All Dressed Up

A boy, a dinner jacket and a new chapter in life

By Bill Fields

Late in the afternoon on Saturday, Sept. 3, 1966, I had a small part in a wonderful event. A very small part.

I was, like the mums, gladioli and snapdragons in the sanctuary of the First Baptist Church, a decorative touch.

When you’re getting married and have a 7-year-old brother — as was the case with my sister Dianne — you make him a junior usher, a role as vital as being a lifeguard in a parking lot. The groom, Bob, had a much younger sibling (named Bill, too), who also was enlisted for this non-essential duty. So the two of us, in dinner jackets like the rest of the males in the wedding party, gave no one a program and helped no one to his seat.

It was the best standing-around I’ve ever done.

The occasion had been a couple of years in the making, since Dianne and Bob met while students at Wake Forest College. She was a Spanish major, and he was studying biochemistry, which would underpin his esteemed career as a scientist-professor. They are both smart as a whip, with kind hearts, his patience balancing her energy.

It is difficult for me to remember Dianne without Bob because I was so young when they began dating. During their courtship, when Bob came to visit in Southern Pines, I’m sure I occasionally was 4 feet and 60 pounds of pain-in-the-neck when I sneaked up with a water pistol or begged them to come outside and shoot baskets. Any ambivalence about Bob becoming part of the family ended when he gave me my first Matchbox car, a red Ferrari, that made the cheap, tiny metal cars I bought at Pope’s dime store look like true clunkers.

The details from the Summer of the Wedding are hazy, but I remember lots of activity and conversation. The cake was made by Mrs. Bristow, whose house was out on the May Street extension north of town. I knew about “taffy” but wondered what was this “taffeta” that the dresses for the maid of honor (my other sister, Sadie) and the bridesmaids were made of. They were basically Carolina Blue, so whatever the material, that made me happy.

When the big weekend arrived, our house was full of cousins and anticipation. Months earlier the Fields clan had met the Broyles clan in Winston-Salem, a summit of familiarization and approval. The groom’s parents, who lived in West Virginia, put on the rehearsal dinner the eve of the wedding in a private room at Howard Johnson’s in Aberdeen, where the opportunity to have a hamburger and fries chased with an orange Fanta was about all for which a second-grader could hope.

My sister has recalled a sweet moment when she and my father were about to walk down the aisle, toward the altar and a new chapter in her life, and given the flood of emotions wondered if they both could make it. Arm in arm, they did, of course. It was a beautiful ceremony in that small, simple structure on the corner of New York and Ashe that sadly was torn down years ago when the church moved into a larger facility. The vows were followed by cake and punch in the basement fellowship hall that was the junior ushers’ favorite part of the day, followed closely by the throwing of the rice.

Dianne and Bob honeymooned at Fontana Village in western North Carolina. I have a remnant of their trip within arm’s reach on my desk as I type this — the painted stone head of a souvenir tomahawk they brought back for me. They also gifted me a Fontana Dam T-shirt with a cartoon of a bear on the front. I’m wearing it in one of our family’s favorite pictures, all of us posing on a couch suppressing a mighty group giggle.

No marriage is all laughs, but Dianne and Bob have had lots of them in five decades together, a union that has produced two children and two grandchildren, a union that is an example of living well.

It was an honor to be there at the starting line.  PS

Southern Pines native Bill Fields, who writes about golf and other things, moved north 30 years ago but hasn’t lost his accent.

September Books

By Kimberly Daniels Taws

A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles.

This is an exceptional book, likely to be read over centuries, not just decades. The author of Rules of Civility returns with his sophomore novel about Count Alexander Rostov, sentenced in 1922 by a Bolshevik tribunal to spend the rest of his life in the posh Metropol Hotel, once a grand destination for dignitaries. While the circumstances of Russia change around the hotel, the count maintains his elegance through emotional trials, friendships and adventures that are a pure pleasure to read.

Darktown, by Thomas Mullen.

