Pittsburgh Steelers fans are recognized all around the world by the waving and twirling of the most iconic such item in all of sports, The Terrible Towel. To honor the history of it, the team has unveiled The Terrible Towel Wall in Heinz Field’s Great Hall.

“The Terrible Towel Wall is a great way to display and preserve the many versions of The Terrible Towel,” said team president Art Rooney II. “It makes a great addition to the Great Hall at Heinz Field, and I’m sure that our fans will enjoy recalling at the history of The Terrible Towel.”

The new addition to the Heinz Field experience chronicles the origin and evolution of The Terrible Towel, as well as all of the different variations since its birth prior to the 1975 AFC Divisional Playoff game against the Baltimore Colts. Additionally, The Terrible Towel Wall has a display of the many unique locations where The Terrible Towel has been photographed with fans.

The Terrible Towel was created by the late Myron Cope, who served as the Steelers’ color analyst for 35 years on the team’s radio broadcasts. Certain proceeds from The Terrible Towel have been able to benefit the children and adults at the Allegheny Valley School, a charity that had special meaning to Cope.

“The Terrible Towel’s long history and the spirit it brings to the Steelers Nation is phenomenal,” said NHS Allegheny Valley School’s Chief Development Officer Dorothy Hunter Gordon. “Since 1996, a portion of the proceeds from the sale of all officially licensed products supports the more than 900 children and adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities that we serve throughout Pennsylvania. We are so grateful for the legacy that Myron Cope entrusted to us, and we are thrilled that The Terrible Towel is being honored at Heinz Field.”

The Terrible Towel Wall will be on display during a dedication ceremony on Saturday, April 28, at 11:30 a.m. at the Steelers’ Fan Blitz, presented by Xfinity. Former Steelers’ linebacker Andy Russell and representatives from the Allegheny Valley School will be on hand at the dedication.

To purchase any of The Terrible Towels, fans are encouraged to visit www.steelers.com/catalog/TerribleStuff. For more history on The Terrible Towel, visit www.steelers.com/history/terrible-towel.html.

Terrible Towel Wall Photo Gallery

The Terrible Towel was designed by EchoArtz and fabricated/installed by Contemporary Design.

This article originally appeared in The Pittsburgh Business Times
18 November 2011

Patty Tascarella
Senior Reporter
Pittsburgh Business Times

The Terrible Towel proved itself the fabric of Pittsburghers’ lives, handily defeating Eat’n Park to win the Pittsburgh Business Times’ 2011 Pittsburgh Brand Madness competition.

The towel was created by late Steelers’ broadcaster Myron Cope in 1975; for the past 15 years, more than $3 million in proceeds from its sale have benefited NHS Allegheny Valley School. The school serves people with intellectual and development disabilities, including Cope’s son.

Dorothy Hunter Gordon, NHS Allegheny Valley’s chief development officer, believes the Terrible Towel appeals to so many because it unifies a worldwide fan base and carries the legacy of Cope.

“Over the past 10 weeks, NHS Allegheny Valley School has celebrated the Terrible Towel’s inclusion in — and weekly success with — Pittsburgh Brand Madness,” Gordon said. “This has provided us with the opportunity to continue to share the message that the children and adults with special needs served by NHS AVS benefit from Myron Cope’s incredible legacy. Every time the Towel and its story are shared, it brings awareness about NHS AVS and the individuals whose lives are enriched by the Terrible Towel. We are so grateful for the community’s support of the Terrible Towel.”

Pittsburgh Brand Madness debuted Sept. 9, pitting 64 popular western Pennsylvania brands against each other in a single-elimination tournament of online reader polls. In the final round of voting, the Terrible Towel received 6,618 votes, or 58.1 percent, compared with Eat’n Park’s 4,779 votes. In previous rounds, the towel beat the Clark Bar, Zambelli Fireworks, Sarris Candies, Primanti Bros. Sandwich and Kennywood to get to the final round. The brand was so popular that when it faced off against Primanti Bros. Sandwich, Primanti Bros. conceded the round before the voting closed.

“We’re fans (of the Terrible Towel) and we couldn’t vote against them,” said Lila Preziosoof Partners Ink, the agency for Primanti Bros, at the time.

Eat’n Park also found something to smile about.

“There are certain things that only happen to you if you grow up in Pittsburgh and people hold onto them,” Kevin O’Connell, senior vice president of marketing, said. “We just feel good about being in the company of the Terrible Towel in going down to the end and being considered the top two brands in the City of Pittsburgh.”

