1
10
1
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/39779/archive/files/5741b61d9b7fd6ebe9112208508bab7d.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=MnfP%7EQ3t8NLYUYxyu6oCRLCiPp8RkczgTOOn2UejE2jXLBHqNLZi-FXa3KFQCpN6C2B1FJnq3Aula9TCItHiIGK-0LJeKd29813sr-%7E1DhTh42ZdT5IGOUnk%7Ed-RSibnlrmgKm-8trdeTXDPZlVT%7E6%7EbLxr6lxQkr1zQnxr0UE60Aiecm1w81JUuTrNvaLQb3SW4vSP2NEySFebP7HsLSS2ZasH1VW6Rvx0gLBlb1wfaw4AGVmOwH8h3usL6FcY2qAo449CcPcgh7WD01hFl-1ePofH586VYH9ENmgXhgEcLT5vbDquzLpXjlhn-gGoxF4GKtCfvYRQh8t8-0CB9Tg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
2d23ed7736bb52e3b49c00a7ecfceaa4
PDF Text
Text
TRANSCRIPT – MICHAEL VEECK
Interviewee: Michael Veeck
Interviewer: Kerry Taylor
Interview Date: November 17, 2008
Location: Capers Hall, The Citadel
Length: 19 minutes, 58 seconds
Michael Veeck: It won't be, then, for you bringing me in, I'll make sure of that.
You know, when he called me and he said that he'd like me just to discuss Disco
Demolition, I said to him in almost thirty years of being sorry for this event, I’ve never
been called about its place in history. But there’s an interesting element to it as I started
to think about it, was that overnight, it was a Thursday night and by Friday morning, and
by Monday morning, every disco station in America shut down and became something
else. They changed programming. So over the next few minutes I’m just going to tell you
some funny stories about how to ruin your career if any of you are into that. And it’s true
that my grandfather wrote for the old Chicago American newspaper when the Wrigley
family were running the Cubs. And my grandfather wrote under the byline of Bill Bailey
and every single day he devoted his column, and his life, actually, to attacking the
Wrigley family and how inept they were running the Cubs. Which if any of you are
baseball fans, or unfortunate Cubs fans, you’ll know continues until this day. One
hundred years without a World Series win, they weren’t any better back then. And one
day Mr. Wrigley called my grandfather up and he said, “If you’re gonna pound me in the
newspaper like this, sir, I’d like you to come over here and run the Chicago Cubs,”
�Michael Veeck
thinking of course, that he would back off it. And my grandfather said, “I’ll be over in ten
minutes.” And he showed up and for the next fourteen years he ran the Chicago Cubs,
with varying degrees of success. He didn't get to the, back then of course it was only
eight and eight, so he won a pennant three times and never won a World Series. He was a
terrific operator and he spawned my father, who had no appreciable talents so he went to
work for my grandfather when he was, you know, twelve years old, he worked in the box
office, and he sold pop. And he learned the business from the ground-up. He planted
actually the ivy that still adorns the walls, the most famous horticultural display. He
planted that because that was the only thing that he and Mr. Wrigley agreed on, that and
their love for baseball. So in 1947, actually ’46, my old man purchased, right after the
war, he was a Marine, lost his leg in the Pacific, and he came back over and put together
a group and he bought the Cleveland Indians. And after he was injured during the war he
had this idea that because all the Major League players were over fighting, that he could
put together, from the old Negro leagues then, a team that would be the best in Major
League Baseball. And of course, the barons of baseball blocked him. So knowing that he
bought the Indians in ’46, in ’47 he signed Larry Doby, who was the first African
American to play in the American League. And won a world championship in ’48. Now I
tell you this history because it’s oral history, it’s a family history;; it’s no different than
yours. We’re proud, hopefully, of our lineage, but my dad devoted his life to making me
miserable. He liked baseball so much that he had nine kids. Think about it (laughter).
