Tag: Feature

Ben and Jerry’s Excellent Adventure

When President Gerald Ford joined eight of golf’s all-time greats

By Bill Case

On Sept. 8, 1974, just 30 days after being sworn in as president, Gerald Ford stunned the nation by granting his disgraced predecessor, Richard Nixon, a full and complete pardon for all offenses, known and unknown, committed by Nixon against the United States. Facing certain impeachment and Senate conviction as a result of his conduct during the Watergate scandal, Nixon had resigned on Aug. 9, resulting in the elevation of Ford to the presidency.

Some cynical observers hinted at a corrupt bargain — perhaps Nixon’s resignation was predicated on Ford’s pardoning him. Prior to granting the pardon, Ford had been showered with praise for restoring public confidence in the wake of the Watergate debacle. Post pardon, his brief honeymoon was kaput as a cascade of angry diatribes batted the president about like a piñata.

Earlier, when Ford was still vice president, representatives of Pinehurst’s new World Golf Hall of Fame had invited him to attend the opening ceremony honoring the first class of inductees, and he had agreed. On July 17, 1974, an above-the-fold headline in The Pilot reported that Ford was coming to the Sept. 11 ceremony. However, the vice president’s acceptance contained a caveat that, in retrospect, foreshadowed the political shockwave ahead. “From time to time emergencies do arise which are beyond my control and which might prevent my carrying out this obligation,” he wrote.

Soon after being sworn in as the 38th president, Ford did cancel his appearance. Don Collett, a Houston businessman who had been hired to lead the new Hall of Fame, acknowledged being “crushed” by this development. Sometime later, he received a call from a White House aide who indicated the president was reconsidering. Getting out of Washington, D.C., for a non-partisan event in the Sandhills might provide a brief respite from the controversy swirling around him. Before recommitting, however, Ford wanted to know who was going to be in Pinehurst and what would be expected of him. Collett provided details, and then tossed in a lure he considered irresistible. If the president came he could play a few holes with all the living Hall of Famers.

The World Golf Hall of Fame event was right up the president’s alley. An avid golfer, the powerfully built former center for the 1932-34 University of Michigan Wolverine football team was a long driver, though his game tended to be erratic. At the time, Ford claimed an 18 handicap, proficient enough not to embarrass himself in periodic pro-am appearances. More importantly, the president revered the game’s legendary players, and eight of the greatest still living — Ben Hogan, Sam Snead, Byron Nelson, Gene Sarazen, Patty Berg, Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player and Arnold Palmer — were coming to Pinehurst for their inductions.

Ford was especially looking forward to hobnobbing with Hogan, one of his all-time heroes. By ’74, sightings of Hogan outside his hometown of Fort Worth, Texas, were rare. The nine-time major champion had even stopped attending the annual Champions Dinner at the Masters — a tradition he originated. This vanishment from the stage only served to enhance his unique mystique.

Anxious days passed without further word from the White House. Then the aide phoned Collett again. This time he inquired, “Is Ben Hogan really going to be there?” When Collett replied affirmatively, the aide said, “That’s great . . . The president will be there.”

While it was a remarkable coup to attract a sitting president, Hogan, and the other golf legends to Pinehurst for its opening ceremony, the founding of the World Golf Hall of Fame itself was a notable accomplishment. The concept was one of several elements of a plan hatched by the Diamondhead Corporation, the Pinehurst resort’s owner during the 1970s. For a price of $9.5 million, the company had acquired the resort and accompanying 6,700 acres of undeveloped, mostly forested real estate from its founding family, the Tuftses.

The driving force behind Diamondhead was its creative founder and controller of 90 percent of the company’s stock, Malcom McLean. The North Carolina native made a fortune when he imagined a new and cost-effective way to transport freight across land in shipping containers on trucks that could then be transferred to ocean-going ships. After selling his trucking concern to R.J. Reynolds Inc., McLean founded Diamondhead, whose divisions included medical products, condominiums and resort properties.

Diamondhead’s top brass licked their respective chops at the potential windfall to be gained by subdividing Pinehurst’s forested real estate. Raymond A. North, writing for The Pilot, observed that “the land and condominium salesmen cluster with the intensity of ants on a piece of pie.” It took a lawsuit to derail company plans to erect housing alongside Course No. 2.

While many of the village’s old guard, including Richard Tufts, bemoaned Diamondhead’s approach, it was hard to fault the company’s avowed goal of making Pinehurst (without apologies to Scotland’s St. Andrews) the “Golf Capital of the World.” McLean entrusted the task of making that happen to Bill Maurer, Diamondhead’s president. Maurer, a former golf professional, believed dramatic measures were needed to ramp up the resort’s identification with the game, and his boss was willing to fund them.

