THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, July 31, 1996 TAG: 9607310616
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SERIES: Olympics '96
SOURCE: Bob Molinaro
From Atlanta
LENGTH: 75 lines
Centennial Park is open again. It's open to people like Ed and Shelly Aristi.
The young couple was on foot early Tuesday afternoon, mom and dad behind a baby stroller. Ed pushed the two-seater, Shelly walked the infant.
The Aristis of Naples, Fla., are on vacation. Ed, Shelly and the three kids will be in North Carolina in a couple of days for a family reunion.
``We had to stop for the Olympics,'' Ed said. ``It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing.''
Two people lay dead in the park before the Aristis left Florida. Did they consider taking the bypass around Atlanta?
``You just can't let a bomb change the way you live,'' Ed said.
Shelly chimed in, ``I feel like they've beefed up security enough.''
The couple was sufficiently satisfied with the safety in Atlanta that they pushed their three children through a sea of humanity.
Under a broiling sun, men, women and children crowded into the park, which now, more than ever, some see as a symbol of the resilient Olympic spirit.
In Atlanta, calls have gone out for people to make a statement to the lunatic bomber.
Don't give over the park to a maniac, they've been told. Don't give over your lives.
Is that why the Aristis are here? To show they won't be intimidated?
``I don't know,'' said Ed, looking out from under his baseball cap. ``It's kind of the thing to do.''
Did he think he and his family were at risk in the park?
He shook his head.
``There's a better chance you would win the lottery than get caught in a bomb blast,'' he said.
Then Ed, Shelly and the kids were off, barely moving through the throngs, joining thousands of others who had their own reasons for reclaiming the park.
At 8 a.m. Tuesday, about 3,000 people waited for the gates to open. Little by little, their numbers swelled. At 10 o'clock, a resounding memorial service was held. By noon, the park was packed.
To enter, people filed past tables so that armed police could search their bags. Centennial Park was built as a public facility, open to all, admission free. Now you cannot visit unless you are willing to undergo a search of your personal belongings.
This is not the message Atlanta wants to send out.
``Security still wasn't very good,'' said Diane Wittenstein of Chicago. ``I walked right by.''
Said her husband, Ed, ``It's OK. Nobody's worried. Look around. Nobody's thinking about what happened the other day.''
That's not entirely true.
At the grassy spot where the bomb went off, people snapped pictures and rolled video cameras.
The explosion ripped apart a metal apron at the base of a sound-light tower. It created a small crater in the ground.
The tower is fixed. The crater repaired. But the engraved bricks nearby bear the dried blood of the victims.
Tuesday, visitors walked over the blood stains to look at an American flag spread out on the lawn. People dropped roses at the scene. Some stuck small flags into the ground.
Amid the flowers, a sign read: ``Pray For Peace.''
Diana and Barry Burson of Marietta, Ga., had tickets to table tennis. On their way out, they stopped by the makeshift memorial.
``I want to pay tribute to the people who were here that night,'' said Barry. ``The more people who come out the better.''
Richard Varn of Charleston, S.C., was just as determined to visit.
``It's more somber over here where it all happened,'' he said, ``but it's important that I came by.''
Why is that? Why is it so important that he and thousands like him turn out to reclaim the park?
``I wanted to do my part,'' Varn said. ``I believe everybody here is telling that idiot that you're not going to push us around.'' by CNB