Local marketing professionals agreed that the Terrible Towel is a strong brand for Pittsburgh.

Mullen Pittsburgh President and Executive Creative Director Brian Bronaugh called the Terrible Towel “a symbol that resonates” across the country.

John Gatesman, president of the Pittsburgh Advertising Federation and of South Side-based agency GatesmanMarmion+Dave, emphasized that the Towel is part of the Steelers’ brand.

“The Terrible Towel is indicative of the power the Steelers have in this market,” Gatesman said. “The best brands form an emotional connection, and the Terrible Towel obviously does that.”

Tony Bucci, chairman and CEO of MARC USA, Pittsburgh’s largest advertising agency, believes the Terrible Towel symbolizes Pittsburgh. “That it started as a concept in Pittsburgh and spread nationwide really validates the power that this kind of tool can have,” Bucci said.

“Talk about making yourself a part of the community: Everyone in the United States knows about the Terrible Towel. People who come here want to take one home as a souvenir. It is representative of the spirit of the Steelers, who have made themselves — very smart of them, by the way — representative of the Pittsburgh community. You talk about the emotional connection and the power: There is no stronger connection than holding a brand as a symbol of pride that you as an individual have, linked into the whole community.”

Gayle Marco, associate dean at the School of Business and professor of marketing atRobert Morris University, focused on the Terrible Towel’s accessibility and versatility.

“Just look where it’s gone,” she said. “Everyone has one. You can carry it, stick it in your pocket, hold it up, pack it easily in your luggage, display it, tuck it into your backpack and if you need a towel — well, no one uses their Terrible Towel that way. It has a good price point. It fits everyone. Even if you don’t have a ticket to the game, you have a Terrible Towel to wave. And that it gives back to charity is a bigger win-win.”

This article originally appeared in The New York TimesBy JOHN BRANCH
Published: January 29, 2009

There is one Steelers fan in Pittsburgh ambivalent about the team’s success.

“It’s actually been really hard for me, with the Steelers going to the Super Bowl,” the 38-year-old Elizabeth Cope said. “Because I have to see the Terrible Towels everywhere. It’s great. But it hurts.”

The towels are a swirling reminder of her father, Myron Cope, a longtime Pittsburgh broadcaster credited with creating the Terrible Towel in 1975. Before he died last February at age 79, Elizabeth Cope watched last year’s Super Bowl with him in his hospital room. She draped his coffin with a quilt that a fan had made out of Terrible Towels.

But the great part comes from what each of those towels does for people like Danny Cope, Myron’s son and Elizabeth’s older brother.

Myron Cope left behind something far more personal than a legacy of terrycloth, a battle flag for a city and its team. In 1996, he handed over the trademark to the Terrible Towel to the Allegheny Valley School. It is a network of campuses and group homes across Pennsylvania for people with severe intellectual and developmental disabilities. It receives almost all the profits from sales of the towels.

Danny Cope is one of the roughly 900 people the school serves. He has been a resident since 1982, when he was a teenager. He was diagnosed with severe mental retardation when he was 2. He is now 41.

“He’s never spoken,” Elizabeth Cope said. “Which is kind of funny, because Dad is known for his voice. It’s almost like the Terrible Towel is Danny’s silent voice.”

Hundreds of thousands of the towels — trademarked as “Myron Cope’s the Official Terrible Towel” — are sold every year, for about $7 each. Through the Steelers, who handlethe marketing of the towels, the school receives a check every month, usually for tens of thousands of dollars.

A Super Bowl changes everything. The company that produces the towels, McArthur Towel & Sports of Baraboo, Wis., produced 450,000 of them last week, after the Steelers won the A.F.C. championship. The company expects to duplicate that this week before Sunday’s game against the Arizona Cardinals, its president, Gregg McArthur, said.

A Steelers victory would most likely lead to orders of at least 500,000 more for a pair of Super Bowl versions of the Terrible Towel, one with the score against the Cardinals, the other declaring the Steelers as six-time Super Bowl champions.

Before this season, Allegheny Valley School had received more than $2.5 million from the towels since 1996, said its chief executive officer, Regis Champ. Roughly $1 million of that came during and immediately after the 2005 season, when the Steelers won Super Bowl XL. This season is likely to top that.

“It’s an incredible help for us,” Champ said. “We’re a nonprofit organization, and our primary funding is through Medicaid. While Medicaid is very good to people with disabilities, it is limited in what it will cover.”

