2012...an amazing year

The past 12 months have been a blur in many respects but they have brought us some incredibly excitng and interesting happenings and events.

Nationally, we have re-elected a president who is facing some very hard challenges for any person.  We have to wish him well...for all our sakes.

The economy is slowly recovering and allowing most of us to breathe a little easier (even while standing on the edge of the cliff).

And our troops are coming home from the middle east...not a minute too soon.

Here in Seattle, we've been running a very fast race.

For most of the year, we've been celebrating the 50th Anniversary of Seattle's Coming-Out party at the '62 World's Fair.

The Space Needle and the Pacific Science Center have both been recognized over and over again for their influences on our city.

Sending someone into space for the Space Needle's 50th made international news.  Who would have ever thought that we would be talking about giving a person like you and me a ride in rocket.

Opening the most comprehensive collection of the works of famed artist Dale Chihuly was a great honor. It is a blazing presentation of color, form and substance.  Such a jaw-dropping experience and success for all involved, especially the city of Seattle.

Then came the Olympics. Working with the organizing committee for over a month was an unbelieveable experience.  Of the 10 Olympiads I've worked on, NONE have been better run than the London event.  Start to finish, it was a winner.

And for 6 more days, King Tut is making his final trip out of Egypt for the people of Seattle.  His stopover at the Pacific Science Center since last spring has broken all records and the Science Center is basking in the glory.

The fireworks around the world have already begun.  Sydney and Auckland started the ball rolling. By the time midnight gets to Seattle, people everywhere except Hawaii will have welcomed the new year.  We need a clean slate.  We need some common sense.  We need a vision of what we can make of 2013 and beyond. Coalescing is not easy but it's very effective.  Never has our world been so small.  Everything we do affects someone else. Let's make the most of it and brighten our future.  Happy New Year.

It's Thanksgiving

It’s getting dark outside.  The traffic began backing up at about noon today.  The day before Thanksgiving in the US is almost not a workday.  The phones don’t ring very often.  The email slows down and everyone seems to have a picture of roast turkey in their heads.  I will not be at the 6am door buster sale on Thursday morning.  It’s Thanksgiving, isn’t it?  “Black Friday” used to be the shopping day but now “Turkey Thursday” has become fair game for the merchants.  This used to a family holiday.  Now the commentators are all making jokes about the inevitable family squabbles when we all get together.  I’m sure it happens sometimes but it’s not what I remember.  My parents and grandparents are gone now but I can picture them very clearly in my mind.  We moved every year for a long time while I was growing up, but no matter where we were, we made the trip back to the farm.  It was a real homecoming. It was not a huge family gathering but with aunts and uncles and cousins and eventually grandchildren, we could put 20 or 25 people at a couple of big tables and one little one for the smallest of us.  It was a grand feast, making the side dishes while the turkey baked.  There was always a big discussion about how long to cook the bird.  It was always a difference of opinion but somehow it inevitably came out fine. Early on (read, many years ago) the Detroit Lions were the only professional football team that would play on Thanksgiving Day and they to work to find an opponent.  The dessert was planned for about the middle of the first quarter (I can’t wait to blog about Grandma’s pies, yum, yum).  Nothing much ever happened in the game until after that. Then maybe we would go outside at half-time and throw the ball around, "while the women talked". (Boy, will I hear about that remark!) The day dripped with tradition and it was really something to look forward to.  Maybe we’d even get a few flakes of snow or, even a snowstorm every few years. But it was just us.  All together. Enjoying each other’s company. There was love in the house. And it was a very American holiday. Purely American in fact.  It was Abraham Lincoln who made it so, during the Civil War yet. I like Thanksgiving.  I hope we’re not losing it to another commercialization that only points us to a special savings event. I’m already missing the left-over turkey between two slices of Wonder Bread with a lot of mayonnaise on both sides. Wonder Bread is gone and television is so full of entertainment, that there is hardly any time left to talk. I hope we do though. I hope we spend Thanksgiving day with people we love. It should be more than an American holiday.  It should be celebrated the world over, while we all take the day off from whatever we’re fighting for and simply enjoy the day together. I don’t know why I wrote this except that I noticed it was getting dark and I started to think about tomorrow and making the drive home. Let’s make it a good day. Happy Thanksgiving.

