At the 1996 Olympics

1996 Olympics


At long last, my wife, Annie, my 10-year-old daughter, Caroline, and I boarded an airplane in August to attend Atlanta’s 1996 Summer Olympics. We had planned for this once-in-a-lifetime vacation for six months. Caroline was a gymnast, while I had competed in numerous sports at various times in my life. We could not miss this opportunity to attend the Olympics held within easy traveling distance in the United States. This might be our only chance to see Olympic events in person. Though Annie was not an athlete, she also looked forward to a world-class happening.
Annie had organized our trip, starting with receiving stacks of pamphlets and paperwork once we requested an attendance package from Coca-Cola, an Olympic sponsor. We spent weeks planning which events to attend. We pored through schedules, preliminary versus final rounds, the distance between events at different locations, and the estimated stamina required to get through a day of intense summer heat. I wanted to see many competitions, but our budget was limited. Therefore, we chose which sports to watch within reasonable limits. Caroline wanted to go to as many gymnastics events as possible. This chance to see her heroes, Olympian Kerri Strug and World Champion Shannon Miller, had her ecstatic.

Once we knew how many days we would attend the games, Annie's boss, Michael, graciously convinced his friends, the Andersons, to have us stay with them in Atlanta. They lived outside the east side of town, within walking distance of a MARTA subway station. Traveling on the MARTA enabled us to avoid driving twice a day on highways carrying over 2,000,000 Olympic visitors.

When we arrived in Atlanta, we jumped on a crowded MARTA at the airport. Parking would be impossible that week, so we did not rent a car. The MARTA would take us anywhere we needed. Arriving at the Andersons, we were greeted with warm Southern hospitality as they opened their house to us. Mrs. Anderson loved to cook. All week she fed us delicious southern food not served in Florida.

We chose not to attend a crowded Opening Ceremony after traveling all day. Instead, we watched that fantastic event with the Andersons. The dazzling ceremonies pumped us up for an exciting week. We had seen the Olympic torch carried a block from our house on its 16,700-mile trek to Atlanta. Watching its journey end with Muhammad Ali lighting the Olympic Flame was a magnificent tribute to his Olympic medal and career.

The following day, we took a MARTA to downtown Atlanta, arriving hours before our first event. I wanted time to explore Centennial Olympic Park and get a feel for the facilities scattered through downtown. From an underground station, we walked upstairs and stopped in awe. Staggering numbers of fans mingled as far as I could see in mammoth Olympic grounds. A multitude of foreign languages filled the air as happy smiles showed on friendly faces of people from many countries.

As we roamed among various stadiums and arenas, I noticed pins adorned most people’s hats, shirts, and vests. People gathered in small groups to look at each other’s pins with great interest and traded them. I asked a fellow about the interest in pins. With a smile, he explained that every country had its own pins for each sport. Athletes wandering through the crowd handed out pins for their own events. I was surprised to learn that the most interesting activity at the Olympics, next to watching a sporting venue, was accumulating pins from around the world. Pins were available not only for these current games but also for past Olympic games. Looking more closely, I saw people adorned with dozens of pins. Serious collectors had booths set up with collections of hundreds or thousands of pins.
“Dad, why do so many people have pins?” Caroline asked.
“Probably to remember how much fun they had in Atlanta.” I did not yet understand pin memorabilia.
“I want some pins.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Annie agreed.

So began our Olympic fun. We started by buying official Olympic hats and vests. Then I bought a few pins to seed Caroline's stock for her vest. I joined in by putting pins on my hat also. She soon learned how to talk with complete strangers to trade or buy more pins. A fun aspect of this game was haggling with foreigners who did not speak English. A common language became pointing at each other's pins and shaking heads to complete trades made with smiles. At trading booths, I was amazed at prices brought by pins from past Olympics. This was a serious hobby for many people. We also collected pins from Olympic volunteers wandering through crowds. An astounding 50,000 volunteers at over 247 locations across the state made these games possible. Everywhere we went, sponsors such as Cocoa Cola, many businesses, and various committees had their own pins to add to the treasure hunt.

