Wednesday, June 27, 2012

My Time with the Torch

Ten years ago this week, I, like millions of others around the world, watched the pageantry, excitement and competition of the 2002 Winter Olympic Games in Salt Lake City, Utah. 


But I had a personal attachment to the games that I still proudly display in my basement.  I was an Olympic torchbearer.  At the time, I was a sportscaster for CBS affiliate KREM-TV in Spokane, Washington.  Our television station received a call only days prior to the torch coming to town asking if I we had a representative who wanted to take part.  Somehow, that honor fell to me.

The 1980 "Miracle on Ice" men's hockey team lights the cauldron
 Torch Relay information:
  • 11,500 torchbearers
  • 65 days (December 4, 2001-February 8, 2002)
  • 46 states
  • 13,500 miles from source of the Olympic flame in Olympia, Greece
  • 50th anniversary of the first Winter Olympic torch relay in the 1952 games in Oslo, Norway
The torch had its on specific design.  The top glass section stood for purity, winter, ice and nature.  The geometric copper feature inside the glass helped hold the flame.  The copper represented fire and warmth.  The center portion of the torch represented the silver mining heritage of the west.  The bottom shiny section represented future and modern technology.

I didn't find out until years later, when the glass portion suffer an unfortunate shattering accident, but I also had a personal connection to the torch itself.  In order to have the glass portion repaired, I sent it to the company that manufactured the torch--Coleman in Wichita, Kansas.  I worked for Coleman two different times in my teens and early twenties.  When I called to seek information for repairs, I talked to someone I actually worked with decades earlier.  Ironic, huh?     

Mark Holyoak:  My Time with the Torch
(originally published 02/1/2002 on KREM.com)

Wow!

Carrying the Olympic torch!

I couldn't believe it when I got the call, and I couldn't believe it as I ran with it.

I arrived at Camp Chevrolet in downtown Spokane, the gathering point for my portion of the course, just before five o'clock Thursday evening.
After a quick live shot for the five o'clock news, I joined the other torchbearers to be briefed on the night ahead.
There were plenty of smiles, hugs and greetings as torchbearers, their friends, and family gathered; all eager to learn all they could about the piece of history they were about to carry.
I arrived at my assigned station, the intersection of Alberta and Upton streets, just before six o'clock.
There were already children, parents, grandparents, banners, posters and American flags on hand.
After getting work responsibilities, two more live shots, "out of the way," we all awaited the arrival of the torch.
Because the Olympic flame arrived some 30 minutes late on a flight from Alaska, it was late by the time it got to us.
But that didn't matter.
Wearing my Olympic torch relay running suit, I can't remember being the focal point of so much attention.

There were pictures, autographs, handshakes, and high-fives from young and old who both did and did not know me.
My wife and four children were there to share the moment, and that meant the world to me.
After being teased by two previous slow-moving vehicles with lights and sirens that passed by, the torch finally approached--some 25 minutes behind schedule.
 But that didn't matter either.

Yes, it was cold.  It was drizzly, but inside I was warm and nervous.

In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I was so nervous.

When the caravan arrived, adrenalin and excitement took over.

I was given the torch with my number, 93, on it.  An Olympic relay official opened a valve so the fuel freely flowed.
I held my torch up to another.
It was finally lit.


I turned and held it with two hands and walked some fifteen yards or so, savoring the moment before beginning to jog.

The two-tenths of a mile or four block run was easy--almost as if I was gliding down the street.

(You get that feeling when you're running downhill, as south-bound Alberta does.)

People cheered, they waved, flash bulbs went off.

I even hard some people call my name.  Thank you friends and KREM 2 viewers!
My support runner was also named Mark.  As he ran next to me, he said something to the effect of "Isn't this something?"

I couldn't disagree.
My legs never tired over the short jaunt, although the three and a half pound torch got a little heavy.

So I changed it from the right to the left hand over the last 100 yards.

All too soon, I reached the next exchange station.  My flame jumped over to the torch belonging to the next relay runner and my time with the flame was done.


The same Olympic official turned off the switch and the fire went out, but that's when the unexpected fun took place.

Because of my television responsibilities, I didn't join the rest of the torchbearers in the bus as the caravan made its way to Veterans Memorial Arena.

Instead, I was surrounded by many on-lookers who said things like, "Look, he's still got a torch!"

I called over everyone I could see, and all within the sound of my voice, so they could put a hand on the torch and take pictures.
What a special experience!



And it was made even more special as I could share it with so many others.
 
It was an honor, a privilege, and something I'll never forget.

As a bonus, I get to keep the shirt, hat, gloves and running suit.

