September 14, 1952

It's a shame, isn't it? Just when a problem in Syracuse is at its worst, a movie title has to come out and remind us of the glory days. Bob Costas announced on Football Night in America last week that "hard to imagine...back in the fifties and sixties, the 'Cuse was a...powerhouse," only to be followed minutes later by an ad for the film with the title across the screen, driving the point home. The only relief is that this movie title is going to disappear rather quickly once it opens, especially when "The Express" muscles its way through the crowded box office in a few more weeks. That's right: while Syracuse celebrating the star-studded premiere of the Ernie Davis biopic in the shadow of the embarrassing Syracuse football program, others of us were discovering how the downtown parking dilemma might have been influenced by a Liverpool street named Lakeview Terrace*.

On September 14, 1952, a special National Home Week section in the Syracuse Herald-American announced the opening of a model home in a new housing tract just off of Old Liverpool Road. Sold by Fazio Real Estate, the homes were the most recent built by Attilio Giarrusso, who had developing the area since the forties. The 208 acres of land, which had once been a central location of salt production in Syracuse (and named Galeville after Thomas Gale, who was once the largest manufacturer of solar salt in the United States as well as the last man to manufacture salt from the brine of Onondaga Springs), had been sold to the Melvin brothers in 1941, who in turn sold 90 acres to Ono-Lake Homes--a four-person enterprise headed by Giarrusso--in 1942. According to a February 15, 1942 Syracuse Herald-American article, during the first phase of construction, 500 one-family "Victory Homes" were built on the tract for a total cost of $2,500,000. The $4,450 homes could be purchased with a $450 down payment, with the remaining $4000 mortgage (insured by the Federal Housing Authority) payable at $33 a month for 20 years. The houses were to be on "lots not less than 50 by 125 feet" and "on the first floor of each house [would be] a living room, two bedrooms, kitchen with dinette and a modern bathroom." The land, which had been most recently used for "farm purposes," was to "be laid out in winding drives, with lots of various shapes... ten different house facades [had] been chosen, which, with different paintings, [would] give variety to the homes." The contractors had long-range plans to build up to 1,400 homes on the 90 acres, and there was no doubt that all could be sold, as Syracuse had a housing shortage of at least 2,500 by the mid-forties (Syracuse Herald-American, May 19, 1946). Ten years later, the area was growing even more rapidly with the opening of the General Electric plant at Electronics Park, so Giarrusso offered more luxurious housing options. Built on "the landscaped slope above Onondaga Lake Parkway," the Lakeview Terrace ranch homes were 70 feet wide, 28 feet deep, on a lot 160 feet wide by 100 feet deep. According to an October 26, 1952 Syracuse Herald-American ad, the features of the Lakeview Terrace homes included:

• Large Living Room with Fireplace
• Three Bedrooms
• Glass Tiled Bathroom
• Hot Water Baseboard Heating
• Custom Birch Cupboards in Kitchen
• Full Basement with Fireplace
• Flagstone Patio
• Two-Car Garage

All this could be yours for $27,500! ($227,353.40 in 2008 dollars)

Now Giarrusso had been correct in predicting the demand for homes in the area, but $27,500? How was it that when the same October 26 real estate section advertised houses in Fairmount Hills priced from $9,800 to $12,500 and Fayetteville for $12,500, a ranch home with a view of polluted Onondaga lake was fetching twice as much as others for sale in the Syracuse suburbs? Were "Custom Birch Cupboards" the granite countertops of the day? Perhaps it was due to the other fact mentioned in the September 14 ad: an announcement for "The New Galeville Shopping Center."

Galeville had long had a grocery store, but a suburb wasn't truly a suburb until it had its own "shopping center" (i.e. strip plaza). The ad itself states "a convenient shopping center for this rapidly growing community is badly needed." Not only did Attilio Giarrusso and Anthony Fazio plan to build a 25 store shopping center on a parcel of land opposite the entrance to Lakeview Terrace, but they also offered this extra bonus to potential home buyers and shoppers: a 1000-car parking lot.

