The Craig Hall Chronicles :: Mia Draper

It's a simple walk down to the water, maybe 50 feet from backdoor to small beach, the sliver of sand separating the family home and property in Bellevue from Enatai Bay and, beyond that, the more open waters of Lake Washington. Easy access, paradise for an open-water swimmer.

Jenny Draper, as she does most mornings, heads down to the shoreline and slips in, literally and figuratively leaving the world behind.

The first few minutes, the first few hundred yards, are always the worst, shoulders that just powered her through yesterday's workout objecting to this latest ask, that they do it again, just as they have most of her life, almost all done in the pool before COVID allowed her to discover this new, magical world.

It's a bit of a bottleneck here, the water between Bellevue and Mercer Island becoming somewhat murky, just like this story, at least on its surface. Husband living in Switzerland. Oldest daughter playing soccer at Montana. Other, younger daughter at TASIS, The American School in Switzerland.

And here is Jenny Draper, slicing through the water, finding her rhythm. When she returns home, it will be to an empty house, everyone else now somewhere else, everyone but her. "It's super unconventional and not the story you hear with most families, but it's how we live and it works," she says.

As she swims north, she passes Chesterfield Beach Park, St. Mary-on-the-Lake Peace and Spirituality Center, Chism Beach Park, Medina Beach Park, familiar touchpoints that let her know how far she's traveled, the open-water experience now at its best as Lake Washington opens up ahead of her.

She's in her own world now, a zero-cost sensory deprivation tank, the water flowing over her head, muffling the sounds from the on-shore activity she can see but not hear. Otters look on in curiosity, sometimes sea lions, human connecting to the natural world in the most unique way.

She remembers her daughter's soccer trip to San Sebastian, Spain, joining the locals one morning for a swim out to and around the Isla de Santa Clara, on one side of the island, the sheltered bay, on the other, the Bay of Biscay. Beyond that, the North Atlantic Ocean, a most unnerving undertaking.

"It's not something everybody would choose to do," she says. "The people who do are a unique breed."

She's back in Lake Washington now, in the zone, the waters beginning to clear, her bilateral breathing have her looking right, stroke, stroke, then breathing to the left, one direction land, the other mostly lake, with Seattle off in the distance.

It's the only way to get into this story, looking right, looking left, how she came to be here, how Markus came to be there, their paths coming together in Switzerland so many years ago, where he was born and raised, where she was visiting, how Mia arrived, how Ellie arrived. And then, soccer.

It all makes sense if you have time to first collect the pieces of this puzzle, then have time to put it all together, starting decades ago in Germany, then bouncing over to Seattle, stories weaving together, arriving here, this week in Missoula, where Mia Draper will play soccer in the Rumble in the Rockies.

But time is what we have. Jenny Draper has hardly gotten warmed up. And the lake is large.

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the right: It's 1940s Germany, Markus's mom just a girl, watching her family run a shoe factory, their home the big, stately one across from the park. It's wartime, the park masking underground tunnels, the home, connected to those tunnels, a safe haven for escaping Jews.

It's something you'd see in a movie, read in a history book. This time it's part of a family's saga. "It's a more interesting story than me growing up on Mercer Island, that's for sure," Jenny says. Markus's mom meets her future husband skiing. They end up in Switzerland.

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the left: Greg Draper is going through it, after earning his mechanical engineering degree from Washington, serving in the Marines. He's 26, engaged and in a four-month window loses the most important men in his life: his father, his grandfather, his uncle.

He needs to be successful, HAS to be successful, so many people around him counting on him.

It's the dawn of a new era in Seattle, the outdoors becoming more than something to look at and admire. It's a potential playground. And all that play would require gear, and somebody had to make it, the edge for K2 skis, the buckles for Lange ski boots, the JanSport backpacks.

Somebody had to invent the supplies – the Original Candle Lantern anyone? – that made life outside more enjoyable. So, Greg Draper did it, did it all, setting up shop in Redmond, befriending the titans of the outdoor industry, paying his only daughter a penny for every key chain she put together.

Draper, possessing an enthusiasm for life and an unending curiosity, co-founded UCO Corporation in 1971, led it until its sale in 2005. "Because of that, we had a super adventurous and outdoor-minded lifestyle," his daughter says, giving us valuable pieces to the puzzle.

