Kate Tellers Reflects on an Unforgettable Workshop
As soon as the submissions started rolling in for our virtual storytelling workshop with Sun Valley, Idaho I knew that it was going to be a good one. Prior to the pandemic my work with The Moth as Director of MothWorks had me hopping cities, and while I appreciated a reprieve from long airport security lines (I actually stopped buying shoes that tied so that I could get through them more quickly), I've missed the thrill of getting to know a new location through its people. We received stories from a mix of Sun Valley enthusiasts who I was eager to meet (on Zoom).
In our workshops, storytellers share their stories one by one and receive feedback from us at The Moth and their fellow participants. The only requirement for our Sun Valley workshop was that the location be a part of the story. But very quickly other commonalities started coming through.
Chris Polaszek revealed that he pulled a Sun Valley brochure out of the garbage while making coffee as a disillusioned young lawyer in Florida. He described his search for the perfect mountain town and the awe he felt looking up at Bald Mountain for the first time. He said it felt like dejà vu.
“I could feel the presence of the mountain and the warm glow of the sun on my face while I’m looking up at Baldy. I said to myself, 'I’m done looking. I don’t need to search anymore. I have found my home.'”
Feeling a near-instant sense of belonging was true for almost everyone in our workshop. The first time they arrived, they knew it wouldn’t be their last.
As a graduate student, Duella Hull learned Ernest Hemingway was buried in Ketchum Cemetery. One Thursday after class she gathered her camping gear and a manual typewriter and started driving.
“I spent two days exploring the area and sitting on his grave drinking gin and tonics from a thermos and writing a paper about For Whom The Bell Tolls and Robert Jordan.”
Affectionately referred to as “Papa” by many in the Wood River Valley, Hemingway’s legacy was central to how Duella saw her own personal growth. What does it mean to stand in a place where your idol once stood, long after they’re gone?
The more each teller shared, the more connections were uncovered. Affirming nods told me the glint of falling leaves known as the “Sun Valley Shimmer” and the strained yet triumphant “Sun Valley Smile” worn by amateurs and athletes alike after an active day were familiar to each person in the room.
For some, Sun Valley presented the opportunity to begin again. Stephanie Spindler arrived at 19 and never left. It was easy to be drawn in by the glamour and wealth, she told us. Olympians and famous actors were regulars at the ski lodge where she worked. But as Stephanie established roots in Sun Valley, her true purpose changed.
“I’ve been here for 25 years…I had a lot of fun experiences riding on the coattails of others. Then, I started teaching and I realized that I wanted more than just a fun lifestyle."
Every storyteller was drawn to this place for different reasons — the ski slopes, the rich history, the great outdoors — but they all returned for the same one. The spirit of Sun Valley captivated them and they felt at home.
Hearing these stories, Sun Valley came alive for me. The mountain, the hiking trails, the vibrant scenery, and the pursuit of something deeper made a place I have never been to feel three-dimensional.
Sometime soon, I hope to be slipping off my shoes at security, headed to check out Sun Valley for myself.