By Sarah Richardson
The story of Jerry Laufer’s connection to Winterplace Ski Resort is one of quiet tenacity and perseverance, about believing in a dream, and being dedicated to that dream through nearly every trial and tribulation possible. Laufer, who now resides in Lewisburg, spent years of his youth invested in the idea of launching a ski area in Raleigh County on Flat Top Mountain, more specifically, on Huff Knob.
It all began in the early 1970s, when Laufer, a Princeton native, was an undergraduate at Concord College. He connected with Bob Ash through the Jaycees club in the early 1970s, kick-starting a chain of events that would eventually lead to the development of Winterplace.
Ash, a ski enthusiast, wanted to get into ski area management and had found employment at both Beech and Sugar Mountain ski areas in North Carolina. In late 1970, Ash brought Laufer to an area where he had skied on a sheep farm as a young man: Flat Top Mountain. Laufer was immediately hooked on the idea of developing the area into a full-fledged ski resort, and with rumors of the West Virginia turnpike being upgraded into an interstate interchange, the timing seemed to all be lining up. He saw a chance to transform southern West Virginia’s economy, to bring in tourism, business, and industry where none had existed before.
“We wanted to change the culture of the area,” said Laufer in several interviews years later, noting how the ski resort idea was never simply about the sport. For Laufer, the mission was to create something that could sustain the region long term. He wanted a place that would draw both winter sports enthusiasts and the outside world into the heart of the Appalachian Mountains.
In 1971, Laufer and Ash partnered with Laufer’s father, Sam, to secure a 12-month purchase option for the first of three tracts of the abandoned sheep farm on Flat Top Mountain, the first step of bringing the dream into reality. At the end of the 12 months, one week before the option expired, Laufer landed a loan to purchase the property.
“I actually borrowed more money than I needed for the property,” said Laufer, “and used that money to make the payments, and buy time to find investors.”
Over the next several years, Laufer’s persistence would be tested time and time again. Strong skepticism from locals and potential investors hindered the launch of the project, but Laufer didn’t give up: even after being turned down by over 20 banks for a financing loan. The section of I-77 passing near the property was delayed for seven years, and around that same time, development of another West Virginia ski resort, Snowshoe, went into bankruptcy.
Laufer ended up living on Flat Top in an old farmhouse for 13 years while working odd jobs trying to make ends meet, he cut and sold timber, opened a restaurant for a summer, and even strip-mined some coal after one of the timber workers explored a promising area on the mountain and hit a coal vein, which Laufer then mined with a leased surface mining equipment. In 1974, he also hosted a hang-gliding meet to try and bring attention to the mountain.
While working to try and pay the bills, Laufer was also brainstorming the marketing, development, and feasibility studies for a ski resort that didn’t exist yet. He personally designed a logo, a striped snowflake, and built signs stating that Flat Top was now “Flat Top Mountain Ski Area.” During this brainstorming, the name “Winterplace” stuck.
After securing several investor commitments in late 1982, with all three land tracts purchased thanks to over 40 limited partners and a bank loan, the ski resort was only steps away from reality. And yet, after all the years of effort, a professional consultant from New Hampshire reported that their $4 million dollar project might be undercapitalized. Laufer and his father, lacking the deep pockets, made a decision to sell out their interest in the project to developers in the spring of 1983.
“We took the opportunity,” said Laufer. “When I sold out to the developers, the investors were in place, the private money was committed, the feasibility studies were all done, and the suppliers were all lined up.” The developers then stepped in with the financial backing to execute everything Laufer had already lined up on paper.
“The ski industry consultant’s visit was a wakeup call,” he said. The reason for the consultant’s projected expenses came from the possibility of cost overruns that come with building a whole resort in less than six months. The resort needed to open before the end of the year in order to fulfill the tax shelter agreements for the investors.
Two additional factors leading Laufer to sell his share were the 15 percent interest rate that his loan was secured at, and the uncertainty of the weather. Together this made a perfect storm to let Laufer know that it was time to let someone with more financial backing take the reins.
“The stress was unbelievable,” he said.
With everything on the line, Laufer, Ash, and their partners pushed to ensure that Winterplace would open in time. They succeeded, and Winterplace Ski Resort opened its doors to the public in December 1983, providing southern West Virginia with its first fully operational ski resort.
Winterplace was, at long last, a reality. Laufer had succeeded in fulfilling his mission, and served on the board of directors for three years. He had brought skiing to southern West Virginia.
He also fulfilled a personal promise to himself; he didn’t want to learn how to ski unless it was at Winterplace. Laufer, who had ski racks installed on the roof of his car and worked on developing a ski haven for 13 years, did finally learn to ski via ski lessons at Winterplace the first season they were open.
In the years that followed, Laufer’s took a turn to reinvent himself. He spent time recuperating from the exhaustion of the previous decade, and in his 50s he went back to college and became a teacher at Greenbrier East High School, where he taught special education algebra, science, and ancient world history for several years. “I felt like I was an entrepreneur all over again, just in the classroom,” Laufer jokes.
Bob Ash passed away in 2004 as an innovator of snowmaking technology, and had become the CEO of Beech Mountain Resort in North Carolina after Winterplace’s opening.
As for Laufer, his connection to Winterplace has never truly faded. He still smiles quietly to himself whenever he hears someone mention the resort, and his old farmhouse phone number and P.O. Box were Winterplace’s up until recently, and served as a reminder of a time when the mountain was just a dream.
Today, Laufer says that he is “reinventing himself as a widower” following the passing of his wife, Marianne Richardson-Brewster, several years ago.
For Laufer and his Winterplace dream, the reward has always been beyond the financial gain. It was knowing that he had helped turn an idea into a reality. In many ways, Winterplace still represents a piece of him, a place where the impossible became possible, and the rest of the world was invited to experience the mountains he had come to love.
