(airy music) - [Narrator] His first name, Roy, reflects a sturdy American hero such as the Cowboy King, Roy Rogers.

His last name, Sherwood, calls to mind the forest where the fabled Robin Hood roamed.

Far from a home on the range and an ocean away from the generous outlaw, Roy Sherwood lived in a remote Connecticut town called Salisbury.

But he, likewise, became legendary.

Sherwood performed his mythical deeds soaring on skis from a tower affixed to a hill known as The Jump, first built in the 1920s by Norwegian immigrants.

Mid 20th century newsreel footage showcased to the world ski jumpers flying above thousands of winter pilgrims attracted to the magic taking place in the cozy snow globe community.

The tradition of winter flight grew richer over time.

The Jump turned into Salisbury's welcoming front porch, and Sherwood, its beloved hometown hero.

But by the first decade of the 21st century, New England weather had weakened the tower, endangering the winter fantasy.

Townspeople rallied in response, driven by small town grit and inspired by Sherwood himself, they declared, Let's Fly.

(attendees applauding) (airy music) (cameras clicking) (car engine humming) (camera clicking) (car engine humming) (gentle music) (spectators cheering and applauding) (car engine humming) (cameras clicking) (spectators applauding and cheering) (car engine humming) (bells chiming) (gentle music) (airy music) (skis gliding) (airy music) - The sport of ski jumping, when you watch it, when you see people in this day and age that are jumping 250 meters, and you think about that, you're covering over two and a half football fields in the air without a parachute, landing on skis and skiing away from it.

There's no other sport in the world that can contend with that.

- [Narrator] There are few communities anywhere that can rival the profound and mystical bond between ski jumping and Salisbury, a town of 4,000 residents.

- The ski jumps are somewhat iconic to Salisbury because of the length of time it's been here and the number of people who have been involved on an emotional level, personally, their family members or so forth.

It's like a family member, I believe, to a lot of people.

- [Narrator] Ski jumping arrived in Salisbury directly from Norway, the birthplace of the sport.

- [Reporter] Norway, three quarters of its land not fit to farm.

Three quarters of a million Norwegians left.

- [Narrator] Tucked between New York and Massachusetts where the Appalachian Trail passes through, the region's Meadows, lakes and hills reflect the Norwegian landscape.

In 1923, John Satre joined 800,000 Norwegians who migrated to the United States between the 19th and 20th centuries.

Over the next six years, John would be joined by his mother, two sisters and four younger brothers.

A Salisbury resident hired John as a driver while his brothers found work as laborers or house painters.

After the first snowfall of winter, John, Olaf, Magnus, Ottar and Sverre Satre demonstrated the Nordic spirit of winter to their new hometown.

And that included ski jumping.

In 1926, John astonished 200 spectators in Salisbury by ski jumping from a barn roof, introducing a spectacle familiar in Norway, but unknown locally.

Within a year, the Satres constructed a ramp on donated land, organized the first competition, and founded the Salisbury Outing Club to host ski jumping events.

The town embraced Nordic sports, thanks to the Satre family and other Scandinavian immigrants raised on cross-country skiing and ski jumping in their hometowns.

- I guess the fact that it was so brand new and had never even been thought of by local people here in New England.

There had been jumping out in Michigan, and Minnesota and Wisconsin from about 1910 when a lot of Norwegians and Swedes went out there to work in the mines and work in the woods.

- [Narrator] In 1930, Oto Hegge, a Norwegian cross-country skier who competed in the 1928 Winter Olympics, moved to Salisbury.

He collaborated with the Satre brothers to improve the rustic ski jump and develop a cross-country trail to attract competitions and train young athletes.

Local athletes showed potential for excellence in Nordic sports, even before Hegge arrived.

Richard Parsons became the first Salisbury resident to earn recognition for cross-country skills.

Neighbors cheerfully watched Parsons ski on roads during snowstorms before the plows arrived.

In 1927, his school classmates wrote a letter applauding his performances.

In 1932, Salisbury conducted the United States Olympic trials for Nordic events, drawing thousands of spectators.

The following year, The Jump hosted the national championships.

It didn't take long to land an American-born Salisbury resident on the US Olympic team.

