The St. Louis Park Parkettes organization was unique—as high school danceline girls, modeled after the New York City Rockettes, this prestigious group of teenagers were the official cheerleaders for the Minnesota Vikings in 1964-65 and again in 1967 through 1983. From 1973 to 1976, at 15 to 18 years old, I was lucky to be one of them.
Courtesy of Rebecca Bender
Glory Days
There are so many clear memories of my three years as a St. Louis Park Parkette—lots of practicing to achieve near-perfect synchronization with 39 other girls on Tuesdays and Fridays in the concession stand hallway after school (after trying to warm up our leg muscles by stretching on the cold granite floor), frequent laughter, and perennial critiquing by our leader Toni Swiggum. For all of us, dancing and cheering for the Minnesota Vikings ranked at the top of our Parkette experiences.
Courtesy of Rebecca Bender/Parkettes.org
To preface, we would arrive by St. Louis Park school bus a couple of hours before Vikings games started at Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington, otherwise known as the “Old Met.” We walked to “our” dugout, (the Minnesota Twins’ visitors dugout) to organize our costumes and props. We passed by enthusiastic fans grilling hot dogs, Vikings players doing jumping jacks, the grounds crew spray painting the field, the band practicing, and local and national broadcasters—including Jack Whitaker, Phyllis George, Brent Musburger, and Irv Cross—checking their broadcast volumes.
We knew about 100 short dances, which we performed at games when “Red” McLeod and the Vikings Band played, or when recordings were played over the loudspeakers during pregame, timeouts, two-minute warnings, and commercials. These “shorts” were oftentimes performed with specific props, such as satin-lined capes, hula hoops, maracas, canes, flags, parasols, and tambourines with ironed ribbons matching our outfits. The eclectic music ranged from “Theme from Patton” to “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown,” and once the temperatures dropped, “Jingle Bell Rock.” There were also numerous cheers we performed to urge the crowd’s participation, sometimes with the assistance of the Vikings’ mascot, Hub Meeds.
Courtesy of Rebecca Bender
When a girl was selected to be a Parkette, the involvement of the whole family cannot be overestimated—from backup alarm clock and transportation to sewing on dangling sequins on costumes and chaperoning. But the ultimate symbol of sacrifice by our parents was them selling NFL Pro Programs in the parking lot of Metropolitan Stadium—in inclement weather. Legend has it that one Parkette parent tried to sell a program to quarterback Fran Tarkenton, as he got out of his car. “I already know the lineups,” he told the eager saleslady.
Just as with Balanchine’s choreography for the New York City Ballet, the older Parkette routines were passed down. Some, choreographed by original Parkette leader Fran Libby in the 1950s, were performed for almost 30 years. The senior and junior Parkettes patiently taught the dances to the younger girls who would replace them once they graduated from high school. Then, the process started all over again. The dances and steps were bequeathed, just as the old costumes were, to a new group of fresh-faced sophomores. And the dance numbers miraculously survived. They were so engrained in our minds with the repeated practices, that many of us still remember good chunks of them, 50 years or more later.
Courtesy of Minnesota Vikings Magazine
When the 1974 SuperBowl pitted the NFC Champion Minnesota Vikings against the AFC champion Miami Dolphins, the Parkettes were invited to attend the game in Houston. As we walked down the stairs from our hotel rooms to go to breakfast, we were surprised by the sounds of flashbulbs and clicking cameras. Sports Illustrated photographers captured our every move and even came to our practices.
Photo by Nancy Bender
Once the game started at Rice Stadium, the excitement from the 72,000 fans had reached fever pitch. The game went by too quickly, as our cheers did not lead to a Vikings victory. Final score: Dolphins 24, Vikings 7. We learned firsthand about the fleeting nature of fame, when Sports Illustrated only published photos of the NFL Champion’s cheerleaders.
A New Era
The last Vikings game at the Met took place on Dec. 20, 1981. It was bittersweet, dancing with current and past Parkettes for the last half-time show at this grand amphitheater. I returned to my apartment to continue studying for law school exams and put on my little black and white TV. Frank Sinatra was singing “There Used to Be a Ballpark,” as the Met Stadium goalposts fell, along with my tears.
I thought the Parkettes would always be the Minnesota Vikings cheerleaders, but as the Vikings were heading indoors, general manager Mike Lynn was looking for a change. He envisioned cheerleaders who were “more mature girls,” maybe even with breastplates, like in the old Kirk Douglas Vikings movies.
Since the time I had been a Parkette, NFL teams had almost exclusively gone to the scantily clad “mature girls” with bathing suit calendars and modeling careers. But I thought Minnesota would continue to hold out, realizing the unique, wholesome tradition of high school girls who faced the elements with smiles, splits on the ice, dance routines to classic and current songs, and precision high kicks in the snow.
I had come to learn that trumpeter swans were protected in Minnesota under federal migratory bird law to avoid extinction, and that they had a deep trumpeting call (like Parkettes yelling out cheers). I wrote a letter to Minneapolis Star columnist Doug Grow, who took up the cause, quoting from my poem, “Don’t Shoot the Trumpeter Swans (Courage or Conformity)” in a December 1981 article. Mike Lynn seemed persuaded, stating, “We’ll give the Parkettes at least a year in [the Metrodome.] They froze to death with us at the old place, they deserve a year in here.”
The victory was short-lived. The Vikings organization officially ended its relationship with the St. Louis Park Parkettes in 1984. Though that decision was difficult to witness, former Parkettes were and still are loyal to the Vikings and its fans for all the years of wonderful memories.
Courtesy of Minneapolis Star Archives
Part of the Family
Fast forward 32 years, to August 2016, when the Vikings planned their move to U.S. Bank Stadium. For the first preseason game, they announced plans to invite back Minnesota Vikings Cheerleader alumni for a pregame show. The invitation went out to alumni from 1984 through 2015. The Parkettes were not invited.
When asked about it, the Vikings organization announced the Parkettes were never Vikings cheerleaders, they were “just the Parkettes,” who appeared at some Vikings games. They didn’t know who they were dealing with. Cheering outside all those years turned us into tough cookies. To paraphrase the late Jim Croce, if you’re smart, you don’t pull on a Parkette’s cape any more than you should spit in the wind.
I sent the Vikings administration office a copy of the page from the NFL Pro Program sold at the Vikings games, which referred to the Parkettes as the “Official Viking Cheerleaders.” Then, I, a lawyer, explained to the Vikings front office the meaning of the term “admission against interest.” With this irrefutable evidence, and a groundswell of support from old Parkettes and loyal Minnesota fans, the Vikings had to change their game plan.
Those Parkettes who wanted to dance at the Vikings pregame show with other alumni the following year were allowed to do so. Lizz, my old Parkette pal, now sits on the Vikings Cheerleader Alumni Board. The Parkettes are mentioned on the Vikings Cheerleaders Alumni Facebook page and in the Vikings Museum in Eagan.
We Parkettes took our lead from the inimitable Bud Grant. The players had no heaters or hand or feet warmers out on the field, and neither did their cheerleaders. The message? Minnesotans can make it through anything, as long as we keep moving and have goals yet to achieve.
Courtesy of St. Louis Park High Echowan Yearbook
The excerpts and photos above are from Rebecca E. Bender’s recently completed manuscript, titled “Deep Footprints in the Snow: A Minnesota Memoir.” Rebecca’s first memoir/biography, co-authored with her dad Kenneth Bender, “Still” (NDSU Press, 2019), won the Midwest Book Award Gold Medal, the First Place Independent Press Award, and an Independent Publishers’ Award.
