Hello Mary Lu

Jump to Comments

Last Monday morning, March 26,2007, I received an email that Ron Jellse had passed away in his sleep at his home in Florida. It appears a heart attack took him from us. Ron had just celebrated his 70th birthday. In the intimate world of Artistic Roller Skating and Figure Skating news travels fast, especially now with the Internet, unlimited calling plans and cell phones at everyone’s fingertips.

For those of you who read my blog regularly you are completely unaware of who Ron Jellse was, or the impact he had on shaping my life. If you read this, you may get a clue. For those of you who knew me when I skated competitively and just stopped by because of Ron’s memorial site, you are not surprised at Ron’s influence on nearly everyone in Artistic Skating.

Ron Jellse left an impact the size of a crater on every skater he ever touched and I was no exception.

I began roller skating at the age of 5 and was enrolled in class lessons right away. I honestly can not remember life as a child when I wasn’t skating. Private lessons started at age 6 almost 7. My parents had this bright idea that skating would give me a safe place to channel my energy and a hobby. My father had skated ice and roller dance when he was young, so he encouraged me. Little did my parents realize what this “hobby” would do to my life.

Somewhere between the age of 7-8, I was first introduced to Ron Jellse and his mother, who owned Fernwood Roller Rink, in Peoria, IL. Ron came to our rink in Milan, IL to teach students in our club. Like most kids I had no idea who he was or why everyone at the rink was worshiping him, other than my father telling me that Ronnie was one of the best skaters in the world. I was childishly naive and for a variety of reasons that worked out to be a good thing. I was not yet into hero worship– but that would change.

Somewhere around this time it was decided that I should “audition” for skating lessons with Ron. It was explained to me that the important Mr. Ron Jellse only had so many time slots open for students when he came to our rink to teach. Ron would only take the very best. Skaters had to try out. They thought I might be ready– so I auditioned. For a variety of reasons the audition was a failure. However I will never forget how Ron broke the news to me; “Mary Lu, you’re skating very well, but you’re not ready yet. Keep practicing and taking your tests. You have potential. You can try again later.” It was the first time in my life I’d been given a “corrective sandwich,” and while it wasn’t the news my parents or I wanted to hear– it made me try harder. Lesson #1: If you really want something, you will have to work for it.

After the disappointment factor wore off, the determined, (read that stubborn) side of me started started to show up in my personality. I started demanding my parents take me to almost every practice whenever Ron was giving lessons at the rink. This caused a lot of family friction, because my father knew I could get hooked on skating. But I insisted on spending hours at the rink and practiced harder. I rail surfed by watching and listening as Ron was teaching the other skaters. I became a sponge and practiced what I gleaned. But the thing I didn’t see was that Ron was noticing. In between lessons, after skating a test or competitive program Ron would comment, correct and encourage me– which only fueled my drive even more. I wanted that damn lesson slot.

Then one winter morning, my teacher and a couple of Ron’s students had been unable to get to the rink because of a snow storm. I was on the floor promptly at 6AM getting ready for my lesson from another coach. Other than the rink owner, no one else was in the building. Ron approached me, coffee cup in hand, with the news that my teacher and his students were going to be very late, and asked if I would like a lesson? “I sure would!” was about all I could blurt out. In an hour he ran through every school figure I needed to skate that competitive season and tests. What amazed me was how differently he taught one-on-one, and how much fun he made school figures which I normally hated. He explained how I needed to show the judges complete control and be in command every time I skated in front of the judges. “You are being judged even before you take the floor, so act like a champion all the time. Take a breath and relax. Don’t rush the take-off. Make sure you are ready to skate, and the judges are ready to watch.” So we worked on presentation, command and control. “It’s you and the line. No one else is skating this figure but you. Don’t worry about your competition. Practice each figure every time as if you are going to skate it in a test or competition, so it feels natural all the time.” By the end of the lesson, he broke the news to me I had earned a lesson time with him, “You are a very strong figure and dance skater, but you will never be suited to freestyle. It’s fine for you to learn the jumps and spins, but never ever give up figures and dance. Promise me, okay?” Which I did. Lesson #2: A good coach is always honest with his students. and Lesson #3: Students never make promises to your coach you can not or will not keep.