We made our way to an arena to watch the first round of women’s gymnastics. This early round did not draw many people, so we moved from our assigned seats to seats closer to the floor. Caroline and I were excited to see our American team live with Bela Karolyi, the world’s top gymnastics coach. Watching warmups took us back to the gyms we had practiced in for many years. Being gymnasts, we were in awe of these athlete’s incredible skills.
Annie surprised us when she said, “Look over there. It’s Chelsea Clinton.”
Sure enough, Chelsea walked down nearby stairs to sit with several bodyguards not far from us.
“Cool,” I replied.
Caroline and I watched the elimination round of world-class athletes that day with great interest and concentration. They performed skills we had only dreamed of. I hoped she would be inspired to take her gymnastics to a higher level. Annie enjoyed seeing Chelsea and appreciated the fantastic stunts.

After the event, we wandered through various grounds and facilities, stopping regularly for Caroline to trade pins with worldwide visitors. After a while, Caroline told us she needed to go to the bathroom. We searched in vain for restrooms as she grimaced and squirmed. I was quite disappointed at the lack of toilets. In desperation, Annie gathered newspapers, then enlisted help from ladies from around the world in similar distress. They gathered under a tree, holding up newspapers in an international circle to form a tent. One by one, those ladies took turns behind the makeshift tent until all were relieved.
I had detected an unusual feeling when we entered the Olympic grounds but couldn't put my finger on it. That feeling grew stronger the longer we stayed. Watching those women work together for a common cause despite different languages helped me identify my strange feeling. Putting it into words is difficult, but here is my best description.

Unlike other sporting events, these spectators were not in a hurry, did not taunt other teams, were not grouchy while waiting in long lines, and cheered no matter who won an event. People throughout the Olympics showed good manners, smiled, talked to each other, traded pins, and had fun constantly. I saw no prejudice between people from different countries that generally would not get along. People worldwide had gathered purely for the love of sports and to support their heroes, despite any differences in nationality, politics, or religion. Negativity was left at the gates, bringing only optimism and happiness inside. I noticed this unification of purpose to be a constant theme throughout our week in Atlanta. It was as if a beautiful aura covered the Olympic grounds. Later I wondered if this aura covered all Olympics or just this one. When I visited the 1980 Lake Placid Winter Olympic site several years later, I felt a similar aura as I walked through its Olympic village. While watching an international skating event in Lake Placid that night, I felt the same togetherness and support for sports that I had experienced in Atlanta. I am confident this unifying aura followed all Olympic sites.

While taking a MARTA back to the Anderson's house, I was glad not to be driving on crowded highways. Another warm Southern meal awaited us when we arrived. We spent that evening with Michael’s friends, giving them a recount of our day. We filled them in, bringing much laughter when describing the newspaper tent. The Andersons offered us a supply of newspapers every day after that. They suggested we come back early the next day and go to Stone Mountain, Georgia's most famous tourist attraction.

On our second day, we attended a ping pong competition in the morning. I played serious ping pong over the years with moderate talent. My local club had a lady on the National Team who occasionally played with us. Play does not describe how good she was. Every member of the club would take turns trying to score one point against her, to no avail. Few of us could return her serve. She beat all of us 11-0. I looked forward to watching her against real competition. She won her first round, then went against a Chinese master that astounded me with incredible serves. The Chinese lady held the ball behind her paddle, then threw it ten feet into the air. The ball came down behind her cupped hand that hid the direction her paddle aimed. At the last second, the cupped hand moved, and she hit the ball with fast spins in a direction my friend did not expect. This dazzling display of world-class talent crushed my friend. We had fun cheering for someone I knew. After Caroline collected a few more pins, we returned to the Anderson’s house.