Breaking Barriers

About a month ago, we lost one of our most decorated soldiers.  Three tours in Vietnam as a combat medic, six purple hearts and three Silver Star medals for bravery changed Bill Koutrouba’s life forever.  He suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) as a result of his service and became a tireless advocate for the thousands who served and needed help from the condition.

Bill was 70 when he died and the last twenty years of his life were better because of a decision he made with a group of his peers to go back to the battlefields where their traumas occurred. In the late 1980’s, going back to Vietnam was not an easy proposition.  Our government still didn’t recognize the country.  The wounds from the war were still open and it wasn’t something that many people would talk about at all.

When newsman and documentarian Steve Smith called me to talk about the group of vets from American Lake Hospital in Tacoma who wanted to return with their therapists to the actual scenes that had traumatized them, I really didn’t know what to think.  Steve and I were both vets and had become friends through work. Therefore, immediately, we had a connection that carried us through what became an amazing,  life-altering project.

With the proper supervision, Steve had taken the group to see the movie “Platoon” and gotten their reactions for a story about PTSD. After that experience, the vets themselves decided they wanted to return to Vietnam but there were no sanctions, no clearances on either side and, of course, no money.

I jumped in with both feet and Steve and I eventually found a haven at the phone company that had a formal group of vets working to help the problems associated with PTSD.  With US West's primary funding and some additional foundation support, we were able to pitch PBS on a documentary about the project and pay for the trip as part of the filming.

Bill Koutrouba was a real sparkplug on the project, encouraging others to participate and to talk about their experiences.  The documentary, “Two Decades and a Wake-Up”, won an Emmy Award for us and, to this day, is still shown on many PBS stations on Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day.  There are even some VHS copies floating around on Amazon.

This was a ground breaking endeavor twenty years ago.  It broke down many of the barriers between Vietnam and the US.  It helped considerably to open a viable tourist industry in that country. And it started PTSD groups all over the US, who then took our lead and made trips back to the battlefields.

For me, it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime projects where all the stars are aligned and the timing is just right to make the world take notice.  All three major television networks sent crews on the trip and each ran a 5-part series on its evening news program after.  The New York Times wrote a full-page story in the Sunday paper and several follow-ups.  The Associated Press went along too and hundreds of papers around the world carried the reports.

The talk shows joined in, as well. Charlie Rose did an amazing interview with Bill Koutrouba and others.  But it was Nightline, in its heyday, that devoted a full hour to the trip, interviewing several of the vets, including Bill, and their therapists. As I was leaving the studio in Seattle after the broadcast, someone called me back in for a phone call. At first, I was afraid we had ruffled some feathers, but as it turned out the voice on the other end said, “Dan, this is Ted Koppel.” He thanked me for prompting the story and for getting everyone in the right place and then said, ”We have not had a story with this significant an impact since the hostage crisis.”  I really didn’t need the car to get home. I could have flown on my own.

We all went back to DC for congratulations from the President on down.  We even encountered John McCain in the Capitol and had a wonderfully engaging discussion in the hallways of Congress.  Our final stop was the Vietnam Memorial, which none of the vets had seen.  I walked over from our hotel in a driving rainstorm with Bill Koutrouba.  He and I had become friends through this process and, with my parents still living in DC, I had my dad join us the night before for dinner with the group. He and Bill made a heartfelt connection over a big plate of Italian food that made me especially proud.

When we reached the site of the memorial, I could feel Bill’s heart beating faster and see the rush of old feelings building up in his head. It was a very emotional moment when he found some of the names of those he knew and were with when they died. He was in another place while we were in front of the wall but, on the walk back, he turned to me and said, ”War is such a waste of good people…especially this one”.

I still tell this story to my PR classes at UW and, when I was honored with the Public Relations Society of America’s Lifetime Achievement Award, I was asked about my favorite project.  I have been fortunate to have a career with many favorites but none with a greater or more rewarding impact than this one.  My pride in country always swells on Veterans Day. Now, Bill Koutrouba will have a place in my heart forever because of all that he gave. Sleep well, Bill.

New treasure in the basement museum

My often-maligned basement (Jane is constantly telling me to “clean that mess up”) now yields another treasure.  I found my bottle of Wapakoneta Moon Sauce, personally presented by the late astronaut Neil Armstrong. I’ve never tasted it and only have the one bottle from a six-pack Mr. Armstrong had with him on a trip to Indiana University.