For the branding to succeed, Maurer deemed it imperative to bring professional golf tournaments back to the resort. None had been held in Pinehurst since 1951, when Richard Tufts became disenchanted with the U.S. team’s behavior in that year’s Ryder Cup matches. Maurer was not content with hosting a garden variety PGA Tour event. As he phrased it, “If (Pinehurst) is the golf capital of the world, let’s really make it that. Let’s have . . . the World Championship.” Seeking prize money commensurate with the auspicious title, he persuaded McLean to bankroll the largest purse in golf history — $500,000.

To underscore its hoped-for importance, the 1973 World Open was set for a grueling 144 holes, double the usual 72. Intrigued by the prospect of capping off the PGA Tour’s season by crowning the “world champion,” Maurer secured dates for the event from Nov. 5 through 17. To his dismay, the World Open’s marathon length and late dates proved unattractive to several of the game’s elite, including Nicklaus, Lee Trevino, Johnny Miller and Tom Weiskopf, all of whom declined to enter. Marred by these negatives — and freezing weather — the tournament fell far short of a true “World Championship” in the minds of golf fans, the media and tour players.

The following year, the second World Open was shortened to 72 holes, the purse reduced to $300,000, and the date moved to the second week of September, perfect timing for Maurer to showcase another piece of his branding effort: the World Golf Hall of Fame. In March 1973, Diamondhead had broken ground on a white columned building with a fountain and reflecting pools, costing $2.5 million, to house the hall and museum behind the fourth green of course No. 2. It would be ready for the ribbon-cutting on the day prior to the start of the 1974 World Open, Sept. 11. The contemporaneous scheduling would focus public and media attention on Pinehurst as the unrivaled world golf capital.

Maurer had first considered the concept of bringing a golf hall of fame to Pinehurst in 1971. Since neither of the existing halls of fame, operated by the PGA of America and the LPGA, included international stars, an edifice that included foreign players would be a perfect fit for Pinehurst’s new “world” image. Collett, at the behest of Maurer, conducted a feasibility study and subsequently urged Diamondhead to press ahead. Maurer, in turn, obtained McLean’s buy-in. They hired Collett to be both president of the newly christened World Golf Hall of Fame and assume a similar position at Pinehurst, Inc.

Among the dizzying array of Collett’s responsibilities was acquiring artifacts for the hall. In October 1973, he successfully negotiated the purchase of an unequaled collection of ancient golf clubs from St. Andrews professional Laurie Auchterlonie. Collett also rounded up President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s golf cart and other memorabilia previously belonging to the Duke of Windsor, Walter Travis, Belgium’s King Leopold and the great Bobby Jones.

Diamondhead hired Pinehurst resident John Derr to be the World Golf Hall of Fame’s executive vice-president. Derr, a noted radio/television personality, writer, and raconteur, would help publicize the hall and serve as a liaison with the Golf Writers Association of America, whose members were to be involved with the nomination and election process.

Derr’s involvement, however, did not eliminate the contentiousness between Diamondhead and the GWAA in the period leading up to Sept. 11. Writing in the November 1974 edition of Golf magazine, columnist John Ross summed it up this way: “The alliance between Diamondhead and the writers has been a stormy one, the problem largely being the unwillingness of the Pinehurst operators to give control of the voting structure and procedures to the writers. The two-year hassle was still unresolved right up to moment of the induction rites.”

In fact, many higher-ups in golf, including those at the USGA, deemed it a non-starter for a private, profitmaking corporation to own and control the sport’s Hall of Fame and museum. Notwithstanding these criticisms, there was growing, if grudging, respect for Diamondhead’s expenditures of time and resources to make the hall a reality. Hogan himself would praise the founders: “I think it is wonderful and I think it is high time that golf had a ‘world’ golf hall of fame,” he said in an interview upon arrival in Pinehurst. “There have been small ones around the country and I think it’s great that Mr. McLean and Diamondhead Corporation have done this.”

Hogan’s dislike of travel had caused Diamondhead execs to fear he might take a pass on attending his induction. It was common knowledge that he had little interest in being feted and, according to Curt Sampson in his biography Hogan, “hated his reduction to ‘ceremonial’ status in the golf world, which gave other graying golf legends a reason to hit the road.”

On the plus side of the ledger was Hogan’s abiding fondness for Pinehurst. Course No. 2 was the site of his first PGA Tour victory following a decade of struggles — the 1940 North and South Open. He would win that tournament three times. Hogan also played magnificently in the 1951 Ryder Cup matches on No. 2. Furthermore, a return to Pinehurst would permit him to reconnect with Derr, the legendary champion’s American confidant during the 1953 Open Championship at Carnoustie, his last major victory.

Maurer, Collett and Derr breathed a collective sigh of relief when Hogan RSVP’ed “yes” after McLean offered to send his personal jet to fly Ben from Fort Worth to Pinehurst. Byron Nelson, Hogan’s lifetime rival after growing up together in the same caddie pen at Glen Garden Country Club, also hitched a ride.

