A Holidome I've never visitedOne great thing about my experience in fatherhood is that I get to revisit the joys of my own childhood through my daughter.
I get to go to parks and ride on swings and slides. I get to go to baseball games and buy cheap, but expensive souvenirs. I get to judge a hotel by the size of its pool.
I’ve got two questions for you: 1) What happened to all the Holidomes? 2) Do you know the Holidomes of which I speak?
For the uninitiated losers, a Holidome was a style of Holiday Inn popular from the 1970s through the 1980s. It distinguished itself from mere mortal hotels by the presence of a dome-like roof over a dusty collection of the most beautiful potted trees and ferns, a big swimming pool, a Jacuzzi, sauna, pool tables, Ping-Pong tables, miniature golf, an arcade and
well-stocked, state-of-the-art vending machines.
When you grow up in rural Iowa, buying a package of Zingers from a motorized machine is a big deal, OK?
Holidomes were pretty popular up north, where families wanting to avoid the type of cabin fever that can lead to death by hatchet would pile into the car, take a short road trip away from home and check in for a weekend of Holidome-style family fun. I even went to a few Holidome birthday parties where the only logical way to clean the orange Cheetos crust off your fingers seemed to be to take a quick dip in the hot tub.
A Holidome was heaven on earth for a kid – this kid, anyway – and I wanted my daughter to be able to have that same great experience growing up.
My dad taught me to swim the backstroke in the cavernous oasis of a Holidome pool. If I remember correctly, it was the Des Moines Airport/Conference Center Holiday Inn, conveniently located at 6111 Fleur Drive. I can recall looking up at the domed skylight as I backstroked my first length of the pool and thinking life can’t get any better than this.
And you know what? It hasn’t. Because over the last 20 years they’ve gotten rid of all the dang Holidomes.
We took a little family road trip last weekend to Savannah and I was given the assignment of finding us a kid-friendly hotel. To me, that meant Holidome, nothing less, but Savannah is all fancy and doesn’t have a Holidome. In fact, a little research revealed there isn’t a Holidome in the entire state of Georgia or South Carolina.
There used to be one in Columbia. I saw it with my own eyes.
My wife was sent there seven years ago by the state government for professional training in how to snatch babies for Child Protective Services and I went “to visit her.” Actually, I just wanted to remember what it felt like to play Ms. Pac-Man sopping wet and full of Cheetos. I did, and it felt surprisingly similar to having an angry wife lock you out of a hotel room. Those are your tax dollars at work, folks!
Back in present-day Savannah without a Holidome (they say Sherman didn't burn Savannah because it was so beautiful and gave the city to Lincoln as a Christmas present, but they don't tell you that Lincoln returned it when he found out it didn't have a Holidome), I ended up booking us a couple of nights in a new hotel on the outskirts of the famed historic district with a great view of the Savannah Housing Authority’s Fred Wessels Homes, also known as “the projects.”
They did have free internet, waffles in the morning and a pool the size of Oprah’s toilet, in which no one is short enough to learn the backstroke.
The Holidome definitely spoiled me, and there have been some other long-lasting negative side effects.
I’ve been scolded for turning my nose up at a lot of very classy – some might say “romantic” – overnight accommodations because the lobby did not smell of chlorine like I’ve been conditioned to believe any good hotel’s must.
Also, I blame the Holidome for my lifelong disgust and fear of standing in someone else’s wet. With so much of the excitement centered on aquatic fun, there are a lot of wet spots around a Holidome. To this day, having to put my bare feet into a puddle of water created by the runoff from some wet stranger’s body, or even a close family friend, can ruin an otherwise great time.
Just thinking about waiting in line on the stairs leading to the top of a waterslide makes me nauseous. I suppose if I can avoid passing along that kind of pain and psychosis to my daughter, I can live without a Holidome.
I get to go to parks and ride on swings and slides. I get to go to baseball games and buy cheap, but expensive souvenirs. I get to judge a hotel by the size of its pool.