Parsons earned a spot for the 1932 Lake Placid games alongside local Swedish immigrant, Olle Zetterstrom.

Parsons finished 15th in the 50 kilometer and 28th in the 18 kilometer races, just behind Zetterstrom.

By 1933, the Satre brothers had become leading figures of Nordic sports, winning numerous championships and popularizing ski jumping in the United States.

(airy music) Tragically, Salisbury's winter fairy tale shattered when John Satre died in a car accident on August 17th, 1934, at age 40.

"The New York Times" hailed him as a pioneer in US skiing.

His legacy endured in the vibrant winter sports culture he nurtured in Salisbury and elsewhere.

(airy music) In 1936, Parsons returned to the Winter Olympics in Garmisch Germany as the leading American born cross-country skier.

Ottar and Magnus Satre, and fellow Norwegian immigrant, Birger Torrissen, of the Norfolk Winter Sports Association, joined him.

Despite backlash for refusing to perform the Olympic salute due to its resemblance to the Nazi gesture, the Americans sharpened their international credentials.

(upbeat music) Ski jumping surged in popularity during the 1930s.

The Norfolk Winter Sports Association carved a ski jump into a mountain near Salisbury.

In February, 1934, Otar Satre won a competition there against the best jumpers in North America.

- Hello, everybody.

I'm very pleased I won here today.

I did 170 feet on my first jump.

Thank you.

- [Narrator] Meanwhile, a ski jumper constructed a tower between Colbrook and Winstead, 20 miles to the east of Salisbury.

65 miles to the south, the New Haven Arena installed temporary jumps, captivating city residents who read newspaper accounts about the wonders unfolding in the northern hills of Connecticut.

Only Salisbury's jump survived the decade.

That changed in 1941 when America entered World War II.

The conflict stopped ski jumping for the duration, jeopardizing the town's emerging tradition as the original ramp, and the land on which it stood were left fallow.

- War came, and any young men that wanted to jump and anyone who was healthy and so on just left town and there wasn't any jumping, and the grass grew and the weeds grew up and the brush started to grow on the landing hill.

- [Narrator] Four years earlier in 1937 on Conkling Street in Salisbury, Charles Sherwood built a small ski jump for his five-year-old twin sons, Bill and Roy.

(airy music) Ski jumping would become central to Roy Sherwood after he first took flight off the improvised ramp his father built in their front yard.

- We had a little hill, put an orange crate out there, and he had us all jumping right on the front yard, you know, walk out the front door and go ski jumping.

You know?

And then in those days, we had a lot of snow, and every little hill in town, every hill in town had a ski jump, 'cause there wasn't no rope tows.

And so you either went cross-country skiing or you ski jumped.

And of course, I didn't care for cross-country skiing, although I did it and did very well at it, the few times I did run it, but I liked to fly.

- [Narrator] It became his life's work, pushing Salisbury's greatest ski jumper to overcome broken bones and even a debilitating disease that threatened his ambitions on the eve of the world's most important competition.

He stood on towers with the top ski jumpers of his day.

But he always returned to the small town in northwestern Connecticut, he called home.

(airy music) (bright music) After World War II, ski jumping returned to Salisbury.

Roy Sherwood, his twin brother Bill, and their brother Charles, nicknamed Stubby, joined boyhood friends to save what remained of the rustic jump.

They were in their teens.

By 1947, they had finished repairs to the old Satre jump to prepare for competition.

They reformed the Salisbury Outing Club and renamed it the Salisbury Winter Sports Association, known locally as SWSA.

The group would be run by volunteers to operate and maintain The Jump funded by donations from town residents, businesses, and annual competitions.

Roy Sherwood won an entry level event on The Jump in 1947, reinforcing his sharp competitive instincts.

- That was the beginning.

That was nice to win, you know?

You know, I still have my silver ski from that tournament, my first trophy.

(bright music) - [Narrator] More trophies soon followed even as competition intensified and the towers loomed taller.

He faced this challenge without a coach, even though the Satre family who brought ski jumping to Salisbury decades earlier still lived in town.

- But I knew what exactly what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it.

I always watched my competition.

