Watching the Vancouver 2010 Olympics has been great fun. I know I'm not alone when I say I enjoy the television coverage, but I really need more sleep. We say we're going to turn the TV coverage off and go to bed early, but it is just too fun to see how the Americans are doing.
Watching the Olympics this year has brought back a flood of memories, especially if I have an opportunity to talk to others who were volunteers in 2002.
So indulge me as I walk down memory lane.
My volunteer assignment was as a driver for the "Olympic Family" and I was assigned to the Little America Hotel in Salt Lake City. The Olympic Family included any member of the International Olympic Committee, the United States Olympic Committee, the Salt Lake Olympic Committee or members of any other country's Olympic Committee. The chances of getting someone from the IOC or the USOC was rare as they were assigned personal drivers and cars that they could use 24/7. I did have the chance to take a member of the USOC to the airport when he had to fly to Denver because his Father become unexpectedly ill and his wife needed their personal driver. He was so complimentary of the SL Olympics, in fact, everyone I met and talked with from outside of Utah had nothing but praise for the way the games were being handled in Salt Lake.
Most of my shifts during my 21 days of volunteering started at 5:00 or 6:00 am. I would arrive at the staging area across the street of Little America where a large parking lot held all the cars and a large tent where the volunteers gathered, waited and received assignments. We would arrive, check in and be handed a set of keys to a vehicle and a radio. I drove everything from the Chevy Tahoe to the Cadillac Escalade, a 16 passenger van or the coveted (NOT) cargo van.
Upon receiving our vehicles we had to go outside (in the dark, freezing cold) and check the oil and wiper fluid levels. We were instructed to circle our cars every time we got into them and check under them for anything suspicious (remember this was only 6 months after 9-11). Every time we left the secure parking lot with our vehicles, members of the National Guard checked our credentials and our vehicles by opening every door, the trunk and hood and looking under the cars with big mirrors. This happened at least 2 to 3 times if we had to enter the Olympic Village where the athletes stayed.
During the week before the Olympics started most of us spent our time waiting in line at the airport as committee members arrived in Utah. We then delivered them to their various hotels.
Assignments could take us to any of the Olympic venues along the Wasatch Front with passengers from all over the world. Some drivers took guests to various ski resorts, malls, restaurants, private homes or offices. Some drivers were even used one day to drive south to Fillmore or somewhere like that to help with the Olympic Torch relay.
I met and drove visitors from Canada, England, Austria, Hungary, Latvia, Mongolia, Finland, Argentina, France and some others I know I have forgotten. Most spoke great English, with one exception, the Mongolians. I traveled with three men from Mongolia up to Park City where they had tickets to a downhill competition. We couldn't communicate very much, except that the one gentlemen that spoke a LITTLE English didn't want me to leave after dropping them off for the competition. I gave him my cell phone number so he could call me as soon as they were ready to leave Park City and hopefully we would be able to find each other. We did find each other and as we were driving down the canyon back to Salt Lake he kept asking me about something. I finally figured out he was saying "fire" and eventually figured out that they wanted to see the Olympic flame so we headed to the University of Utah where we all got out and took pictures. Unfortunately I can't find those pictures right now (dang). It was great spending time with them because they looked like Mongolians, dark skin and eyes, big fur hats, right out of a Hollywood casting department!
I had a lot of visitors ask me if I was a Utah Mormon and it was fun to dispel some of their myths and have them tell me how often they see "our missionaries" out walking the streets in their home countries.
My volunteer experience is one of my most cherished memories and I would LOVE to see the Olympics return to Utah again some day.
Most of my shifts during my 21 days of volunteering started at 5:00 or 6:00 am. I would arrive at the staging area across the street of Little America where a large parking lot held all the cars and a large tent where the volunteers gathered, waited and received assignments. We would arrive, check in and be handed a set of keys to a vehicle and a radio. I drove everything from the Chevy Tahoe to the Cadillac Escalade, a 16 passenger van or the coveted (NOT) cargo van.