I’ve got two questions for you: 1) What happened to all the Holidomes? 2) Do you know the Holidomes of which I speak?
For the uninitiated losers, a Holidome was a style of Holiday Inn popular from the 1970s through the 1980s. It distinguished itself from mere mortal hotels by the presence of a dome-like roof over a dusty collection of the most beautiful potted trees and ferns, a big swimming pool, a Jacuzzi, sauna, pool tables, Ping-Pong tables, miniature golf, an arcade and
well-stocked, state-of-the-art vending machines.When you grow up in rural Iowa, buying a package of Zingers from a motorized machine is a big deal, OK?
Holidomes were pretty popular up north, where families wanting to avoid the type of cabin fever that can lead to death by hatchet would pile into the car, take a short road trip away from home and check in for a weekend of Holidome-style family fun. I even went to a few Holidome birthday parties where the only logical way to clean the orange Cheetos crust off your fingers seemed to be to take a quick dip in the hot tub.
A Holidome was heaven on earth for a kid – this kid, anyway – and I wanted my daughter to be able to have that same great experience growing up.
My dad taught me to swim the backstroke in the cavernous oasis of a Holidome pool. If I remember correctly, it was the Des Moines Airport/Conference Center Holiday Inn, conveniently located at 6111 Fleur Drive. I can recall looking up at the domed skylight as I backstroked my first length of the pool and thinking life can’t get any better than this.
And you know what? It hasn’t. Because over the last 20 years they’ve gotten rid of all the dang Holidomes.
We took a little family road trip last weekend to Savannah and I was given the assignment of finding us a kid-friendly hotel. To me, that meant Holidome, nothing less, but Savannah is all fancy and doesn’t have a Holidome. In fact, a little research revealed there isn’t a Holidome in the entire state of Georgia or South Carolina.
There used to be one in Columbia. I saw it with my own eyes.My wife was sent there seven years ago by the state government for professional training in how to snatch babies for Child Protective Services and I went “to visit her.” Actually, I just wanted to remember what it felt like to play Ms. Pac-Man sopping wet and full of Cheetos. I did, and it felt surprisingly similar to having an angry wife lock you out of a hotel room. Those are your tax dollars at work, folks!
Back in present-day Savannah without a Holidome (they say Sherman didn't burn Savannah because it was so beautiful and gave the city to Lincoln as a Christmas present, but they don't tell you that Lincoln returned it when he found out it didn't have a Holidome), I ended up booking us a couple of nights in a new hotel on the outskirts of the famed historic district with a great view of the Savannah Housing Authority’s Fred Wessels Homes, also known as “the projects.”
They did have free internet, waffles in the morning and a pool the size of Oprah’s toilet, in which no one is short enough to learn the backstroke.
The Holidome definitely spoiled me, and there have been some other long-lasting negative side effects.
I’ve been scolded for turning my nose up at a lot of very classy – some might say “romantic” – overnight accommodations because the lobby did not smell of chlorine like I’ve been conditioned to believe any good hotel’s must.
Also, I blame the Holidome for my lifelong disgust and fear of standing in someone else’s wet. With so much of the excitement centered on aquatic fun, there are a lot of wet spots around a Holidome. To this day, having to put my bare feet into a puddle of water created by the runoff from some wet stranger’s body, or even a close family friend, can ruin an otherwise great time.
Just thinking about waiting in line on the stairs leading to the top of a waterslide makes me nauseous. I suppose if I can avoid passing along that kind of pain and psychosis to my daughter, I can live without a Holidome.
10 comments:
I stayed at a holidome up by chicago and it was awesome. But now I am too revolted by public wetness and all water parks.
There is one hotel that is similar, Ogleby Park in Wheeling West Virginia. It's pool is straight from the 70s.
sweet article. I stayed at a holidome once in middle school on a trip to hannibal, missouri, to visit mark twain's boyhoood home, with my pal dennis and his mom (ask carolina about dennis). needless to say the best part about the trip was running around the holidome making trouble.