- [Narrator] Collegiate and prep school ski jumping grew over the first half of the 20th century with some institutions featuring their own jumps.

Sherwood charted a path of his own.

At 15, he dropped out of high school and briefly ran away from home.

Determined to find a job that would allow him to continue ski jumping, Sherwood found work with the Salisbury Highway Department.

He pedaled a bike 11 miles from home to the town garage to punch in, among other tasks.

He drove snowplows when not competing.

- I went to work for, the boss of the Highway Department, was a skier, had been a skier, and his son was a ski jumper.

And they gave me a job knowing that in the wintertime when I should be out plowing snow, I would be ski jumping.

It worked out fine in the long run.

- [Narrator] The Sherwoods emerged as the first family of ski jumping, with Roy, Stubby and Bill becoming idols for the town's children who took up the sport.

- We had a lot of role models when I was a kid.

And sort of segueing from the Norwegians, we had some of our own people like Roy Sherwood, all the Sherwood brothers.

There was a guy, Red Decker.

There were a lot of kids, they were older than us, but a lot of people that had followed the footsteps, the ski tracks of the Scandinavians that were here.

So we had our own sort of set of heroes.

- [Narrator] Children and teens in small remote towns rarely saw their heroes in action.

But in Salisbury, they observed top ski jumpers fly up close.

Homegrown ski jumps popped up everywhere, deep in the region's rugged hills.

- They were out in the woods, and there were actually towers built around.

And we all would build ski jumps in our backyards on little hills with doors.

We'd put doors down or hay bales and put snow over.

And we just jumped every chance we possibly could.

- [Narrator] Between 1950 and 1952, the Salisbury Winter Sports Association replaced the temporary post-war jump with a sturdier tower framed by telephone poles and braced by seasoned lumber.

It rose some 300 feet above the landing area or the outrun, and earned high marks for the distance the athletes could fly from takeoff to the point where the landing area flattened.

(airy music) (bright music) Motivated by the association's annual winter jumping event, many town residents and friends from the region volunteered to help.

They packed and groomed snow on the in-run, the steep path from the top of the tower to the takeoff point, and on the outrun.

In 1952, The Jump hosted the Eastern National Championships, marking the first major event there since 1933.

By the mid 1950s, the Salisbury Winter Sports Association and its ski jump reflected the spirit of community pride.

Roy Sherwood competed as the conquering hometown hero, cheered for the length of his jumps and his sturdy landings.

He delighted in the precious airborne moments during each jump.

- Oh, what a dream, what a dream of float.

Float, float, float, you know?

And it's a thrill, you know?

You have to feel for it.

And it just second an nature to me to get out there in the air and just float.

You know, I can still, I wake up in the middle of the night out of a dream that I was ski jumping, you know?

And headed towards the bottom of the hill and wake up.

(laughs) (bright music) - [Narrator] In 1954, the 21-year-old Sherwood finished his ascent from a makeshift jump in his front yard in Salisbury to the National Ski Jumping Championship.

The title secured his place representing the United States at the 1956 Winter Olympics in Cortina, Italy.

The town rejoiced in his achievement.

(gentle music) Then reality struck.

Just a year before the games, Sherwood was diagnosed with polio, fearful that his leg muscles would waste away or that he would become paralyzed, doctors sent him 55 miles east to McCook Hospital in Hartford.

- The nurse came in and said, "Who are you anyway?"

And I said, "I'm just Roy Sherwood."

"Well, the newspapers are calling, wanna know how you're in shape."

And I said, "Well, I'm on the Olympic team."

And I said, "Tell 'em I'm gonna be on the Olympic team.

Both my feet are moving.

I'll be there."

- [Narrator] Sherwood mustered the strength to exercise his legs and vowed to recover quickly, to jump in the Olympics.

- So I just worked at it constantly, and that was in my mind that I was gonna go to Cortina, Italy.

- [Narrator] He remembered the doctor who mended his injured knee after a harsh landing earlier in the 1950s.

- She was with the paratroopers during the Second World War.

So she knew all about knee accidents, you know 'cause the paratroopers were always busting their knees up.