Follow two of Atlanta’s first black police officers as they investigate the death of a young black woman last seen in the company of a white man. Feel and experience the prejudice and hostility they face from their peers, and ride with the one officer who dared to reach across racial barriers for answers and justice.

The Orphan Mother, by Robert Hicks.

The New York Times best-selling author of The Widow of the South returns with another Southern epic story about Mariah Reddick, the former slave to Carrie McGavock who becomes a midwife in Franklin, Tennessee, following the Civil War. After her politically minded and ambitious grown son is murdered, Mariah seeks the truth and is forced to confront her own past. 

A House by the Sea, by Bunny Williams.

Designer Bunny Williams provides a peek into her Caribbean retreat in this wonderful coffee table book. The stunning photographs are punctuated with thoughtful essays by friends on the art of entertaining, gardens and much more. 

Bacon, by Fred Thompson.

The author of Fred Thompson’s Southern Sides joins the “Savor the South” cookbook series with a book on bacon that tracks the humble history and our region’s culinary history. The book includes 56 recipes and wonderful information about this popular treat.

Best. State. Ever. A Florida Man Defends His Homeland, by Dave Barry.

The talented Dave Berry applies his trademark humor to a celebration — and high-spirited defense — of the state he calls home, Florida. From Ponce de Leon to modern weirdness, Barry unmasks, as only he can, what makes Florida great. 

Blood at the Root: A Racial Cleansing in America, by Patrick Phillips.

Bill Maher writes that Blood at the Root is able to avoid the self-flagellation usually found in similar accounts and, while ugly things in our past history are certainly unpleasant to read about, stirring the dry bones reminds the living how far they have come and how far they have to go.

Enough Said: What’s Gone Wrong with the Language of Politics? by Mark Thompson.

After serving as a CEO of a major TV corporation, director-general of the BBC and now CEO of The New York Times, Thompson continues his career in writing with a deeply thought out examination of the distortion of the public language and new trends in public engagement. 

In Such Good Company: Eleven Years of Laughter, Mayhem, and Fun in the Sandbox, by Carol Burnett.

Learn about “The Carol Burnett Show” firsthand as Burnett reveals the show’s truths, from its inception to the many hilarious antics of her co-stars and guests, including Lucille Ball, Bing Crosby, Rita Hayworth and Steve Martin. A great read and a reminder that the great comedic talent still has her touch. 

Ingredient: Unveiling the Essential Elements of Food, by Ali Bouzari.

This well-done book is full of pictures and graphs that impart cooking information not widely known. The core of the book is about food in its elemental form. Divided into sections like “Lipids,” “Water” and “Proteins,” this book uses graphs and pictures to explain a seemingly complicated subject in very digestible terms.

Learn to Cook 25 Southern Classics 3 Ways: Traditional, Contemporary, International, by Jennifer Brule.

Brule brings her well-honed recipe testing skills and open, friendly writing to a Southern cookbook that adds modern twists to traditional recipes. 

Rancher, Farmer, Fisherman: Conservation Heroes of the American Heartland, by Mariam Horn.

This story looks at five very different professionals tied to the environmental movement. The stories from a Montana rancher, Kansas farmer, Mississippi riverman, Louisiana shrimper and Gulf fisherman all reveal the challenges and powerful myths about American environmental values. 

Ten Restaurants That Changed America, by Paul Freedman.

Photographs, images and original menus are not the only parts of this book that bring 10 restaurants and three centuries in America together. The stories of these restaurants provide a social and cultural history revealing ethnicity, class, immigration and assimilation through the shared experiences of food and dining. 

The Tide: The Science and Stories Behind the Greatest Force on Earth, by Hugh Aldersey-Williams.

Bringing together folklore, scientific thinking and literature, science writer Aldersey-Williams examines the tides and how we have sought to understand and manage them for centuries. 

CHILDREN’S BOOKS

By Angie Tally

Dory Fantasmagory: Dory Dory Black Sheep, by Abby Hanlon.

