One by one, the people wander slowly through the enshrinement hall and instinctively whisper the names of the former greats, as if to give homage.
Sammy Baugh. Joe Schmidt. Bronko Nagurski.
Row after row of life-size bronze busts pay no heed. A narrow spotlight shines down on each -- men captured forever young and clear-eyed, determined and tough, in cold, hard metal. It's hard not to feel a little bit awed in this gridiron cathedral in Canton, Ohio.
In Niche 7F, one of the greatest of them all can be found. Not with his trademark crew cut. More a late-'60s style with a part. He is looking in the distance -- to Raymond Berry near the sideline, perhaps? A small index card has recently been added to remind us of the sad fact we already know:
Johnny Unitas. May 7, 1933 -- Sept. 11, 2002.
"It was a special feeling to see [Unitas]," says Robert Schlote, 49, of Frederick, who is visiting here with his sons, age 9 and 12. "He was one of my first heroes."
With the passing of the Baltimore Colts' legendary quarterback, it seemed a good time to make a call on the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, a city of 30,000 people in northeast Ohio, 50 miles south of Cleveland and about a 6 1/2 -hour drive from Baltimore.
Sure, the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y., gets more press. Base-ball and nostalgia seem to go together like the Orioles and a fourth-place finish.
As it happens, I dragged my family to Cooperstown last summer. My wife had protested. She envisioned exhibit after boring exhibit of old baseballs -- this one was "hit by Shoeless Joe Jackson to set the major-league record for triples in one week," that sort of thing.
It turned out to be a wonderful and evocative experience even for our 3-year-old, who sat unflinching through a multi- media presentation about the history of the game.
"Better than I expected," was my wife's generous appraisal by the day's end. We were just as much charmed by historic Cooperstown with its small-town, lakefront scenery, cute memorabilia shops and general sentimentality.
But Canton? And football? That sounded a little hard-core to my wife. Her feelings about the sport can most generously be described as mixed. She doesn't understand how anyone can get attached to a game featuring big men holding a series of committee meetings interrupted by periodic bouts of ritualized violence.
I had to admit Canton is not high on most people's lists of vacation destinations. Even the folks at the hall of fame say it's a place people tend to visit while on their way to someplace else -- a nice rest stop when shuffling off to Buffalo.
And would there be anything in this Rust Belt city to entertain young children when we were finished seeing the football sights? On that point, even I was a little unclear.
For the nonfan, too
When we arrived in Canton, it was a little past noon, and we headed straight for the Pro Football Hall of Fame. It was easy enough to find. The entrance is just off I-77, and when I say, "just off," I'm talking about maybe 100 yards.
Charming, sleepy downtown Cooperstown this is not. (Albeit, a bustling interstate highway might be a better metaphor for football -- busy, exciting and a little scary).
I had seen photos of the entrance with its trademark ovoid roof seemingly stuck halfway into a circular rotunda like a football on a tee. (Hall regulars prefer to describe this shape as orange juicer architecture).
Opened in 1963, the hall has expanded three times to its current 83,000 square feet -- about the size of 1 1/2 football fields -- or, basically, a Wal-Mart. Admission is $12 for adults, $6 for children, and plan to spend at least two hours here and preferably three. Yes, it's worth it.
Your first stop must certainly be the rotunda, the circular building you first enter. Its exhibits trace the history of football from its earliest days in western Pennsylvania to the first pro league, which was located in Canton (and thus explains that "Why Canton?" question that hall officials are always hearing).
Unitas gets his due here. A display lists his 47 consecutive games with at least one touchdown pass alongside an impossibly white No. 19 uniform and a picture of the man with the golden arm at the height of his success.
But the best stuff is from even earlier. The first examples of shoulder and hip pads, cleats and wool uniforms look like ancient relics. They even have a 1920s-era uniform worn by Jim Thorpe when he played for the Canton Bulldogs, the local pro team back when football was mostly a college game and not the national obsession it is today.
With that accomplished, you must now head straight to the hall's most popular exhibit, GameDay Stadium, where you watch a movie about the NFL. Not to give too much away, but the entire theater is built on a turntable, and at a critical point in the movie, you get turned to a much bigger, louder presentation.
The kids, age 3 and 6, loved it. And who wouldn't? Most of the film is shot in eye-popping 35mm film and presented in wraparound Cinemascope. You feel like you're on the field with the players.
And the film is narrated by that familiar voice of NFL Films, the late John Facenda, whose baritone voice could pass for God's. (Facenda's mellifluous tones are so omnipresent in the hall, the only thing lacking is a burning bush to complete the effect.)
The building's other highlights are numerous: the enshrinement hall with its 216 life-size busts, the Super Bowl experience with exhibits from the 36 championship games, the mementos room with helmets, cleats, uniforms and even Bert Bell's desk (he was an early NFL commissioner, if you had to ask).