His ONE BIG DREAM? A waterfront home, which he realized in the 1980s, the one Jenny Draper swims from today, a decade after her father's death, less than two years later her mom passing on as well, the one that became the family home around the same time she departed for college.

"That's really cool, guys, buy waterfront property the minute I go off to college. My dad always wanted that. His company took off and he achieved his goal," she says.

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the right: But how to pair that adventurous spirit on a bigger scale than just topography? What if it meant the entire world?

The family, through the World Affairs Council, became hosts through the International Visitors Leadership Program, welcoming dignitaries to their home, parents, daughter and everyone they knew who might have some sort of a connection with their visitor, breaking bread, learning about each other.

Jenny Draper's takeaway: It's a big, big interesting world. And she wanted to see and experience as much of it as she could. "The international component was never a stretch for me," she says. "I always wanted more than Mercer Island."

She went to College of Idaho, then Oregon State, saved enough money for a study-abroad program to England, graduated, took a job in Switzerland in 1991 at a summer camp as a mountain bike instructor, joined a girlfriend for a weekend trip to Germany, saving money by staying with one of her friends.

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the left: Uh-oh. Markus is there, roommate of Jenny's friend's friend, reading Kafka, wearing little round glasses, rolling cigarettes by hand. "I think he was terrified of us, two loud American girls, but I was fascinated with him, his mind. He was so intellectual," she says.

Uh-oh. Markus is all that, plus a hella-good skier and mountain biker, the Jenny Draper Total Package, Deluxe Edition. Bonus points for Markus being this international man of mystery. "I call it my summer of love."

They get married, remain in Switzerland for six years, this guy who has the equivalent of a PhD in theater science, this girl who was working for Amgen, the founder of Teatro ZinZanni flipping their lives upside down when he offered Markus the executive director job at Teatro ZinZanni Seattle.

Welcome home, Jenny.

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the right: Mia arrives and imagine the world she enters, her dad's workplace a bustling hive of actors, acrobats, contortionists, and she had an all-access pass to every part of it, Cirque du Soleil meets a five-course feast. Love, Chaos and Dinner, indeed.

Soccer camp? How about something a bit different for young Mia? "I basically grew up there, did circus camps for a while, got really good at my somersaults," she says. "I remember 'Don't Stop Believing' would always be part of the Saturday matinee. I would get to sing my own solo. That's a core memory."

Soccer? Oh, god. She was four, brought to Little Kickers by her mom, not on some expansive field but to a cramped gym. All anyone can remember is how loud it was. And that this little tyke was given a size 5 ball, the full-sized one used by professionals. Okay, Mia, let's see what you've got.

"It was a full breakdown. The coach came over, yeah, this probably isn't for you," recalls Jenny, who can laugh at the memory today, now that she knows how it ends, her daughter representing both the U.S. and Switzerland in international competition, her daughter playing Division I soccer.

"Funny to look at the transformation. It wasn't like she was a soccer phenom since she was two."

Stroke, stroke, stop: Okay, that's probably far enough for today. Jenny Draper stops swimming, treads water as means of taking a breather, watches from afar as the greater Seattle area comes to full life, relishes that she is in the center of it but has nothing to do with it, cocooned in water.

She puts her head back down and presses on, now toward home.

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the left: So, how do we get from there ("Soccer was my nightmare as a kid," Mia says. "It was the worst thing ever.") to here ("I saw her highlights and thought, we have to close this kid as soon as possible. I don't want anyone else to have her," says Montana coach Chris Citowicki.)?

"Mia excels when she is invited, then recognized," says her mom, as a way of bridging that divide for us.

How else to explain the switch that flipped that day she was at the beach, the girl they would one day call "Wheels" for her outside-channel speed on the soccer field, probably asking everyone she could find if they wanted to race, when a family friend/coach asked if she could fill in for a missing player.

Yes, on the soccer field, place of terrors. Not for long.

"From there it really blossomed," says Mia, appropriately doing her best bright-flower impression that day, with hot-pink socks and green shorts. She didn't have cleats or a clue what she was supposed to be doing, but somehow soccer was something different, something fun, something she really wanted to do.

"Why not? I get to kick a ball, I get to run, I get to be with my friends, I get to be competitive. This is my dream. I don't know why I didn't see it before. It's been a part of my life ever since then."

She'd gotten the invitation, step 1, then she was recognized by a scout from Eastside FC, step 2. "So, she's invited, then recognized. That felt really good for her," says Jenny.

