By: Mike Reader
"Macon Telegraph Online"
Aug. 6, 1997
Disposable memories
I had more than a twinge of sadness last week as I watched the implosion of the Omni and Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium. Both facilities held some special memories for me. It's not like either facility was old. Heck, I'm older than both, and I'm not ancient. Yet the sites of many thrilling victories and many less-than-thrilling defeats are gone.
Smashed into piles of rubble.
I can hear the questions now: "Where did you say you were when Dale Murphy hit that grand slam off San Francisco's Vida Blue?" I'll respond "Just over there, right next to the red Ford."
I'll get a strange stare as I try to explain that the parking lot used to be a stadium - a stadium where World Series games were played.
I understand that time marches on, but does it have to march so soon and so quickly? There are cars still running that are older.
I agree that Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium didn't have the history of Yankee stadium. It didn't have the Babe, Lou, Mickey and Joe. But it did have Hank, Joe (Torre) and Dale. Not bad. But now it's gone ... another disposable memory.
In New York City, the mention of blowing up Yankee Stadium (and it has been mentioned) brings the ghosts of World Series past back to haunt whomever thinks such a thought. In Atlanta, there was a hue and cry, but not enough to save either stadium. Now all that is left is recent videotape.
Hallowed halls are biting the dust everywhere. The Boston Garden, with the memories of Cousy, Russell and Bird, is checking out. It was an old stadium long before the Omni was built. Everywhere, our major sports franchises are wheeling and dealing, generally at the fans' and taxpayers' expense.
In Maryland, taxpayers are paying for not one, but two new stadiums - one for the Washington Redskins and the other for the team stolen from Cleveland. Memories, everybody's trashing them. Nothing is sacred anymore.
Why should the little old fan worry about players zipping from one team to another, making millions in the process, when the owners are blackmailing cities for new sky boxes and tax incentives while jacking up ticket prices and parking, whether a good team or bad one is produced.
Should I not be surprised that Atlanta is leading the way in this new construction craze? It only stands to reason that the "City too busy to hate" would also be too busy to remember. Too busy to remember that there was a 1996 Summer Olympics.
Two of Atlanta's major venues bit the dust a year later. The Olympic Torch, the symbol of the games, was made to feel like an unwanted, illegitimate child. Centennial Park is a shadow of its former self and although the dorms and other facilities stretch from Morehouse College to Georgia Tech are still there, their personalities are no longer Olympic.
What type of Olympic memories does Turner Field conjure up for you? The Olympic track isn't there anymore. The configuration of the stadium has been changed to suit only baseball, a gift to the Atlanta Braves. And instead of the Olympic Torch, there's the Coca-Cola pavilion.
It's as if the Olympics were a dream. Now you see 'em, now you don't.
Atlanta, while hosting a successful Olympic Games, will never be a Los Angeles, where the Olympic flame still burns from two Olympiads at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. Where is the historical perspective in the historical South? Absent, unaccounted for. This is the new South. The very, very, new South. If you're over 30, watch out.
Georgia Dome, you had better watch out. You're next.
Charles Richardson is Perspective Editor of The Macon Telegraph.
Monday • September 29, 1997
Stadium demolition wasteful, sad
By Furman Bisher, Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Well, we've now gone through the formality of kissing off the old stadium in our pages. I was a willing participant, saying my goodbye in a front page blast Sunday, but that was only doing my bit for the team. I now turn to Phase 2, converting the old place into something useful rather than a pile of rubble. It's an old lyric set to an old melody, so bear with me. Somebody whose head isn't buried in the political sand should pay attention.
As I drive into the city each day, I pass by one of the most absurd sights in memory. Part of the new stadium, completed just in time for the Olympic Games, is already being demolished. It's as new as something freshly minted. What irony. Build it, then tear it down.
That's OK. That's the way it was supposed to be. That was the deal made with the Braves. It's a glossy place with some new stuff the old place never had, and when the conversion is done, it'll be a place where you can shop and have something to eat and go to a ball game and never leave the grounds. It'll also take a whack out of your budget.
Why preserve the old stadium? For several reasons, not the least of which is what it stands for in Atlanta's history, things Henry Aaron and Phil Niekro bring to our attention. More than that, though, once the new stadium becomes a baseball park, there will be no major facility for track and field. We fill the seats for the Olympics, then track and field are declared dead in Atlanta. There's a growing fan base for soccer, and a soccer major league franchise making eyes at Atlanta, but there's no place to play. Remember the February motocross that turned the field into a mudhole? Now they can have motocross without contaminating the place for the Braves.
How does all this take place? Tear out about 20,000 field seats instead of demolishing the whole stadium, move the Olympic track from across the street. Voila, you have a place where Michael Johnson and Allen Johnson can run again and Lance Deal can hurl the hammer. Also, where a soccer franchise can operate. Tractors can pull, rodeo cowboys can ride the bulls, midget cars can race, stars can perform in concert -- remember, the Beatles did it -- and Atlanta would have an alternative stadium, not just another parking lot. It would become a centerpiece for activities and events otherwise not available to a community that feels put upon.
What to do about parking? Double-deck the present parking space. It's cheaper to build than putting the wrecking ball to the stadium.
This fills a need if Atlanta is going to move to its next stage of growth. A city of this size and ambition to be the world's next great address with only one major outdoor stadium facility? Think about it.
Who makes this decision, and on what grounds? I notice even Ivan Allen has turned his back. "Sure I'll miss it," the former mayor said. "But look what we've replaced it with." This from the man to whom this stadium was part of the foundation in his political career.
It's not a matter of replacement. With no Olympics, the Braves would have stayed at home. It's a matter of broadening the base for other games and entertainment. New homes have been provided for the Falcons and the Braves, but when Reggie Williams, who was the first professional the stadium ever had for a manager, suggested out loud that "the world's next great city" needed the old stadium for other sports, he was told to shut up or get out. He got out.
Last call. This is a mistake that once done can't be undone.
Monday • September 29, 1997
WSB-TV brings you exclusive inside view of stadium implosion
The camera was installed into a small rigid box.
"To make the box, I took an old video tape-head shipping case, cut a hole in the side and installed the camera on a gimbal mount to the bottom of the box," says Tracy Reeves, WSB-TV photographer.
The camera is a standard 8mm consumer camcorder modified with a double wide-angle lens set. The first wide angle lens was fixed to the cameras original lens and the second was attached to the box itself.
"I built the case Thursday night in my basement. One difficulty I ran into was how to attach the larger wide-angle to the camera," says Reeves. "I came up with the solution when I took down my cordless drill and saw the cradle it was housed in. The lens fit perfectly
into the cradle."
WSB-TV Engineer Vee Owensby and Reeves put the camera in place at the stadium.
"We placed the camera on top of one of the cranes that was been left inside the stadium. The demolition folks thought it would be safe," says Reeves.
Owensby handled getting the signal out of the stadium.
"He had a couple of boxes that allow us to send video over regular
phone wire," says Reeves. "So after a quick trip to Suwanee to pick up 2000ft of cable, we dropped cable from the middle of the stadium, through the right field tunnel, down the sidewalk, over Ralph David Abernathy Blvd. and finally connected to our satellite truck."