I just found this blog on a search for Holidomes, particularly one in Salina, Kansas that my family and I used to stay on our way out to Colorado in the 1980's and early 1990's (back when I was a kid!) before Holidomes died out. It is now sadly a run down Ramada with bad reviews -- 15-25 years ago it was a great "first stop" on many of our trips outwest -- back when the speed limit was 65 and even 55!
It was great -- an indoor/outdoor pool, a great hot tub, an arcade, an 18 hole mini golf course, a restaurant, ping pong, etc. We loved it as much as anything else on the trip.
I have never understood the move from the Holidome idea to the new generic hotel. I loved the atrium setting with rooms surrounding the "play area". it gave that open air "resort" family feeling that was refreshing -- and not just for kids, but for adults too.
I think that if Holiday Inn (which I know is rebranding) or any other chain re-adopted this model and built their chain around NICE, CLEAN, FAMILY-STYLE "holidome" "atrium" hotels (2-4 stories, with all the same features), with a marketing slogan of "reigniting the family vacation or weekend outing" (or something like that), it would take off.
In any event, it's sad. Staying in hotels now gets you nothing more than a dinky pool in a small rectangle room with maybe a hot tub, but no "fun". Part of this is because of texting, laptops, facebook, and such -- back in the "day" we didn't have those things -- and running out to the Holidome was the way to have fun -- and we had a lot of it.
I totally remember staying at the hannibal MO holidome with my family in the late 70s/early 80s. When I look at current pictures of what it is now, I can still see the area where I used to lay under the warming lamps, and where the vending machines were. I can still smell the chlorine :)
10 years later and I'm in that exact hotel. I'm a child of the 80's and 90's and remember the exact sentiment of the OP. It didnt matter what was going on outside, staying at the holidome meant a seriously good time, even if it was 0 degrees and snowing. So now, I'm at the Ambassador Hotel in Salina, KS for a conference and am overcome with sadness. 25 years ago a conference at a holidome would have been a great, even family friendly time. Today it means, I've had to switch rooms because my first one smelled, and looked, like an ashtray. The pool is permanently closed. The putt-putt is gone. The space that was once vibrant and full of life sits, hoping for another conference to pay the next round of Bill's, let alone make improvements. While I stare at the decaying structure, stained ceiling tiles and carpet, and a massive, empty dome, i realize more and more what they learn when they say you cant go home.
In the mid 1980s mom and dad took us to a holidome and I recall seeing vibrant shrubs and trees growing thick like a jungle. It was amazing! There were 3 pool tables and an 18 hole mini golf. All around the giant swimming pool were tables to eat on and trees and shrubs everywhere. There were even three maybe four taller palm trees that were towering so high that they were touching the glass ceiling! Our hotel room had a sliding door that you would walk out onto the putting green and Mom would tell us kids to have fun! I can still see Mom and Dad sitting in the hot tub surrounded in shrubs. Fast forward to today.. My wife and are currently staying at a new holiday inn express 120 bucks for one night. No sliding doors leading to a holidome of course. Why did holiday inn quit making holidomes??? So sad
I stayed at the Holidome in Spartanburg South Carolina over a 5 year period. I always stayed in the rooms around the pool and pool tables and ate dinner at the restaurant pool side. I bettered my ability to shoot pool at the tables in the gaming areas of the hotel. Wish I could stay there again. It was an amazing hotel that knew who I was when I checked in each week. I was very impressed by the commitment to knowing there customers.
Back in the 70's and 80's, My Family and I would Travel to Hannibal, Missouri And We stayed at The Holiday Holidome, We all Loved it. Indoor Pool, Arcade, whirlpool, Saunas, Inside Restaurant, Rooms Poolside. Miss those Days.
I loved that Place, My Family and I stayed there, We had a blast!
Eye-opening and motivating. Saunas assist with every thing. I need to learn more. Any resources? saunajournal.com
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