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It's been 20 years since I 'Shared the Flame?'
Where have the years gone?
I guess it must have been two decades because I don't remember a lot about that day.
It was Friday, Feb. 12, 1988 -- the day before the opening ceremonies -- when I ran my 1-km leg of what was then the longest torch relay in Olympic history (although the 35,000 km 2010 relay will more than double the '88 run).
There were eight of us from my hometown of Sundre, including the three Bouz sisters, chosen from a Petro-Canada lottery.
My mom stuffed the ballot box with as many entries as she could find.
On the big day, we were handed new red and white torch bearer jogging suits, given a short tutorial on what to do, and what not to do -- Don't let the flame go out!
The flame was also burning in the back of the van we were transported in, just in case. But no one wanted to be the idiot who extinguished the Olympic flame.
Most of the Sundre runners -- six of us -- ran our legs just outside of Bowden.
Our group was asked to pick a team name and 'Jailbirds' was chosen.
Apparently, and I can't take the credit (blame?), we penned a poem to run in our local paper, the Sundre Round-Up:
We're the Jailbirds on the run, Running the Torch off into the sun,
We've passed the penitentiary on the way
Carrying the Torch toward Ceremony Day.
Hurray!!
Catchy, right? OK, that little verse didn't win any awards.
But that Friday was a big day in our town.
Most of the morning classes were cancelled so the students could share in the experience. Nearly the entire school lined the shoulders along Hwy. 2.
Family and friends travelled from all over the province for a chance to touch the torch.
"I'm so excited," my mom told the Round-Up. "I've had three hours sleep the last few days. All of my family are coming today. Scott's grandmother, his uncle, aunt and cousins."
And there was my little brother, Justin, who was about seven. There he was on the side of the road, ready to 'help.'
After a short pause to let my family members touch the torch, Justin grabbed hold of the bottom and off we went. The little guy kept pulling the torch down, but at least it didn't fall to the frozen pavement.
That was a cold day, and a proud one to be a Canadian.
But the next day was equally patriotic, and even colder.
Our junior hockey team sold hot chocolate at the opening ceremonies when speedskater Cathy Priestner and skier Ken Read brought the torch into McMahon Stadium.
When Robyn Perry, a local seventh-grader, lit the cauldron, we welcomed the blast of heat at the far end of the stadium.