Skateboarding Through History
If James had tried that ollie sixty years ago, the sound of the board scraping against the concrete would have interrupted Hitler’s speech. We skated in Heldenplatz, Vienna Austria’s most historic square. A square where in 1938, Hitler announced the Unification of Austria into Nazi Germany in front of thousands of cheering Austrians. With the dramatic wide open space, hand carved concrete pillars and Hapsburg equestrian statues, it was truly royal. Hitler’s emotionally charged rhetoric and the decadent old Hapsburg architecture, made it the ideal place to rile supporters. It was a place where marchers would feel free and celebrate the rise of Germany once again. In the meantime, the Gestapo was eradicating opponents of the Nazi party and Jews. I don’t think anyone would have predicted that Heldenplatz’s smooth stone paving, sets of stairs and marble brick pads would become the ideal skateboarders jungle gym. Skateboarding was the last thing that the architect had in mind; the skateboard hadn’t even been invented yet.
I sat on the edge of a huge marble statue depicting Archduke Charles. It is just one of the many historical gems located in the Heldenplatz square. I let my feet comfortably dangle off while looking out at a panoramic view of Vienna’s romantic architecture.
“I almost got it,” James said as he hopped back up onto the statue, crack filled skateboard in hand.
“Definitely, you just keep chickening out. Next time you jump off and it feels right, just commit to it.” James stood at a far corner of the statue, eyeing the drop off, like a predator stalking its prey. Looming several meters right over James was Archduke Charles, triumphantly riding into battle. He held a fluttering flag high in one hand, and his horse stood on two legs, suspended in action. James tapped the side of the statue for good luck, before jumping on his board. He pushed delicately over the marble bricks. The wheels clicked and clacked in song, and tension mounted as he approached closer and closer to the edge. Even though the part of the statue we ollied from was only a meter high, any wrong flick or twist could land you with a twisted ankle or a bloody shin. Preparing the ollie, his front foot slid up the board and the friction of the griptape against his shoe launched him into the air. His arms rose up with him, trying to contain his balance and composure. As he reached the peak of his jump, his left foot slid too far forward over the nose, making his arms flutter to regain contact. Like a bird getting shot out of the sky, his body spazzed and fell straight down back onto the concrete. The nose of his board smashed down next to him, as he rolled out of the jump to mitigate the fall.
“Fuck,” he instinctively screamed, rising back to his feet. A chubby tourist with an oversized BU t-shirt and sandals gasped in horror as he walked by. He was probably shocked that such a historical monument was plagued by such “delinquent” skateboarders. Probably American too. After skateboarding the statue frequently enough, you developed an uncanny ability to know where any tourist was from. I especially liked watching the Asians. They traveled in hoards. Fanny packs, peace signs and cameras were a must. Sometimes it almost seemed like there were more camera flashes going off then people. James climbed wearily back onto the statue. I could see in his eyes that he was getting tired of falling as he plopped down on the statue next to me. He really did need a break, we had been here a while.
“I’ll do it before we leave,” he said as he dug into his flannel breast pocket.
“Sure buddy,” I said as I watched him pull out an old packet of lucky strikes. A typical Austrian, taking a smoke break. Although James was actually half Austrian, half American he had lived in Austria his whole life. He could switch flawlessly between English and German, kickflips and heelflips.
“You ever get in trouble for skating this thing?”
“Nah, you would be surprised. The only people who ever say anything are grumpy old people. You know what the best thing is?”
“What?”
“They usually they aren’t even Austrian! Mostly just old European tourists. Tourists! I don’t know why they think it’s their right to tell us anything, there not even from the country,” he said laughing. He took a drag from his cig and let the smoke slowly roll out of his mouth. “Except for the crazy Vienna bum or the semi Neo Nazi, I’ve never got into conflict with another native.”
“I wish everywhere was like that. It’s not like were destroying anything anyway, were just jumping off of it. I doubt the wheels damage the marble. Marbles gotta be like a 7 or 8 on Moh’s hardness scale.”
“Moh’s scale tests for how hard minerals are, dumbass. Marble isn’t a mineral,” he said back laughing.
“Alright, don’t get all technical now,” I rebutted. “Go land that trick so we can get outta here. I feel like having a Weissbier.”
“Yes sir,” he nodded. He took one last drag of the lucky strike before flicking it a couple of meters away from the statue. It lay there like a dying insect, still pouring smoke before the flame eventually got muffled by the cool concrete.
James walked back to the corner of the statue where he always started. He delicately tapped it with his fingertips before getting a running start and jumping on his board. Looking straight ahead in pure concentration, James’s body tensed up as he got closer and closer to the edge. A meter before the drop, he took one last quick look down, reassuring himself that his feet were in the right position. It was a normal habit skateboarders had for safety, like checking for your keys before you leave the house. He slid his front foot up like last time and the angle of the slide propelled him higher in the air then before. His upper body raised higher up and his board followed directly under him, like a magic carpet. As he reached the peak of his jump, his board flattened out, preparing him to float down. He legs shifted back to their starting position as he landed on all 4s onto the hard concrete. The board rattled from the immediate shock as he crouched down to the ground to absorb the impact. He nailed it.
“WOOOO,” James screamed in victory, as he rode away. He held a fist triumphantly in the air, similar to Archduke Charles posture of holding the mighty flag. I clapped loudly for him and let out a couple of screams. It was fun to watch others conquer there fears and goals. Some people met therapists or went on firewalks to overcome problems. Instead, we chose skateboarding.
As we gathered our stuff up and James bathed in his post trick high, I took one last look out. It was strange to think that only 60 years ago, thousands gathered around in tears of joy or fear, as they heard about the future of their country and lives. While all over America people were skating prefabricated metal and plastic corporate skateparks, I had just been skateboarding a piece of history.
