If architect Thomas Hodne could have had his way, the Minnesota Twins never would have played in the Metrodome.

In the 1970s, he designed an alternate baseball stadium with a tent-like cover, 65,000 seats — and room for a hockey arena, swimming pool, tennis courts and more. "That damn Dome" is how he described the winning bid.

But that didn't keep Hodne, a nationally known designer, from becoming a fixture at the Dome, attending nearly every home game for decades.

Hodne, who called baseball his addiction, died Sept. 14 at age 87.

"When you went to a game with Dad, you were the first person there and the last person to leave," said daughter Katrina Carlson, the seventh of his nine children. He was also hard to miss, with his bushy white beard in a prime seat across from the Twins dugout. "Kirby Puckett used to call him Santa Claus."

Hodne left a distinctive mark in his day job as well, as an award-winning architect and one-time professor at the University of Minnesota. Among other things, he designed the Minneapolis American Indian Center and became a champion for the preservation of historic buildings.

"He was extremely creative, really a visionary," said Christina Rothstein, another daughter.

Hodne, who was born in Minneapolis, earned his architecture degree at the University of Minnesota and started his own firm, which became Hodne-Stageberg, in Dinkytown. For his master's degree at MIT in 1956, he wrote a dissertation proposing the revitalization of the Uptown neighborhood — complete with an undulating pedestrian mall, plazas and "a pedestrian overpass to the shores of Lake Calhoun." "It's meant to be both serious and imaginative," he wrote.

One of his best-known projects was a 1963 design for a huge urban-renewal project, 1199 Plaza in East Harlem, in Upper Manhattan. His design, for an eight-square-block housing project, won first place in a national competition and a $10,000 prize. The project took 11 years to build, says Rothstein, but "it was huge and it's still there."

Closer to home, Hodne once paid $1 for a 100-year-old home designed by architect Edward Stebbins to save it from the wrecking ball, and moved it to an empty lot to serve as his office. In a 1983 essay, he bemoaned the way cities were destroying their architectural heritage to make way for "office towers and fast-food restaurants."

His daughters say that family outings were always an education. "Whenever you went somewhere with Dad, he had his camera," said Carlson. "Most kids go to parades and festivals. We went to see buildings and art museums."

At restaurants, it wasn't unusual for Hodne to start drawing designs on a napkin. "He lived, he breathed architecture," said Rothstein.

Hodne later talked publicly about his struggle with alcohol, and stopped drinking in his 40s. "I quit alcohol in 1975, and I took up baseball," he said in a 2006 interview. When the Dome opened in 1982, he bought season tickets and once bragged that he missed only 18 home games in more than 20 years.

"I hate this damn Dome," he told the Star Tribune in 2003, "but this is my neighborhood. This is my 'Cheers' bar where everyone knows my name."

Hodne, who was married three times, even celebrated his third wedding outside the Dome, his daughters said. Suffering from Alzheimer's, he attended his last game just weeks ago. "He just brightened up," Rothstein said, and gripped the railing when the game was over. "He didn't want to let go." At his funeral Sept. 17, the last song was "Take Me Out to the Ball Game."

In addition to Rothstein and Carlson, he is survived by sons Tom, Kevin, Mark, Hans, Soren and Johann, and daughter Joan Mishek; 14 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren.