The international significance of sliding downhill struck Americans like an avalanche about fifty years ago. Until then, snow had been something to be shoveled out of driveways in the morning. Then the Winter Olympics of 1932 were held at Lake Placid, New York, and a wonderful suicidal new would be opened up.
City dwellers read of strange and stirring deeds: bobsledders missing a turn and being scraped off the ice, skiers flying through the air to land on their skulls. The coach of the American team stated that the Winter Olympics were the biggest boost that skiing had ever had; that they should awaken American boys and girls to the possibilities of this wonderful, healthful sport. He was right—in the years that followed, three or four million American boys and girls strapped on skis, and the healthy snapping of bones was heard from Vermont to Colorado.
In February of 1960 the Winter Olympics returned to the United States, this time to remote Squaw Valley, California, in Sierra Nevada; where there had been only a lodge and two ski lifts, visitors found that a tiny metropolis had been developed. Early in the preceding December, everything was ready—except the snow. An agitated call was sent out for Piute Indians to dance for the weather gods.
“Snow fall in two weeks,” announced the chief when the ceremony was finished.
“Why not earlier, chief?”
“No chains for our bus,” he said, “Snow too soon, we not get home.”
1. The writer introduces the world of winter sports as __________.
2. “stirring deeds” means __________.
3. Holding the 1932 Winter Olympics in America served to __________.
4. Visitors arriving for the Olympics found __________.
5. The passage was written to __________.