The kids also loved the interactive features -- a trivia game where my daughter defeated all comers was particularly fun -- and the snack bar, which celebrates the phenomenon of tailgating parties.
"I know nothing about football, and I have to admit, I had fun," says Katie Givens, 20, a West Virginia University student who has brought her boyfriend here as a birthday present. "I knew he'd like it, but I was surprised I did, too."
The Pro Football Hall of Fame is more garish, more commercial (Visa sponsors a fan tribute area), louder, and less poetic and contemplative than baseball's version, but doesn't that reflect the nature of the sport? In this, I think the hall's creators were quite smart. Not subtle, but smart.
You won't find much controversy here. While the hall is a private, nonprofit organization, the NFL is its major sponsor, and you won't see a lot about drug testing, labor contracts, steroids and gambling. But hey, you get that regularly in your newspaper.
Like many other tourist attractions, the hall did lousy business last year, about 165,000 visitors, the lowest attendance since 1985. Admissions are up 10 percent this year, according to spokesman Joe Horrigan. Peak times are in midsummer when the hall enshrines its new members and the NFL kicks off its preseason in the adjoining 24,000-seat stadium. Don't worry about crowds during the remainder of the year.
Still, we were surprised the place wasn't busier. But we had fun, including the non-football-loving members of the family, which would be pretty much everyone but me.
Off the field of play
The biggest surprise in Canton isn't the number of unknown players in the hall (Alphonse Leemans? Leo Nomellini? Clarence Parker?). It's the number of fun things that a family can do here that are in no way connected with football.
It all starts with two words: McKinley and Hoover.
The number of Americans who know that President William McKinley was from Canton are probably less numerous than the number of Iraqis who voted against Saddam in the recent election.
As it turns out, our 25th president is buried here, too -- at the McKinley National Memorial, a double-domed neoclassical Greek mausoleum built on top of a hill. McKinley, who must surely be the least appreciated assassinated president (killed in 1901 by anarchist Leon Czolgosz, who is fittingly the least remembered 20th-century assassin), rests inside with his wife, Ida.
Climbing the steps leading to this 95-foot-tall pink granite building is some of the best exercise you can get. But the best part is next door at the McKinley Museum.
The McKinley Museum might sound as boring as a lecture on the gold standard. But it turned out to be a wonderful facility, a large portion of which could easily pass as a children's museum with delightful, kid-friendly exhibits on dinosaurs (including a moving, life-size allosaurus), geology, native flora and fauna, physics, electricity and space exploration.
And that's just downstairs. Upstairs there was a re-created 19th-century version of Canton with shops and offices you could walk through, as well as an exhibit inviting you to visit the McKinley home and listen to animatronic versions of William and Ida.
OK, that was a little corny, but there's also a decent planetarium.
Nearly as entertaining was our visit to the Hoover Historical Center in North Canton. Much to our relief, it had nothing to do with that infamous 31st U.S. president (and stock market crasher) named Herbert.
Canton was the home of William Henry Hoover, as in the Hoover vacuum cleaner. Turns out he was a local farmer and tannery operator who wound up manufacturing a clever little device that sucked up dirt. His first vacuum, the Model 0, hit the market in 1908, and the rest is dust-busting history.
His boyhood home was turned into a clever museum detailing the evolution of vacuums. Each room represents an era, from the '20s and '30s to modern times, with examples of the Hoover vacuums and some of their competitors.
Much of it is hands-on. The kids enjoyed the earliest mechanical vacuums that required some hand-pumping or pedal pushing (or, in one case, teeter-tottering) to make them work.
The center even plays some of the familiar old jingles that were used to sell the product -- not to mention to help inspire the door-to-door salesmen that were once the vacuum's chief distributors.
There's also some history you probably don't know, like the dozens of British children that the Hoover family boarded in Canton during World War II to spare them from the bombing of London.
Still have some time left? Your next priority should be the Harry London chocolate factory tour. You may not have heard of London, a one-time Canton steelworker who underwent a midlife career change.
The chocolate company is large, supplying such diverse locales as Disney World and Uni-versal Studios with treats they market under their own brand names. Unlike the faux chocolate factory tour in Hershey, Pa., this is the real thing. For $2, you get 45 minutes all around the factory. The smells alone are worth the admission.
Be sure to pick up a box of the London mints in the factory store. It's their signature product, and your admission stub will give you a discount.
Those looking for a less caloric adventure might consider driving 20 miles or so south of Canton to the town of Sugar-creek. The charming little town is Ohio's version of Switzerland and feels as if you could run into Heidi at any moment.
One warning, however: Rela-tively few of the town's little Ger-man-Swiss gift shops and tourist attractions are open on Sunday, the day we chose to visit.
Defying conventional wisdom, we stayed overnight in Canton, checking into a perfectly nice Four Points Sheraton in North Canton. Also recommended to us by the locals are the historic McKinley Grand Hotel downtown and the Holiday Inn in North Canton.
