The implosion of much-maligned Veterans Stadium stirred plenty of emotion -- and dust -- as South Philly turned out to bid a neighbor goodbye.
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"Ladies and gentlemen, you've just witnessed history," bellowed Veterans Stadium public-address announcer Dan Baker moments after the old arena had disappeared from South Philly's skyline.
The Vet became history shortly after 7 a.m. Sunday. All that remained were a crown of broken concrete columns and a dust cloud that ominously enveloped shiny Citizens Bank Park next door -- then suddenly dissipated.
Maybe that was the spirit of the Vet moving into its new home, or maybe it was the building's curse that, with one exception, plagued the local teams playing there. Only the future will tell.
The implosion went exactly as the experts at Demolition Dynamics had planned. Roughly 3,000 pounds of nitroglycerin-based explosives first chopped out the Vet's knees, then broke its back, causing the 90,000-ton reinforced concrete octorad not just to tumble like a ring of dominos, but also to fall inward on the old playing field.
A couple thousand spectators and a large contingent of media watched the implosion from along Packer Avenue near 10th Street. Despite the early hour -- many arrived before 4:30 a.m. -- everyone seemed thoroughly entertained.
There were Mummers; there was music; there was a guy walking around in a yellow jumpsuit with a flashing light attached to his head and fake dynamite strapped to his chest. And in the anxious minutes before the blast, a few hundred fans perched on the westbound lanes of I-76 distracted everyone's attention from Mayor John Street's speech by bolting over the concrete barrier separating the highway in an attempt to get a closer view.
This triggered a cacophony of police sirens and most spectators harmlessly climbed back to the westbound lanes -- but were not feeling dissuaded enough to try two more times.
Former Phillies slugger Greg Luzinski, who had been accustomed to hitting bombs inside the Vet, pushed the ceremonial plunger that ignited the bombs that buried the stadium. It took 62 seconds for the arena to collapse, as planned -- but it felt like 62 minutes.
"There's a lot of great guys who have walked through that door and onto that field," Luzinski said after the big boom. "To be able to push the button for the final blast is something I'll always remember."
And while the Vet collapsed, the neighborhood remained intact.
"Everybody thinks it went better than expected, thank God," said Judy Cerrone, community director for District 1 of the Sports Complex Special Services District. "That only happened because of the pressure we put on the demolition company."
Preparation in her neighborhood continued through Saturday when state Rep. Bill Keller and apprentices from Local 98 went door to door covering residents' air conditioners. Many watched the implosion with the VIPs across Packer Avenue.
On Monday, Cerrone said her neighborhood felt different with the Vet gone.
"It was very eerie last night. You are so used to seeing that right in your face. It was a strange, sad kind of feeling."
Veterans Stadium, South Philly, 1971-2004
There Used to be a Ballpark
And there used to be a ballpark
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