By Tracy Liegler Albrecht
There are many family memories that are based out of venue experiences that come to mind about my dad, so here goes,
When my mom told me about her romance period with my dad it of course involved where they spent their honeymoon. Their plans got hijacked to turn south and assist with the Waterloo Whitehawk’s spring training in Florida. It was an introduction and initiation to my dad’s world of sports facilities and operations, and they had a blast driving south from Waterloo, Iowa, in January to the warmth of Florida to work among the buzz of minor league baseball.
As we grew up in Chicago, Houston, and then Anaheim, we always stopped at venues whether it was our destination or if we were passing by. Dad had a recording system using 3″ x 5″ cards. We were each given one and tasked to observe and record details of the experience. Whether it was service of parking attendants and ticket takers, ushers and food sales, comfort or seating, view satisfaction and cleanliness of the buildings and grounds, dad wanted to know. His special request was attention at the restrooms for cleanliness. This was so ordinary that we knew to grab a 3″ x 5″ card when departing to a Stones or Who concert.
We often went to IAAM conventions as the destination point of a summer vacation. New Orleans, Vancouver, 
and San Diego come to mind. Usually traveling by car, one year we rented an Explorer 26′ motor home to get there. That was so fun I don’t even remember the city we were driving to. Dad drove it down Lombard Lane in San Francisco so it may have been Vancouver. In case you are unaware, it is considered the curviest street in the US and not a good vacation experience, to put it simply. We made it through with a few less geraniums on the garden block walls than when we started. Once at the conference it was pure fun and interaction. Lots for kids to do, mainly a pool and entertainment in the evenings. I enjoyed seeing my mom and dad interact with people they loved to see after a year’s time.
Many memories of our family outings were at the Anaheim Convention Center, and all were engaging and memorable for both us kids and my parents. The Recreational Vehicle show always involved us getting separated as we explored large and small vehicle interiors, and the last part of the night was finding each other. It also involved watching audience volunteers, including my brother Scott wrestling Victor, the Wrestling Bear (an unforgettable memory!), and handler Tuffy Truesdale at the mic. The House and Garden Show was loaded with colorful flowers and always left my mom wanting to improve the yard, my siblings and I wanting a jacuzzi. Of course, a most appreciated connection with dad was the show-biz tie to rock and roll.
My first memory of a concert was the Doors with Jefferson Airplane as the starting band. I attended with my sister Teri when I was in second grade and old enough to remember Jim Morrison drinking whiskey between songs and walking with a bit more, well, floppiness than normal, and performing as a singer and pianist despite how “relaxed” he was. My brother, sister, and I put our money together and bought “The Doors”, their debut album, and I continued to witness their short-lived career with high idealism that second graders have. The rock and roll connection was a major source of excitement and privilege in my life. It began at the dinner table when dad would throw out names to get our reactions and discuss if these bands were worthy of bookings. Always a fun exchange, once I recall dad asking about “Pink Joe” when he intended to refer to Pink Floyd! Naturally, we hailed their booking. At concerts we sat independently with a friend or two and may or may not see dad. If we did it was in the halls or from lines at the snack bar, him walking and observing the event happenings firsthand.
I’ve been told that my family functioned best at Angel games. It was meant as kind of a joke, as at home there was the usual generation gap and us kids often longed to be with our friends when not at the dinner table or sleeping. I think the statement is true. At Angel games we all loved being there and loved being together. My mom kept scoring and play details in the program, my brother intently watched and spoke of players’ strengths, my sister the academic often brought her homework and played “find the fan in 10 questions or less” with me, and I simply adored being there and being together. Together, without dad at our side and that was the normal. I would shell my peanuts and have a small pile ready for him. We knew he was perusing the facility and always showed up sometime during the game, and with an interesting story of inside information of something going on in the background.
As an adult I have been privileged to attend social events at IAVM conferences with my mom and dad while occurring near my home just outside of Palm Springs. The productive energy of this group of talented people that touched my life as a child prevails today. I know this network of venue managers touched my dad’s life on a level of much greater magnitude as he noted “Friendly” on many of his 3″ x 5″ cards.
Photo Notes: Tracy and Tom enjoyed one last baseball game in early February in Palm Springs. Tom along with Tracy and his son, Scott, last September.