With best buddies, imaginary friends, a loving mother, a pet sheep from outer space and an imaginary evil nemesis, Dory Dory Black Sheep, the third installment in the Dory Fantasmagory series, really has it all. This is my favorite new chapter book series to recommend to young readers and is perfect for kids who love hearing the Ramona Quimby stories and want something similar to read on their own. Author Abby Hanlon will be at The Country Bookshop at 4 p.m. on Wednesday, Sept 21. Young readers are invited to bring their invisible friends or favorite stuffed farm animals for an afternoon of fun. (Ages 6-10)

Missy Piggle-Wiggle and the Whatever Cure, by Ann M. Martin and Annie Parnell. Missy Piggle-Wiggle arrived in Little Spring Valley on a warm spring morning, moved into the upside-down house owned by her great aunt Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, was greeted by Wag the dog, Lightfoot the cat, Penelope the talking parrot and Lester the pig, and quickly took up her family responsibility by helping the neighbors, the Free-for-alls, with their (sometimes) lovely children. Written by the delightful Ann M. Martin and Annie Parnell, the great-granddaughter of Betty MacDonald, the author of the original Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle Books, Missy Piggle-Wiggle will delight a new generation of young readers. (Ages 8-12)

Framed, by James Ponti. After most 12-year-olds finish their homework, they play Minecraft or go to soccer practice, but 12-year-old Florian Bates spends his time in a very unusual way: He goes to work for the FBI. Using TOAST, a system of his own devising that stands for Theory Of All Small Things, Florian and his neighbor Margaret help the FBI uncover a foreign government spy ring, assist in the recovery of millions of dollars of stolen paintings, and still makes it home in time for curfew. Readers who love Stuart Gibbs’ Belly Up, E.L. Konigsburg’s Mixed Up Files or Elise Broach’s Masterpiece will love this first in what promises to be a delightful fun mystery series. (Ages 9-12)  PS

Updike Redux

A collection of 186 stories and a new biography are a chance to reexamine a remarkable literary life

By Stephen E. Smith

In his biography Updike, Adam Begley quotes from a letter John Updike wrote to his mother while he was a student at Harvard: “We need a writer who desires both to be great and to be popular, an author who can see America as clearly as Sinclair Lewis, but, unlike Lewis, is willing to take it to his bosom.”

Updike was describing the writer he’d become. For more than 50 years his novels, essays, poems and short stories filled America’s bookshelves, and the upper middle class, the culturati from which he drew his characters and themes, received each new volume with enthusiasm.

When Updike died of lung cancer in 2009 (addiction trumped intellect), we were left with 30 novels, 15 short story collections and umpteen books of poetry and assorted prose to appreciate anew. With the publication of Library of America’s quality two-volume edition (a boxed set) and Begley’s biography, Updike, readers have an opportunity to read or reread 186 stories (the Bech and Maples stories are published in separate volumes) arranged in order of publication. Astute readers can correlate the stories with Begley’s exposition of Updike’s richly complex life as an observer and participant in the subculture about which he wrote with extravagance and often shocking excess. Best remembered for his “Rabbit” novels, it’s Updike’s short stories, most of which were published in The New Yorker, that most closely parallel the life he lived.

Begley is quick to point out that few American fiction writers were more autobiographical than Updike — so obsessively so as to raise questions about Updike’s capacity for rational detachment. Readers unfamiliar with his short fiction are forewarned that his dominant theme is betrayal and its resultant complexities. His characters are white, usually Protestant members of the American upper middle class living in southeastern Pennsylvania or New England. His subject is adultery. The operative emotion is guilt, as explained in his 1977 story “Guilt-Gems”: “A guilt-gem is a piece of the world that has volunteered for compression. Those souls around us, living our lives with us, are gaseous clouds of being awaiting a condensation and preservation — faces, lights that glimmer out, somehow not seized, saved in the gesture and remorse.”

Updike is the master of The New Yorker short story, carefully wrought prose narratives with lengthy passages of description and meticulously rendered characters who find themselves unhappy in a world of affluence that encourages the guilty pleasures of adultery. So pervasive is this mindset that in “The Women Who Got Away” the narrator is touched with exquisite regret for potential affairs he failed to consummate: “There were women you failed ever to sleep with; these, in retrospect, have a perverse vividness, perhaps because the contacts, in the slithering ball of snakes, were so few that they have stayed distinct.”    