Champ said that Myron Cope wanted the money to go not for construction projects, but for individual assistance for residents. Recent purchases include high-end specialized wheelchairs and sensory programs that allow severely disabled residents, including quadriplegics, to perform tasks such as turning on lights or music with a movement of their eyes.

The money has also been spent on adaptive communication devices, computers that give voice to those who cannot speak. Danny Cope has one.

The checks are usually spent as they are received.

“Our needs are daily,” Champ said.

Elizabeth Cope receives none of the proceeds from the Terrible Towel. Her father (whose wife, Mildred, died in 1994) transferred the trademark out of gratitude to the school.

“He came into my office, and he had a pile of papers,” Champ said. “He threw them down on my desk and said, ‘Regis, I’m giving you the Terrible Towel.’ I said, ‘Myron, I have about 10 of them. I’ll take another one, but ...

“He said, ‘No, I’m giving you the rights, and you’ll be able to get all the proceeds from the Terrible Towels.’ I was speechless. I knew that this would be the legacy that outlived Myron.”

The idea for the towels came out of a 1975 meeting Cope had at WTAE, the Steelers’ flagship radio station where he was the voice of the Steelers. Executives wanted a promotional gimmick, something to raise the excitement level during the playoffs.

Pittsburgh’s blue-collar fans were not the pompom types. But towels were far more utilitarian, useful for wiping the seats or protecting against the chill. Cope dubbed them Terrible Towels. On air, he encouraged fans to bring gold or black towels to the first playoff game against the Colts. It seemed too gimmicky, until about half the crowd began waving them at the start of the game. The Steelers won their second consecutive Super Bowl, surrounded by a sea of swirling towels.

Soon they were trademarked and mass-produced. They have been imitated by other franchises, but usually they are handed out for free, and they feel both unoriginal and uninspired by comparison. Even the N.F.L. could not contain itself; it is selling a white “Trophy Towel” to fans of both the Steelers and the Cardinals.

“When I see other towels in other stadiums, I know they probably have no personal story behind them,” Elizabeth Cope said. She said she has “millions” of them at home, and recently donated some framed originals to a Pittsburgh museum. There is one displayed at the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

Myron Cope was treasured in Pittsburgh for his enthusiasm, nasally voice and quirky exclamations such as “Yoi!” and “Double yoi!” But he knew he would be most remembered for the towel. And he made sure that it would always be more than just something to cheer the Steelers to victory.

When Danny Cope arrived at Allegheny Valley School, Myron Cope told Champ that doctors said he needed 24-hour supervision and would never be able to work.

Danny Cope, who is also autistic, now lives in a supervised group home with four others in a Pittsburgh suburb. He shops and goes to sports events. He has a paying job, packaging pretzels and snacks on an assembly line.

“Myron said that he was thankful for the life his son had,” Champ said.

The connective threads are strong. Many of the Terrible Towels go through a workshop in Chippewa Falls, Wis., similar to the one where Danny Cope works. About 80 employees with severe disabilities help fold, tag and box the shipments, McArthur said.

Come Sunday, when the Terrible Towels are swirling around Raymond James Stadium, they may also be swirling around Danny Cope. His friends like to watch the games, and Cope understands the Terrible Towels mean something exciting is happening.

“But as far as the legacy his father left?” Champ said. “No, I’m afraid Danny doesn’t understand that.”

'Terrible' influence yields good results

By Greg Garber

ESPN.com

January 29, 2009

Below are excerpts from an ESPN column written by Greg Garber after a visit to AVS prior to Super Bowl XLIII.

The Terrible Towel, the madly twirling, swirling instrument of their passion, is likely to dominate the game.

The living legacy of the Terrible Towel lies just west of Pittsburgh, in the small village of Coraopolis, PA, on the banks of the Ohio River. Drive over the brick streets of the town center, up a steep hill and, finally, around a sharp turn and you will discover Allegheny Valley School.

There are group houses scattered comfortably around what looks like a prep school campus, an achingly quiet, insular community that is home for the autistic and mentally disabled.

This is the story of how the disparate worlds of the Allegheny Valley School, where communication is often difficult, and the thunderous, full-throated ecstasy of Pittsburgh's fanatics are tied together by a common, 100 percent-cotton thread, the very fabric of Steelers Nation.

"This towel is very, very powerful," said Regis Champ, the president of the school. "The people of Pittsburgh understand what this towel does and they love the Steelers. It's a great combination for us."

The Steelers themselves are acutely aware of the power.