While the news about freestyle wasn’t welcome, it was an honest evaluation. It turned out because I had taken several years of ballet at school, it helped my overall presentation immensely. American skaters were just beginning to use ballet to enhance their training. The ballet had developed my internal sense of body position, which made me a very controlled skater. While I was a decent practice skater, I excelled in competitions because I was in front of the fresh eyes of the judges and always took my time in figures to be prepared before striking off. In dance I always taller than everyone and appeared to be older than my competitors, which made it a royal pain for Ron or any teacher to find a good match in a dance partner until I was nearly 12. By then I had all ready passed my Bronze Medal and was well into my Silver tests in Dance, because I had to skate with the older boys or a teacher, and they expected me to keep up with them. When I look back, the mear fact I dodged the Juvenile Dance craze may have been a good thing. By skating with the more experienced skaters made me a strong dancer very quickly, and slingshot me into a dance higher division before I was old enough to skate what is now Freshmen Dance.

At 14 tragedy struck. I had continued to skate singles. While I could spin like a top and present my program cleanly, my jumps were not strong enough. One day while practicing a double jump, I didn’t get the necessary lift and landed in a twisted heap– smacking my knee solidly on the floor and twisting my ankle underneath me. I ended up sitting down on top of my rear wheel and promptly bruised my tail bone. I couldn’t bear any weight on my left leg. An ER visit later that night confirmed I had fractured the cartilage in my ankle, bruised my knee and tail bone. But the real news came completely out of left field when the doctors revealed I had tumor on my knee, complicated by a serious case of Osgood Slaughter Disease. And to top it off, I had chipped my kneecap. My parents were advised I was doing serious damage to my knee. If rehab and rest didn’t allow it to mend, I would need surgery. Skating came to a screeching halt.

To pull a skater who practiced 4-6 days a week, 2-4 hours a day completely off skates was devastating. To say the entire situation was depressing, would have been an understatement. But Ron pulled me aside to tell me I could always come back to skating. I’m honestly not sure he or any of the coaches believed it or not, considering the condition of my knee, but Ron remained positive. Ron encouraged me to direct my energies toward my studies and school work during my recovery and stay in shape. So during the next four years of rehab’ and surgeries, I thought like most mindless teenagers that Ron had forgotten me, but when I won the International Science and Engineering Fair and the NSF Scholarship, he sent me a note of congratulations as heartfelt as if I’d won Nationals, saying he was happy I’d done so well– along with a copy of the newspaper article. I was both shocked and flattered to know he cared. Lesson #4: Coaches need to be a complete positive influence on the student– both on and off skating.

When I returned to skating in college my parents were concerned I would undo all the surgeries and re damage my knee. I had to promise I would never do freestyle again. So I skated dance and figures. But skating forced me to manage my time and retain regular schedule with school. It kept me active and out of trouble most of the time. Ron’s hard work ethics and the good fundamental foundation that he and my other coaches had given me made coming back to skating easier and I excelled again but by then Ron had moved to Florida and I was either in school in Massachusetts or Iowa. However when given motive and opportunity I made every effort to work with him.

Over the years I attended many of Ron’s seminars. He always took a moment to say hello and catch up. I always sandwiched a lesson in before, during or after a seminar if we could find the time. Even when I was a student of another World Class coach, no one had a problem with the time I spent working with Ron, which was unusual in the day of “my student” coaches. Many times whomever was my current coach would be invited sit in on the lesson to hear was Ron had to say, with the hope they would work with me on what he did to adjust my figures or a dance. Ron was that well respected. Lesson #5: Students are people whom you may have life-long relationships. They are not just income.

