My Ice-Skating Memoirs: A Journey Through Rinks, Memories, and Time

My Ice-Skating Memoirs: A Nostalgic Journey Through Rinks, Memories, and Time

Today, a photograph transported me back in time—a candid shot of my grandpa, brother, and me at one of my skating lessons. It was a sweet reminder of those formative years when the ice rink was not just a venue but a second home. My grandpa had come to watch me skate, and that moment sparked a wave of nostalgia that had me Googling the ice rinks of my youth and looking up old photos. Those rinks were more than just buildings; they were the backdrop to my childhood, a reflection of an ice-skating family’s dedication and love for the sport.

1. The picture that sparked the memory — a snapshot of skating days with my brother and Grandpa outside the West Covina Ice Arena, ca. 1981-1982

The Early Years: Skates and Figure Eights

I started skating in the very early 1970s, officially beginning lessons at the age of 5. For nearly a decade, the rink was my playground, classroom, and stage. From the painstaking perfection of figure eights to the exhilaration of free skate sessions, the ice demanded discipline and grace.

Practices often began at the crack of dawn. Sometimes, I found myself practicing figure eights not on ice but on a peculiar surface made of plastic patches designed to mimic it. It was rigorous, sometimes draining, and always a little surreal. Those mornings were not just about learning to skate but about developing a resilience that stays with me even today.

Our family was deeply entrenched in the skating world. My mom had been an avid skater since childhood, performing in shows well into adulthood. My sister, the natural performer, was a showstopper in both competitions and ice shows. While she left the sport by 12, her brief career was marked with dazzling spins and theatrical flair.

Skating memories with my dad, age 4; Santa Monica Ice Capades Chalet, ca. 1972-1973

My sister, right before a show; Pickwick Ice Rink, ca. 1976-1977

My sister, during free time after a lesson and practice, Most likely Pickwick Ice Rink, ca. 1977-1978

2. Practice—capturing a routine on the ice, a mix of grace and hard work; West Covina Ice Arena, ca. 1981

3. My dad forcing me to take a photo, even though I hated having pictures taken; West Covina Ice Arena, ca. 1981

My mom practicing; Not sure of rink, don't recognize it

The Rinks That Built My World

The Los Angeles area of the 1970s and 1980s was home to an array of iconic ice rinks, but 4 were our rink-hop rinks, Pickwick Ice Rink, Culver City Ice Arena, West Covina Ice Arena, and the Santa Monica Ice Capades Chalet, depending on factors like my mom’s rehearsal schedule, the rinks’ operating hours, or which skating friends she planned to meet up with. Each one holds a special place in my memory, as well as a few others:
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• Pickwick Ice Rink in Burbank (now LA Kings Ice at Pickwick Gardens) was the scene of my early lessons and most of my mom’s and sister’s ice shows. Its sprawling ice surface was the site of many lessons and friendships.
• West Covina Ice Arena, which closed in the mid-1980s and was located at 2235 E. Garvey, on Hollenbeck and N. Garvey in West Covina CA, with its statue of a spinning skater atop a glacial scene, was another hub. It was the main skating hub for all my lessons in the later years. Joe Ursetta, the owner, often let us practice there for free—a kindness I still cherish.
• Culver City Ice Arena, located at 4545 Sepulveda Blvd. Culver City, CA and which stood until 2014, was another go-to spot. The statue of the spinning skater atop a glacial scene was removed here after the West Covina Ice Arena closed down.
• Santa Monica Ice Capades Chalet, which closed in 1983, brought its own charm, nestled at 5th and Broadway, and was the scene of my earliest ice-skating memories.
• Pasadena Ice Skating Center and Big Bear Ice Chalet, though less frequent destinations, were part of our rink-hopping adventures as well.

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Each rink had its quirks and culture, from the cozy coffee shops where parents waited to the bustling energy of rehearsals and free skates. My dad, for instance, spent hours in the coffee shop adjoining West Covina Ice Arena, patiently waiting while I practiced during my later years.

A Skating Family’s Life

As an ice-skating family, we lived by the rink’s rhythms. My mom, always connected with the skating community, often practiced after hours, long after the rink had closed. The early days were spent with my brother and I roaming around the rinks ALL day. We knew everyone at the rinks, and everyone knew us, so we always had others looking out for us. That was the 70s for you. I sometimes slept in the car during these late-night sessions, though I vividly recall a scary moment when a stranger peered into the window. These were sacrifices we made as part of the sport’s demanding culture.

I met fascinating people through the rink, including skating legends like Dorothy Hamill, at the Pickwick Rink, who once gifted me her Barbie doll modeled after her Olympic triumph in 1976; the actor Peter Falk, who played as Columbo, at the Santa Monica Rink and for some reason was dressed in his famous coat and giving us his Columbo routine; Peggy Flemming; and many more. Encounters like these brought the magic of skating alive.

The Decision to Step Away

By the time I reached 13, the grind of skating had begun to wear on me. The hours of practice left little room for fun, and I longed for time to spend with friends. When I told my mom I wanted to stop, her disappointment was unmistakable. Skating had been such a central part of her life and ours that stepping away felt monumental. But it was the right decision for me. 

My first refusal to practice and just have fun speed skating with my friends, My mom was furious; ca. 1980, 1-1

My first refusal to practice and just have fun speed skating with my friends, My mom was furious; ca. 1980, 1-2

A Legacy on Ice

My mom continued skating long after we had grown up, performing in shows at the Pasadena Ice Skating Center. Her dedication was a testament to the lifelong joy that skating brought her. 

Reflecting on those years, I see skating as more than a sport. It was a tapestry woven with memories of family, discipline, and the pure magic of gliding across the ice. The rinks, now lost to time or transformed, remain alive in my heart—a frozen piece of my history, preserved forever.

Closing Thoughts

Whether you grew up skating or simply watching from the stands, the rink has a way of bringing people together. It’s a place of camaraderie, creativity, and countless stories. For me, those stories are etched into the ice, a legacy of a childhood spent in motion and a family that lived to skate.

Image Descriptions

1. This photo captures a pivotal moment in my childhood, standing outside the ice rink that was such a big part of my life. My dad, always proud and supportive, insisted on preserving these moments, even when I wasn’t thrilled to pose for pictures. The iconic sculpture on the roof and the 1970s/very early 1980s cars in the background anchor this memory firmly in a time when skating was at the center of my world.
2. This image takes me back to endless hours of practice at the rink. My red skating outfit was one of my favorites, even though the effort to perfect my moves often felt like a grind. Seeing this picture now, I can feel the cool air of the rink and hear the sound of blades carving into the ice. It’s a reminder of the dedication my parents encouraged in me—and how those lessons shaped me.
3. This moment shows me sitting on the bench, caught in a mixture of annoyance and resignation as my dad snapped a photo. I vividly remember dreading any pictures, not to mention I was exhausted after a lesson and practice, but he insisted because he wanted these memories preserved. My red outfit and the plaid bag bring back so much—the feel of the skates, the smell of the rink, and the lessons in patience, both on and off the ice.

​©Diane Henriks

#nostalgia,#nostalgicmemories,#1970s,#1980s,#iceskating,#Genealogy,#familyhistory