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the right: The trajectory would only point up from there, daughter asking mother if she could try out for Premier. "Great. What sport is that?" asked Jenny, who stepped foot into this new world of youth soccer without any type of map to reference for the journey ahead.

"I did a 180. I asked all my friends, what do we do? How do we do this?" Her daughter's talent and athleticism made it so Jenny didn't have to do much in terms of promotion, just serve as chauffeur. If you have game in the world of youth sports, the opportunities will find you.

She spent nine years at Eastside, began playing ODP, three times made the regional team, went to a national camp in Houston, caught the eye of a coach from Seattle United, switched clubs and later represented the U.S. in Costa Rica for the ODP U17 national team, alongside Malli Rude.

"We kept saying to her, as long as you love it, we will support you, drive, pay for it. We just want to see you're passionate about it," says Jenny. "I still can't tell you what offsides is. I just like seeing her legs move. I'm happy she's an athletic kiddo and is healthy." A healthy perspective, wouldn't you agree?

Stroke, stroke, breath to the left: But where to play her, this girl who can ruin you with either her speed or her ability to go past you with the ball at her feet? Those skills could slot her into just about any position outside of goalkeeper.

"She played the 9, was a goal-scorer, then moved out to the wings, where she could really use her speed," says Jenny. But those were not her top quality: "Something all her coaches said to me, the No. 1 thing is she's so coachable. That might be her superpower, that's she's open to learning."

More experiences? How about her dad reaching out to Team Switzerland, telling them of this girl with dual citizenship, who would play for his country of birth if they would just extend an invitation. And we all know now what Mia Draper does when she gets invited.

In the spring of her junior year at Bellevue High, she traveled to Switzerland, not a big deal since she's been going there since the age of eight, the place she now calls her second home, and joined the U17 national team for an official FIFA match against Germany.

Did her new coaches play her 70 minutes? You know they did. "Probably the best soccer experience I've ever had," she says.

"It put confidence in my abilities and showed me my hard work does pay off. That's what pushed me to strive for the stars, pushed me to go as high as I can until I can't go anymore. I had so much passion for the sport, I had to play in college. It was soccer or nothing."

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the right: Uh-oh, trouble is brewing. COVID arrives, its stay-at-home orders ringing like a death knell for a place like Teatro ZinZanni, which relied on packing people in, giving people a thrilling experience in close quarters.

After a 14-year run as executive director, Markus would head to Switzerland to find work as part of a theater foundation, everyone knowing he'd still be with Teatro ZinZanni in Seattle had no one ever heard of COVID-19. "He'd still be doing it for sure," says Jenny.

Taking both girls and moving to Switzerland was in serious discussions, even before COVID, but then soccer stepped in and put Mia on a path no one wanted to disrupt.

Ellie? "My job is to open the world for them. Markus and I have always wanted the girls to have choices with their dual citizenships," says Jenny. "I want them to be able to choose where they want to explore their own lives.

"Suddenly we had this moment. Mia was set. Ellie in a public high school in the U.S.? No. We really wanted to give her a sense of autonomy and independence. Boarding school is brass tacks. You have to really buckle down and figure out who you are. Doing that at 14 was a really big ask, but she did it."

TASIS is a small campus but a far-reaching school, attracting students from more than 50 different counties. Imagine walking between the school's buildings in southern Switzerland, a mile or two from the Italian border, hearing three dozen different languages potentially being spoken.

What better path for the daughter of a guy who speaks five himself? But what heartache for the mom who moved Ellie into her dorm room a year ago, then said good-bye to her soon-to-be freshman. "My heartstrings still hurt, but I'm more happy for them than I am sad for me," Jenny says.

"To see Ellie growing, there is nothing that can compare to it. Her life changed completely for the better. I wouldn't want to take that away from her. I went to a month-long summer camp growing up, so I value independence. I want my kids to know they are okay, that they're confident and are going to be fine."

And Mia? "She's good on her own," says Jenny. "She was ready for the next thing, and Missoula is the next big thing for her. She's ready to take on more incrementally. I think she is going to be a globetrotter.

"Ellie is turning into this super cool kid. I can't wait to go traveling with them, the adult conversations we'll have. I wanted that for our kids, even before we had kids."