He was a humble man like my friend Sir Edmund Hillary.  Mr. Armstrong’s achievement of being the first man on the moon even surpasses Sir Edmund’s climb of Mt. Everest in notoriety. But both were extraordinary heroes.

Several years after the Apollo 11 success, Mr. Armstrong was scheduled for a lecture at my alma mater, Indiana University. I was a recent grad and into my corporate stint with Cummins Engine Company.  Because I had worked for the I.U. Foundation, sponsor of the lecture, during college, I was asked to pick up Mr. Armstrong at the airport and bring him to the campus in Bloomington. That was a real honor for me.

We had about 45 unencumbered minutes to chat and the subjects covered the waterfront. Most of all, it was clear that he was a champion of higher education and he said, in more than one way, that he felt our country’s success in the space race could be attributed to the focus of our institutions of higher learning. I certainly hope that was true.

He was carrying with him a large leather brief case. In the course of our conversation, he pulled out a bottle of Wapakoneta Moon Sauce. It was a novelty cream soda made by the Pepsi Bottler in his hometown of Wapakoneta, Ohio, southwest of Toledo.  He said it gave him a great laugh and he enjoyed taking the edge off austere occasions by presenting bottles of it to dignitaries.  He planned to present a bottle to Herman B. Wells, the Chancellor of IU at the time.

Most importantly, he asked me if I wanted a bottle and, of course, I declined…NOT.  How cool was that.  The bottle has been on bookshelves in my offices and at home in my basement archive ever since.

Last weekend, we lost another true hero. It’s sad to see their numbers dwindling.  The definition of “hero” seems to be changing today. I’m not sure when the next one will come along but, until then, I will cherish my bottle of Wapakoneta Moon Sauce and the inspiration behind it.  You’ll never see my bottle on eBay.

Olympic Left-overs

With the news of Lance Armstrong's lifetime ban from the sport of cycling, the Olympics seems like months ago. I'm still unpacking though. And my merchandise collection is being assembled as you can see from the photo above. AND...they light up in the dark.

When I told that to my British friend, his response was "Why am I not surprised!?! A truly sophisticated piece of memorabilia. A thing of great beauty to amaze (or do I mean amuse) Seattle's social elite."  Those Brits have such a way with words...and from a Cambridge grad at that.

During the Games, I talked to people in and around the event constantly.  I watched the BBC coverage, which was everywhere, and read every newspaper I could find...and there is no shortage of ink in London.  I kept a journal and notes on a pad in my pocket. It was from those scratchings that I wrote the blogs that many of you have read.

To put the subject to bed, I thought I would share a few of my notes that didn't make it into the "official" reports. Most are amusing and some just, shall I say, "British".

So here goes...

First of all, the Olympic Park was humungous.  It covered 500 acres. The bullet train they put in would get you there in 7 minutes from Central London, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. On my first trip to the International Broadcast Centre (IBC), I found that it was on the opposite end of the park from the main tube station.  It took me 45 minutes to walk there to see my friends at the Today Show.  There was a better way to get there and I guarantee that Al Roker and Matt Lauer didn't walk that far.

The IBC would have made Boeing proud. It was built to accommodate over 20,000 journalists from around the world.  It could hold five 747's wing to wing...making Everett a bit envious, I'm sure.

The main stadium held 80,000 for the Opening and Closing Ceremonies.  There were only 25,000 permanent seats. A bone of local contention was the use of the stadium after the Games. The initial plan was for the West Ham United Football (Soccer) Club, the preferred bidder with the London Organizing Committee, to take it over. By the end of last year, the deal had fallen through and the stadium's long-term future is still unresolved. (The Bird's Nest in Beijing still doesn't have a bird living there.)

I mentioned that the big crises we were planning for happily did not occur, but there were plenty of very small fires to deal with:

The father of a French soccer player was threatened with expulsion from the stadium during a match with the USA because he waved a Brittany flag. Only national flags are permitted to be displayed during the Olympics.

A Korean couple was asked to leave the venue during a basketball game between the USA and Tunisia because their tickets were for a soccer match between Egypt and Belarus.  They had the wrong tickets for the wrong event between the wrong teams at the wrong venue on the wrong day. That's just wrong.

Mayor Johnson gave us some inspired moments like when he was invited to start a Mexican Wave at the beach volleyball event but it failed when everyone raised their arms at the same time. Really? It's not that hard.

French national newspaper Le Monde had a headline that read, "You can never say it enough times.  The Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, is a weird guy."