For all of his literary sophistication, Updike is the most parochial of writers. With a few possible exceptions — most especially his story “Varieties of Religious Experience” (a real clunker) — he wisely sticks to what he knows. Southern readers won’t discover tobacco worms, hogs and banjo-picking rednecks in his fiction (although there’s an occasional working-class hero), and his characters are, after the similitude of their re-embodiment in story after story, possessed of a mildly annoying self-indulgence and an irritating dissatisfaction with bourgeois abundance.

Moreover, the focus on the purely carnal is likely to wear thin when the stories are read without interruption. Even the most voyeuristic of readers are likely to experience a vague unease. Certainly sex has much to do with our lives, but at what point is the committed imagination overwhelmed by irrational obsession? Guilt experienced vicariously may have a temporary exhilarating effect on the reader, but it’s accompanied by a sense of sorrow at having benefited emotionally at the expense of others. This becomes especially apparent when Begley reveals Updike’s serial adultery, a philandering so obsessive that Updike was immensely proud of having made love to three women in one day, all the while living a life in which he remained a civic luminary and held responsible stations in various Protestant churches.

In the final analysis, however, Updike is more than a horndog with a thesaurus. In conveying memorable life moments, true and full of empathy, and producing examples of sense experience used to good effect, he is unsurpassed. The poignant, knifing nuances of life permeate his fiction, as with this typical passage from a pedantically sexual visit to a dental hygienist in “Tristan and Iseult”: “Sometimes his roving eyes flicked into her own, then leaped away, overwhelmed by their glory, their — as the deconstructionists say — presence. His glance didn’t dare linger even long enough to register the color of these eyes; he gathered only the spiritual, starlike afterimage of their living gel, simultaneously crystalline and watery, behind the double barrier of her glasses and safety goggles, above the shield-shaped paper mask hiding her mouth, her chin, her nostrils. So much of her was enwrapped, protected. Only her essentials were allowed to emerge, like a barnacle’s feathery appendages, her touch and her steadfast, humorless gaze.” Updike is tirelessly observant, and any careful reader of his fiction is bound to wonder if there’s an emotion, gesture or technical detail that’s gone unexplored.

Updike’s early stories are a study in the evolution of the great writer he would become, and the later stories are often burdened with excess detail and Jamesian syntactical constructs that leave the reader yearning for a misplaced comma or a dangling modifier. The less ambitious middle stories — most notably those included in the collections “Museums and Women” and “Trust Me” — are varied in subject matter  and more experimental in structure and execution. “The Orphaned Swimming Pool,” “Invention of the Horse Collar,” “Poker Night,” “Under the Microscope,” “Museums and Women,” “During the Jurassic,” “The Baluchitherium,” “The Slump” and “Still of Some Use” are departures from Updike’s formulaic adultery fiction. They’re overlooked gems that avoid the quirky, distracting The New Yorker ending and are more immediately appreciated.

Updike became the writer he described in that long ago letter to his mother. A large segment of the American public took him to their bosom, convinced that his vision of America was correct — or at least sufficiently believable. Whether his literary reputation will eclipse that of Sinclair Lewis’, well, that remains to be seen.  PS

Stephen E. Smith is a retired professor and the author of seven books of poetry and prose. He’s the recipient of the Poetry Northwest Young Poet’s Prize, the Zoe Kincaid Brockman Prize for poetry, and four North Carolina Press awards.

Docs Making House Calls

By Cos Barnes

My grandmother was always visited at home by her physician. I suppose doctors called on the elderly in their homes for the patient’s convenience.

One frosty cold morning when no traffic was stirring because of snow, we called a neighboring physician because my mother was wretchedly ill with a headache. It did not matter that he was an orthopedic surgeon, or a bone doctor, as many called them in those days. He gave her a shot and she never had another headache. This is a true story.