On top of that, all torchbearers had the opportunity to purchase the torch they carried.  And you bet I did that.
Thursday, January 24, 2002--a day, a moment of Olympic history, and an event I will always remember.  (CLICK ON THE PHOTO BELOW TO SEE A VIDEO OF MY TIME WITH THE TORCH.)

Saturday, June 2, 2012

That's a Wrap; So Long KPAX


First to sign & date what is now the KPAX "Wall of Fame"
It is over!  My final day at KPAX was May 23, 2012.  That ended a run of nine years and five months at the CBS affiliate in Missoula, Montana.  It was also the final day of a television career than spanned 23 years and nine months.To be honest, it was a day that turned out to be a little different than I anticipated.  To accept my new position as public relations director at the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, I had to submit a 60 day notice at KPAX.  Those two months seemed to pass ever so slowly.  While I loved my time at KPAX, I also welcomed my new endeavour with a sense of excited anticipation.  You know, kind of like when you go to bed on Christmas Eve or when you know you're getting up early the next morning to go hunting.  So I entered the day with a "Let's get this done and move on" attitude.  It didn't quite turn out that way.

"Missoula Valley" by Monte Dolack
The TV station had a "going away" pizza party in the afternoon.  My wife and I wrote permission slips for our kids to leave Sentinel High School early so they could be there with us.  Almost everyone who worked at KPAX stopped in to enjoy some pizza and cake.  Bob Hermes, the general manager, took a moment to say some nice things to thank me for my time at the station.  My former co-anchor, Jill Valley, then presented my wife with a beautiful painting by Monte Dolack of the Missoula Valley.  They said I could either hang it in my new office or find a spot at home.  (When I got home that night, Lori already had it hung it up.)  Then I was asked to say a few words and I felt a lump in my throat as the realization finally started to sink in that I truly was leaving this fine group of people.

 

Jill & I.  Kicking butt & dominating the Missoula TV ratings for 9+ years.

As the day continued, I received phone calls and emails from friends wishing me good luck and congratulations on my final day on the job.  Numerous KPAX employees also stopped by my desk and said nice things as they wished me well.  When I arrived earlier in the day, Jill had left a bag of Doritos for me on my desk.  There were also several cards from KPAX folks that were quite touching.  The newsroom also presented me with a framed photo of the news team and Jill gave me a framed photo of the two of us taken during a University of Montana Homecoming parade. 

As I prepared myself, read over my scripts and went on set for my final 5:30 newscast, I was actually kind of nervous--something that rarely happens.  Before every break in the newscast, the control room showed a different member of the news staff in a recorded tribute.  They were both funny and touching.  Then, at the end of the newscast, they showed video of my farewell party from earlier in the afternoon.  Jill and Erin said a few words before I did the same.  I could see their eyes start to moisten a bit and I felt that lump in my throat return.

I played a softball game with my long-time teammates over my dinner break.  They each brought me a pound of bacon to celebrate the day so I'm set with about ten pounds of bacon for my breakfast future.  (Thanks fellas!)


Mmmm...bacon!

Back at the station, I finished up what had been about a week-long process of converting all of my old 3/4 inch, Beta, and DVC tapes of my television career into 23 DVDs.  The rest of the evening was devoted to cleaning out my desk, my paper files, deleting personal information off my computer, and forwarding contacts and some other digital files to my new email address.  As I would look at the clock, I'd think "Wow, only 90 more minutes to go and that's really it!"

 The late newscast rolled around and my wife and kids returned to the studio.  As Jill and I presented the news, it seemed like any other day until we again came across another set of "farewell Mark" tributes from my co-workers.  That's where the nervous excitement returned. 


Jeans & tennis shoes.  A comfortable anchor is an effective anchor.
Floor Director Wayne, always in control & always entertaining

Final preparations..

...someone is sad.

At the end of the newscast, I had the chance to present some of my favorite stories that I edited together earlier that evening which included the dancing bears, the fox that stole golf balls, my ride with the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds, the hockey shot of a puck that flew over the glass and landed in a fan's beer, and the famous trampoline bear.  Then my family joined me on set and I said thank you and goodbye to my KPAX family and our loyal viewers.  Again, Jill's and Erin's eyes moistened and I wasn't sure I would make it through the final thirty seconds.  But as happens in all newscasts, we got the "wrap" sign and that was it.  My television career was officially over.

 



My family joined me in the anchor chairs on set for some photos and then they went home. 





Back in the newsroom, I hugged my co-workers goodbye.  One by one they left and I remained alone to do some final video dubs.  It wasn't until about 11:30 p.m. that I finished.  Dubbing--finished!  Desk drawers--cleaned out!  Pictures--removed!  I walked out to my truck with four bags of stuff and drove away with KPAX in my rear view mirror.  That's a wrap folks.  My television career to faded to black.

An altered photo of the KPAX team sent in by a viewer. It still makes me chuckle.