And thank God for her, she got me in Poughkeepsie and she told me how to strengthen your knees by just tighten your muscles and hold it for a count of 10 and relax.

And I could build up my leg just laying in bed.

- [Narrator] Sherwood recovered.

He boarded the Team USA flight to Corina.

(gentle music) (airy music) Staying in the Olympic Village with his teammates, Sherwood took in the sights of the city, known as the Queen of the Dolomites in Northern Italy.

The 1956 Olympic Games unfolded in that storybook setting.

(patriotic music) (airy music) Even amid the pageantry, the gods of Olympus conspired against the jumper from Salisbury, forging another malicious test of strength for him.

During a practice jump, Sherwood skis caught on a lumpy patch of snow, causing him to tumble and injure a leg.

- I ended up in bed for a day, and they weren't gonna let me jump.

- [Narrator] Sherwood's teammates devised a plan to test his leg, giving him a chance at competing if it held up.

They proposed, he serve as a forerunner for the Nordic combined ski jumping segment, assessing a jump's safety before competition began to see if he could fly off the Olympic tower without issue.

- And they said, "Well, Roy, why don't you forerun it and see how how your legs are doing, how your leg is doing."

I said, "Okay."

So fine, I forerun it, and was fine.

And next day I was on the team.

Next day I was on the team.

(bright music) - [Narrator] Sherwood finished 36th, the second highest American behind Art Devlin from Lake Placid.

Sherwood married his first wife, Phyllis Germond, in 1951.

And together they had two daughters, Kim Louise and Merrilee.

While Sherwood competed and trained globally, Phyllis and her family cared for the children.

- My first wife was a very lovely lady, and I had great in-laws.

And they were very, very, very, very wonderful to me that my wife could live with them while I was off ski jumping for three months, so.

- [Narrator] Merrilee watched her father jump in the northeast, but only came to understand the sport as she grew older.

- They have told me my dad was on the limping team.

He wasn't on the Olympic team.

I've been very proud of him ever since.

And since then, I've grown to know what an honor that was for this small town boy going all the way to the Olympics.

It's been wonderful.

(bright music) - [Narrator] The national championship and participation in the Cortina Olympics launched Sherwood to the rarefied air of mid-century celebrity status.

- When I was a young girl, I had the privilege of watching Roy Sherwood jump, and I knew he was a star.

We all did.

- [Narrator] Even the most popular television personality of the day sought him out.

Just three days before Christmas in 1957, Sherwood appeared on the "Ed Sullivan Show," the iconic Sunday night variety program on CBS that introduced Elvis Presley to the world the previous year.

This time Sullivan would introduce Sherwood and Salisbury to more than 11 million viewers.

- In concert with "Sports Illustrated" and the International Federation of Skiers, the greatest skiers in the world, so we're gonna call him down this slide here.

Now, this is the most amazing thing to attempt and only the greatest could do it.

From Salisbury, Connecticut, the Olympic star and the United States National champion, 1954, Roy Sherwood.

(bright music) (audience applauding) (airy music) - [Narrator] At the same time, promoters equally invited him to compete in European events featuring the world's best ski jumpers.

(airy music) (bright music) In March, 1959, Sherwood tested the ski jump constructed for the 1960 Squaw Valley Winter Olympics in California.

- That was a great experience in '59 out there.

The only two people that beat me were two Fins.

(laughs) - [Narrator] Sherwood continued to compete into the early 1970s.

After retiring, he coached and served as a judge for the Nordic Sports Competitions.

In 1980, he evaluated ski jumpers for their form in the air and landings during the Lake Placid Winter Games.

Ironically, Sherwood never jumped in Norway, the homeland of the Satre family.

- I didn't do too bad for the shape that I was in and, you know, was having polio and everything else.

I was very proud of what I did.

It wasn't bad for a little boy from Salisbury, Connecticut.

(gentle music) (airy music) - [Narrator] On February 4th, 1951, the Salisbury Winter Sports Association held a ski jumping competition featuring the top jumpers in the East.

Four jumpers skied to the landing area, carrying American flags to start the event.

Thousands cheered.

(spectators cheering) 11 months earlier, Salisbury designated the land where the jump stood as the John Satre Memorial Hill.