Now there are more than 75 clinicians who provide on-site, state-of-the-art medical care to residents in senior living communities, as well as patients in private homes. Their staff includes specialists in geriatrics, internal and family medicine, neurology, infectious disease, pulmonary medicine, palliative care, podiatry and ophthalmology.

DMHC, as they label themselves, Doctors Making House Calls, serve as the primary care provider as well as urgent care clinician for all DMHC patients. Their clinicians are available 24/7 for urgent care telephone consultation. They see patients seven days a week.

They accept and directly bill Medicare and Medicaid as well as all supplemental insurance care plans.

Gone are the days of appointments that are delayed, canceled or terribly detained, the days when schoolchildren had to miss class days because of appointments.

These doctors like seeing patients in their home setting with familiar surroundings.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.  PS

Cos Barnes is a longtime contributor to PineStraw magazine. She can be contacted at cosbarnes@nc.rr.com.

PinePitch

Steal the Show

First Friday Southern Pines presents The Ballroom Thieves on Friday, Sept.2, from 5–8:30 p.m. Trio Martin Earley, Calin Peters and Devin Mauch create a captivating mélange of acoustic styles, blending folk conventions with modern hymnals, Delta blues grit with rich harmonies, and exploring the basic constructions of pop music while simultaneously rejecting its restrictions. Rain or shine, First Friday concerts are free and open to the public. Food and beverages available for purchase. The Preservation Green (grassy lot) adjacent to the Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad St. , Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8501 or firstfridaysouthernpines.com.

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Old Cars, New Tricks

On Saturday, Sept. 17, dozens of old cars will shine like new pennies on the campus of Sandhills Community College, 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. The car show, organized by the Sandhills Chapter of the Antique Automobile Club of America (AACA) and hosted by the SCC Automotive Technologies program, features live music by the Sandhills Community College Jazz Band, guided tours of the renowned Horticultural Gardens, on-site food, 50/50 and silent auctions, and awards presented by Miss Moore County. Car entry registration prior to Sept. 13 is $15 (includes food voucher and special door prizes). Registration on day of show is $20. Show is free and open to the public. Sirotek Hall, Sandhills Community College, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Info: www.ncregionaaca.com/sandhills.

Coneheads

This year, celebrate the Ice Cream Parlor’s 40th anniversary by registering for a chance to win free ice cream for life. Repeat: Free ice cream for life. Drop in for lunch or a cone before Sunday, Sept. 25, when one lucky participant will have reason to flash their sweet-toothed grin. Ice Cream Parlor, 176 NW Broad Street, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7273.

Hicks in Town

Robert Hicks, New York Times best—selling author of The Widow of the South and A Separate Country, will be at The Country Bookshop on Monday, September 26, at 5 p.m. Hicks’ new novel, The Orphan Mother, tells the story of midwife and former slave Mariah Reddick, who, in the wake of tragedy, embarks on an epic quest for justice. Free and open to the public. The Country Bookshop, 140 NW Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3211.

Gone Vogue

The United Way of Moore County will host a fashion extravaganza on Thursday, Oct. 6, at 6 p.m. Featured merchants include Apricot Lane, Cottage of Hope, Eloise & Co., Eve Avery, Morgan Miller, and Patricia. Eat, drink and be dazzled. Tickets: $40. Proceeds benefit United Way of Moore County partner agencies. Grand Hall at Penick Village, 500 E. Rhode Island Ave., Southern Pines Info: (910) 692-2413 or unitedwaymoore.com.

Crème de la Crème

You won’t want to miss Judson Theatre Company’s production of “Twelve Angry Men,” the electrifying Reginald Rose classic about a jury forced to decide one boy’s fate. Emmy-winning Broadway and TV star John Wesley Shipp (“The Flash,” “Dawson’s Creek,” “As the World Turns,” “Guiding Light”) headlines a cast from New York and North Carolina, which includes Broadway actor Mike Boland and local pros Rick McDermott, Chris Thomas (from Star 102.5), and Adam W. Faw.  Show runs Thursday, Sept. 22, at 7 p.m., Friday, Sept. 23, at 8 p.m., Saturday, Sept. 24, at 2 and 8 p.m., and Sunday, Sept. 25, at 3 p.m. Tickets: $38 (advance); $43 (day of show); $20 (students, military, SCC faculty and staff). Owens Auditorium, Sandhills Community College. Tickets/Info: (800) 514-3849 or judsontheatre.com.

