This past weekend, the video game industry joined the ranks of the Paper Industry International Hall of Fame and the International Snowmobile Hall of Fame in seemingly insignificant celebrations of excellence in a specialized field.
The International Video Game Hall of Fame opened its pseudo-doors in Ottumwa, Iowa, as part of the annual Big Bang Festival, which celebrates the role video games have had in shaping popular culture.
The location of the gamers’ Jerusalem might appear obscure, but there is a deeper history than most realize. This story begins in the early 1980s, long before the days of the Internet, back when most personal PCs were playing Karateka off 5.25-inch floppy disks. These were the golden days of video games with quarter arcades eating away the hard-earned allowances and squandered hours of many a youth. And a new form of national and international competition was subsequently born.
It was in Ottumwa that the Twin Galaxies arcade became the destination for national tournaments and competitions, so much so the town soon became the self-proclaimed Video Game Capital of the World. This declaration was not hubris, but an attempt to demonstrate both the importance and permanence of video games on the national stage. This might have been the golden age of arcade gaming, but this was also a time when municipalities across the United States were banning video game playing among minors. Ottumwa’s declaration was a bold flag thrust in the ground of a resistant public.
Over the years, the Twin Galaxies Arcade became a key place for certifying global video game scores and records. Of course, with the Internet, such things seem archaically obsolete, but that doesn’t diminish the impact this small town had on the video game industry. And now Ottumwa looks to continue its nurturing role in the evolution of video games by preserving the names, figures, and technologies that began as a simple ripple and have since become a wave of sociological change.
The first video game inducted as part of the festivities this weekend was Pac-Man, the most recognizable video game character in history (sorry, Mario; you’re a close second). Other inductees included the creator of Donkey Kong and Super Mario Bros., a score of arcade gaming champions and the founder of Namco, the company behind Pac-Man, Dig Dug and Galaga.
Sadly, there is no physical structure for the hall of fame. I would argue that if the International Cuemakers Association doesn’t need a hall for their most famed craftsmen, then neither does the video game industry. There are hopes that a Smithsonian-style museum will be built in the near future to house the myriad of memorabilia, archives and relics of technology the town has amassed and continues to collect. The goal of this facility will be to collect and house the more than 100,000 coin-operated video games produced in the last quarter-century. As more and more of the relics from the birth of video games break down and disappear, preservation is key in safeguarding the heritage and history of video games.
Ultimately, it doesn’t matter where the hall of fame is found. It doesn’t matter that organizers don’t have a building. It doesn’t even matter that many consider video arcades to be extinct. What matters is that video games, since their infancy in coin-chomping arcades, have been woven into and permeated many facets of international culture. There needs to be a place for their impact to be recognized and preserved. If that hallowed home happens to be in Ottumwa, then so be it.
When he’s not teaching junior high, St. Albert Catholic High alumnus Derek Mitchell spends his free time connected to a video game console.