Other first generation Norwegian immigrants with Salisbury connections left a consequential imprint as well.

Ottar Satre, Birger Torrissen and Oto Hegge entered the US Ski and Snowboard Hall of Fame over the years.

Magnus Satre did too.

(gentle music) By mid-century, Nordic sports in the fashion they inspired spread from winter resorts made famous in movies to remote towns like Salisbury.

In the 1950s, thousands of dapper spectators eager to watch the athletes of winter fly travelled to Salisbury.

(gentle music) The resourceful Salisbury Winter Sports Association pursued creative ideas to raise money to maintain The Jump and deepen community ties.

(lively music) For a town parade, they crafted a model of The Jump, bolted a tiny figure of a ski jumper on the takeoff point and raffled off the car that towed it.

(lively music) With national newsreel cameras rolling in 1954, the group held a summer ski jumping contest showcasing their capacity to do anything at any time, to raise money to keep The Jump in top condition.

By the 2000s, the crowds were smaller than those half a century earlier, but The Jump remained inseparable from Salisbury's cultural identity.

Over the years, the gear to fly evolved from traditional natural fibers and wood to synthetics and lightweight plastic.

The innovations boosted speed on The Jump and improved flight distances once airborne.

One element remained the same: volunteers tackled the grueling task of packing and grooming snow on The Jump.

(airy music) As the 21st century advanced, the tower began to show its age.

The old pilings creaked during jumps, and the wind that buffeted the structure nudged it from side to side.

Leaders of the Salisbury Winter Sports Association feared it would collapse.

- I had been president at that point for five years, and we'd all talked about that we needed a new tower before the old one fell down.

There were no ifs, ands or buts about it, we knew it was only gonna be a matter of time.

(airy music) - In 2008 when all our local guys who were just there every year to snow the hill and the landing hill and the outrun and everything, when they came off of that and we had our directors meeting following that event, they were saying, you know, the tower's swaying so much in the wind after that last time that they said they weren't gonna go up on top of that tower again to snow the tower.

So it was obvious that we either needed to fix it permanently or replace it.

- [Narrator] Remarkably, a magical confluence occurred echoing the historic moment in 1923 when John Satre moved to town from Norway.

During the 2009 US Ski and Snowboard Eastern Regional meeting in Brattleboro, Vermont, officials surprised Salisbury Winter Sports Association president, Ken Barker, with The Jump host the 2011 Junior Olympics.

They attached one condition to the offer: construct a regulation 70 meter tower.

- Lebanon, New Hampshire decided they did not wanna do it again.

They had done it three years prior to that and they were not interested in putting in a bid.

And all heads kind of turned my way at the table and said, "The only way you can do this is if you build a new tower."

And not probably thinking about it too hard, I said, "Well, yeah, I think we can do that within two years."

And on my ride home, I started really thinking to myself, "Well, that might not have been the smartest thing you ever said."

- [Narrator] Facing a February, 2011, deadline to build a new tower for hosting the premier event for American Ski jumpers under 18, the implausible scale of the task ahead emerged.

The project would cost $750,000, requiring the group to raise an amount of money unprecedented in their history.

Moreover, they would have to approve a design, hire a contractor and demolish the existing tower before building a new one, all within about a year.

- I wasn't convinced that that would be successful.

There was some jumps up in Northern Vermont and Northern New Hampshire that were raising money, and took them several years to raise the money to replace the jumps.

So I was a little bit doubtful, but hopeful.

- The next Wednesday meeting I just kinda said, you know, if we wanna do this, we need to do this.

If we wanna have continuation of the club, continuation of jumping in Salisbury in general, we really don't, we are at the point we don't have a choice.

Probably 80% of them looked at me and told me I was nuts.

20% said, "Yeah, we could probably do this."

And we sort of forged on from there.

- [Narrator] Confronted with the choice to continue flying in Salisbury or shutting down The Jump for good, the group leaned on a storied past and positive attitude to stare down the daunting odds stacked against them.

- One of the things I love about the organization is nothing's impossible.

You know, we came down one day and a tree had fallen on one of the guidelines on the tower.