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The Hot Spot

Best thing about a Rooster’s Wife show at Poplar Knight Spot? There isn’t a bad seat in the house. You’ll just want to make sure you snag one. Here’s what’s hot at the Spot this month:

Sept. 2 – Classical/nuevo flamenco guitarist Ed Stephenson. One word: virtuoso. Tickets: $15. Listen: edwardstephenson.com.

Sept. 11 – Scythian, Celtic rock band with strains of Gypsy and klezmer. Sure to make the walls and floor shake. Tickets: $20 (advance); $25. Listen: www.scythianmusic.com

Sept. 16   Award-winning singer/songwriter Liz Longley breathes soul into country pop. Tickets: $15. Listen: www.lizlongley.com.

Sept. 18  – Will Overman Band delivers Southern fried rock with Americana fixin’s.  Locust Honey String Band opens. Tickets: $15 (advance); $20. Listen: willovermanband.com.

Sept. 22  – Guy Davis Trio spells American Blues. Tickets: $20 (advance); $25. Listen: guydavis.com.

Sept. 29  – Frank Solivan & Dirty Kitchen are a bluegrass festival attraction. Tickets: 20 (advance); $25. Listen: dirtykitchenband.com.

Doors open at 6 p.m. All shows start at 6:46 p.m. The Rooster’s Wife, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org.

Trikes Are for Kids

The Tour de Trike makes a kid out of everyone. On Thursday, Sept. 8, at 5:30 p.m., come watch your neighbors cruise down West New Hampshire Avenue in a tricycle race to benefit area nonprofits. Or, better yet, pedal alongside them. If you’re lucky, the giant pink gorilla will catch a ride on the back of somebody else’s bike. Entry: $100 donation. Costumes encouraged. Info: United Way of Moore County, (910) 692-2413.

The Real Dealers

Serious collectors already know what’s happening in Cameron on Saturday, Oct.1. The Annual Fall Antiques Street Fair, of course. Rain or shine, 250 dealers will display their antiques and collectibles in the shops and streets along the Historic District on Carthage Street from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. The old smells are free. Info: (910) 245-7001, (910) 245-3020, or www.antiquesofcameron.com.

Gone to Temple

Director/cGavan Pamer is traveling from Pittsburgh, to direct Temple Theatre’s production of “Anything Goes,” the classic Cole Porter musical about a st  ble cast features Broadway veteran Peggy Taphorn, 2013 Miss North Carolina, Hailey Best, and regional stars Lynda Clark and Sean Powell. Pamer and Taphorn, now in her ninth season at the helm of the Temple, toured nationally with the show and are delighted to be reunited. Says Taphorn, “Our audiences have come to expect lavish musical extravaganzas. They won’t be disappointed.” Show times for are Thursdays at 2 p.m., Fridays at 2 and 8 p.m., Saturdays at 8 p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m. Tickets: $14–25. Temple Theatre, 120 Carthage St., Sanford. Box office: (919) 774-4155. Info: templeshows.com.

Walkin’ Man

By Jim Dodson

After two years of being sidelined from a severe injury, I recently underwent knee surgery and began walking to work in the mornings again and with our dogs in the evenings.

Frankly I’d forgotten how good it feels — how walking through a busy world at a neighborly pace provides useful time to think and helps one notice important small things right in front of your nose. 

“I tell people that I walk for sanity, not vanity,” says my friend Dennis Quaintance, the Greensboro hotelier who has been a dedicated daily walker in historic Green Hill Cemetery for years. “A walk helps me make sense of the world.”