Only "official" food sponsors were allowed in the Park and at the IBC.  Adventurous journos were able to find the preferred snack, Pringles, under the counter at the media centre's bar.  That's journalistic resourcefulness.

British cricket commentator, Jonathon Agnew, had his umbrella seized by the Olympic "brand police" at the archery competition. He tweeted "Brolly confiscated because it has a golf name on it." They were judicious about enforcement.

Speaking of brands, the London Olympic logo was designed by Wolff Olins, a brand consultancy based in London.  Cost...$600,000...just a little red, white and blue. Wow!

And finally on a very personal note, I am sorry to say that the song Chariot's of Fire will now forever remind me of Mr. Bean.

That's enough for now. It's been fun. ..onward and upward.

Nicolette

Blame my iPod. It kicked into a set of Nicolette Larson songs that just brightened my day.  "Give a little. Care a lot. Try to use the love you've got."  That was first up.  She had such a lovely voice. She was the singer part of the singer-songwriter and she loved other people's music, just like me.

I first met her in Kauai when she was living at the Crosby, Stills, Nash, Young and Jackson Browne compound.  We stood in the back of a bookstore and couldn't stop talking about music. I love her story about riding around Neil Young's Montana ranch with him in his jeep.  That's how he wound down, she said.

On one of their drives, he reached into the glove compartment and gave her a hand-written piece of paper.  He said, "You should record this.  It just sounds like you." It was the lyrics to a song he had written called "Lotta Love". She was blown away that he just gave it to her. She made the record and became a star when it hit the top of the charts.

I've got all of her catalogue but I don't listen to it as much as I should.  It is purely feel-good music. Her versions of Jesse Winchester's "Rhumba Man" and Lowell George's "Two Trains" make you want to dance. I may not be hopeless, but I am a romantic.

Nicolette was from Helena and had a great connection with the Northwest.  She was definitely "one of us".  She died in LA in 1997 from cerebral edema.  It was a sad day in the music business. But we've still got her songs.

Geebies take over...

It’s always been called Team GB in the past, according to our friends.  But this time, with the Games in London, Team GB was everywhere.  And its numbers grew as the Games went on. Quickly we turned Team GB into the “Geebies” and we watched them everywhere we went.

Geebie merchandise was plentiful and you could buy a Union Jack flag, the unofficial Geebie cape, on any street corner for a couple of pounds.  The Geebies were frenetic and I don’t know how many times I heard that they only won one medal in Atlanta.  Now was their time.

It's clear that the big winners at the Olympics were London and the Geebies. With them relishing the moment and having so much fun, how could the rest of us avoid having a wonderful time.  It was exhilarating and enchanting.

Pomp and circumstance went out the window with the opening ceremonies.  If nothing else, having 70 sheep on the floor was a first. And I would be surprised if just a few Americans knew that there were 4 British Isles and could name them (England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland).  The Geebies were bringing their world to us on a silver, er, should I say, golden platter.

You know the results now and the Geebies made an amazing 3^rd place finish with 65 medals, including 29 Golds. In the midst of a long economic depression (I’ll call it that, because it feels like it), here was a brief shining moment. And appropriately, it came from the land of Camelot.

All this euphoria overcomes the worries, quibbles, criticisms and problems that surfaced during the weeks leading up to the opening, including a threatened strike by border control staff which was called off at the last minute.

Recorded warnings from Mayor Johnson start playing on the underground, urging people to stay away. Increases in traffic congestion are predicted and then the private security staff fiasco forces the officials to bring in the military. By the time the Games opened, there were nearly twice as many servicemen and women on Olympic duty as there are in Afghanistan.

So how could we quell all this angst and start the Games on a high note?  Two words. Mitt Romney. “It’s hard to know just how well it will turn out,” he tells an interviewer. And then, he questions the likelihood that the people of the UK will “come together and celebrate the Olympic moment.”

Viola! British pride swells. Mayor Johnson speaks to an audience of 60,000 at a pre-Olympic concert in Hyde Park and says, “There’s a guy called Mitt Romney who wants to know whether we’re ready. Are we ready?” To thunderous applause and rapturous cries of “Yes, we are!” the Mayor’s popularity shoots up like a rocket and, in spite of any concerns, it’s Game On.