So the whole tower had gone, (imitates creaking), you know, and everybody, we all just looked at it and laughed and worked out how to bring it back more or less straight.

And life goes on.

And, you know, nothing fazes us.

We'll get it done somehow.

- [Narrator] The board of directors proceeded with the proposal to build a new tower.

However, the thought of quickly raising the money to pay for it led to more than a few sleepless nights.

(airy music) A sense of urgency drove and haunted the board.

The 2010 Eastern Regional competition and the annual Jump Fest Winter Carnival could well be the last time flying would take place in Salisbury.

- Then the next ball started rolling about how are we gonna fundraise for this?

You know, how are we gonna pay for this?

Are we gonna take out loans for this?

Is everybody within the town and the surrounding area and the ski jumping community gonna be willing to financially help us with this?

- [Narrator] Salisbury residents had rallied around The Jump before when rain washed away snow the night before a competition years earlier, they stepped up.

- The town knew that we were short on snow, and they were turning up in their pickup trucks with snow that they'd got outta their yard for us.

I mean, that's sort of support we get from the town, which is, you know, fantastic, yeah.

- And the one thing about Salisbury Winter Sports Association is that it is a can-do organization.

When they were challenged to build a new tower, they said, "Let's do it."

When we were offered the Junior Olympics, we said, "Sure."

When I was asked to organize it, I said, "Okay."

There's an incredible group of people.

The volunteerism, the whole culture of volunteerism in this town is amazing.

- [Narrator] To help meet their goal, the group enlisted Salisbury fundraising consultant, Rosina Rand, who as a young fan watched Roy Sherwood jump.

- I fell in love with the Salisbury Winter Sports Association and what it was trying to do.

I have never worked with a group that has such a can-do attitude.

(airy music) - [Narrator] The spirit of Salisbury kicked in at a town meeting, convened to discuss the new jump and a proposal for the local government to guarantee a portion of the funds if donations fell short.

On a frigid February night in 2010 with church bells ringing intermittently throughout the evening, the community gathered for an informational session at Town Hall where directors outlined the plan.

- It turned into a love fest.

People got up one after another and spoke about what SWSA meant to them, their children who had been jumpers, just what The Jump's meant to the town financially, what it's meant for businesses.

And for literally an hour and a half people just spoke on our behalf.

It was a very moving experience for us directors.

- There was some very heartfelt thank yous for what we have done and encouragement for what we wanted to do.

And we were just, some of us longtime directors were blown away by the support.

- [Community Member 1] I just like to say, I've lived here for 28 years, and I love this town.

And it takes a lot of things to make up a town.

A town isn't just one entity or another entity or the environment.

And I think SWSA and ski jump are such a huge part of the sort of folk culture and tradition of our community that anything that we did to support them would be supporting the whole identity of our town and the history of our town.

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

(attendees applauding) - But most importantly, I'm always amazed when it is time for jumps, these guys don't go to work and they go up to the hill and they pack snow on there.

And when I heard about the new jumps, I thought about sort of their motto when they get the ski jumps ready.

And that is, I can do it and I will do it.

And I think they can do this and I know they will do it.

(attendees laughing) (attendees applauding) - I'm Caroline Gilbert, and my son Caleb is one of the current SWSA of jumpers.

He turned nine on jumps weekend and he started jumping last year in one of the Christmas camps.

And the experience of ski jumping and being part of SWSA is something that is truly unique.

And it's not necessarily about the jumping, it's about courage, determination, perseverance, all of those things that you want your children to learn.

And Caleb and all the kids that have done the Jump camp, whether they've continued on, have learned those things.

- [Narrator] Several minutes into the public comments, an electrifying moment occurred.

- And Roy Sherwood stood up and made a very, very important significant pledge.

So everyone saw his leadership and thought, wow, this really can happen.

- Yeah, I don't know if everybody knows me or not, but I'm Roy Sherwood and I- (audience applauding) I've always been proud of Salisbury, and I've spread the name very honorably all over the United States and Europe.

So I think we should go along with the Board of Finance and get money out.

And if I have to donate some more money, I will.

(attendees laughing) I gave $50,000.

I guarantee another 50 in five years.

(attendees applauding) - Is there second to that resolution?

