Billy Payne's Olympic Autobiography Remains A Work In Progress

When it comes to Games-related memoirs, Peter Ueberroth set the Olympic standard when he wrote "Made In America" with Richard Levin and Amy Quinn.

The 1984 TIME Magazine Man of the Year published his five-ringed autobiography after leading the Los Angeles Olympic Organizing Committee to record-setting profitability. 

Several other OOC CEO's also wrote tell-all books. 

Mitt Romney shared his "Turnaround" story after leading the 2002 Salt Lake committee in the wake of an Olympic bribery scandal. 

In "My Greek Drama" the Athens 2004 CEO Gianna Agelopoulos-Daskalaki shared how she led a successful bid team to bring the Games home to Greece, then how she saved the nation from humiliation when the IOC threatened their cancellation due to lack of preparation.

And north of the border, John Furlong wrote "Patriot Hearts" about the many 2010 Vancouver Olympic challenges and feats.

Noticeably missing from the roundup, however, remains a behind-the-scenes account for what was billed as "the world's largest peace-time gathering ever." 

I'm writing, of course, about the 1996 Centennial Olympic Games and its leader, William Porter "Billy" Payne. 

Many still wonder, "Where is his Olympic book?"

Later in this post, there's an update on Payne's answer to this question. I asked him about it at the Sept. 18, 2015, celebration he hosted in honor of the friends who rallied with Payne to bid for and win the Games 25 years ago. 

But before touching on Payne's autobiography update, some additional background to set up the questions posed and answers provided a few nights ago.

In the months after Atlanta's Games ended, there was speculation about a planned Olympic book by Payne. There was also discussion as to how to summarize the Centennial Games which were a vast success but not without some avoidable snafus. 

How could Payne (or anyone) write about the Atlanta Committee for the Olympic Games (ACOG) without acknowledging real or perceived glitches of that memorable summer (in no particular order, the "Situations Normal All Flamed Up" included a terrorist attack, power failures big and small, media bus delays and the off-venue transformation of downtown Atlanta into a citywide version of the city's popular Scott's Flea Market). 

By the time the Sydney Olympiad rolled around, it was clear Payne decided not to write his story of Olympic glory with all its trials and tribulations, or at least to delay such a project. That was a big disappointment to some fans, volunteers, historians and, I would argue, Olympic movers and shakers eager to learn from ACOG's many successes or lessons.

As a member of Payne's ACOG staff in 1996, and later as an entry level public relations executive in 1997 to 2000, my P.R.-skewed perspective at the time was that Payne never embraced media relations in his leadership role, and media scrutiny became Payne's biggest Achilles' heel, a mistake common among CEOs and lawyers (Payne wore both of these career hats). 

I also theorized that a year or two after the '96 Closing Ceremonies, still smarting from a few things beyond his control/scope of work but for which media remained critical of ACOG top brass, Payne delayed or scrapped a book out of concern or fear his version of events might not stand up to media scrutiny; it occurred to me that, like Richard Nixon at his famous "last press conference" Payne would have just assumed tell the media, "You won't have Billy to kick around anymore."

Once Payne donned the staff jacket for Augusta National Golf Club, no more would he look back or give media another "in" to ask tough questions about Atlanta missing "best ever Games" status from IOC President Juan Antonio Samaranch, a popular story line in media after Atlanta's Olympics.

One person who DID write an insider's version of Atlanta Olympic events was C. Richard Yarbrough, who served as managing director of communications for ACOG. I first met Yarbrough in winter 1996 on a referral from John Graham, then CEO of Fleishman-Hillard in St. Louis (on my last day at F-H, Graham told me, a fall 1995 intern, to "Go see my good friend Dick when you get to Atlanta" and I did, and Yarbrough was among those first met after settling in at ACOG's offices in the INFORUM).

In 2000, Yarbrough published "And They Call Them Games -- An Inside View of the 1996 Olympics" which became the main authoritative narrative of Atlanta's Games. I've always appreciated that Yarbrough invited my two cents on the book's content, and his inclusion of my name in the acknowledgements took my breath away (he also was key to landing my first P.R. job in town, so thanks are in order on that front, too).

Though Yarbrough's book accurately delves into many of ACOG's inner workings and is a great read, over time a hunger remained for Payne's tell-all tale. 

As "blogger Nick" attending the Payne's "Dreamers & Believers" party a few nights ago, I asked Payne for the status of a book -- any book (???) -- and the extent to which he may have had a change of heart to write it.

"I never said I didn't want to do it," said Payne. "In fact, I've actually written 85 percent of it, and I did that within the first couple of years [after 1996]. But I got tired of doing it."

Payne explained that before and during the Games he had a personal archivist who shadowed most of his daily work for the specific purpose of capturing an authentic play-by-play of the Olympic organization. This shadow person also carried a recording device and wrote copious notes, according to Payne, and the extensive collection of materials is challenging to manage.

"It got to be too much work," said Payne.

At this moment in our conversation, Ambassador Andrew Young, who was seated nearby, chimed in to explain that he now has some type of video recording device in his home or office that permits him to just sit down, push a button and start talking for posterity.

Young suggested Payne should get one of these devices to record his memoirs during Payne's "healing time" in a few years.

"You mean my old age," said Payne, laughing with Young.

Payne picked up where he left off stating his plans for an Olympic book and biography.

"I'm going to finish it," said Payne.

When this writer asked Payne to expand on the possible timing of the book release -- suggesting 2020 might be a good option, before ACOG's 25th anniversary in 2021 -- Payne responded with his perspective.

