Julie Taulman

It’s Never Too Late to Pick a New Line Down the Mountain

In Julie Taulman’s world, skiing isn’t something you do on vacation a couple of times a year; it’s
a way of life. Her parents had her on a ski bus every weekend as a kid, learning on what passed
for slopes near their home in Chicago and when she later became a mother, she got her two
boys up on skis by the time they turned three, inducting them into the family culture. For her
firstborn, that was simple: bundle, buckle, go, but for her second, giving him the opportunity to
do what came so naturally to the rest of the family would take everything she had.

Julie had a happy, comfortable childhood, skiing in the winter and boating in the summer.
After high school she went to Purdue, where she studied communication and psychology and
met the man she would marry, and from there life took off at a rapid clip. An internship at a local
paper turned into a career in the publishing industry, one that sent her to upstate New York and
then back to a small farming community in the Midwest, where she took over leadership of the
local paper. She was a young woman running a large staff in a community of older men at a
time when there were hard decisions to be made, but she consistently hit her numbers and gave
back to the community and eventually earned their respect.

It was during those years at the paper that Julie and her husband welcomed their two
sons, first Jacob, a healthy baby boy, and then Kyle, who was born healthy but who began to
show worrying signs by the time he was a toddler. HIs gait became stiff and arthritic, he seemed
reluctant to bend over, and his digestive system was off. Julie brought Kyle to a series of doctors
who dismissed or minimized her concerns. Certain there was something deeply wrong, she
persisted in finding a diagnosis. Finally, a specialist discovered the source of all the problems:
Kyle had a neuroblastoma which was wrapped around his spine. It was Stage 3 High Risk, and
in order to save his life, he would lose his ability to walk.

Still in shock from the diagnosis and the years of chemo and surgery that would
suddenly consume her small child’s life, Julie received yet another blow. Her boss called and
asked to come out to see her at home, a visit she knew could not possibly herald good news.
Sure enough, the paper was being sold and Julie was out of a job. In the span of only a few
weeks, the life she knew and thought she could count on was completely upended.
Julie threw herself into caring for Kyle, learning to do the things the nurses told her were
now, stunningly, her responsibility. Changing a sterile catheter, running IVs, managing a
port…all were part of her new routine as the stay at home caregiver for this very sick little boy, a
boy Julie was determined to give as normal a life as she could. A big part of that, for Julie, was
bringing him to the mountains and teaching him to enjoy them as the rest of the family did. Once
he was well enough, she convinced a ski instructor to take Kyle in a skiing in a sit ski. l. That,
she says, was the day the family started living again. Not long after, they relocated to
Steamboat Springs permanently.

Getting Kyle on the mountain was one thing; teaching him to thrive as an adaptive skier
was another. Julie wanted him to be part of a typical ski program, but for kids like Kyle, that
simply didn’t exist in Steamboat at the time. Compelled to fill that void, Julie started the
Steamboat Adaptive Ski Program, known as STARS. By the time he was in elementary school,
Kyle was on a monoski taking on gates, and a few years later he began training at the National

Sports Center for the Disabled (NSCD) in Winter Park, going on to become a two time
Paralympian, competing in the sitting men’s slalom in Beijing and Cortina.
For Julie, what began as a passion for giving her son and those like him a chance to fully
participate in the ski culture she loved so much turned into not just a calling but a career. When
STARS needed a CEO, she stepped seamlessly into that role, growing the small, grassroots
organization into a year round program with a full overnight accommodation facility. The
program grew to over 1.5 million dollars annually. She was later asked to take the helm of the
even larger NSCD (National Sports Center for the Disabled), where she is currently overseeing
yet another massive expansion.

Like so many in the non-profit sector, it was a tragedy that brought Julie to where she is
today, but it was a tragedy mixed with a blessing. When you get to a door that is closed, she
says, you don’t stop; you find a new one. Kyle did, and it took him to the most elite levels of
competition. Julie did as well, finding a deeply meaningful new career that allows her to share
with others what life has taught her all too well, that there are many ways to get down the
mountain.

In life, as in skiing, it is never too late to pick a new line.