Now, you didn't need any electronic wonders from General Electric to realize that the approximate distance from the furthest parcel of land on Lakeview Terrace to the site of the potential shopping center was 1/10th of a mile. According to Google maps, that's a three-minute walk. Or, if driving to the 1,000-car parking lot, a staggering 47 seconds.

The American Dream, as it was being sold to thousands of young Syracuse couples in 1952, was a home that would be a 47-second drive away from a shopping center. True, I do believe this proximity will eventually lead to a revival of inner ring suburbs in light of increasing gas prices, but this was hardly the thought back in the 1950s. In fact, while the site of the future Galeville Shopping Center was caught up in a court battle with Galeville Grocery in early 1953 (Arthur Tucci, owner of Galeville Grocery, obtained a court order to stop work on the center, claiming that part of the property was a right-of-way; the judge later denied Tucci's request for a permanent injunction), construction began on another shopping center one-half mile (ten minute walk) down Old Liverpool Road. The Liverpool Shopping Center opened on November 5, 1953, complete with a Market Basket supermarket, Carl's Drugs and relatively measly 300-car parking lot.

So when Syracuse has been considering 3 minutes too long to walk for fifty-five years, it's no wonder that parking situation in downtown seems terrible. Even if, say, there were actual stores and attractions downtown, it has been ingrained in the Syracuse (and American) psyche for over a half-century not to walk three minutes when a 47 second drive will do. And while Galeville Grocery apparently has been holding strong since 1888, the truth is that most stores that offer 1000-plus parking are never going to offer any sense of history of the city, or more important, identity. Could an orange carpet premiere have been held at any theater in Syracuse other than the Landmark? I mean, would you really want the takeaway image of Syracuse to be a orange carpet rolled down through the Food Court and up the escalator to the movie theaters at Carousel Center?

It's unclear to me whether the Galeville Shopping Center ever came to be, or at least how it was originally conceived. A September 11, 1955 Syracuse Herald-American article mentions that one of the buildings in the "group store development of Attilio Giarusso" had been bought by contractors Frank Malvasi & Fred Vicari, who in turn leased it to the Lakeview Recreation Center. The 12-lane bowling alley burned to the ground ten years later, on December 30, 1965. Malvasi & Vicari also leased a plot of land on the corner of Old Liverpool Road and Beechwood Road to Sun Oil Company in late 1955 (The Post-Standard, December 4, 1955), and there is a Sunoco station operating on the site to this day. Liverpool Shopping Center is now known as Liverpool Plaza, with a Family Dollar in the former Market Basket location. And my Google Maps Street View shows that the homes of Lakeview Terrace - as well as the many "Victory Homes" throughout the surrounding neighborhoods--are still there as well. So when those residents grab some snacks from their Custom Birch Cupboards and sit down in their Large Living Rooms to watch the Syracuse football game this week, they may be so upset that they want to throw their television set in their one of two Fireplaces. To which I suggest: try a three-minute walk instead! Not only will you advance more yards than the team has for the entire season, but you can burn off steam much like the salt kettles that once defined Syracuse, long before football ever did.

*If it wasn't clear enough, I am referring to the title of the film only.

August 25, 1957

Is it me, or does the idea of burying a time capsule at the New York State Fair seem like a bit of an oxymoron? I mean, how nostalgic can it be to unearth a decades-old time capsule when the top pop groups of the era are most likely playing at Chevy Court or the Grandstand? I know, I know, the person who started a blog to lament the loss of Syracuse past disrespecting the 162 year old fair is a bit of an oxymoron itself, but to me, growing up, it always seemed what the Fair was passing off as tradition came across more like lack of imagination. I suppose if Syracuse--or my life--had been hard-charging and chaotic for the other 50 1/2 weeks of the year, then I could have appreciated the sameness of the Fair experience as a constant, like classic comfort food, but as Syracuse itself seemed static and stuck in (post-urban renewal) time during my childhood/teenage years, the Fair came across as a celebration of the safety of routine.

Plus, it signified the end of summer, and that always sucked.

