Alta, Utah, is very special for several reasons, but it is from the qualities of the people who were drawn there early on to ski that Alta draws its special legacy—especially four who were founders, not only of the business, but more importantly, creators and guardians of the unique Alta spirit. One, Joe Quinney, died in 1983, but in the last six months of 1997, the other three, octogenarians all, left us. We remembered Chic Morton and Alf Engen in an earlier issue, so here we recall the lanky, inherently shy person, inheritor of wealth, known to most as “J,” who made such a lasting mark in two distinct worlds. His mid-November obituary in The New York Times focuses on one: “Mr. Laughlin made a major contribution to literature as well as to the field of publishing. The list of his writers [in his New Directions] is staggering: Tennessee Williams, William Carlos Williams, Ezra Pound, Henry Miller, Dylan Thomas, Delmore Schwartz, Vladimir Nabokov, among many others.” The review quoted critic Brendan Gill as saying “He was the greatest publisher America ever had.”
Literary giant that he was, and prolific poet in his own right, J. walked in our world as a skier, who became a key player in the very early days of Alta. It is a complex, compelling story that involves a young Dick Durrance, then a Dartmouth undergraduate, persuading his good skiing friend, J., to spend a few days at the Alta Lodge during the winter of 1940-41. Within a year Laughlin took over the lease of that hotel, later becoming its owner. He also bought a new lift for the area. His long commitment to Alta stemmed from his love and respect for the canyon and his passion for skiing.
J.’s literary and ski worlds converged as a contributor to Ski Magazine. His many pieces ran from a scathing report on what he saw as excessive nationalism at the 1948 Olympics at St. Moritz to a gloriously literate and personal history of the sport in Ski’s 25th anniversary issue in 1960. In this, he included an indictment of the intense commercialism that he deplored in the sport. “But, praise be,” he wrote, “there is still a lot of room in the mountains,” and that is what he and his friend, Joe Quinney, kept intact at Alta.