"I haven't connected [finishing] it to a calendar because it wouldn't be a for-profit kind of thing," said Payne. "It's not a business thing for me. It's just something you write, you write it to leave it to your grandchildren."

Then Payne said something that took me back to my late 1990's speculation. 

With a gleam in his eye while perhaps studying my reaction, Payne added, "You write it to maybe clarify the record." 

We both chuckled. 

At this time I thanked Payne for answering my questions as he motioned to an old friend a welcome to the party site. Sadly, no time this time for another book question. 

My follow up for another day -- and message of encouragement from the International Society of Olympic Historians member corner of my brain -- will be to ask or suggest that Payne bury the hatchet with reporters and hire one of the best sports biographers in the world, Laura Hillenbrand of "Unbroken" and "Seabiscuit" fame, to dive into the Payne Olympic archive and get that book across the finish line. 

It may take more than the "one month" Payne predicted, but, oh, what a book that could be! Imagine the Olympic bid story followed by the ACOG organizational story. Dare to dream of a great book on the horizon. 

With these Atlanta Olympic CEO book wishes in mind, I took the liberty of creating some suggestions as working titles. 

With thanks to Getty Images/Heinz Kluetmeier (photographer for the background image I borrowed, previously used for Sport Illustrated's pre-Games cover story about Payne), those title ideas are presented to the left and below this post's footnote. 

Here's hoping Payne will resume his writing project soon!

Images via Amazon.com and Getty Images

Mind Your Mentoring

In recent weeks, the topic of mentoring has been on the brain. At my desk at Edelman, work with our client PINK focused on the launch of this national outlet's "Minute Mentor" segments, which recipients of The Little PINK Book or anyone may access online.

Several mentors helped me on the journey from a high school student to an Atlanta public relations media supervisor. Two of these special people to me have an Olympic connection.

The following paragraphs include first names only because, unfortunately, some big gaps of time lapsed since the most recent contact with these mentors (committing here to get back in touch!).

The first professional mentor who accidentally earned that title is Leslie.

During the year building up to U.S. Olympic Festival '89 -- the Oklahoma City sports event where "it all started" (my hard core enthusiasm for the Olympics, that is) -- Leslie was the public relations director for the Festival organizing committee.

On my first day as a summer volunteer (at age 15, in 1988), Leslie assigned me some phone bank research and, I think, a media list project. Mundane, yes, but Leslie took the time to explain the importance of getting the facts and figures right, for the public (fellow volunteers and potential ticket buyers) and for reporters. She put the project into the context of shaping opinion about the Festival, and that made everything (including spell check by hand from a phone book) more important and interesting.

Several office projects later, Leslie got me working at one of the Festival's P.R. events. Seeing how it all came together -- the details, the food, the fancy business clothes, the media interest -- introduced me to P.R. She encouraged me, taught me, answered all the silly questions. My ego was boosted by some "Nick P.R." the committee embarked on for a volunteer contribution at the end of the summer. I was drunk on publicity and how it worked!

When school finally ended in the spring of 1989, I could hardly wait to get back to volunteering, and Leslie was there teaching how the media could be engaged on several fronts:

• Media stunts (100 volunteers parked Oklahoma-made GM cars in the shape of the OK89 logo for a photo opportunity)


• Media events (the statewide Olympic Torch Relay)


• Dedication ceremonies (the unveiling of a downtown Oklahoma City Olympic-themed statue)
  

These topics and pitching Festival "story angles" and "media relations" all entered my lexicon thanks to Leslie, who was the main organizing committee P.R. contact who worked with the U.S. Olympic Committee during the actual Festival (seeing the U.S.O.C.'s media operations for the Festival was eye-opening, to be sure -- especially in the pre-Fax, pre-Internet days!).

Leslie went on to work for a global energy company before starting a family, and she was an outstanding touchstone as my college degree du jour evolved from psychology to international relations and finally mass communications at Minnesota State University-Mankato (in those days, MSU stood only for Mankato State U. -- Sarah Palin would love it there, as the mascot was very Mavericky!). Though not often enough, I think of all the time Leslie took to care and listen. Hooray for my professional mentor, Leslie!

A shout out to another mentor of the U.S. Olympic Festival '89 experience: Mr. Clay Bennett! He certainly helped Oklahoma to fulfill the Festival's motto "Winning a Place in the World." (I will write more about Bennett in a separate, future post).

Another mentor in my life entered the scene in 1993, but neither of us knew she was destined for mentor status until the summer of 1994 at the U.S. Olympic Festival of St. Louis. Margaret was an executive on loan to the Festival organizing committee (I later learned she served many years as one of Monsanto's top female executives at a time when there were few to zero women above the glass ceiling).

Margaret was tough, but not one to take no for an answer. In our 15 x 20 office shared at the Washington University in St. Louis Olin Business School (built adjacent to the 1904 St. Louis Olympic venues), Margaret masterminded the best U.S. Olympic Festival Athlete Village in the history of the USOF.

When unexpected challenges came along, she found a solution, or taught our team how. She was outstanding at managing tons of data, hundreds of people (and their vast personality differences) and making things work. And she kept everything upbeat and low key, never letting anyone see her sweat (though there were plenty of times we were all up late sweating to get the Village ready).

After the Festival, Margaret was the touchstone of my later college and early career milestones, from landing two internships (the first with the U.S.O.C. intern program, the second at the Fleishman-Hillard home office), to a first-time full-time job with the Atlanta Committee for the Olympic Games. She also taught the importance of community involvement as her own career evolved into leading a nonprofit organization in St. Louis.

My thanks go out to Leslie and Margaret, and many other mentors who helped along the way.