mark, often ending at Tim's with margaritas and so much laughing!  Remember the time we almost got blown off the ridge on the way down from Wheeler Peak?  IN NOVEMBER?!  What were we thinking?!  OMG.  I remember on Maui, at the windsurfing beach, you doing this horrible, inappropriate imitation of a Japanese accent, with Japanese tourists just a few yards away, and Mary and I shooshing you, wacking at you, completely horrified, and you just laughing.   I remember being in labor with Jake at your house, you and Mary taking care of me, feeding me, timing the contractions until it was time to go to the midwives-- you stayed behind when it came to that part of things!  And you, so I could sleep in, walking with wee Jake in the Baby Bjorn on the beach, singing French marching songs and enjoying the attention you received from the ladies because you had a cute baby on your chest.  I'm pretty sure you and Mary showed up with breakfast burritos when Roland was born. I learned to swear better in your company, and to use the f-word liberally.  I remember you, very pleased with yourself, delivering a huge pile of mangos you had poached to the patio table on Maui, "they weren't going to eat them."  And you and I, poaching apricots in Valdez.  And many more...  

 I love you, dear Dadou, and am so grateful for the sweet friendship we had and all the great memories.  I can't say, "Good-bye," so I'll leave it for now with, "A bientot."  Can't wait to see you next time around!