It’s about the future of our region. It’s about how we are perceived. It’s about no longer accepting the notion that our assets can just dissolve in front of us and leave. We need to fight for what is rightfully ours.
-Dave Peacock, Co-Chair St. Louis Stadium Task Force
How do you write an ode? How do you put your affections into words? How do you communicate the incommunicable sentiments that fill your heart? How do you express the intangible ideals that are inherent in your blood and guts and yet some how, some way, for some reason, cannot be shared with the world? Love. Longing. Dedication. Belief. Most of all belief. Why do we believe in things that we cannot see or touch? Why do we believe that the way that we we see the future is also the way that it is actually going to play out, that our version of the forthcoming is also the one that is eventually going to come true?
How do you quantify belief? How do you realize promise? How can you tell if your vision is worth following through on? Standing here, on the Western banks of the Mississippi River, under the Gateway Arch, I am struck by the paradox fundamentally imbedded into these deep-rooted thoughts, I am taken aback by contradiction present in these unanswered questions. Measuring the immeasurable is not an easy task anywhere; measuring the immeasurable is an impossible undertaking here, right here, right up against the edges of our nation’s most traveled thoroughfare. On one side nothing. Isolation. Decay. The broken down asphalt of emptiness; the broken down asphalt of what could have been; the broken down asphalt of what, seemingly, will never be.
-Dave Peacock, Co-Chair St. Louis Stadium Task Force
How do you write an ode? How do you put your affections into words? How do you communicate the incommunicable sentiments that fill your heart? How do you express the intangible ideals that are inherent in your blood and guts and yet some how, some way, for some reason, cannot be shared with the world? Love. Longing. Dedication. Belief. Most of all belief. Why do we believe in things that we cannot see or touch? Why do we believe that the way that we we see the future is also the way that it is actually going to play out, that our version of the forthcoming is also the one that is eventually going to come true?
How do you quantify belief? How do you realize promise? How can you tell if your vision is worth following through on? Standing here, on the Western banks of the Mississippi River, under the Gateway Arch, I am struck by the paradox fundamentally imbedded into these deep-rooted thoughts, I am taken aback by contradiction present in these unanswered questions. Measuring the immeasurable is not an easy task anywhere; measuring the immeasurable is an impossible undertaking here, right here, right up against the edges of our nation’s most traveled thoroughfare. On one side nothing. Isolation. Decay. The broken down asphalt of emptiness; the broken down asphalt of what could have been; the broken down asphalt of what, seemingly, will never be.
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