place was packed. They see fifteen yellow jackets leave the field and this was one time they thought as one: ‘That idiot Veeck moved security out, let’s go on the field.’ It was perfectly logical. It was my mistake.
“The next day the commissioner’s office, the Bowie of Kuhn sends out a memo about ‘no negative promotions’ because it was anti-disco.”
It took Veeck a decade to move in a positive direction.
In November 1989, he joined The Goldklang Group (including Marv Goldklang and actor Bill Murray) and in 1990 became team president of the Miami Miracle, helping relocate the team to Fort Myers, Florida, in 1992. Today the Goldkang Group owns and operates the minor league Charleston RiverDogs (Veeck is president, although he does not have ownership), the St. Paul Saints, and the collegiate baseball team Pittsfield Suns. Veeck also has an interest in the Normal, Illinois CornBelters and the River City Rascals, outside of St. Louis and separate from the Goldklang group.
In 2005, Veeck wrote a book, Fun is Good: How to Create Joy and Passion in Your Workplace & Career. Wilmette, Illinois born Bill Murray contributed the blurb, “Fun should be the driving force behind most any decision.”
Veeck arrived in Charleston in 1997, and staged “Bill Murray Night,” “Drag Queen Night,” and “Nobody Night,” which insisted no fans were allowed to enter the padlocked ballpark, at Joseph P. Riley, Jr. Park. And now his son, Mike “Night Train” Veeck, named after the late Detroit Lions linebacker Dick “Night Train” Lane, is a White Sox executive in charge of fan engagement.
Veeck used to receive roughly twenty-five requests a year to stage Disco Demolition II. He consistently declined, but on July 19, 2014, after a RiverDogs game at Joseph P. Riley, Jr. Park, he blew up Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus records on the field. Grainy footage of the original Disco Demolition was shown on the center field scoreboard. In a heartfelt speech after the game, Veeck thanked the sold out crowd of more than 6,000 fans for giving him a new start in life.
During the summer of 2015, Veeck reflected, “Disco Demolition made me great at what I did the rest of my life. Until then I really believed that you can control something. That taught me the greatest lesson. It made me relax and made me take chances. Control anything? I don’t think so.
“In the late 1980s they had a twenty-five-year retrospective on rock ‘n’ roll. They used Disco Demolition to end the first half of this look back. I’m laying on a couch at a place I’m renting. I had my son Wednesday night and Saturday. Never missed a day. I had a sodie pop with my landlord. She was rough. Finally I looked around and said, ‘Disco Demolition was a cultural event.’”
One sunny day in early May 2015, Omar Vizquel, coach of the Detroit Tigers and former White Sox shortstop, hailed a cab with his wife from their downtown hotel and headed to the Northwest Side to visit Paul Natkin. Vizquel wanted to see Natkin’s photographs of Disco Demolition.
Vizquel played in the major leagues for twenty-four years but had seen nothing like this. “I’m interested in this from a historical point of view,” Vizquel said, flipping through more than fifty black and white Disco Demolition photographs. “I’ve never heard of anything like this at a baseball game. I never heard of such a commotion where you bring your LP, throw it in a box and blow it up. Obviously the whole thing went crazy.
“I was twelve years old in 1979. I lived in Venezuela, but I didn’t know about [Disco Demolition] until [2014] when I saw the ESPN special. I saw Paul [in the Commando Jeep], holding on and snapping pictures. I thought, ‘How cool would it be if I can get ahold of this guy and he can show me some of the stuff he shot that day? He was right in the middle of the action. So I called (White Sox photographer) Ron [Vesley] to help me find Paul.”
Omar Vizquel
Vizquel played more games as shortstop than anyone in baseball history. He is an eclectic athlete in the manner of Cubs manager Joe Maddon and NBA Hall of Famers Phil Jackson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Vizquel is not defined by a singular style. “I’ve always been curious,” he explained. “I ask my players to go to museums and galleries with me. They’re not interested. In August, they are doing a Dancing With Stars salsa contest for charity in Detroit. They are looking for players to participate in the event—all they have to do is dance with beautiful girls for two minutes. How many players do you think wrote their name down? One. So I had to write my name down.
“Salsa is more in my blood than disco. When I first heard disco in Venezuela I was eight years old. We saw the movies like Thank God It’s Friday with Donna Summer and even Grease with John Travolta. You could dance to the music. I like so many different things, baseball sometimes looks secondary. You like pictures, music, architectural work. Why do you have to buy a piece of furniture for 1,500 dollars when you can put it together yourself for 300 dollars? The process of getting there is even more exciting.”
Vizquel collects photographs and vintage cameras and plays drums. He draws and paints portraits with water colors, including a portrait of Tigers coach and former White Sox manager Gene Lamont.
A Seattle resident, Vizquel does not hear much disco in the Tigers’ clubhouse. “There’s lots of EDM (Electronic Dance Music),” said Vizquel, whose walk-up music included Led Zeppelin’s “Black Dog” and “The Immigrant Song” to honor his Venezuelan roots. “We play ‘Fireball’ by Pit Bull when we win. Every team I know has a song they play after they win. Last year was (DJ Snake’s) ‘Turn Down For What.’ As far as disco coming back, that’s weird. I listen to all kinds of music, but mostly rock ‘n’ roll. When I was a kid I loved KISS. They play a little bit of ‘Detroit Rock City’ in Detroit and that’s kind of cool.
“But to see what happened on that day of Disco Demolition? People were ripping shirts off each other. Short shorts on the field. Guys burning stuff in the outfield. They stole home plate. I’ve seen fights and burning stuff in the stands in Venezuela, but never anything like this on that night in Chicago.”
Anti-Disco Army and WDAI promotional buttons
Steve and Janet Dahl 1979 Christmas Card photo
A TEAM FOR THE AGES
On August 11, 1978, less than a year before Disco Demolition, Janet Joliat married Steve Dahl. They have endured the magnitude of Disco Demolition, Steve’s battle with alcoholism, job instability. The Dahls have raised three wonderful sons.
None of the Dahls like disco.
Janet Dahl sat alone on the sofa in their southwest suburban Chicago home. “[Steve is] introverted. I don’t think a lot of people know him really well. He’s not comfortable in the world.” She looked around the living room and continued, “This is his safe house. He is very happy with a snack tray and a television set. Steve married everything he wasn’t; he was uneducated and he married a teacher going to law school. He was shy and he married a blabber. He had a very dysfunctional family and he married into this grounded Irish-German family. I was a lifeline for him and he was an adventure for me.
“The