And when the DH was introduced, my mom, she left town. Think about it! So I grew up
with a man who won a world championship in Cleveland, signed the first African
American to play in the American League, built the first exploding scoreboard. He spent
2
�Michael Veeck
his entire life having people make fun of him, having people ridicule him, and all he did
was run ball parks like a child. And he set attendance records wherever he went, because
he foolishly believed that the most important people in any ball park were the fans. So in
1959, with some help from Nelson Fox and Luis Aparicio, both Hall of Famers, he won a
pennant in Chicago. We got beaten by the Dodgers in the World Series, and he retired to
the eastern shore of Maryland to die. And he managed to beat the devil, and I got out of
school, and had no appreciable talent, just like the rest of my line. Joined a rock and roll
band on the day I got out of school, spent three years on the road. And my old man called
me up one day, and he said, "Look, I heard that single, it's really terrible." And I said,
"Thanks for the positive reinforcement, dad." And he said, "You ought to get into a
legitimate line of work." And I said, "Well, obviously, that means I'm not going to work
with you." And he said, "I'm going to buy the Chicago White Sox for the second time in
1975, in December." Actually, right about this time. And I said, "Well, how are you
going to buy the White Sox, you don't have any money." And he said, "Wouldn't you like
to see that?" And I said, "Yeah, it'd be kind of intriguing, I have to admit." My father and
I were estranged. We had no relationship. You know, he was just this guy that raised me,
he spawned me. And the fact that he had asked me to come to work with him was an
interesting twist, and, you know, my music career wasn't going anywhere, so I said, hey,
that's okay, I'll try it. So in 1976, January of 1976, we bought the White Sox for nine
million dollars, forty-eight unfortunate people were hustled into buying this club. And we
borrowed six million dollars, we raised three million dollars, another million to operate.
And we went off to have fun. We wore short pants that year, which is the only time in
modern history that a major league team has worn short pants. And for two and a half
3
�Michael Veeck
years, I learned the business, I had a lot of fun. And one day, the inevitable happened. My
old man called me into the office, and he said, "People are talking." And I said, "Yeah?
So what?" He said, "They hate you." And I said, "Well, I'm an owner's kid, of course they
hate me. I got this job because of a mistake of genetics. You know, I have no appreciable
talent." And he said to me, "July 12th, 1979, we don't have a single ticket sold." It was a
makeup game, a twi-night double-header. The Chicago White Sox were going to play the
Detroit Tigers, and we hadn't sold a single ticket. I said to him, "We haven't won a ball
game in the last ten. That would be an interesting promotion. Why don't you put a team
on the field that could play?" And he said, "I'm not the one whose job is in jeopardy." I
thought, man, it's threatening your own kid, that's tough. So I'm walking across Michigan
Avenue, and all of a sudden I hear, out of a low rider, KC and the Sunshine Band. Now,
none of you are old enough to remember that, but it's the single worst piece of music in
the history of the world. It has two chords, and all it is is a tribal chant. The guy goes,
"That's the way, uh-huh, uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh, uh--" I'm thinking to myself, man, that
is a bad piece of music. And I don't mean bad like "good" bad, I mean, bad bad. You
know, that bad. There weren't no Otis Redding or James Brown, it was not a piece of
music. But this guy was making a lot of money, and I'm walking down Michigan Avenue
and I'm thinking to myself, God, there's something that happened, there's something that
happened. And then I remembered. In 1977, my second year in major league baseball, we
decided to have a disco dance contest. And we invited all the saloons in Chicago to run
contests for a month, and then bring out their winners. And on a Sunday afternoon, we'd
put twenty stages up and have people dancing. And that was the first year that Seattle
joined the major leagues, and as I recall, we had 20,000 people to come and watch people
4
�Michael Veeck
dance before the ball game. And that was a great crowd for the White Sox versus an
expansion team. So afterwards, we went down to Miller's Pub, which is where we used to
hide. We used to say we did all of our thinking there, but we did an enormous amount of
drinking. Because we were from the “Just Say Yes" generation. I don’t know what you
guys are, I’m sure it’s still the “Just Say Yes” age, but they probably don’t call you that
now. You can say that out loud man, we’re all thinking it. So at three o’clock in the
morning there’s Jeff Schwartz, a record plugger and some radio guys, and we’re all
sitting around. And we thought, we drew 22,000 people for a dance contest. I bet if we
invited everybody who hated this music to come out, we could burn the joint down. And
at five o’clock we all went home. 1977, after the disco dance contest, sponsored by Coca
Cola, it was as saccharine as it gets. Fast forward now, I’m walking down Michigan
Avenue I hear that song and I’m thinking to myself, “Man, I remember something.” And
the next day, Jeff Schwartz, the record plugger who had been there, calls me and he says,
“Turn on Steve Dahl on WLUP. He just blew up a disco record on the air.” So I tune him
in and sure enough he uses all the sounds effects and he’s formed a group called The
Insane Coho Lips. And they’re dedicated to obliterating disco from the American scene. I
call him up when he gets off the air and I said, “You wanna do that live and in person at a
ballpark?” And he said, “I don’t know. I’m doing it at a shopping center this weekend
and I don’t know if it will draw.” I said, “Well why don’t you go to the shopping center,
it is in Indiana. You know, no one will miss it if you blow something up there.” And he
went to Indiana and he drew 3,000 people and he called me up on Tuesday and he said,
“We drew 3,000 people for a shopping center, that’s not very many.” He said, “We need
to push this thing.” I said, “Well let’s do it on July 12th, because I don’t have a single
5
�Michael Veeck
ticket sold and I’m going to be fired.” And so we agreed to do it and we started to pump.