In 1957, though, the Railroad Committee of Central New York had change on their minds, and decided to have at least one new exhibit for 2007 - the opening of a time capsule. According to an August 25, 1957 article in the Post-Standard, the Committee expected to receive predictions of American life and rail transportation in the year 2007 from President Eisenhower, New York Governor W. Averell Harriman, and leaders of New York State industries and government. To make certain that the capsule was not lost, the rail committee would "place a marker and moving hooks on the cement encasement."

As far as I know, this time capsule was not unearthed at last year's Fair (Bowzer's Ultimate Doo Wop Party notwithstanding). Perhaps this is because, unlike the last time capsule discovery (which has since been duly noted by the Onondaga Historical Association), it's rather questionable whether this time capsule was even buried. There are no further mentions of the capsule in any newspaper. Also, the article specifically states that predictions were "expected" from various leaders. As the 1957 fair began five days later after the publication of this article (August 30-September 7, 1957), shouldn't they have had this information by August 25?

It's probably just as well that it wasn't dug up (or even buried), because what a midway buzzkill it would be to have to hear predictions of high-speed and maglev trains criss-crossing the country at speeds up to 300 mph. On the other hand, train travel was well on the decline by 1957, as the Interstate Highway System had been authorized the year before, and the automobile was the main means of passenger transport. The trolleys in Syracuse had been gone for fifteen years. The Cold War was in full swing: the capsule itself was made of Pyroceram, so that "neither termites nor hydrogen bombs [would] be a threat to destruction." Given that August 1957 was a mere three months prior to the Sputnik launch, and that the theme of the 1957 NY State Fair was "today's youth--tomorrow's industry" (Syracuse Herald-Journal, August 29, 1957), it's quite possible that the leaders of the time saw grander transportation visions, such as:

• "vertical landing and takeoff of all vehicles" (A prediction for transit in the the 1970s by Metropolitan Development Association president John Searles, The Post-Standard, January 27, 1969)

• A downtown Syracuse heliport, to make possible rapid transport to downtown from Hancock Field, as "it seems a safe prediction by 1970, local helicopter service will be possible between Syracuse and such nearby communities as Rochester, Oswego, Watertown, Utica, Binghamton, Ithaca, Elmira, Geneva, Canandaigua and others."(Councilman Williams S. Andrews, quoted in the Syracuse Herald-American, April 18, 1965)

• "Underground or overhead railed mass transit systems or improved buses, with flexibility to run on tracks or normal highways." (John Searles, with more predictions for transit in the 70s, The Post-Standard, January 27, 1969)

• A statewide network of monorails, establishing "rights-of-way throughout the state, following major highway and railroad routes." The system, as proposed by Utica warehouse operator Gale A. Lytle, Sr. and Syracuse engineer John J. Barry, would operate 24 hours a day, seven days a week, with shuttle buses running from downtowns and suburban areas to monorail stations. Lyle believed that the high-speed system would serve 80% of the New York population, and could travel from Buffalo to New York City in a little over three hours. There would be two major routes: one connecting Albany to Buffalo (and Canada), and the other would be a "scenic route" that would run through the Adirondacks from Utica to Montreal using the old Pennsylvania railroad right-of-way. Lyle and Barry thought that the monorail could be completed in two to three years, using highway contractors working on highway projects that would be cancelled in order to build the monorail. (The Post-Standard, June 17, 1971; Syracuse Herald-American, February 17, 1974)

• A station-wagon rigged with railroad wheels, riding the Erie Lackawanna tracks from the State Fairgrounds through downtown and out to Jamesville during the evening commute, as part of an experiment for the importance of commuter rail transit spearheaded by Democratic candidate for city Common Councilman-at-Large Lee Alexander. Reporters rode along in the station wagon (substituting for a rail car) for "a ride so easy it was dull." Alexander expressed concern that the "Onondaga Interchange," then under construction, would only be the beginning of a city covered with highways and traffic jams. According to Alexander. Erie Lackawanna officials expressed a willingness to lease the tracks, and money was available under the National Transportation Act. (Syracuse Herald-American, October 16, 1966).

