My parents, George and Connie, are bit of a shall we say, unusual story.
George wasn’t a child of the depression, he was already an adult. Born in 1904, Theodore Roosevelt was to be reelected that fall after the assassination of William McKinley and would go on to to win 32 states with over 7 million votes.
By comparison Barack Obama won 28 states and just shy of 70 million popular votes..it was a different time.
George was a Golf Pro…check that, he was an Old Pro.
Connie had an interesting childhood to say the least…which over a Grey Goose I would be more than happy to take you through…for the sake of time and privacy though suffice it to say she grew up in trying circumstances to become one of the people in life you just gravitate to, a person you might want to be like…she lacked the ability to judge people by their appearance, religion, or any other differentiation we force on each other…a beach girl with all the moves…she was 22 years younger than George.
I tell you all this for a reason…it’s Masters Report Part 2.
We left home at the reasonable hour of 4:00 PM Wednesday, making our way to Aiken, SC.
The next day Michael, 17, David, 14, and Audrey, timeless, would experience their first Masters, As I may have mentioned in a previous post, my old friend Fred Warren put it best. “I only want to go if I can take someone for the first time.”
Brilliant, that described our adventure.
We took Old Hwy 78 through the country to Aiken. The Dogwoods, Plums, and Forsythia were in all their glory…stop here for a little tip. When you can stay off the interstate in the South in the Spring, do it…it’s more than worth the hour you lose.
We had dinner in downtown Aiken. It was just a pleasant coincidence that 62 years earlier to the day, George and Connie were married a block from where we had Jalapeño Poppers and Patty Melts…they were married during The Masters on April 7, 1948…Bobby Locke, the South African golfer, was the Best Man. That same year he would win The Chicago Victory Open by 16 and in the next 10 years three British Opens…the boy could golf his ball.
Never really heard the whole story but who cares? Just try to imagine the suits everyone wore.
Then not so early to bed thanks to friends Meg, Laura, Joe, and Patty.
Next day broke bright and warm as it should be in Jaw-Ja in April. We made our way to the course at the un-Godly hour of 10. I was teaching my boys that it’s not quantity at The Big One but quality…they had no trouble staying in bed.
The rest of our magic day:
10:00 – 11:30 Amen Corner in the bleachers behind 12 tee, several pre-lunch pimento cheese sandwiches consumed
11:45-12:30- a tour of the Press building by friend Geoff Russell. Several celebrity spottings but no more important than the young and intrepid reporter from The Fort Worth Press, Dan Jenkins. He was enjoying a late morning Marlboro when I approached him. All I wanted was for Mike and Dave to remember they met him at The Masters (his 53rd) when they were young. He was gracious and friendly, mission accomplished and dead solid perfect.
12:30-3:00- more food, a little sweet tea, and some wandering around the course by the boys. Audrey and I had worn ourselves out from the hills so we sat under the big tree. His Tigerness teed off at 1:47, a sight to see and a sound to hear…all was forgiven by the reaction of the patrons that day. During their travels the boys witnessed Phil’s first eagle of the week at 13 … they delivered a stellar report of the event.
A few hundred bucks in the concession “tent” and out of there… home fishing on the dock at 7:20…martini at my right hand.
For the first time ever we all watched the broadcast together all day Sunday… coincidence?
What a day.