Very soon Tiger Stadium will be no more. Of course, it has been gone for some time. Closed since the end of the 1999 season, the old ballpark has sat unoccupied and decaying on the corner of Michigan and Trumbull for almost a decade.
Last fall, demolition began on the stadium. The entire outfield and much of the first and third baselines have already met the wreckers ball. So for the past six months what's left of the stadium has been standing there like a death row inmate awaiting an executioner who is running late.
On Wednesday it was announced that the attempts of the Tiger Stadium Conservancy, to raise sufficient money to preserve the stadium had failed, and that demolition would begin shortly.
As expected some did not take the news easily. A small group of protesters lined up outside the last remnants of Tiger Stadium.
80 preservationists, historians and fans had gathered at the landmark. Holding signs that read “This place matters” and singing “Take me out to the ballgame,” some planned to stand guard at the stadium all night, afraid it would be knocked down or damaged after dark.
As a lifelong Detroiter, and a huge Tiger fan with an appreciation of history, I understand and share many of the feelings of the protesters. No viable plan, however, has come forth over the past decade. So I say, let it go.
I loved Tiger Stadium. For the last decade though it has existed only in my memories. Those never go away. I will always remember my first game. Not the game itself, but the feeling of walking in to that stadium for the first time. The thrill of all those people milling about in the dark, damp concourses. I remember emerging from that concourse, the field opening up before my nine year old eyes, and seeing the greenest grass I could ever imagine. The uniforms looked so white, the field so large, it was exhilarating.
I will not forget. There was the doubleheader we went to. Mom made burgers, because back then you could still bring your own food. Great times, going down to the stadium with my high school buddies, watching Mark "The Bird" Fidrych with 50,ooo raucous fans. Beach balls bouncing all over the centerfield bleachers. I will remember the players. Lolich, Kaline, Morris, Trammel, and Whitaker. Kirk Gibson jumping up and down rounding the bases after the homer in the '84 series. Those will always be with me, as they will for all of us who lived them. That's the joy baseball.
So raise a glass, and a bid a fond final farewell to the old gal. Just remeber that she has only been a memory for a while now. Detroit does not need more abandoned buildings in the city.
What lovely memories. Thanks for sharing them.
ReplyDeleteHaving moved so many times, I know that, if anything, buildings and 'place' can make memories more of an intellectual act of remembrance, rather than of emanating from within. When I travel back to any one the many places I have lived, I can look at a building and say, "That's where that happened." But it is a 'thinking' memory more than an emotional one. (At the same time, your descriptions sound like very sensory memories, so perhaps I am just cold. Can't see that though :) )
I think when people protest things like this, when it is obvious there is no pulse and the building should be laid to rest, that they are in fact protesting change and the feeling of losing control. So much change happens insidiously; there's no floodgate to force closed. When something as symbolically loaded as Tiger Stadium comes along, the feelings of outrage get focused.
Thank god there are people willing to stand vigil in the hopes of preserving the past. But it sounds like, in this case, the point of no return was reached a long time ago. Sorry for your loss.
(So, is this the construction you were referring to that will necessitate parking blocks from home?)
I'm a pretty sentimental guy. I get emotional and nostalgic thinking about the stadium, and the memories. Like any good baseball fan, I cry at Field of Dreams, and Pride of the Yankees.
ReplyDeleteWe have lost a lot of our traditions here already (probably more to come :( ) So I sympathize with the protesters, and if they had tried to raze the stadium immediately after the new one went up, I might have been out there with them. As time as passed, and no viable use has come to pass, I say let it go.
If they could have come up with a plan that would be a different story. In Pittsburgh, when they razed old Forbes Field, they managed to save the outfield wall. The wall was a brick, ivy covered wall, and they left it standing and built a park around it. Clever way to save some history, and making something new at the same time.
Ironically, ended up driving past the stadium one last time. Ginny (my wife) had an employment test to take for a job with the US Census Bureau. We ended up in the neighborhood of Tiger Stadium, and I had to go by one last time.
No this is not the construction we are dealing with. We are about 18 miles from Tiger Stadium. They are installing new water mains, and sewage system. Then repaving the entire street. We live on a small cul-de-sac, with only one small entry street to access our court. The work is going to be on both streets, and will take up to 14 weeks. For about 6 weeks, we will have to fight for parking on some adjacent streets.