• "Budd cars", available for loan from manufacturers, used on an experimental basis on the New York Central and Erie Lackawanna tracks. In a direct request to City Council President Roy D. Simmons, Councilman-at-Large Lee Alexander asked that a special Council committee be named to study the the "transportation crisis," as "a mass transit system capable of moving thousands of people through the city comfortably and efficiently...[was a] necessary factor for the survival of metropolitan centers such as Syracuse." The cars could be purchased via federal government funds specified for such a purpose, and inexpensive parking areas could be established in the suburbs, allowing commuters to ride the train for a reasonable fare into downtown. Alexander further stated that "a city's failure to provide a mass transit system compels the use of autos as the only means of transportation. If the auto remains the only available means of transportation, then we can expect greater reductions in our tax rolls as more and more space is devoted to highways and parking lots." (The Post-Standard, January 4, 1967, Syracuse Herald-Journal, February 13, 1967)

• As "an insurance for the future," doing studies on the steps that need to be taken for acquiring the existing railroad rights-of-way and holding them in case they are ever needed. (The mass transit committee of the Greater Syracuse Chamber of Commerce, Syracuse Herald-American, January 29, 1967)

• Purchasing abandoned railroad rights-of-way and saving them for future use. If not used for transit purposes, rights-of-way could be used as "hiking trails, bicycle and bridle paths and for other recreation purposes." (A request made by seven state senators to Governor Rockefeller, The Post-Standard, March 24, 1967)

• Reestablishing the trolley routes, but with electric trackless trolleys - buses with electric motors that receive their power from overhead wires, as the original Syracuse trolleys did. County Legislator John J. Haley believed that with increasing gas prices, people would be driving less, and diesel costs would be prohibitive for buses. New water-powered electricity generating facilities under construction in Canada would mean cheaper electricity for Syracuse, and capital costs of building the overhead wires could be supported by a Federal grant through the Urban Mass Transportation Administration. (The Post-Standard, February 27, 1980)

• A light rail system from northern Oswego and Onondaga communities to downtown Syracuse (Centro chief Warren Frank, discussing the future of transit in Syracuse, Syracuse Herald-Journal, June 19, 1980)

• A monorail or "series of gondolas" that would travel between the Carrier Dome, Hotel Syracuse and downtown. Under Centro chief Warren Frank's plan, the monorail could start travel through the Hotel Syracuse (similar to Disneyworld's monorail), as well as fifth floors of the Carrier Tower and MONY tower. Stops would then include the Civic Center and the War Memorial, before moving on to the hospital complex on Adams Street, and the Carrier Dome, "perhaps into a lobby." Several skybridges would also be built across Warren Street, to tie into the skybridges crossing South Salina Street. Eighty percent of the system would be built with federal dollars, and the rest with state and local funds. (Syracuse Herald-Journal, March 20, 1979)

And even if the ideas weren't similar to these, you have to think that if all the President, Governors, and leaders of industry could come up with was Amtrak and OnTrack, they wouldn't have bothered with the state-of-the-art time capsule. Civilization is destroyed due to a hydrogen bomb, and a failing/failed rail system is what would be left as a blueprint for transportation to any possible future generations?

Exactly fifty-one years after the time capsule mention, the Post-Standard once again printed an article regarding rail and the New York State Fair. In Sean Kirst's column on August 25, 2008, several Syracusans discussed their hopes and dreams for Syracuse with Kirst at this year's Fair. Once fairgoer lamented the loss of OnTrack, which he felt "with a little more imagination, could have been a tool to energize downtown." Democratic candidate for Congress Dan Maffei expressed a wish for a high-speed rail line between the Upstate cities and New York City. While Mr. Maffei's campaign slogan is a "A New Congressman, A New Direction," the wish for a high-speed line between the cities, is, unfortunately (as you can read above), not very new at all. But perhaps this time, the new direction can be this: before the speeches, before the studies, head to the Center of Progress at the New York State Fair. Not the building with the Ginsu knife and shower cleaner demonstrations, but the true Center of Progress: the location of this time capsule, if there's the slightest chance it is there. Unjaded by fifty years of mass transit rejections and failures, perhaps these buried predictions can get us on the right track again.

