Remembering a golf buddy and father

Some of my fondest memories of Stewart Park from over the last 40 years were of golfing with my father-in-law, Gene Parr.

Gene was a true high handicap golfer, who loved the game and the camaraderie, more than the seriousness and high competitive drama. I remember him getting hit in the chest from an errant drive from the group behind us while we were looking for his ball in the leaves to the left on No. 6, and the stunned look on his face.

He gave a quick expletive, and then said “Guess we had better move on.”

Then how his knees were shaking when my ball came down the flagstick at No. 7, off the hill, on a cold, rainy winter day, stopping nine inches from my first “almost hole in one.” He was more excited than I was, and we had another reason to celebrate and break out the coffee brandy, one of Gene’s favorites.

Most of all, I remember men’s league one evening when we were positioned to tee off from behind the pond on No. 1. Gene’s first drive went 30 yards, right into the pond. He went back to his bag for a new ball, re-teed, and promptly hit his second ball into the pond, followed by a new third ball.

When the third ball went into the pond, he went back to his bag, turned around and walked to the edge of the pond, where he promptly threw in the empty sleeve from which he had just taken three new balls. He declared, “You might as well have the box, you got all of my new balls!”

Everyone around cracked up. Gene laughed, relaxed, and then hit an older marked ball about 150 yards right up the middle, as he usually did.

I don’t golf at Stewart Park as I once did, as I want to cherish those special memories of Gene and Edythe Parr and our golf history.