Upon receiving our vehicles we had to go outside (in the dark, freezing cold) and check the oil and wiper fluid levels. We were instructed to circle our cars every time we got into them and check under them for anything suspicious (remember this was only 6 months after 9-11). Every time we left the secure parking lot with our vehicles, members of the National Guard checked our credentials and our vehicles by opening every door, the trunk and hood and looking under the cars with big mirrors. This happened at least 2 to 3 times if we had to enter the Olympic Village where the athletes stayed.
During the week before the Olympics started most of us spent our time waiting in line at the airport as committee members arrived in Utah. We then delivered them to their various hotels.
Assignments could take us to any of the Olympic venues along the Wasatch Front with passengers from all over the world. Some drivers took guests to various ski resorts, malls, restaurants, private homes or offices. Some drivers were even used one day to drive south to Fillmore or somewhere like that to help with the Olympic Torch relay.
I met and drove visitors from Canada, England, Austria, Hungary, Latvia, Mongolia, Finland, Argentina, France and some others I know I have forgotten. Most spoke great English, with one exception, the Mongolians. I traveled with three men from Mongolia up to Park City where they had tickets to a downhill competition. We couldn't communicate very much, except that the one gentlemen that spoke a LITTLE English didn't want me to leave after dropping them off for the competition. I gave him my cell phone number so he could call me as soon as they were ready to leave Park City and hopefully we would be able to find each other. We did find each other and as we were driving down the canyon back to Salt Lake he kept asking me about something. I finally figured out he was saying "fire" and eventually figured out that they wanted to see the Olympic flame so we headed to the University of Utah where we all got out and took pictures. Unfortunately I can't find those pictures right now (dang). It was great spending time with them because they looked like Mongolians, dark skin and eyes, big fur hats, right out of a Hollywood casting department!
I had a lot of visitors ask me if I was a Utah Mormon and it was fun to dispel some of their myths and have them tell me how often they see "our missionaries" out walking the streets in their home countries.
My volunteer experience is one of my most cherished memories and I would LOVE to see the Olympics return to Utah again some day.
One day photographers came to our staging area
and brought one of the official Olympic torches and
we all got a chance to hold it and have our picture taken.
I think this was the same day I missed Steve Young by
about 15 minutes. I also missed him by a few minutes
in Park City on a different day.
But I did see John Glenn at the airport the day before
he helped carry the American flag into the
Opening Ceremonies.
Here I am with two other volunteer drivers.
One of them, I can't remember which,
worked as an attorney in the Utah District
Attorney's Office.
One of them, I can't remember which,
worked as an attorney in the Utah District
Attorney's Office.
Here I am with the doorman at Little America Hotel.
(Yes, yet another picture with my eyes closed.
I sure am glad for digital images you can view instantly and replace.)
I spent many hours waiting in line with my assigned
vehicle at the hotel's main door. This gentleman
was there everyday collecting pins from all over the world
as the visitors came and went.
As part of the Olympic Family the residents of the
hotel could walk out the front doors of the hotel and
have an Olympic vehicle at their disposal to take
them wherever they needed to go -- any of the Olympic venues
shopping at the mall, restaurants or just sightseeing.
We never new from one day to the next who would
come out the door and be assigned to our vehicle.
(Yes, yet another picture with my eyes closed.
I sure am glad for digital images you can view instantly and replace.)
I spent many hours waiting in line with my assigned
vehicle at the hotel's main door. This gentleman
was there everyday collecting pins from all over the world
as the visitors came and went.
As part of the Olympic Family the residents of the
hotel could walk out the front doors of the hotel and
have an Olympic vehicle at their disposal to take
them wherever they needed to go -- any of the Olympic venues
shopping at the mall, restaurants or just sightseeing.
We never new from one day to the next who would
come out the door and be assigned to our vehicle.
I think this is inside the Little America Hotel lobby.
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