August 23, 1981

There's a fine line between euphoria and mania, and the American media has certainly crossed it with the Michael Phelps phenomenon. Eight gold medals in one Olympics is an amazing feat, but why does this mean that Michael Phelps is suddenly the Greatest Olympian and/or Athlete Ever? How are we to compare what Michael Phelps has done in the pool to what Tom Brady does on the football field, or Tiger Woods on the golf course? And how can we compare a sport that allows for one athlete to win eight medals, when the majority of Olympic sports only have one opportunity for one medal (including the ten-event decathlon)? Have we reduced the measure of athletic greatness to the amount of hardware and magazine covers an athlete receives? Are we simply saying that the greater the spectacle, the greater the achievement?

What is indisputable is that every Olympics needs its narrative, and Michael Phelps has certainly provided it for this games. Given that Syracuse is also currently searching for a storyline, perhaps we should also take a moment and ask, what is the measure of greatness for a city? Arenas? Bruce Springsteen concerts? Arenas that can host Bruce Springsteen concerts? While we all may have a hungry heart for The Boss and similar big-name events, we also occasionally bite off more than we can chew. Case in point: the NFL exhibition game between the New Orleans Saints and Philadelphia Eagles in the Carrier Dome, August 23, 1981.

1981 was a banner year for sports in Syracuse. Not SU sports necessarily (SU football had a 5-6 record, leading to the resignation of seven-year coach Frank Maloney), but the Carrier Dome was transforming Syracuse into a nationally-recognized sporting venue. By August 1981, Syracuse had hosted a Sugar Ray Leonard-Larry Bonds welterweight title fight (attended by 21,000 and broadcast on HBO), the National Sports Festival and the Empire State Games, not to mention record-setting crowds for SU football and basketball. So when it was announced in March 1981 that the New Orleans Saints and Philadelphia Eagles would be playing their third (of four) preseason game in the Carrier Dome, the news seemed to be earning Syracuse a reputation as, in the words of a Post-Standard editorial headline on July 16, 1981 headline, a "Sports Fans' Paradise." The Eagles were the reigning NFC champions, having lost to Oakland in Superbowl XV the past January. The Saints, unfortunately, had earned their nickname "the Aint's" the season prior, having lost 15 of their 16 regular season games. But the offseason had brought a new coach, O.A. "Bum" Phillips, as well as the top draft pick, 1980 Heisman Trophy winner George Rogers. There were stars on both sides of the field, including Eagles QB Ron Jaworski, Saints QB Archie Manning, Eagles cornerback Herm Edwards and coach Dick Vermeil. For 12 (endzone) or 16 (sideline) bucks, Syracuse had an incredible opportunity to see the NFL live in action, or so thought industrialist and philantropist J. Stanley Coyne, who underwrote the matchup as a charity game for ARC. For all ticket sales above the cost of upfront expenses, the profits would go to ARC. A tally of these expenses:

• Guaranteed payment to Philadelphia Eagles: $150,000
• Additional payment to the Eagles if the stadium sold out: $25,000
• Guaranteed payment to New Orleans Saints: $150,000
• Travel expenses for both teams: $70,000
• Payment to Syracuse University (for dome rental, ticket-handling, busing and promotional expenses): $127,000
• Miscellaneous expenses (advertising, etc.): $40,000
• Syracuse Herald-Journal realizing on March 26, 1981 that having $562,000 in upfront costs for a charity game would require a minimum attendance of 35,000 to generate at least a $10,000 donation to ARC: priceless

