Switzerland: The Last Race

The Swiss Alps above St. Moritz were still white with the hard-packed snows of winter, and here and there April showers had laid a blanket of fresh, wet snow on top. To the casual eye, it was beautiful. But the beauty was lost on officials at the Institute for Snow Research and Avalanches in Davos. Tests indicated that the new snow was not binding with the old. And when warm weather followed last week, and the snow began to melt, the warning flashed out quickly: “Lawine [Avalanche]!”

Danger never bothered Wallace (“Bud”) Werner. He did not deliberately tempt it; for him it just never existed. Some might call that ignorant or childish or foolhardy, but within the special company of downhill racers, Bud Werner won only admiration and respect. Austrians called him “the cowboy from Colorado”; autographed photos of his boyish face decorated the walls of stores and inns in ski towns like Kitzbühel and Bad Gastein.

Bud Werner was the best male skier the U.S. ever produced. The son of a rancher from Steamboat Springs, Colo., he had never even been on a train or plane when, at 17, he traveled to Europe and in Norway beat Europe’s best. If Olympic medals are a true test of a skier’s ability, Werner was a failure, because he never won any. He broke a leg training for the 1960 Winter Olympics, and by the time this year’s Games rolled around, he was 28 and past his peak. But over the years, he won the big races at Chamonix and Wengen and Courchevel, and when he did not win, Bud mostly crashed—because he was a one-man U.S. team trying to defeat the Austrians, French, Germans, Swiss and Italians, who always dominated the sport. Nobody ever skied faster than Werner. Some kept their feet.

After the Olympics, Werner retired from racing, but last week he was back in the Alps—this time starring in a movie sponsored by German Clothing Manufacturer Willy Bogner. Disregarding the avalanche warnings, photographers set up their equipment on the slopes of the Selin Valley above St. Moritz. Cameras whirred; Werner and 14 other skiers started down the hill. Suddenly, there was a sharp crack, and tons of snow thundered toward the valley floor below. By scrambling and flailing, most of the 15 “swam” on top of the avalanche to safety. Not Werner. And not Barbi Henneberger, 23, a pretty German skier. Together, they tried to race the 500-ft.-wide wall of snow.

Barbi never had a chance. But Bud almost won the race. Crouched far for ward, poles tucked tightly under his arms, he strained for speed; horrified onlookers guessed that he was hitting 50 m.p.h. Then, just 15 ft. from safety, he stumbled, staggered and fell. By the time rescuers found the two skiers, four hours later, both were dead.