We also give two enthusiastic thumbs up to Papa Bear's Pizza Oven Restaurant, a longtime Canton favorite. Its family-friendly, and the prices were right. We knew we hit the right place when we realized half the tables were occupied by teens dressed in formal wear. It was prom night.
There are other attractions here, too. The National First Ladies Library located in the childhood home of Ida McKinley offers tours on request. There are a number of Amish attractions, public golf courses, a scenic railroad, several outlet centers within an hour's drive, and, of course, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in nearby Cleveland.
We left Canton satisfied that we'd seen enough.
We had properly paid our respects to Johnny U., the man with the golden arm, whose accomplishments are proudly on display next to those of his fellow football gods in that Valhalla of Northeast Ohio known as Canton.
Sure, pro football is just a game, but we're not ashamed to say we even got a little misty-eyed seeing a bronze bust of its greatest hero. That alone made Canton a memorable experience.
An ideal day
9 a.m.: Begin at the Pro Football Hall of Fame. See if you can find the actual box of "Frozen Tundra" from Lambeau Field that is on display.
Noon: Have a lunch of hot dogs and hamburgers at the Tailgating snack bar. Enjoy the fact that you aren't standing in a parking lot somewhere freezing.
1 p.m.: Hike the steps leading to the McKinley National Memorial to work off lunch. Tour the adjoining museum. Be sure to try the "shadow catcher," and watch your shadow get a life of its own.
3 p.m.: Head out to the Hoover Historical Center (last tour is at 4 p.m.) and see if you can find your grandmother's vacuum.
5 p.m.: Take a tour of the Harry London chocolate factory. Linger over the steaming copper kettles of caramel.
6 p.m.: Dinner at Papa Bear's Pizza Oven Restaurant. Be sure to pet the stuffed bear in the lobby.
9 p.m.: Head over to the nearby Grand Slam USA sports complex with its indoor batting cages for your last exercise of the day. It's so Ohio.
11 p.m.: Get some sleep and dream that you're winning the greatest football game ever played.
When you go
Getting there: By car, head out I-70 west from the Balti-more Beltway to Breezewood, Pa. Take the Pennsylvania turnpike west all the way into Ohio. Stay on I-76 west to Akron and head south on I-77. By air, the nearest airport is Akron-Canton Regional, which is served by US Airways, AirTran, United and Delta.
Attractions:
Pro Football Hall of Fame, 2121 George Halas Drive NW, Canton, Ohio 44708
330-456-8207
www.profootballhof.com
* A shrine for all things related to pro football. Open daily except Christmas, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. (until 8 p.m. in the summer). Admission is $12 for adults, $6 for children 14 and under, $8 for seniors.
Hoover Historical Center, 1875 Easton St., North Canton, Ohio 44720
330-499-0287
www.hoover.com
* William H. "Boss" Hoover's boyhood home is now a paean to 90 years of electrified sweeping. Free admission. Open Tuesday through Saturday from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Harry London Chocolate Factory Tours, 5353 Lauby Road, North Canton, Ohio 44720
330-494-0833
www.harrylondon.com
* A 45-minute tour of a 200,000-square-foot candy factory. Tours available Monday through Saturday from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission is $2 adults, $1 children ages 3-18.
McKinley Museum, 800 McKinley Monument Drive, Canton, Ohio 44708
330-455-7043
www.mckinleymuseum.org
* Small, but diverse museum with plenty of kid-friendly attractions. Open Monday through Saturday from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., Sundays from noon to 5 p.m. Admission is $6 adults, $5 seniors, $4 children.
National First Ladies Library, 331 S. Market Ave., Canton, Ohio 44702
330-452-0876
www.firstladies.org
* A national archive devoted to educating the public about America's first ladies. Admission and guided tours by reservation only. Cost is $5 for adults, $4 for children and seniors. Open Tuesday through Saturday from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Alpine Hills Museum, Sugar-creek, Ohio (about 30 minutes drive southwest of Canton)
888-609-7592
www.sugarcreekohio.org
* Museum gives history of this little Switzerland of Ohio, but you may just want to browse the nearby shops. Museum is open Monday through Saturday from 10 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Suggested donation, $2.
Lodging:
Four Points Sheraton Canton, 4375 Metro Circle NW, Canton, Ohio
330-494-6494
www.fourpointscanton.com
* North Canton motel, near I-77 and shopping, with an indoor pool. Rates from $80.
McKinley Grand Hotel, 320 S. Market Ave., Canton, Ohio 44702
330-454-5000
www.mckinleygrandhotel.com
* Downtown's largest hotel, often preferred by business travelers. Rates from $79.
North Canton Holiday Inn, 4520 Everhard Road, NW, Canton, Ohio 44718
330-494-2770
www.hicanton.com
* North Canton motel with 196 guest rooms and outdoor pool. Rates from $75.