The health benefits of a daily walk are also amply documented, and I’ve even managed to drop a dozen pounds since I resumed my regular walks three or four weeks ago. Soon I hope to be up to walking a complete golf course again, just in time for my wife and me to slip away to Scotland later this month.

In some ways my involuntary removal from golf prompted a true awakening. I probably took the ability to walk for granted and am both relieved and resolved to be back cruising the world on two feet.

Ditto my new friend and fellow golfer Kevin Reinert.

We met last Father’s Day at a family golf event I host annually for the Pinehurst Resort, a gathering of like-minded souls created around a surprise best-selling book of mine called Final Rounds, a story about taking my father back to England and Scotland, where he learned to play golf during the Second World War.

On the first night of the event I typically welcome 125 or so folks from around the country and give a little talk aimed at setting a lighthearted tone for golf and fellowship.

After this year’s opening dinner, a fit-looking fellow about my age came up to say hello with his wife, Jean.

“This is my first year here,” explained Reinert, offering me his hand.  “I just want to say thank you for saving my life.”

I smiled, waiting for the punch line.

But there wasn’t one.

“No, seriously,” he said, “your book on Ben Hogan inspired me to get up and teach myself to walk again.”

And with that, he told me an absolutely extraordinary story of courage and one man’s resolve to put his shattered world — and legs — back together.

It was a beautiful evening a year ago this October when Kevin Reinert put his golf bag on a trolley at Greensboro’s Starmount Forest Country Club, hoping to get in a quick 18 before meeting Jean at a special fundraiser at the club. “It had been raining for days,” he remembers, “but the weather had suddenly cleared. It was a beautiful evening.”

Reinert, 62, is a retired Air Force colonel who spent almost 30 years working in recruiting and public affairs for the Air Force and Air Force Reserve. He was the administrator responsible for overseeing public affairs for 35 different Reserve units around the United States and the men who helped transform the Reserve’s recruiting profile.

Eleven years ago, Kevin and Jean, who met and married while both were captains on active duty in 1985, relocated from Georgia to Greensboro, where Kevin went to work for The Brooks Group, a leading sales management consulting firm. Before being deployed to Ramstein Air Base in Germany, Jean Reinert taught nursing at UNCG and returned from active duty to become nursing administrator for Cone Health.

“Greensboro was a place we fell for in an instant,” Reinert explained. “It has everything, great restaurants, theaters, wonderful people and a location that was perfect for us — the mountains in one direction, the coast in another. Our kids were grown and doing their thing, and North Carolina really felt like home.”

But all of that changed in an instant as Reinert pushed his golf trolley toward Starmount’s beautiful finishing tee.

“There was a group ahead of me, just out in the fairway, when my phone went off alerting me to incoming messages. I looked down, thinking it might be Jean, as I walked toward the tee. That’s when I heard this ferocious sound. I looked up but I didn’t quite register what I was seeing.”

What he saw was a Kia Rio with smashed side mirrors barreling directly toward him over the course’s cart path.

“I had just enough time to try and jump out of its way. So I jumped, hoping — I don’t know — that maybe I’d land on the hood and roll over the top like you see guys do in the movies. I didn’t get high enough,” he notes with a laugh.

The car struck him at the knees and knocked him over the hood and roof before barreling on. Reinert was tossed 30 feet from the site of impact, landing on the tee. The car was estimated to have been traveling anywhere from 35 to 45 mph, driven by a man who was on a violent robbery and mugging spree, trying to outrun the police. He managed to get one hole farther before the car went out of control and wound up in one of Starmount’s meandering creeks. The driver set off on foot, commandeered another car and was later apprehended.

“My first thought, as I lay there, was a kind of stunned disbelief. I saw that one leg was lying at a 90 degree angle from my body, and when I tried to lift myself up, my arm wouldn’t function.”

Workmen from a nearby residence hurried over, calling 911. The group ahead also rushed back. Reinert asked one of the golfers, a fellow member named Mike Corbett, to find his phone and call his wife. “Jean was over at UNCG and thought I said I’d been hit by a golf cart. She hurried over and actually got there before the ambulance did.”