- Second.

- Second.

- Very well, we will move to comment or questions.

- [Narrator] On another cold winter's night, a week later, townspeople gathered to vote on acting as a financial backstop for the project.

Town First Selectman, Curtis Rand, moved the meeting to a nearby church because town hall did not have enough room.

- Before I give you the results of the ballot on first resolution, I'd like to thank those people who have donated to this cause with a quarter and a dollar.

(attendees laughing) (attendees applauding and cheering) This can go to the town.

(attendees chattering indistinctly) (attendees applauding) (attendee speaking indistinctly) The result of the ballot is as follows.

Yes, 141.

No, 2.

(attendees applauding) - Who could say no to this?

What's wrong with it?

And it involves a great momentum of effort, and energy and people pulling together.

It involves, in the case of the Junior Olympics, it involved our whole national sports heritage and our competition.

And if we could be part of that, what a great thing.

So, and I think that wasn't lost on our residents.

- [Narrator] Donations poured in.

The fundraising effort exceeded the goal in under eight months, making the town's guarantee welcome but ultimately unnecessary.

To build the tower, the Salisbury Winter Sports Association chose Churchill Brothers builders, later known as the Churchill Building Company.

The firm faced a task that defied reality, demolish the old wooden jump, prepare the hill and erect a new jump all within nine months.

- So that start date, you know, was approaching and then passed.

And then in a matter of weeks, you know, later they said, "Okay, we're good to go."

And I said, "Well, you know it's like only nine months?"

And I said, "That's right, nine months, so, (laughs) so let's do it."

- [Narrator] In an unexpected turn, snow, not the tight deadline, turned out to be the most significant obstacle.

- It snowed more than any other year.

We spent more time shoveling and moving snow than we did building a ski jump.

- [Narrator] Normally house builders, the company found unique satisfaction in constructing a community landmark.

(gentle music) - I am glad we did it.

The reason we did it exists today.

And that was, it's unique.

And we wanted something for the community, something... We build houses.

And, you know, these houses sell, they change owners.

This isn't gonna change owners.

This is in the town.

So my brother and I are third generation builders.

We see projects that our father did and our grandfather did.

Now our kids can see something significant like that.

- We appealed to the people in this town, and we received gifts from literally a dollar to a hundred thousand dollars from individuals.

And we raised the money, we raised the $700,000 we needed to build the tower, and we built it.

- [Narrator] Sherwood donated funds for both the new jump and the judge's tower, which honors the name of his late second wife, Louise Archibald Sherwood.

(upbeat music) With the traditional cauldron ablaze on February 22nd, 2011, the Junior Olympics opened in Salisbury.

The next day competition began with ski jumping, and the Nordic combined featuring 53 athletes from across the United States soaring off the new tower.

Mohawk Mountain in nearby Cornwall, Connecticut, hosted the cross-country piece of the Nordic combined.

The athletes received medals against the backdrop of the tower that saved ski jumping in Salisbury, thanks to a community determined to see the tradition of flying in winter thrive for generations to come.

(patriotic music) - It was mentioned to me from a lady in Lake Placid that she said, "This will be hard for you to imagine."

But the three best places everybody wants to go in the country now are Lake Placid, Salisbury and Brattleboro, Vermont.

- [Narrator] Every five years, Salisbury hosts the event now called the Junior Nationals, welcoming young jumpers from across the United States to the small town.

(upbeat music) From the 1950s to the 21st century, the ski jump became a wellspring of community and family generational pride.

- I got involved because of my parents 'cause they were very active in it.

George Kiefer and Weesie Keifer.

And they always were helping and I watched them help.

And they were helping us kids in coaching or driving us kids around.

And then the next thing I know is there would be ski jump meetings here in my dad's kitchen, George Kiefer's kitchen.

And it was just a great bunch of people.

- [Narrator] The Salisbury Winter Sports Association built 20 meter and 30 meter jumps in the 1950s to serve as teaching platforms for children and teenagers who wanted to fly.

The small hills fostered confidence in young jumpers when the time arrived for them to challenge the 70 meter jump that rose above them.