Plus today as they started water main work, our drinking water has a lovely rusty hue, with a lovely hint of sediment. Off to buy bottled water. :) Have kind of a busy day. Probably won't be blipping until later. Talk with you soon. Take care Judy. :)
I hope you didn't think I was making light of your memories. I am a sentimental fool about so many things; I can imagine buildings being one of them, especially if I had spent my entire life in one place, and it was a building as significant as a basebell stadium. So I apologize if I didn't sound empathetic. Blip ya' later, Vince.
ReplyDeleteThe closest I can get (and it's not very) was visiting Mississauga, ON where I lived from age 9 to early 20's (minus time at university in Kingston, ON) and finding out that Dixie Arena had been razed. We used to go there on Friday nights to skate, and it was the first place a boy ever held my hand. Not the same but the best I can think of right now.
I love that they kept the wall in Pittsburgh. Really clever and respectful too. There was a beautiful old building in downtown Vancouver that had to be demolished. Pieces of it kept dropping onto unsuspecting pedestrians. (They had to put wire screens up.) I don't remember a lot of protest, but I've always admired that the architect basically kept the same lines as the old building, and also incorporated these beautiful statures that had adorned each corner of the old building. It's too bad nothing could have been salvaged of Tiger Stadium.
Speaking of salvage, don't know if this is an idea or not: There was an auction of the more decorative portions of the building I just described, and I knew a guy who bought a piece of ornamental stonework and put it in his garden. Is there any way you could acquire a piece of the stadium?
Glad to know that you cry at the end of 'Field of Dreams' and 'Pride of the Yankees'. I never understand the big deal people make (not just guys) over a man crying. Geezus! We're all human beings, aren't we? I'm not particularly fond of baseball and I bawl - BAWL - my eyes out when Kevin Costner asks his dad if he wants to 'catch'. For me, that taps into wishing I could have another chance to spend time with my with my dad, who died in 1992, just as I was really starting to get to know him as a person and not just as a dad.
I can sympathize re: the sewers. We went through that too (used to be on septic.) This is my seventh summer in this neighbourhood (I've lived in two different houses on this street - more long stories) and there has yet to be a quiet one. It's pretty clear that this won't be the year.
Nothing like rust-tinged water. Hey...think of it as an iron supplement. When I lived in Vancouver ('87-98), when the November rains hit, we used to get a lot of sediment in our water. "It's perfectly safe", they'd tell us, but ewww. You first buddy.
Okay. Enough. I'm off to read your latest post. You sure have 'em coming fast and furious now. Good for you. It takes me weeks (months, years) to finish anything.
Ahem...The "Blip ya' later, Vince" was supposed to come at the end. Operator error. J.
ReplyDeleteI did not think you were making light at all. In a way you made the point I was trying to make initially.
ReplyDeleteThe building itself is a place that symbolizes the actual memory. Part of the problem with salvaging any portion of the stadium is that the building itself was not architecturally interesting outside of characteristics related to the game. Not going to get all baseball geeky on you. Suffice it to say there was no beautiful brick wall to be used. There was no attractive or distinctive entry facade, to utilize as an entry to a shopping area. What are you going to do?
I have never been afraid to admit tearing up at movies. Although it is a little embarrassing to admit getting choked up at the end of romantic comedies, like Sleepless in Seattle. :) I also tear up watching Cinema Paradiso, and I think that relates to watching it for the first time with my dad. It was one of the only times I ever saw him choke up. I'm sure it is because it reminded him of his childhood in Italy. I lost him in 2001, so I know a little how you feel.
I see you noticed I got around to updating my profile. Told you this was a work in progress :). And yes I do love most Bogie movies.
Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciated the compliment about my writing.
Talk with you again soon.
I only saw my dad tear up a couple of times. Once, quite naturally, when my brother died. Perhaps the only real crying I ever saw him do. (My brother was 25 when he died. I was 21. He'd been born with a heart condition, and wasn't supposed to live past age 2. So I see it as a triumphant story. But that's for another time.)
ReplyDeleteI saw my dad tear up when my parents and I visited the 'soda shop' where they met. The man who owned it back then was still there, and he remembered my parents. I was 15. I tear up when I think of that. I'm glad I was there to witness it. Sounds strange, but I think you know what I mean.
And a time that is dear to me: when I left TO for Calgary in 1986. I think it was a combination of knowing he was going to miss me, but also envying me my ability to head out on an adventure (one of my so-called "fresh starts"). He would have loved to do what I was doing. I remember being surprised. I didn't know I could have that kind of effect on him.
Anyhow, I'm taking you way off-topic. Not sure if that's okay. Want to respect the blog and all that.
(I do want to comment on your posting today, but will wait til tomorrow. I was quite moved by it. And, yes, you do write very well.)