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the left: Well, that certainly ruins the surprise, that Mia Draper would go through the recruiting process and choose Montana.

The story is that it almost didn't happen, that Addison Stendera told her friend about Montana, that it was the greatest program Draper had likely never considered. But should. So, Draper sent Citowicki an email, right during the season, a communication that got overlooked in the busyness of the fall.

Draper heard nothing from the Grizzlies. So, Stendera, who was committed by this point, sent Citowicki an ICYMI email. Don't mean to be a pest, but you should REALLY check out this Mia Draper girl.

The coach went back in his emails, found the one from Draper, read what she had to say, about where she'd been and what she'd done, then clicked on the video. It took about 20 seconds before he was yelling, "OMG. J, ASH GET IN HERE. YOU'VE GOT TO SEE THIS."

He was on his way to Phoenix, on the bus after his team played at Northern Arizona, when he first talked to Draper. "She was so mature, so exceptionally well-spoken," Citowicki says. "On top of that, you see the highlights, I couldn't believe it. It was one of the quickest recruiting processes we've gone through."

"I wanted to go to a place where I could feel in love with nature, with my school and with soccer. As long as all areas of my life could be beautiful, then I'd be fulfilled," Draper says.

"People told me, when you know, you know. That's what happened to me. My mom and I stepped foot on campus and were like, oh, my lord. I had other visits and I found myself comparing everyone else back with Montana. What else am I still looking for? This is the gold standard."

In that case, wouldn't you agree that Draper needs to square things with Stendera, the girl who played agent? "I owe her a lot," says Draper. Okay, but what does that mean? Will you clean her dorm room upon request? Just give her a wad of cash as a way of saying thanks?

"Both. I'd do her laundry, too. Vacuum her room, clean her mirror, fold her laundry. And for the next four years. Before I committed, I found a hat at a thrift store that said Last Best Place. It really is. This is such a hidden gem."

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the right: Jenny Draper lifts her head to sight her path home. Almost there, Enatai Bay welcoming her back.

It's fitting, isn't it, that Mia Draper, whose family is all over the place, four people making home where they find it, is a girl without a position? And that's a good thing, a nod to her skill set, her versatility.

"I don't even know what her best fit is," said Citowicki. "Outside back, winger. The piece I love is how good she is on the dribble. She knows how to beat you."

You mean like that crazy-good player who just graduated? "It's not fancy. It's Ava-like, where she just glides beyond someone and opens a space. I love players who can just beat someone. When you have players who are comfortable with the dribble, it unlocks the whole game. Mia offers us that."

The social transition to campus has been easy. No surprise there, this girl of the theater, this daughter of Jenny Draper, who herself grew up relishing the dinners her parents held, whose annual joy as an adult would be having the Teatro ZinZanni gang over to the Draper home for a Christmas celebration.

"It's easy for me to branch out and meet people," says Mia. "This is going to be the next four years of my life, so I might as well make as many friends as possible and be authentically myself. It's never been a problem for me, adapting to new people and new environments."

The soccer part will be more of a challenge, just like it is for every player joining Citowicki's program. "It's weird coming from club, where all of us played 90 minutes to not knowing if you'll step on the field. But that's hard for anyone coming into an elite program like this.

"A big part is my comfort level. I play better when I'm playing freely. When I feel like I have playing time based on my mistakes during a game or I'm trying to prove myself, I can get a little bit tense. It's definitely a pressure-cooker."

She'll create some stories on the field the next four years, as she pursues journalism in the classroom, a profession she will be prepared to take her all over the world, at least in a perfect one, then she'll be the one doing the writing.

"Once I got here, I haven't thought about my life back home. It's a separate thing, because I'm ready to launch in a way," she says. "I owe a lot to how my family is structured and the independence it's taught me. It keeps life interesting."

Stroke, stroke, breathe to the left: Jenny Draper reaches the dock, then takes a hard left, pulling through the water until her fingers begin touching the bottom, her finish line.

She walks up the lawn to the patio. It's cool but the sun is shining. She sits on a deck chair, wraps herself in a towel, relishes the post-exertion dizziness and total-body fatigue, that feeling that only being in the water can create.

She thinks about Markus and Ellie in Switzerland, Mia in Montana. It doesn't bring a tear to her eye. It brings a smile to her face.

University of Montana Athletics

Players Mentioned

Mia Draper

Malli Rude

Addison Stendera

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