I swear I glimpsed a fedora shape in the dust for just a second as it billowed above the rubble of the euthanized icon.

I shuddered. My eyes became wet. The unthinkable happened. The home in which the NFL's most venerable franchise hatched five Superbowl victories was gone. Though the City of Irving was polite enough to give warning and sell tickets to the event, it was almost as devastating as the day Coach, or rather, Saint Tom was fired.

I have many memories of Texas Stadium.

I  saw countless High  School games there in the late 70's and early 80's. The most memorable was Lewisville upsetting the heretofore unbeatable Abilene Cooper by a whopping 3-0 in the first round of the State 5-A playoffs. I think it was 1980.

I saw the Cowboys play in Texas Stadium a  whopping two times when I was but a sprout. I personally witnessed them destroy the Detroit Lions 38-0 on Halloween 1977 on their way to their second Super Bowl victory the following January, the one where huge-thighed running back Robert Newhouse threw a touchdown pass to Golden Richards after a pitch back from quarterback Roger Staubach.

I witnessed the Lions game from my end zone seat right behind the goal  posts. Staubach, Dorsett, Newhouse, Richards, et. al. were relaxed and confident, picking their way through the Lion's defense as  if they were just pylons on an obstacle course. It was an easy victory, but a thing of beauty. They had the look of champions. I never saw a team with such confidence and talent again until 2005 when I witnessed the Texas Longhorns demolish Baylor 63-0. The Longhorns went on to take the BCS title two months later. I wonder if I'll  ever see that look again live and in-person.

The ticket price for the Detroit  game was $6. I still have the glossy stub emblazoned with a Detroit Lions helmet. It's in a box somewhere in storage. I know it. The cost of the ticket included a bus ride from Town North Mall. I'm not even sure if Town North Mall still exists. Maybe it's gone the way of Texas Stadium.

My Christmas '78 present from my sister who lived in Dallas was a divisional round playoff ticket. The Cowboys played Atlanta. It was very chilly and windy that Saturday. I think it was New Year's Eve or thereabouts. The temperature was in the teens. I was in my teens. We sat in end zone seats yet again. Everytime someone walked into the North Tunnel to our right, the icy wind blasted them back.

While fans were being knocked back by the wind, the Atlanta Defense knocked Roger Staubach unconscious on the last play of the first half. The Cowboys were behind. Their franchise star out of the game, it looked like the defending Super Bowl champs were going to fall in the first round. My sister and her old college friend spent the second half drinking hot chocolate in my sister's 1976 Monte Carlo, listening to the game on the radio.

I was cold, but a fourteen year-old kid isn't gonna miss a playoff game for anything. There could have been a blizzard and a tornado, and I would have stayed. My hands were numb by the start of the second half. It was worth it. Backup QB Danny White led the Cowboys to victory. The team went on to lose to Terry Bradshaw and the Steelers in the Super Bowl by four points. Ticket price for the Divisional Round in 1978? A whopping $12. Parking was $3.

Today's implosion of Texas Stadium is not just about the end of a stadium. It is the end of an era. Texas Stadium was a symbol of the days when the Cowboys were helmed by gentle yet firm fathers named Tom Landry and Clint Murchison. These were calm men of reason who managed not only to build  a dynastic franchise, but perform mass therapy by doing so. The city spent most of the 60's and a good portion of the 70's trying to live-down America's darkest hour. The Cowboys were a magical ointment that healed a gaping wound.

The Stadium may have been a wider symbol  for the NFL. Texas Stadium was built in the days when sports franchises were about the sport, its city, a team, and fans. It was built by private bonds. Zero tax dollars were used. It was built on empty land. Peoples' homes were not taken by some broad definition of imminent domain.

Texas Stadium was the foil of the Cowboys' present monstrous  home and every stadium now used in the NFL.

Affordable seats, no bilking of the local taxpayer-- Is it crazy to wish for the Texas Stadium model  to come back into vogue in the NFL? Looking at the present owner of the Cowboys and his ilk, yes.