"I think every great nation has a flag," Pittsburgh safety Troy Polamalu said. "I think the Steelers Nation, it's obvious that that's our flag."

Added Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger, "When they wave that towel, it's just something that comes from in their soul and tries to reach out to us players."

It's not much to look at, really. It measures only 16 by 25 inches and weighs a little more than 3 ounces, but the Terrible Towel inspires an almost irrational loyalty.

When President Barack Obama visited Pittsburgh last April, he was presented with a Terrible Towel; eight months later they were seen among the sprawling crowd at his inauguration. When Kevin Cherilla, a native of Hampton, Pa., scaled Mount Everest in 2007, he left the Sherpas behind, but not the Terrible Towel. When he shares his slide show with local school children, the shot of the towel flapping at the summit invariably draws the most applause. The Terrible Towel has appeared on "Saturday Night Live," been waved at Vatican City, the Great Wall of China and has traveled with soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan.

After the Steelers advanced to the Super Bowl in 2009, Mike Fincke celebrated. Fincke, who grew up in Emsworth, a small suburb of Pittsburgh, is the commander of NASA's Expedition 18 to the International Space Station. He looked into the camera and, in the gravity-free atmosphere high above the Earth, he unfurled his Terrible Towel and laughed.

Over the top

Great things are sometimes born of desperation and the Terrible Towel is no exception.

The Steelers won their first Super Bowl at the end of the 1974 season and the following season they won 12 of 14 games and advanced to the playoffs. The brain trust at WTAE, the team's flagship radio station -- general manager Ted Atkins, sales manager Larry Garrett and broadcaster Myron Cope -- tried to come up with a gimmick that would ride the crest of the team's success.

"I said, 'I'm not a gimmick guy,'" Cope said in a December 2006 interview with ESPN. "One of them reminded me my contract was coming up for negotiation ... and I said, 'I'm a gimmick guy.'"

The first idea was a black mask in the likeness of head coach Chuck Noll embossed in gold letters with his credo, "Whatever it takes." When the local novelty manufacturer quoted a price of 50 cents per piece, the Terrible Towel quickly became Plan B.

"Larry Garrett said, 'How about a towel -- everybody has a towel,'" remembered Bill Hillgrove, who broadcasts Steelers games today on WDVE. "And Cope immediately said, 'We'll call it the Terrible Towel and it will wreak its powers terribly on the opposition.'

"He's the only guy who could have given that life."

Cope was a character. He had a vivid imagination and he hyped the Terrible Towel in the days leading up to the 1975 divisional championship game against the Baltimore Colts at Three Rivers Stadium. He raved about it on his radio shows. He talked about it as if it were alive. He tossed towels at the anchor and weatherman on the 11 o'clock news.

"The Terrible Towel is poised to strike," Cope said, over and over again. "Bring a yellow, gold or black towel to the playoff game, and if you don't have one, buy one, if you don't want to buy one, dye one."

On the day of the game, the Steelers placed two gold towels in each player's locker. They weren't impressed. Safety Mike Wagner was in the tunnel, awaiting the introduction of the defense, when his pregame concentration was interrupted.

"All of a sudden, a couple of fellows were trying, were sticking these yellow rags, these things in our hands and asking us to run on the field for introduction spinning them around," Wagner said. "We looked at the fellows and said, 'I don't think so. We're trying to play football here.'"

The Steelers of the 1970s were a no-nonsense group, cast in the stoic image of Noll and the Rooney family, which owned the team. But when the defense was introduced, an estimated 30,000 of 50,000 fans pulled out their towels and started waving them and cheering. The players were impressed, but hardly moved. But when linebacker Andy Russell returned a fumble 93 yards for a touchdown, Three Rivers became a sea of shimmering, living gold.

The following Sunday, in the AFC Championship Game against the Raiders, wide receiver Lynn Swann put the towel completely over the top when the offense was introduced at Three Rivers.

"You have to understand that we were doing things as a team and that things weren't premeditated," Swann said. "Back in the '70s there were no Sharpies in your sock and I wasn't hiding a phone in the goalpost. It was a cold day, a wet day and I didn't have a towel. I grabbed the Terrible Towel and put it in my hand, and it was almost a nervousness.

"There was no choreographed move here, and I was standing there looking up into the stands, and I had the towel in my hand, and so I just started waving the towel. And when they saw me just hitting it against my leg and they saw me waving it, then all the sudden they picked up their towels and started waving their towels."