Owing to heavy rains, the EMS unit couldn’t reach the spot on the course where Reinert lay, but head professional Bill Hall hurried out with a flatbed cart just as a fire unit arrived with a rescue board.

“They got me on the board and Bill drove me back to the parking lot, where the ambulance was waiting. It was a bumpy ride and he kept apologizing. I was probably close to being in shock but joked to him that he’d better not charge me for a cart because I’d walked the course. He thought that was funny. I also told him that if I’d parred the hole, I probably would have shot 87. He couldn’t believe I was conscious and making jokes. But I knew I was in pretty bad shape.”

Both Reinert’s knees were crushed. He’d suffered a shattered femur, a broken tibia, a broken right ankle and a fractured right humerus bone, the upper bone of the arm. “There was a deep cut on my face but, amazingly, no head injuries,” he said. “I was conscious the whole way, already wondering if I would be able to walk again.”

The next morning he underwent six hours of surgery. This was followed by four more surgeries over the ensuing weeks. “The doctors couldn’t give me a clear prognosis or even tell me if I would ever be able to walk or referee or even play golf again.” Besides golf, one of Kevin Reinert’s other pleasures was a budding avocation as a college-level lacrosse official.

After 18 days in the hospital, he was sent home.

He began therapy three days a week that continues to this day.

“The hardest part was just not knowing what was ahead. I sat and tried to watch TV, but the news was so discouraging I decided to turn it off and read books instead.”

An old pal from Long Island who taught him to play golf during their college years together at Adelphi University sent him a box of books, one of which was Ben Hogan: An American Life, my biography of professional golf’s most elusive superstar.

At the height of his success, while returning home from a golf tournament in Arizona, Hogan and his wife, Valerie, were struck head-on by a Greyhound bus that shattered Hogan’s legs and nearly killed the star golfer. His obituary, in fact, went out over the Associated Press wires before it was learned that he was actually hanging on in a rural Texas hospital. Doctors advised Hogan he would likely never walk again, much less play championship golf.

“Frankly I was really down before those books arrived, worried that I might not even be able to walk and play golf,” Reinert admits. “There were real similarities in our stories. I was so moved by his determination to somehow get back to the game — to simply walking — I vowed to myself that I would do the same.”

In 1950, at Merion Golf Club outside Philadelphia, Ben Hogan did indeed come back, capturing the U.S Open on a pair of legs that had little circulation — widely regarded as one of the most heroic comebacks in sports history.

Kevin Reinert made his own big comeback, too. One evening last May, family and 60 or so friends turned out to watch him finish playing Starmount’s 18th hole. “I was blown away so many folk came out to watch,” he said. “Everyone had been so encouraging. I’d made so many new good friends. The support I got from complete strangers was incredible. I simply wouldn’t have made it without them — especially my wife and children. My daughter LeeAnne, who is also a nurse, really pushed me at times.”

Son Phillip, an Air Force flight engineer working at the Boeing factory in Seattle, was also present to play that final hole with his father. He’d flown home the day after the accident on air miles donated by Mike Corbett.

Reinert was wearing a cap given to him by a friend that cleverly read: I Was Run Over By A Car On The Golf Course. What’s Your Excuse?

Another gifted cap read Starmount 18: The Toughest Hole in Golf.

“It was very emotional for us all,” he says. “Made even more amazing by what happened before we teed off.”

On the facing hill, a Scottish bagpiper strolled out in full ceremonial regalia and began playing “Amazing Grace.” Another new friend offered to be Reinert’s caddie.

“Somehow I made bogey on the hole, which allowing for my handicap let me write a par on the card,” he explained to me as we played Pinehurst No. 4 on the first day of the Father’s Day golf fest.

It was his first full round of golf since the accident and he did very well indeed, shooting in the low 90s with both legs wrapped in athletic supports, just like Hogan.

The next day, he even walked mighty Pinehurst No. 2 with a caddie.

“This was one of the greatest weekends of my life,” he told me later. “It feels good to be back.”  PS

Contact editor Jim Dodson at jim@thepilot.com.