What's striking is that Coyne, an entrepreneur who started his business during the Depression, entered into this obvious losing proposition. While the National Sports Festival could be considered a loss leader due to the long-term investment and exposure, the same could hardly be said for a one-time game that was intended to raise money for a charity. Disappointing developmentally disabled children in front of a national television audience doesn't exactly sell a city to the nation. Perhaps Coyne had been inspired years earlier by the Cerebral Palsy Clinic games of the late 40s/early 50s (organized by attorney Lionel Grossman), when near sell-out crowds of 22,000 attended NFL exhibition games at Archibold Stadium, including the final 1953 matchup between the Pittsburgh Steelers and then-national champions Detroit Lions. Given the increase in Syracuse population in the thirty years since, as well as the increased popularity of the NFL, Coyne may have assumed that the Dome would easily sell out 50,000 seats. Coyne flew Bum Phillips up to Syracuse for two press conferences, flew newspaper reporters down to New Orleans for a series of pre-game articles, and commissioned sculptor Buck Warren to carve a 25-foot high, 7 1/2 ton rose to carve out of California redwood as a gift to the Rose Bowl, to be presented during the Eagles/Saints halftime. Coyne did present this sculpture to the director of the Rose Bowl at halftime in the Dome, in front of Mayor Lee Alexander, County Executive John Mulroy and a grand total of 28,001 ticketholders.

If Syracuse's loss had only been a half-empty stadium on national television (NBC) for all of the country--save for the blacked-out areas in Central New York--to see, then it really wouldn't have been any worse than the 36-7 beating the Eagles gave the Saints. Think of it this way: if 1981 was Michael Phelps' 2004 Athens' games, then this would be the bronze disappointment compared the gold-medal performances of the Bonds-Leonard fight, the National Sports Festival, and the Empire State Games. But the players in this sport treated the bronze in a manner similar to wrestler Ara Abrahamian, stomping off and placing blame in a public forum, much to everyone else's discomfort and unease. Feeling bad that ARC would get no money from this charity game, Benedict LeStrange, executive vice president of Coyne International Enterprises, hit up representatives from the Eagles and Saints for $10,000 donations each at a cocktail party the night before the game. After calling team owners', each team complied. Coyne himself wrote ARC a check for $5,000. Coyne told reporters he "couldn't understand" why attendance was low, stating that "The public has been hollering for a pro team...we had two great teams and a great stadium. I don't know why it didn't fly." (The Post-Standard, August 24, 1981). LeStrange echoed the statement, saying "This town is maybe not ready for professional football. Maybe we built too big a stadium." (The Post-Standard, August 22, 1981). Coyne also blamed NBC for changing the game from a Saturday night (August 29)--which he believed surely would have brought a sell-out crowd--to a Sunday afternoon (although NBC paid the Coyne foundation $50,000 prior to the game for this switch, and August 29 would have fallen during the State Fair). Dome publicity director Mike Holdridge faulted the National Sports Festival for "draining dollars" away from the game, as the festival had "saturated the Syracuse sports market for the summer" (Syracuse Herald-Journal, August 24, 1981). Syracuse Herald-Journal editorial writers agreed, contending that "the abundance of first-quality sports attractions in Syracuse this summer just depleted the average fan's budget." (Syracuse Herald-Journal, August 25, 1981). The editorial writers also criticized the Coyne foundation for setting such high ticket prices, as well as the New England Patriots, for pulling out of their original agreement to play the Eagles (even though the Patriots paid a $25,000 fee to the Coyne foundation for breaking the agreement). Sports columnist Arnie Burdick maintained the loss of money was due to waiting to July to sell tickets to the general public, allowing only season ticket holders to purchase tickets prior to this time (Syracuse Herald-Journal, August 24, 1981). He also questioned why Coyne agreed to such an "unfavorable, 'can't-win' contract," including not getting any percentage of the ancillaries (concessions, parking, program, etc.). Syracusans as a whole were taken to task in a number of articles and editorials prior to the game for not contributing to charity by purchasing tickets, and thus causing harm to Syracuse's status for hosting future exhibition games. And yet in all of the finger-pointing, no one ever stopped to ask one simple question:

Why was Syracuse hosting an NFL exhibition game between the Philadelphia Eagles and New Orleans Saints?