Now Chicago has two huge stations: WLS, 50,000 watt, and WCFL “The Voice of
Labor,” also 50,000 watts. And we were on WLUP a little 5,000 watt radio station in
downtown Chicago that played nothing but classic rock and roll. And a disc jockey
named Steve Dahl who hated disco and we united. And we announced to everybody in
Chicago that on July 12th, if they brought a disco record between games of a twi-night
double-header, between the White Sox and Detroit, we’d put them in a dumpster with a
stick of dynamite and blow them up. (everyone laughs) Thank you. I want you to know
that people love things-- who knows better than you all? People love things that blow up!
You can say all you want about how civilized we are, you blow something up and you
can attract a crowd. It’s just the way it is. So Steve Dahl every morning on the radio starts
talking about how, “Come out to Comiskey Park, between games, bring your disco
record, we’re gonna blow them up.” Oh, for those of you who are skeptics, I bought
proof. So here's how it went down. For the next ten days, we just pounded the airwaves,
pounded the airwaves. My old man, who absolutely, there was no kind of music that he
liked except Dixieland, if it wasn't Satchmo, Louis Armstrong, he didn't get it. So he's
like, "What is this you're running, you're going to blow up these records?" I said, "Don't
worry about it. We're going to draw a lot of people, it's going to be great." Nobody paid
any attention to it. July 12th is a Thursday night. July 12th arrives, a twi-night doubleheader, because it was rescheduled, starts at five o'clock. At three o'clock, I looked out
onto 35th and Shields, and there were 35,000 people lined up at three o'clock in the
afternoon. Remember what I said about blowing stuff up? When we opened the gates at
four o'clock, there were now 45,000 people in line. And by the first pitch at 5:07, the ball
6
�Michael Veeck
park was full. There were 60,000 people, some of them still clutching their albums that
we hadn't collected. But most of them had thrown them in, they got in for ninety-eight
cents. And they were all stoned. (everyone laughs) You're allowed to laugh, it's funny.
60,000 people are here like this. (everyone laughs) "Wow. What happens here? Which
way do you face? Hey, turn around this way." We sold more concession items that night.
(everyone laughs) Not that you all would know.
Male Voice: They had the munchies.
MV: But, munchies? People were eating boxes before we put the popcorn in it.
They were digging it. It's like, you can't believe that civilized man behaves like this.
There's a haze over the top of the ballpark. It's very sweet-smelling. The players are, like,
looking up. They've never played on the Southside of Chicago. This was 40,000 people
more than the White Sox were averaging. Now, that's fine. It's historic. But who cares?
Because the real show was outside the ball park. So, is anybody here, aside from us, who
knows Chicago at all? Is from Chicago? Well, the old Comiskey Park sat here. And
O'Hare Airport was twenty-three miles away. The astounding part of Disco Demolition is
that after we let those 60,000 people in, there were still 40,000 people outside trying to
get in. That means there were 100,000 on July 12th, 1979, a Thursday night, outside
Comiskey Park. Traffic was backed up for twenty-three miles. Twenty-three miles, I
didn't stutter. Jane Byrne, who was the mayor, called me, and she said, "We need to have
an emergency meeting. You have loused up the traffic grid." And I said, "Your honor,
you are the only person in the city with helicopters. I can't get to you, so you'll have to
come to me." She said, "What are you doing over there?" I said, "We're just going to
blow some stuff up." She was very uncool with that whole concept. People outside, there
7
�Michael Veeck
were eleven grappling hooks that we took away from customers. Thirty-eight knives, two
handguns, a few chains, four or five sets of brass knuckles, but nothing was as astounding
as eleven grappling hooks. In other words, people were willing to rappel in to see the
White Sox, which was not a usual occurrence. Usually, they would try to buy grappling
hooks to get out, okay? 60,000 people inside, 40,000 people outside. Traffic is gridlocked
back to O'Hare Airport, and now the show. Steve Dahl comes out in his commando jeep.
