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Monday, September 28, 1998 By Peter Leo
Is nothing sacred?
As we speak, a Pittsburgh landmark is being desecrated for the sake of the almighty dollar. What bothers me is that the city itself has had a hand in this.
I refer, of course, to the Tomb of the Unknown Bowler, the solemn centerpiece of PPG Plaza. Pittsburghers who cherish the things that make us unique are well aware of what's at stake here. Let me fill in newcomers.
Back in the mid-'80s, PPG took over a third of Downtown for its headquarters and encased it in glass. These were the go-go Reagan years, and the corporation was displaying its expansionist side. In laying out PPG Plaza, PPG seemed intent on avoiding the pungent ambiance of nearby Market Square, home to various forms of wildlife, primarily pigeons and people, many of them sober. As a result, the plaza had all the urban charm of a prison yard.
But it turns out PPG was up to more than simply keeping life from breaking out in a public space. In the middle of PPG Plaza was a stately monument supported by four large black balls.
There was never any fanfare or announcement identifying it as the Tomb of the Unknown Bowler. And, to be honest, the memorial is by no means perfect. While the bowling balls look true to life, the sculptor could have done a better job depicting a bowling pin. What we have is pointy. It looks too much like an obelisk.
But the intent was unmistakable. I felt PPG deserved recognition for this understated humanitarian gesture. Gradually, the Tomb of the Unknown Bowler came to be appreciated as a quiet, dignified presence in Pittsburgh life, immortalized in a WQED documentary on Downtown buildings, highlighted in books on Pittsburgh, established as a stop on the amphibian Just Ducky Tours.
Mostly, it was a source of comfort and strength to bereaved bowling families the world over.
Then last week, as I was wandering the newsroom being the best writing coach I could be, several reporters approached me with a sense of urgency uncharacteristic of our writers. Sacrilege was afoot at the tomb, I was informed. A big gray statue of a man, wearing not a bowling shirt but a suit, had been erected nearby. More ominous, a metal logo-type contraption sat atop the obelisk bearing the initials "S.I."
My imagination ran wild: Had PPG been too hasty in declaring the bowler unknown? Had I missed the story about DNA tests confirming the identity of a heroic but dead kegler - Stanley Iggelson or Stone Ingram or Sidney Ignatieff? Or did "S.I." stand for something else? In this commercial age, had PPG sold naming rights to Sports Illustrated, as in the Sports Illustrated Tomb of the Unknown Bowler?
It turned out reality was far worse.
The Tomb of the Unknown Bowler had been reduced to a movie prop. Over the weekend, helicopters buzzed around the tomb in the name of some Disney action fluff called "Inspector Gadget." More atrocities to come as filming continues in the weeks ahead.
Don't get me wrong. I want Pittsburgh to succeed in movie-making. And I am intrigued by the notion that people all over America will see the Tomb of the Unknown Bowler. But at what price? Lots of cities have a Hard Rock Cafe, Planet Hollywood, cozy new baseball stadium, Plan B. Name one other that has a Tomb of Unknown Bowler.
Can we not find a dignified way to expand the tomb's tourist appeal? Isn't it time an eternal flame was installed at the Tomb of the Unknown Bowler?
Would this not provide the proper atmosphere for people to honor their bowling dead by leaving old bowling shoes, scoresheets, six-packs in their memory?
And what about this idea for creating tourist interest and injecting life into the plaza while not compromising the solemnity of the tomb? I suggest PPG fill the plaza with weather-proof bowling alleys as a way of celebrating bowling and saying, clearly and unmistakably, that the unknown bowler has not died in vain.
Peter Leo is the Post-Gazette's writing coach. His column appears on the last Monday of each month. You can reach him at 412-263-1561 or: pleo@post-gazette.com
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