From there, we took a taxi to Stone Mountain, a few miles away. As we neared our destination, I watched a domed rock rise from the trees. This was not just a hill. It continued to rise and rise. When we stepped out of the taxi at the Stone Mountain State Park ground, my head lifted to almost vertical as I stared at the top of one of the largest rocks in the world. The grey, domed rock ascended to a stunning 825 feet height, measured five miles in circumference, and extended nine miles underground. Wow, I had to go on top of that.
“Are we going up there, Dad?” Caroline asked.
“Yes, we are,” I replied with a smile.
“I’m not climbing a mountain,” Annie said, looking at me suspiciously.
“There’s a trail to the top, but we won’t do that today. Follow me.”
I walked through a wooded area, following signs to a cable car landing.
Caroline saw cables reaching to the top of the rock and said, “Oh, fun.”
Annie turned to me to say, “You know I don’t like heights.”
"Just look at me, dear. Don't look down and everything will be all right. We'll be up there in no time."
“I don’t know. What if we fall off the top? It’s round.”
“No. It’s so big that the top is practically flat. Not to worry.”

As we took a fun ride in the cable car, Annie stared at me all the way, not daring to look down or around. At the top, she nervously stepped out of the car, glad to have her feet on solid ground. The spectacular view overlooking forests for miles in all directions reminded me of being in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Annie stayed near the cable car landing while Caroline and I walked around the top. With the mountain being a dome, it had no cliff-edge, just a slope that gradually became steeper. Fences and rails near those steep areas kept daring fools from falling off.
After exploring the dome’s top, we returned to Annie as the sun dropped toward forests.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
“Yes, we’re done. The sun will soon set, so let’s go.”
“Good. Let’s get off this mountain before dark.”

Back on flat ground, I pulled a blanket and sandwiches from my backpack. We walked to a grass field in front of the mountain’s most famous attraction, a Confederate Memorial Carving. Work had been undertaken from 1917 to 1972 to cut the largest bas-relief (a form of shallow carving) sculpture in the world into a side of Stone Mountain. The 90 feet high, 190 feet wide, and 42 feet deep carving depicts three Confederate leaders on horseback 400 feet above the ground – Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, and Stonewall Jackson.

We spread our blanket to have a picnic dinner while waiting for a nighttime laser show to begin. At 9:30, we were treated to an awe-inspiring 45-minute laser show depicting confederate soldiers charging on horseback into battle. Background music from Elvis Presley playing the heart-rendering American Trilogy filled me with proud American emotion even though I was neither Rebel nor Yankee. The spectacular show ended with Southern troops losing the battle as fireworks and spinning lasers lit the night. I left that night knowing I would never see a show like that again.
Over our next few days, we attended more gymnastics events and competitions in judo, track, and wrestling. We took the Andersons to dinner one night in return for their free accommodations and talked about Michael’s life. The next night we watched the girl's gymnastics finals at the Anderson’s house. Keri Strug bravely made her famous vault on a bad ankle to win the All-Around Gold Medal. After her vault, she collapsed, badly injured. The site of Bela Karolyi carrying her away and later carrying her to a podium to accept her medal became a defining moment of those Olympics.

The following day, Annie and Caroline walked in the Anderson's backyard while I stayed in the house. Suddenly I heard them screaming in terror. I ran outside and saw my girls surrounded by a swarm of wasps taking turns stinging them. I ran to Caroline and Annie and grabbed them as I swatted away the vicious bugs. We ran inside the house as wasps stayed on their clothes, caused the girls to continue screaming. I had the girls take their clothes off and jump in a shower to ensure all the wasps were gone. I smashed the remaining wasps climbing on the clothes on the floor. This was Caroline's first wasp experience, and she stayed afraid and hurting for a while. A couple of Benadryl's finally eased their pain. I went outside to hunt down the wasp nest. To my surprise, these wasps did not have a typical above-ground nest. Instead, they entered a hole in the ground to their underground nest.

Another part of the entertainment that week was numerous bands that played around the clock on stages outside the Olympic grounds. Atlanta’s people partied continuously, celebrating their Olympics southern style. When we finally left, Caroline’s pin collection covered her vest with several pounds of pins. Of the many memories from that week, one of the best was feeling an Olympic aura each day as we entered the grounds. The Olympic aura, combined with medals, pins, and athletes brought together for two weeks of international harmony, left me with memories of how the world can come together peacefully when property motivated.