THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, August 18, 1994 TAG: 9408180661
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JIM DUCIBELLA, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 142 lines
Her name is Bonnie. She is always the first Carlisle resident to welcome the Redskins as they walk from the parking lot at Dickinson College to the dorm to begin training camp.
But Bonnie doesn't stop there. When the Redskins are practicing at Biddle Field, she is at practice. When they eat, Bonnie waits outside the dining hall, sandwich or soft drink in hand.
She always carries a pad and a pen, and I've never seen a player or coach refuse to sign. Bonnie is no trouble. For years, the lone outsiders in her world have been the Redskins. No more. Not after Wednesday. Not in Carlisle.
Wednesday's practice that closed out the training camp portion of the preseason schedule may well have been the last the Redskins will hold in Carlisle.
After 32 years, it is almost certain the Redskins won't be back. Owner Jack Kent Cooke wants to vacate homely RFK Stadium for a mighty new fortress he's willing to build.
But D.C. said no. So did Virginia. Maryland is in the process of saying yes, but only if Cooke moves training camp to an outpost called Frostburg.
Some say this migration might not occur until 1996. But administrators of Frostburg State have been in Carlisle, meeting with the Redskins, taking notes, promising they can outdo Carlisle.
They can't. For pure commitment, Carlisle is tops.
Players didn't eat at Dickinson; they dined. This summer, the food-service staff set up a wok table, with heaping bowls of fresh vegetables and diced chicken or shrimp. Someone could whip up his own meal if he didn't want one of the three entrees offered each night.
That was in addition to the ice-cream sundae bar, the gourmet desserts and the sparkling waters.
You don't find such frills at NFL camps. It destroyed Dickinson's profit margin. So did the annual installation of cable television in every room of two dorms.
Dickinson and Carlisle lost money hosting the Redskins. But they gained something of an identity and the satisfaction of helping a pro team kick off its season in style.
Carlisle itself is extraordinarily ordinary. Ice cream parlors. Taverns. Pizza and sub shops. Two good restaurants, three if you include the Boiling Springs Tavern 6 miles away.
There's one mall with, sadly, several stores gasping for business. A half-dozen movie theatres, not counting the one on High Street, which is about to make a comeback.
That was the place that each July showed the ``Smokey And The Bandit'' in which Joe Theismann had a bit part. The marquee, however, always read:
Starring Burt Reynolds
Joe Theismann
The story goes that Theismann once asked the manager to give him top billing.
A quarter-mile-long alley connects Witwer and Adams dorms to Biddle Field. It meanders across silent tree-lined streets and yards guarded by hedges of honeysuckle and boxwood.
Rookies and free agents still walk or bike to practice. Someone is always working in the alley and players chat with the neighbors, sometimes meet the kids.
``I know 30 or 40 people here,'' assistant coach Russ Grimm said. He spent 14 summers in Carlisle, 11 as one of the team's most popular players. ``They know my kids, I've seen theirs grow up. Sometimes, they call me in hunting season when they've killed a deer.
``It's a small Pennsylvania town. I'm from a small Pennsylvania town, and it's the best place to be from.''
Where the alley makes its only bend, a homeowner erected a sign - ``Caution: Golden Retriever Xing.'' I never saw the dog. Not once.
But I knew Charlie. He's the Brittany Spaniel who lives across from the phantom retriever.
Charlie never made a sound. He was quiet even when you pet him. Until you left. Then he'd whine, begging you to come back. It was a bad day if Charlie wasn't outside when I walked to practice.
A few years ago, some Redskins fans bought a house across the alley from Biddle Field. In summer, the chain-link fence that surrounds Biddle is draped in a green canvas so no one can spy on practice.
But that canvas also kept the owners of the house from watching. So, they built a deck on the second floor, complete with chairs, a table and a burgundy-and-gold umbrella.
They sat each afternoon with their cocktails and snacks and their perfect view of the inner sanctum.
Joe Gibbs once asked if they could be prevented from watching practice - especially after somebody told him about the Cowboys bumper sticker on a car out front. People laughed, but Gibbs did forbid TV crews from filming practice from that deck.
Gibbs closed practice to the public after two weeks. Unfazed, dozens of people would lie on their stomachs, poke fingers through the fence and pull open the canvas wide enough to glimpse an Art Monk or John Riggins.
The first person at Biddle every day is ``Dutch.'' I don't know his last name, just that he was sort of a groundskeeper/equipment manager/Dickinson College Institution.
Dutch played football and his knees gave out years ago. He putters around Biddle in his own golf cart, a pail of chalkdust secured in back.
Dutch recalls the early days, when Carlisle threw a parade every summer to welcome the Redskins back. All they asked was that the team take part. You can march through Carlisle quicker than a bald man can comb his hair, but one day, the Redskins said they didn't have time for such gaiety. Imagine.
There was a time when the Redskins - players and coaches - knew every barkeep in town. In fact, some assistant coaches missed more curfews than the players.
That changed when sober Otto Graham took over. Players were banned from the town. Graham apparently was able to enforce that rule, the only aspect of coaching at which he was superior to George Allen.
Billy Kilmer, Sonny Jurgensen, Diron Talbert and Ron McDole rekindled Carlisle night life, often consuming large quantities of wine in one room of a restaurant while Allen staffers sat unaware in a separate room a few feet away.
Grimm and the Hogs continued that tradition, though Gibbs never minded a little alcohol consumption as long as curfew wasn't violated. He usually got his way on that.
Norv Turner and Carlisle would have been a nice fit. He even invited reporters out for beers one night - his treat - at a tavern uncovered by former Hog Mark May.
But the Redskins ceased being more than a public-relations tool for Carlisle years ago. Better roads eliminated much of the overnight business the team once fostered.
You can drive from D.C. to Carlisle in two hours. Busloads of fans would arrive in the morning, watch practice, eat lunch, then depart following the afternoon session.
For that reason, some people don't mind the Redskins leaving. Some others, like the food staff and the alley residents, are devastated, disbelieving.
You can be sure that Bonnie was there Wednesday to say goodbye, as always. This was supposed to be a secret, but the Redskins once collected some money and sent Bonnie on the vacation she could never afford.
They ought to do it next summer. Pay her way to Frostburg. She is, after all, a wonderful reminder of Carlisle. Of honeysuckle in the alley, and dogs that don't bark until you've walked past. Of the love a small Pennsylvania town gladly heaped on them for three decades. ILLUSTRATION: Color staff photo by BILL ABOURJILIE
If the Redskins do, in fact, leave for a new training camp home,
this store in Carlisle, Pa., will most likely have to alter its
selling approach.
Color map
Area shown: Carlise, Pa.
by CNB