We lost the first game three to one, who cares? I just set the single night record for
attendance in Comiskey Park, I'm walking around the upper deck trying to get a contact
high going. They will never call me an owner's kid again. You know, I know a little
something about prejudice, and they would see me go by, and they'd, like, whisper. "You
know how he got a job? It was a mistake of genetics. He never earned his job." And I'm
thinking to myself, man, I'm going to show these folks. 13,000 Donna Summer records.
KC and the Sunshine Band, the Bee Gees were huge losers that night. 13,000 record
albums in a dumpster, and we put in a stick of dynamite and we lit that sucker. And we
blew it 250 feet in the air. It was the most beautiful explosion that you have ever seen.
Now, I wouldn't believe an old guy either. I was never going to be this old. So I'm going
to just kind of send around, you look like a very reputable-- there's the actual moment of
the explosion, and there's what 13,000 records look like. And this is kind of fun. So at the
moment, I'm watching this explosion happen, and I'm looking in the air at these albums
coming down. I'm standing right at second base, and I'm thinking, "Jeez. I can see it now.
The cover of Rolling Stone. Time and Newsweek were covering it. I'm there, baby, I'm
there." And then all of a sudden, I see these ten guys jump from the center field
bleachers, which was a drop of thirty-five feet. Tuck and roll, forget that. They were so
8
�Michael Veeck
gassed, they floated down. (everyone laughs) Four women slid down the foul pole, and in
three and a half minutes, there were 10,000 people on the field. Now, I resent being
introduced as the man who started a riot. I have been in riots. (everyone laughs) Riots are
different. See, riots, people are, you know, screaming and yelling and angry. This, they
were just kind of dancing. They were, like, happy. They were, like, ruining my life. After
five minutes, there were 20,000 people on the field. Now, in Chicago, there's a point of
law, and that is that you have one hour from the moment the police have been called to
quell your own disturbance if you own the property. And we owned not only the White
Sox but Comiskey Park. So the police had to wait for one hour before they could make
their grand entrance. And believe me, they were thinking about making their grand
entrance. Steve Dahl jumped on his jeep, in his cammies, and shot out the side door.
END OF INTERVIEW
Matt Allbritton, April 7, 2010
DE, September 10, 2010
SW, September 15, 2010
9
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Oral Histories
Description
An account of the resource
The oral histories in this collection were produced by The Charleston Oral History Program at the Citadel. Founded in 2008, The Charleston Oral History Program at the Citadel seeks to deepen understanding of the Lowcountry’s rich history and culture through the gathering and presentation of recorded memories from area residents.<br /><h3>Search Tips</h3>
Interviews may be browsed by scrolling to the bottom of this page and selecting "View all items".<br /><br />When using the search bar, we recommend putting quotations around your search term, and selecting the Boolean search option, as illustrated here:<br /><p><img src="https://gdurl.com/aYPj" alt="aYPj" /><br /><br />To view interviews of a specific theme, please see the search tips in each series below.</p>
<h3><strong>The Citadel in War and in Peace<br /></strong></h3>
With generous support from the <a href="http://www.schumanities.org/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Humanities Council of South Carolina</a>, The Charleston Oral History Program at the Citadel collected thirty interviews with Citadel alumni regarding their experiences during WWII. Journalist and historian Jack Bass conducted the interviews during the Fall of 2008.They serve as a powerful testament to the veterans' experiences and their critical contributions to the war effort.<br /><br /><em>*To search interviews in this series, use the following terms utilizing the Boolean search option:</em><br /><ul><li>"The Citadel in War and in Peace"</li>
<li>"The Citadel in War and in Peace -- World War II"</li>
<li>"The Citadel in War and in Peace -- Korean War"</li>
<li>"The Citadel in War and in Peace -- Vietnam War"</li>
<li>"The Citadel in War and in Peace -- The Second Gulf War"</li>
<li>"The Citadel in War and in Peace -- The War in Afghanistan"</li>
</ul>
<h3><strong>Working Charleston</strong></h3>
Working Charleston documents the on and off job experiences of the longshoremen and lawyers, the bartenders and carriage drivers, hospital aides and high tech workers who make Charleston among the nation's prime tourist destinations and vital centers of global trade.<br /><br /><em>*To search interviews in this series, use the following terms utilizing the Boolean search option:</em><br /><ul><li>"Working Charleston"</li>