As an adult, I appreciated the joy he brought to a lesson. I found his marriage to Nancy and the children Shawn and Roxanne had mellowed him for the better and the joy he found in teaching when he was young had returned. He would play “Remember when” while we were working a figure, just to see if I was doing something on muscle memory or not. When I repeated a mistake I’d made years ago, Ron would give me the… “I know YOU know better than that!” talk, which would come complete that mischievous grin and a reminder of exactly when he had supposedly broken me of that specific bad habit. He would jokingly remind me he still carried a pool cue with him and was ready to use it to show me what I was doing wrong. Then he would proceed into the most exaggerated, wacky postures to show the wrong way, dragging me along as I was supposed to hang on for dear life trying to do it right, everyone would crack up. The lesson was learned through humor. Ron had an encyclopedic memory like a steel trap.

While I have been coached by several of the top coaches in the USA over the years, few have ever come close to the Ron’s knowledge and ability to pass along the joy of skating to his students. His ability to recharge and redirect my focus was unlike anyone else. You will hear many of his students say “He always knew exactly what to say to motivate me to do my best.” As I’ve grown older and wiser, I realize this was one of his greatest gifts. Lesson #5: Coaches do not perform for the student, they motivate the student to focus and do their best.

A while back I spoke with Ron about the where Artistic Skating was headed, and what was happening in Figure Skating scene. When asked he would always give a honest opinion. I asked his guidance as I wondered if I should come back and skate, and may be coach again. He calmly listed my solid fundamental background, good teaching and judging skills, and ability to choreograph a program properly. In the end he encouraged me. But he also reminded me I should do when I was ready. When we parted, he had given me an honest answer and I felt positive that our conversation was an honest and productive one. We parted with a mutual promise to keep in touch and he invited us to drop by next time I was in Orlando. That was the last time we spoke.

Now that Ron’s gone I regret I won’t get talk to him again. However I think it’s time I get back into skating. It is one of the few things that has given me joy in my life. And I hope many of you who have been missing in action from the skating scene return too. The sport needs our knowledge and support more than ever.

All in all Ron Jellse grew up skating. He skated with, against or coached many of the best skaters in the sport over the span of his life. Several of his skaters including Colleen O’Connor and his son Shawn Jellse crossed over successfully to ice. Ron was not a flash-in-the-pan coach. He was totally involved in a sport he loved for his entire life. He was willing to do almost anything to help his skaters perform better. This is a fact that has finally been recognized as David Ripp, President of SkatesUS has announced the Giotto Loop skate, the skate Ron worked so hard to perfect with the Ripp’s will be named the Jellse Giotto Loop Skate in Ron’s honor. While Ron’s collection of “Sissy Pins” from National and World Champions could fill a closet, he was also proud of his contribution to the advancement of the sport and all the skaters he worked with who advanced to their potential.

My heartfelt sympathies go to Nancy, Shawn and Roxanne. Thank you for sharing him with all of us, especially now in your time of loss. We know you miss him beyond words. But we miss him too. Together we can grieve and out of that grief grow stronger together knowing Ron would have wanted all of us to carry on in the sport he loved so much.

It truly was an honor and blessing to know him. God Bless–

Any of you old, former skaters want to check in? Hit the Comments Key and let me know where you are! Your postings will not be made public unless you say I can post!

Technorati : Artistic Figure Skating, Jellse Giotto Loop Skate, Ron Jellse, Ronald Jellse, figure skating, roller skating
Del.icio.us : Artistic Figure Skating, Jellse Giotto Loop Skate, Ron Jellse, Ronald Jellse, figure skating, roller skating
Zooomr : Artistic Figure Skating, Jellse Giotto Loop Skate, Ron Jellse, Ronald Jellse, figure skating, roller skating
Buzznet : Artistic Figure Skating, Jellse Giotto Loop Skate, Ron Jellse, Ronald Jellse, figure skating, roller skating