Said Hillgrove, "When Swannie, who was one of the leaders of that team, came out with the towel, I think the others took their cues. He was the guy. When Swann said 'Let's do it,' you know, I think the fans just grabbed. And they're still grabbing."

Wagner, an old-school guy to the end, never, ever waved the towel. His punishment? He's autographed thousands of them for fans over the years. Try autographing a towel with a Sharpie -- it's not that easy.

"Myron Cope was the unique guy," Wagner said. "He always was referring to it, and he was able to do it in a way that the fans here in Pittsburgh said, 'Yes, yes, this is important to us. This is our role here. Our role is to own a Terrible Towel, to wave it at opportune times, to work its magic.'"

An enduring legacy

Cope was ecstatic over the success of the Terrible Towel, but uneasy with the perception that he was making a financial killing. He donated his portion of the proceeds to several area charities, but in 1996

"He came in, shut the door, came over and threw a sheaf of papers on my desk," remembered Champ, the school's former CEO. "[He] said 'These are from my attorney. You are now the proud owner of the Terrible Towel. The Terrible Towel, it's yours, take care of it, protect it.'

"I was speechless. I immediately understood the importance of this. This was a very powerful symbol for Pittsburgh, all of Pittsburgh and he was turning it over to us."

Cope, as it turns out, had been visiting the school for years, along with his wife, Mildred, and daughter Elizabeth. The charismatic broadcaster who made a living crafting words had a son, Danny, who has never spoken a word in his life. He is autistic and for 27 years the Allegheny Valley School has been his home.

"Myron's love of his children was unsurpassed and he was so excited that he came up with the idea to donate it to the school and leave a legacy for his son," Champ said. "Not only his son, but all his son's friends and all the people we care for here at the Allegheny Valley School."

Daniel Torisky founded the Autism Society of Pittsburgh, along with Cope, with the $400 in royalties the Terrible Towel earned Cope in its first year.

"I don't want to sound preachy," Torisky said, "but [the towel is] a symbol of personal excellence, both in caring for people who are the most vulnerable citizens as well as caring for a pal who is helping you achieve an objective, like the Super Bowl.

"In the center of Pittsburgh is the Terrible Towel, believe it. This was the final meaning of his life -- talk about a legacy, pal. I believe he was aware that this would live beyond him."

Cope died last February. With snow falling outside Town Hall, more than 350 friends paid him tribute. They roared and waved the Terrible Towels that bore his name.

Cope's son, Danny, inspired him to leave the proceeds from the Terrible Towel to the Allegheny Valley School. To date, the Allegheny Valley School has received 4 million from sales of the Terrible Towel and related merchandise.

Many major sports franchises have tried at some point to market a similar towel, but none of them has had the staying power of the Terrible Towel. Why? Exquisite timing, early in the curve of Pittsburgh's Super Bowl success. Luck. The belief of a frenzied fan base. The towel, like Dorothy's ruby slippers in "The Wizard of Oz," has no inherent magical power. It's what you bring to the towel. The Steelers' fans who wave it have an enduring optimism that something good will come of it.

And what of those who disrespect the towel? History is littered with casualties. In 2005, Cincinnati receiver T.J. Houshmandzadeh wiped his feet with a Terrible Towel after scoring a touchdown. The Bengals won the game, but the Steelers extracted their revenge, beating Cincinnati in the playoffs during their road to Super Bowl XL. After Ravens receiver Derrick Mason jumped on the towel before a September 2008 matchup, Baltimore lost all three of its games against Pittsburgh. For those looking for an omen, consider this: On Monday, Phoenix mayor Phil Gordon pretended to blow his nose in the Terrible Towel and then threw it to the ground.

The Steelers' record in the 43-plus years before the towel is 230-299-20 (.435), with only four playoff victories and one Super Bowl. In the 33-plus years after the Terrible Towel was conceived it's 335-222-1 (.601), with 24 playoff victories and four Super Bowls. Pittsburgh has a chance to win an NFL-record sixth here in Tampa.

"The stadium will be moving," Steelers nose tackle Casey Hampton said. "So many towels going around, you know, they're twirling in a circle motion. It's crazy."

Swann is enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He is an accomplished broadcaster. He was the Republican nominee for governor in Pennsylvania last year. But for some Steelers fans, he will be best remembered for bringing the Terrible Towel to life at Three Rivers Stadium.

"There is only one Terrible Towel for any team in the National Football League," Swann said. "Anyone who is waving any other color, means nothing. It's just one Terrible Towel."