The meetings I had were a breeze.  The crises we were prepared to control did not happen.  The Geebies made it a walk in a very lovely park and Jane and I had some fun.  We spent time with good friends, had a wonderful meal in the shadow of the Tower Bridge and watched some sports that we don’t normally see, most of which the Geebies won.

Rebecca was sitting across from me on the tube with her credential on.  It read “OCC Performer”. After a couple of bad guesses, I found out that OCC stood for Olympic Closing Ceremonies.  Rebecca was coming from Reading (pron. Redding) for a rehearsal.  She was one of the dancers in yellow, which is sort of like me telling you to watch for us on the telly. I’ll have the blue shirt on. But we studied every shot looking for her.

She had been making the trip in for weeks to a warehouse near the Park to practice.  She was excited and somewhat humbled by being selected. Between the opening and closing ceremonies, 15,000 performers had been chosen to participate. “I’m only 22,” she said. “How am I ever going to top this.” Rebecca is another of the reasons that this experience warmed my heart.

The Closing Ceremonies cost $30 million and, like all the other performers, Rebecca was paid 1 pound as a token. Tickets ranged from 20 pounds to 1500 pounds. Overall, 9.8 million people (mostly Geebies) visited venues across the UK. 600,000 pieces of luggage were handled at Heathrow Airport. The most requested service by the athletes (men and women) in the Village was nail painting. And Usain Bolt has given us all one new move to finally replace John Travolta’s Saturday Night Fever pose.

London 2012 was a glorious event, start to finish. I’m proud to have had a very small role. My 10^th Olympiad is one to remember...with a pretty nice photo for the Christmas card, as well. I try not to look too far into the future and there’s more to Rio than meets the eye, based on our previous experience there with sailing races. But completely coincidentally, I have a good friend from the sailing days who lives in Sochi, so who knows. 2014 could be next? It’s been a blast sharing our experience with those of you who have chosen to follow along.  Most of you know me well enough to rest assured whatever comes next will be fun, exciting and completely unexpected. GO GEEBIES!

Everywhere athletes...

Starbucks was just there. I don’t know why we chose it as a refuge. I don’t even drink coffee. It must have been the soft chairs and air-conditioning, although I am beginning to like iced green tea.

I was early for a meeting and it felt good to take a breath and organize. A gaggle of Canadians came in and sat down next to us. I know they were Canadians because every item of clothing they were wearing from head to toe said CANADA and had a maple leaf on it. “Canada, right?”  I said. “How’d you guess?” was the reply.  The whole family had come from Vancouver Island to watch son/brother Geoff compete in cross-country mountain biking . The Canucks were out of it now and they were heading home a bit early.

Not enough could be said about the welcome treatment they received from the London Organizing committee’s hosts. The Athlete’s Village was comfortable.  The food was good and transportation to and from venues and events went smoothly.  There were 30 miles of "Olympics Only" Lanes put on the roads and, by the end, 2500 civilian motorists had paid about 300,000 Pounds Sterling in fines for driving in them. Otherwise, they were good.

Athletes from 204 nations competed in London.  There were also a handful competing under the flag of the International Olympic Committee because the UN only recognizes 192 nations.  Of the 10,500 athletes competing in the main Olympics, 4,688 were women and 5,802 were men. They used 900,000 different items of sports equipment from hurdles and javelins to trampolines and shuttlecocks. Sports is sometimes about statistics, you know.

Not too much circulating was done by the athletes in Central London until their competitions were over.  Stratford City is a long train ride into town and, with what must be the world’s largest shopping center attached to park, they spent most of their time there. But the athletes were everywhere you looked. On the streets, at the venues, on the tube and buses and in the restaurants.

The tube is was a great place to connect.  No different than the subways in New York, under normal circumstances people keep to themselves. But with badges, sashes, jackets, uniforms and hats on everyone, it became one huge reception with everyone talking and sharing.

It was there that I met Sarah, an archer from the midlands, and Leslie, a canoeist from Sweden.  They had met at the Village and were spending time together in the city. Both in their 20’s, they were the perfect picture of Olympic athletes, well-mannered, mature beyond their years but giddy with enthusiasm for the Games.  Their competitions were over and neither had medaled but Leslie placed 5^th in her event. Almost in unison, they said their parents had encouraged them for most of their lives to excel at sport…any sport of their choosing. It’s no wonder that their generation has its sights set so high.