In 1953, the last year Syracuse hosted an NFL exhibition game, football was not widely televised. The Super Bowl was still 14 years away. Exhibition games (which numbered six in the years prior to 1978) in non-league cities were a means to promote the sport, as well as earn money for the team. By 1981, the teams were primarily doing out-of-town exhibition games as moneymakers (the Eagles were supposedly offered $450,000 to play in Los Angeles the same weekend as the Syracuse game, but honored their original commitment). Of course, if money was made after the upfront costs, these profits would benefit the city (or charity), and the city did get national exposure (more that 40 newspapers and 30 radio stations were at the Dome for the Eagles/Saints game). In recent years, preseason games are not only primarily held at one of the playing team's venues, but are also scheduled such that no team has to travel extensively. (An exception to this, of course, was the pre-season game between Buffalo and Pittsburgh in Toronto, part of the $78 million deal for Buffalo to play 5 regular season and 3 preseason games in Toronto over the next 4 years. It should be noted that the August 14 exhibition game only drew 48,000 attendees, with over 15,000 tickets being given away for free.) Even in 1981, exhibition games were known for being played mostly by second and third-stringers, players that would be cut at the end of pre-season and never to be heard from again. The Eagles/Saints games was a slight exception in that it was the third pre-season game, which usually features more veteran players (Manning and Jaworski played until the third quarter). But exhibition games are somewhat reluctantly attended at home stadiums, so why would there be 50,000 Syracusans who would want to see Philadelphia and New Orleans? Only 150,000 wanted to see the National Sports Festival, and that included 33 sports over six days. SU students, which were obviously a large part of sell-out dome crowds, had just returned to campus. And if the main selling point was to see NFL players up close and in action, well, the New Orleans Saints held open practices in the Dome for the two days prior to the game, complete with autograph sessions, which anyone could attend for free (and over 500 did).

Yet beyond the matter of bad planning, there's another underlying issue of even greater concern. In an August 20, 1981 letter to the Post-Standard by William Hanbury, director of the Convention and Visitors Bureau, Hanbury wrote that if the Eagles/Saints event was successful, there would be a chance of hosting even more exhibition games in the future, starting with Cleveland and Buffalo in 1982. These exhibition games would "contribute to Syracuse's continued growth as 'Sports Town USA " (August 20, 1981). By using a phrase like "Sports Town USA," does Hanbury sound like he is aiming for Syracuse to be a city that carefully recruits and selects sporting and other significant events that benefit both host and guest, or a theme restaurant where big name athletes make an appearance once or twice a year, and overpriced, generic hamburgers are the stars of the show for all the rest?

On February 19, 1967, a letter from Noreda A. Rotunno, Professor Emeritus, Landscape Architecture at Syracuse University, appeared on the Syracuse Herald-American Opinion page. While it had been written in response to an earlier editorial regarding a new city hall design, she offered this closing advice:

I sincerely hope that in the rebuilding of our downtown Syracuse, and, in fact, any development within the city, we do not approach it as we would a circus, with spectaculars along the midway and barkers proclaiming that we have the largest glass building, the largest pile of concrete cubes, the greatest forest of concrete piers or more "spaghetti roads" than in any city in the state.

It behooves us to weigh carefully each decision on any project and to relate this decision to what we presently have and what we anticipate having in the future.

All of our new developments must not only be beautiful, functional and economical in themselves, but must be compatible with all the characteristics that we like to believe Syracuse represents, economically, socially, industrially and culturally, and at the same time be complimentary to the natural beauty of the area.

Such developments, buildings, building complexes and outdoor areas must go beyond our present level of appreciation, but should not be "too far out" for the sake of publicity.

The day after Michael Phelps won his 8th gold in prime-time glory, Stephanie Brown Trafton, a third-place finisher in the Olympic trials, won one gold medal in the discus competition, the first US woman to do so since 1932. Stephanie herself wanted to be like Mary Lou Retton, until she grew to 6' 4", and had to find another sport to suit her strengths. While she may have won a gold just as her idol, Stephanie Brown Trafton will not be appearing on a Wheaties (or Corn Flakes) box, nor will she be an inspiration to thousands of little girls throughout the country to take up discus throwing. Let's be honest: after the closing ceremonies, chances are the American media won't mention her name again. But for those in her discipline, and all those who follow the unglamorous, rarely televised, but most ancient of sports, she is the story of these Games. A story that may never be a bestseller, but will also never be lacking for an audience.