An Olympic Memory

Atlanta hosted the Olympics in 1996, back when the budgets for them weren’t quite so gigantic, and they needed kids to be a part of the opening ceremonies. A letter came out in our backpacks one day, and while I don’t remember this clearly, my parents and teacher all recall how immediately intent I was on being a part of it. Practice, rehearsals - I think I figured out it was a special thing and immediately asked to go. Well, they ran a lottery for the slots and my friends Anna and Parker (and maybe some others?) won places. I didn’t, but my enthusiasm got me noticed, and thanks to some fortune, I had an opportunity to join up.

I don’t remember much, but a few things stick out. Riding on the bus next to Anna when we went to pick her sister up at another elementary school I had never been to before, and listening to the people on the big platform constructed on the seats in the stadium as they directed us. Hot days under the sun at high schools practicing our places, the envy I had of the kid that just had to stand on a guide dot. The chaotic day they took away the dots - and the amazing smoothness of the second run-through when we realized we still knew where to go. I remember the seemingly giant tunnels under the stadium in my seven year old eyes,  the embarrassment of changing into my costume in a small space with all of these moms everywhere, leaving the stadium through the firework zone while they were going off - and watching one hit the driveway in front of us, and then getting home while the parade of nations was still going on. The sadness when I didn’t get a flashlight for our closing ceremony number, and the excitement when I watched the X gamers practice their craft by the stadium.

But most of all I remember the feeling of running out of our tunnel and seeing the infinite stars of camera flashes around the stadium, the likes of which we’ll likely never see thanks to the modern smarkphone. There was also a little thought in the back of my head that I enjoyed - “I could just run THAT way and the entire world would see me!” - but did not heed. I remember the sounds of John Williams, our accompaniment to so many hours of making our dove flap. And it all happened because of enthusiasm.