When we met Geoff’s family at Starbucks, they were scrambling to leave for home.  That is one thing I noticed that seemed a bit unusual to me.  We met lots of athletes who were leaving when their competitions were over, before the Closing Ceremonies. If you had come so far and made such a commitment, I always thought that you would stick around and do a little celebrating.  There were fewer athletes at the Closing Ceremonies than at the start. I guess maybe growing up completely focused on competitive sports comes with certain priorities. I just wanted to have fun.

The Games are still about the athletes.  All the bickering and politics aside, a great group of strong, healthy, focused young people from around the world show up every four years to compete. Some things are still right in this world.

Wrapping it up tomorrow.

A hot day in Zurich...

Zurich is a wonderful place. I love Switzerland, mostly because I’m a mountain person. We were on a European summer vacation, coming back into town from a little village high in the mountains where I love to hike and eat schnitzel. We were scheduled to return to the States the next day so we got in early enough to enjoy the city.

Lunch was great along the river and then we decided to walk downtown.  We hadn’t gone far when I noticed the newspapers hanging by clothespins from a line above the newsstand. “ELVIS IST TOT” was emblazoned across almost every headline. I was never an Elvis fanatic but I do like some of his music.  His death was the talk of the town that day, as I’m sure it was in most places.

I will always remember that day because of the news. However, what I’m struck by most is that the news cycle may have been longer because media was slower in those days but it was much less intense.  When I compare the impact of Elvis’s death to Whitney Houston’s, it’s night and day. We waited and waited to get more information about Elvis as it slowly trickled out. No huge outpouring. No tweets going every direction in seconds. No big plans to cover the funeral morning to night. The pace and timing of information is so different now. The advances are incredible.

RIP, Elvis…wherever you are.

Better to be safe...

We were watching the women’s hockey semi-final in Potter’s Field next to the Tower Bridge.  The crowd was circulating. It was hot.  There were London Police on the periphery, keeping an eye on the comings and goings. I was standing in the shade of one of the few trees around, next to two Constables who were taking it all in.

It always gets to me when a Brit says “I really like your accent.” What accent? Well, Constable Rod Barton had an accent, strong cockney I think, and he was talking to me but I couldn’t understand much at first. It was something about a hat. Finally he took off his distinctive headdress and placed it on my head. Very slowly, he said “You Americans like our hats, don’t you? I thought you might look good in mine.”

I did feel taller with the hat.  And, without it, he looked shorter. His partner grabbed my camera and shot this picture of us, with a big smile on her face. It was sort of an odd incident but it did give me the chance to chat with Constable Rod about security at the Games.

They were part of the 10,000 strong London Police force that was directing security for the Games.  Much was made of the subcontracting snafu with G4S, the world’s largest private security firm and, most of the criticism of the bureaucrasy seemed warranted. However, it was very clear that security operations were being led by the London Police and they were a buttoned-up bunch.

My little communications piece of the Games was concerned about security all along.  Most of our conference calls were about security and dealing with its effects on public perception. I should say here at the outset that there was no incident of significance throughout the Games and the joint forces who made up the first responders were professional and most effective.

The Constable and his partner were part of the street force that worked three shifts a day keeping order throughout the city. Most of their time was spent chatting with visitors, getting their pictures taken and controlling any situation that might become unruly.

I even tested one of the officers at Buckingham Palace on details of the triathalon that was about to finish nearby in Hyde Park.  He had the answers and the specifics. I asked him how he knew so much about it and he responded with “That’s my job.”  I’ll buy it.

The G4S contractors mostly worked at the venues, with a focus on the Olympic Park.  Access there was tightly controlled, using airport scanning tactics.  It worked effectively and I saw the lines moving along and the visitors being cooperative.

Most of the estimated 13,500 military troops who were called up were serving as back-up from my viewpoint.  They were visible but not active.  I’m sure there were places where the role of the military was more evident but not in the high profile locations such as the Olympic Park. And that was a smart move, in my estimation.

There were security monitoring stations and headquarters spread around the city and in all the venues.  The one that I saw was near the International Media Center and pretty scary, high-tech looking. At least one-step-beyond NCIS.  It gave me confidence.

Even the much talked-about "roof-top rockets" ended up only being one launcher on a single residential block. Other military hardware available for anti-terrorist purposes did included Eurofighter jets and surface-to-air missiles, which frankly, I was glad to know about.

