But a very big deal it surely was— arguably one of the most significant dates in our industry’s history and the day when we started to grow up. It was to result in an astonishingly good safety record for uphill transportation at ski resorts; mercifully, it would keep the government out of our standards-setting procedures; it would allow brilliant technical innovation in a way that Europe’s government-regulated codes could not and did not. A case in point: The world’s first detachable quad was installed in the U.S. because European codes at the time did not permit that technology.
Originally, work on the project had been initiated in 1957 by the Eastern Ski Area Operators Association (ESAOA). Prime mover was Frank Sterritte, whose boss, C. V. Starr, had recently bought the Mt. Mansfield Company in Stowe, Vt. Starr was also the founder and CEO of the giant insurance company, American International Group (AIG). The story line quickly takes shape.
Sterritte had no trouble seeing the inevitable crossing of the ski resort and insurance paths. At this time of rapid growth in uphill transportation at ski areas, he understood how vulnerable ski areas would be without some design and operational standards, and it was for good reasons he wanted voluntary standards, not ones imposed by common carrier provisions of federal law.
Over the next three years, ESAOA labored mightily over endless drafts; the final text was circulated for ballot in 1959 and was approved in June 1960.
Two years later, National Ski Areas Association (NSAA) was formed and high on its agenda were lift safety and insurance. To bring some stability to what was then a volatile insurance market, NSAA quickly appointed the brokerage firm of Lukens, Savage & Washburn to form the NSAA Group Insurance Program. Fundamental to this program was an engineering inspection based on the ASA Code (later to become the ANSI Standard). Robert Kinney, of Kinney-Turner Associates, Trenton, NJ., whose tramway experience had been gained as an engineer for Roebling, was given the job of designing the inspection criteria and of handling the inspections.
These moves proved to be critical ones and Kinney an inspired choice. Quite apart from his professional skills as a tramway engineer, he quickly earned a reputation for total fairness. Even more importantly, he came to be known, not as the inspection engineer who just finds fault and says “No,” but rather as the inventive problem-solver who shows areas how they can save money and at the same time conform to the standard. One area, for instance, saved thousands of dollars on sheave liners that wore out because, as Kinney pointed out, the counterweight for the lift far exceeded the manufacturer’s specifications.
Right from the start, Kinney inspired confidence and it produced results. The famously fussy Forest Service, for instance, quickly adopted his inspections for the Rocky Mountain region.
Clearly, the existence of the B77 Standard was exerting a profound influence on the ski world, as jurisdictions began to adopt its provisions for their own codes. This started to include states, beginning in 1962 with Michigan.
For the first five years, B77 was administered and underwritten by its organizers, ESAOA, but by 1965, the young and still struggling NSAA was on sufficiently firm ground to take over and sponsorship was transferred. It was now a fully national proposition and a major responsibility.
Like all standards, B77 is a living organism that needs steady, constant, even loving attention. Its relevance can never be jeopardized by obsolescence; it must evolve as technology changes.
Its managers must strike a careful balance between conservatism and innovation. As long-time committeeman, Jim Fletcher, puts it, “It’s a battle between those who say, ‘I’m here to rein in the regulators, and others who argue, ‘We can’t allow the innovators to hurt people.”
Over the 40 years of its life, the B77 Standard has been argued and fought over, pushed, pulled, tweaked, kneaded, pummeled and stroked. Monster egos have been let loose on it, passionate differences painstakingly mediated. At the other end of the spectrum, mind-numbing tedium has always been a part of the necessarily drawn-out process of building a consensus code. And that is the key word: consensus. Reaching it is a process and often it is not arrived at easily. The 40-year history of professionalism and persuasion, of leadership and listening, is ultimately the story of people and the B77 Standard has been remarkably blessed in this category.
It seems extraordinary that in this long period, there have only been six chairmen of the committee responsible for the standard: Phil Robertson, Dave Judson, Bill Norton, Stan Judge, Sel Hannah and LeRoy Schultz. Equally remarkable, there have been only three professional administrators, starting with Sam Bonasso in 1977, continuing with Chris Stoddard and on up to the current one, Sid Roslund, who has held the position since 1991 The highly desirable characteristics of consistency and continuity that the standards have enjoyed is certainly a product of this low turnover.
The continuity has also been assured by the abiding presence of a hard core of committee members. It is perhaps unfair to single out individuals, but a few names kept surfacing in researching this article. From the manufacturing side, Vic Hall, Bob Heron, Larry Jump and Tony Sowder, all deceased, plus the very living Jan Leonard, were frequently cited. From the ranks of other tramway experts, stalwarts include Jim Ellis, Chuck Dwyer, Jim Fletcher, Nils Ericksen, Sam Geise, George Boyden and the late Bob Ficker, the last being remembered especially for his genius as a mediator. Still another is Stan Judge, who, Stoddard feels, “set the tone” for what the standard should be, always pushing for it to be performance-based, rather than specifications-based, as the regulators would prefer.
Among the several “lay” committee members from ski areas, Hank Lunde’s contributions were especially noted. Says Sam Bonasso, “Hank, then head of operations at Killington, forced us all to define what safety was.” It was both a sobering philosophical exercise and a practical measure to sharpen the committee’s focus. “Safety,” he posited, “is freedom from danger or exposure to risk.” Direction came from this thinking.
Including the original standard adopted in 1960, there have been eight versions, the last being adopted in 1999. In addition, addenda or supplements have been adopted in five different intervening years.
One of the bright aspects for the future is “the involvement of 19 new and dedicated committee members since 1990, most of them relatively young,” according to Chairman Schultz.
Clearly, the public, albeit unknowingly, has much to be grateful for in the clear-headed, ongoing work of the B77.1 Standard. Clearly too, the ski industry can and should take quiet pride.