<li>"Charleston City Workers"</li>
<li>"Lowcountry Foodways"</li>
</ul>
<h3><strong>Charleston and the Long Civil Rights Movement</strong></h3>
<span><span>These interviews explore how community activism continues to shape modern life in the South.<br /><br /><em>*To search interviews in this series, use the following terms utilizing the Boolean search option:</em><br /></span></span>
<ul><li>"Charleston and the Long Civil Rights Movement</li>
<li>"Civil rights movement--South Carolina"</li>
<li>"African Americans--Civil Rights--South Carolina--Charleston"</li>
</ul><a target="_blank" href="https://citadeldigitalarchives.omeka.net/items/show/193" rel="noreferrer noopener"></a>
<h3><strong>Las Voces del Lowcountry</strong></h3>
<span><span>This project is designed to raise the profile of the Hispanic/Latinos who call the Lowcountry home and to promote a rational and humane conversation regarding immigration, education, and employment policies.<br /><br /><em>*To search interviews in this series, use the following terms utilizing the Boolean search option:<br /></em></span></span>
<ul><li>"Las Voces del Lowcountry"</li>
<li>"Latin Americans--Southern States"</li>
<li>"Hispanic Americans--Southern States"</li>
</ul>
<h3><strong>Women in World War II</strong></h3>
<em>*To search this series, type "Women in World War II" into the search bar, using the Boolean search option.<br /></em>
<ul><li>"Women in World War II"</li>
<li>"Women--Employment History"</li>
<li>"World War, 1939-1945--Participation, female"</li>
</ul>
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Citadel, the Military College of South Carolina
Oral History
A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge.
Interviewer
The person(s) performing the interview
Kieran Walsh Taylor
Interviewee
The person(s) being interviewed
Michael Veeck
Duration
Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.)
20 minutes
Location
The location of the interview
Charleston, South Carolina
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Oral History of Michael Veeck, interviewed by Kieran Walsh Taylor, 17 November, 2008
Subject
The topic of the resource
Charleston RiverDogs
Sports--Marketing
Baseball--South Carolina--Charleston
Description
An account of the resource
Michael Veeck was born in Tucson, Arizona in 1951 and is co-owner of the Charleston Riverdogs baseball team. He is the son of Bill Veeck (1914-1986), the colorful if not always successful owner of the St. Louis Browns, the Chicago White Sox, and the World Series champion Cleveland Indians (1948). Michael Veeck inherited his family’s love of baseball, but may be best known as the originator of one of baseball’s most infamous promotions—“Disco Demolition.” What began as a light-hearted gag to blow up disco records symbolizing the death of the 1970s dance craze, ended in a riot at Chicago’s Comiskey Park and considerable damage to the stadium and playing field. In this interview excerpt, Veeck details the planning of “Disco Demolition,” and boasts of his role in hastening disco’s demise. The interview took place during a “US Since 1945” course at The Citadel.
<br />This interview is part of the COHP's “Charleston and the Long Civil Rights Movement” series. These interviews explore how community activism continues to shape modern life in the South. The digital recordings and transcripts are part of The Citadel Oral History Program Collection at The Citadel Archives & Museum.<br /><br /><h3><strong><a target="_blank" href="http://lcdl.library.cofc.edu/lcdl/catalog/lcdl:23440" rel="noreferrer noopener">Listen to the audio on the Lowcountry Digital Library.</a></strong></h3>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
The Charleston Oral History Program at the Citadel
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Charleston and the Long Civil Rights Movement
Special Research
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
The Citadel Archives & Museum
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2008-11-17
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
Materials in The Citadel Archives & Museum Digital Collections are intended for educational and research use. The user assumes all responsibility for identifying and satisfying any claimants of copyright. For more information contact The Citadel Archives & Museum, The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina, Charleston, South Carolina, 29409.
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Language
A language of the resource
English
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
https://citadeldigitalarchives.omeka.net/items/show/193
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Charleston (S.C.)