Legendary ski jumper, Larry Stone of Salisbury, who would later serve as US ski team coach embodied the town's dedication to young athletes.

He once tracked down two teams who steered a toboggan down The Jump and convinced them to try ski jumping instead.

They did, and went on to become successful in the sport.

(bright music) Lessons in how to fly on skis have been conducted at The Jump from the 1920s, through the golden age of the sport in the 1950s and on through the 21st century.

For decades, the Association has offered day camps during Christmas break from school.

Parents watch as their children take turns learning to ski jump.

- The sensation of flying is awesome.

It's like nothing you've ever imagined.

It's like having your own wings almost.

It's really cool.

- It's amazing feeling.

You are just soaring through there.

And I, in a, and it's just a few split seconds of this amazing feeling that you're in the air.

- I really like ski jumping because when you're in the air, it makes you wanna come back again.

(skis gliding) - [Coach] Jump.

No, no, no.

(bright music) - What has gotten me into ski jumping was when I was young, I watched the Olympics and I saw the men flying through the air and was hooked.

- As a coach, I'm excited for these kids.

I want them to experience what I experience.

I want them to experience the travel.

I want them to develop the self-esteem that ski jumping can give you.

You stand at the bottom of those large hills when you're five years old and you think, good Lord, there's no way I'll ever be able to do something like that.

And within four or five years, if you apply yourself, you are, and you learn a lesson from that.

- [Narrator] In 2024, Salisbury affirmed its commitment to novice ski jumpers by planning to replace the 30 meter hill sandwiched between the 20 meter and 70 meter jumps.

Once again, the town united to champion the project.

(bright music) The new jump did not end the old grind for many volunteers with tools common to countryside life, such as a corn blower, shovels and rakes, they faced into winter and prepared John Satre Memorial Hill for Jump Fest, the annual Nordic competition and town block party.

(bright music) (machine scraping) (bright music) (machine humming) (airy music) (upbeat music) (upbeat music) (skis gliding) (airy music) With the hill carefully prepared, the festival celebrates Salisbury, where ski jumping is deeply rooted in the town soil, snow and soul.

(airy music) (people chattering indistinctly) (bells clinking) (spectators cheering) (airy music) (spectators laughing) (gentle music) New Englander, Ralph Waldo Emerson, described the aftermath of winter storms as the frolic architecture of the snow.

In Salisbury, Norwegian immigrants and a local boy named Roy Sherwood lived Emerson's vision.

Generations to come would follow in their tracks, soaring from The Jump when winter arrives.

- It says something about the community and the sport itself.

The combination has just, the recipe was perfect.

And so we continue.

- And we're gonna keep it going forever.

Snowmaking, we don't care if we get sunshine all year round.

It's to 80 degrees, we'll put plastic on the hill, we'll have ski jumping, you know?

We'll have ski jumping in Salisbury forever.

(gentle music) (gentle music) - [Roy] Wow.

What a day!

- [Narrator] Decades after his last competition, Roy Sherwood moved to a house near the bottom of The Jump.

He often walked to the majestic tower and reflect on the magic of Salisbury's noble campaign to preserve its prized tradition of ski jumping.

He pictured himself on skis, framed by fresh snow under bright skies, hurdling to the takeoff point and floating in the air.

A perfect day, a bluebird day, forever in his hometown.

(gentle music) - Oh, God.

Memories.

You know, somebody said you can't live with memories.

I said I couldn't live without 'em.

That's for sure.

Without great memories I've had, my God almighty.

(gentle music) (gentle music) - What a day.

What a day.

(gentle music) A bluebird day.

That's what it is.

(gentle music) It's a bluebird day.

(music ends) (gentle music) Old ski jumping song is they drink until they're blue and then they all get through the pose and pulls of string and they all begin to sing.

(singing in foreign language) ♪ Underneath the takeoff, every Sunday morning ♪ ♪ Jump and cheers ♪ ♪ Jump and show their form ♪ ♪ All the big and small ♪ ♪ Small and big all come, jets and skiers breaking ♪ ♪ And when they jump through the pulls the string in ♪ ♪ They all begin to sing ♪ ♪ And it's yeah, yeah ♪ ♪ Please go off.

♪