Super Bowl XXXVII: Don't ever forget to savor the view

Don't ever forget to savor the view

A WWII veteran can see the desert, the ocean and, on Sunday, straight down from his house into the Super Bowl.

SAN DIEGO -- The view.

That's what Dale Taber always keeps fresh in his mind. What puts a smile on his face whenever he thinks about what's really important. What he never tires of.

He ran his red, weathered hand across the rusty chain-link fence in his back yard, a few feet from the ancient orange tree he and his wife planted when they bought this place in 1961. So much has changed beyond that fence.

He won't deny it. He has one of the most spectacular views in all of San Diego County. Up here on the ridge, about 500 feet above sea level, you can see until you can't see anymore. The desert to the east, the rolling hills of Mexico to the south. From his old tar roof, you can even see the Pacific Ocean.

And down in the valley beyond the fence, where there once was a cornfield, a dairy farm and a pack of singing coyotes, squats a concrete and steel oval: Qualcomm Stadium.

He can look right down inside the thing, like staring into the mouth of some giant sleeping monster. That grows.

They just finished the new condominiums on the right slope, and on the left they've already staked out where the streets will be.

"People. People everywhere you go now," Taber said as another helicopter flew overhead.

This part of San Diego was considered remote when Taber moved in. He had served on a Navy destroyer off North Africa, Italy and France in World War II and was stationed in San Diego after the war. When he retired he and his wife moved to the ridge and paid $18,500 for the little two-bedroom frame home. He was offered close to half a million for it not long ago.

"That's sure a lot of money," he said. "But I got a lot of memories here. And I just don't want to move."

But it's not easy keeping the place up. There are bald spots in his tiny yard, and most of the bushes out front need tending. "My wife is in a nursing home now," he said of Ann, 84, "so there hasn't been much time for the house."

He visits her every day at 2 p.m. She always waits for him. He's always there.

On Sunday, if there's time, he'll watch part of the Super Bowl. Funny how it works, he said. You get to learn the sounds.

"The roar will get here before the pictures," he said, meaning he knows when something important happens before TV audiences do because the roar of the crowd reaches him before the audio and visual signals reach viewers.

And there's something else. Qualcomm opened in 1967, "and they say that it's too old now," Taber, 88, said with a slight grin.

Taber's neighbors tell him there's a good bet the Chargers may leave the stadium for Los Angeles after the 2003 season and that the giant mouth will never roar and spit fire again.

"That's just a threat," Taber said. "They do that every time they need a new stadium. I'm a football fan, but not enough of one to want a new stadium. And where would they put it?"

He pointed down in the valley.

"Probably right here."

He said he'll get someone to help around the house. Maybe after the Super Bowl.

"It was always good living here," he said. "The cardinals still come around during their migration, and that's good.

"The view from up here has changed. It sure has. But one thing I never did was take it for granted.

"It's still a great view. Just different things to look at."