Far and away, the only crises we encountered were business related.  Empty seats in the venues, merchandise being pirated, counterfeit money being circulated and athletes not getting their way…only occasionally.  It could not have gone smoother.

Constable Rod said that having a million extra people on the streets of London made it a bit harder to keep peace at times. However, a few more “pub tumblers” were something they knew how to handle. “We're here to keep things together. Better to be safe than sorry, I think you say. You Americans are just one of the visiting countries and we’re glad you’re all here. The Olympics is a winner for Great Britain and we’re proud.” Well said, Constable.

More tomorrow…

A thoughtful objective for the London Olympics

As you can imagine, planning for the next Olympics begins as the current one is ending, if not sooner.  We had many meetings and conference calls while still in Beijing in 2008 to talk about London. Marketing , international media relations, participating countries, venues and volunteers are subjects of importance that are discussed endlessly during the strategy sessions.

For London, welcoming the world was job #1. Two key topics came up in our advance discussions. First was venues and how they could be used most effectively.  Second was volunteers or Games Makers as they were officially dubbed.  How would they be selected and then trained.

I think the decision to  include some key Central London venues, away from the Olympic Park, was crucial to the success of the Games. Granted, most of the competitions were at the Park, but using the Horse Guards Parade next to Buckingham Palace, Wembley Stadium for football (soccer), Earl’s Court, Hyde Park for the marathon and, of course, Wimbledon for tennis gave the visitors the opportunity to spread out around town, relieving the pressure on Stratford City where the Park was located. Beach Volleyball at the Horse Guards Parade became the hottest ticket of the Games.

The decision on London venues was an aid to security as well, but more importantly, it made the experience more exciting for the spectators.  Watching the Marathon runners go by Big Ben and down the Mall past Buckingham Palace was truly exhilarating…and it was free.

The various venues used many paid and contract workers (over 300,000) but the difference in the visitor experience, in my opinion, were the 70,000 Games Makers volunteers. Almost a quarter of a million people applied to help wrangle the crowds, the athletes and the media all across the city. Those who received volunteer status were rewarded with a kit that included two polo shirts, two pairs of trousers, two pairs of socks, one jacket, one pair of trainers, a baseball cap, official Games time bag, water bottle, notepad, a brolly “just in case it rains”, a free Oyster travel card to get to the Games from the train station and the thrill of being part of this spectacular event. That was their entire compensation, but, for them, it was more than enough. 

Our good friends at McDonald's were the presenting sponsor for the volunteer efforts and, as usual, they took on that role full force.  The Olympics is their kind of event. there was always a group of athletes queued up for their Big Macs.

Add to that the 8000 London Ambassadors who were guiding tourists around the Capitol and you have quite a contingency.  Always colorful Mayor Johnson commented on the Ambassadors' new uniforms by saying, "I hope you don't feel too ridiculous. We need to overcome our natural British reserve and be a little more like the Australians."  He's never a loss for words.

We met Matthew in the tube station while asking for directions to an office building.  He was from Manchester and was staying with relatives during his stint, sleeping on their couch. It was clear he had strong character and this was very important to him.  He said he would have "paid them to get this job." It was once-in-a-lifetime.

During our stay, we encountered scores of Matthew's all over the city. Interested, enthusiastic and charismatic, they  were having the time of their lives. Their happiness was infectious and it gave the city a feeling of exuberance and exhilaration that has been sorely missed during these stressful times in the past few years.

I listened in on one of the daily volunteer briefing sessions. The trainers were excellent, by the way. They even included some sensitivity training.  Here's just one of the situations the volunteers were confronted with from the workbook that each of them was presented.

Gender/Gender. Identity A spectator approaches you asking politely where the nearest toilets are. You are not sure if the spectator is male or female. What do you do?

a) Panic – you are not qualified to make this decision. Explain politely that you do not know, and sadly cannot be of assistance.

b) Just in case, tell them where the male, female and accessible toilets are.

c) Ask the spectator politely if they are male or female, so that you can direct them appropriately.

Correct Answer: b

That was one of the easier questions.  They wanted everyone to be ready.

Also among the 70,000 were about 5,000 health care professionals who provided services to athletes, spectators and visitors alike. Every expertise imaginable was present and all were used by the millions of attendees at the Games.

This event was incredibly well organized in so many ways.  It was a proud moment for me to be working with the entire organization.

Tomorrow we’re talking Security. I’m almost back on local time.