But nailing down the president’s appearance was the biggest get of all. The maneuvering actually began in May of ’74 when Derr sought to invite Ford — still vice president — while both men were in Charlotte competing in the pro-am preceding the Kemper Open. Derr cajoled evangelist Billy Graham into greasing the skids for an introduction. The vice president expressed interest, but cautioned that before committing, an array of details needed to be worked out. After he succeeded Nixon as president and finally agreed to attend the opening ceremony, those details ballooned tenfold when frenzied preparation for the visit began.

The Secret Service descended on Pinehurst in early September, checking rooftops, motor routes and potential security issues. Longtime Pinehurst resident Peter deYoung, Pinehurst Country Club’s tournament coordinator at the time (and still active locally in organizing junior golf tournaments) made preparations for the president’s golf game on course No. 2. DeYoung recalls being advised by a Secret Service agent that aside from the first tee and the 18th green, no spectators could be permitted on the course. “With our limited resources, that’s impossible to arrange,” deYoung said.

The agent emphatically replied, “No, it’s not. And that’s what we are going to make happen.”

During the week, deYoung and the Secret Service agent established a congenial relationship, or at least deYoung thought so until just prior to the president’s arrival on Sept. 11. The suddenly hostile operative confronted him and demanded to know, “What’s that in your pocket?”

“A pack of cigarettes. I’ll take them out,” deYoung said, taken aback by the change in the agent’s demeanor.

“Don’t touch them!” warned the agent. “I’ll take them out myself.” A threat on the president’s life had been reported, and the agent was taking nothing, and no one, for granted.

The last nail wasn’t pounded into the new hall until the morning of the induction ceremony. The transfer of artifacts from a temporary location on West Village Green Road to the new museum continued right up to the 3 p.m. dedication.

Meanwhile, the honorees began arriving. Collett dispatched his young assistant at Pinehurst County Club, Drew Gross, to pick up Hogan at the airport. Gross, now resident manager at the Pine Crest Inn, was accustomed to meeting and greeting top pros, but shaking the hand of the legendary icon was nonetheless an electrifying moment. “When he looked me in the eye and said, ‘I’m Ben Hogan,’ all I could think to myself was, ‘No shit!’”

The festivities involved plenty of hoopla. Starting at 1 p.m., the living inductees and representatives of deceased honorees Harry Vardon, Babe Zaharias, Walter Hagen, Bobby Jones and Francis Ouimet would gather at the fifth hole of course No. 2. The 82nd Airborne Band would play, and the U.S. Army’s Golden Knights would stage a parachuting exhibition. On the descent from 4,000 feet, the paratroopers would display each golf legend’s national flag. After the Golden Knights touched ground, they would present the banners to the various honorees. Then, 200 yards away on the west steps of the new building, the dedication and inductions were to commence around 2:30 p.m. The Diamondhead men held their breath, praying President Ford would arrive in a timely manner. It was a blisteringly hot day, and prolonging the ceremonies would not be to anyone’s liking.

The White House diary for Sept. 11 reveals how tight Ford’s schedule was. He fitted four substantive meetings, including one of three hours, into his morning agenda prior to boarding a helicopter on the South Grounds at 12:38 p.m. The chopper transported him to Andrews Air Force Base, where he flew on the “Spirit of 76” airplane to Pope Air Force Base, arriving at 1:38 p.m. There Ford was greeted by a crowd of 2,000, including local congressman and great friend Earl Ruth. The president made a brief speech before climbing into another helicopter at 1:58 p.m. destined for the Moore County Airport. Making it to Pinehurst by 2:30 p.m. would be a close call.

The inductees had begun congregating in the lobby of the Pinehurst Hotel around 12:30 p.m. waiting to be transported to the ceremony. Gross, in charge of assembling a caravan of convertibles, noted to his consternation that Nicklaus was not present. He pulled deYoung aside and told him to stay behind with a driver and bring Nicklaus to the ceremony the moment he showed up. They stayed in touch by walkie-talkie.

“It seemed like an hour but it may have been only 10 minutes that I paced the lobby waiting for Jack,” remembers deYoung. “Finally, I went up to his room on the third floor and knocked on the door. I said, ‘Mr. Nicklaus, we have to leave right now.’ He said, ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’”

At last, Jack emerged, sportily donned in an eye-catching Hickey Freeman (Jack endorsed the brand) red sport coat. DeYoung escorted Nicklaus from the hotel to a home on Midland Road bordering No. 2. “I told Jack to walk past the rope line to the fifth fairway, then turn left and walk the 150 yards back to where everything was happening,” says deYoung.

Collett was also worrying about Jack’s whereabouts as the Golden Knights’ aerial exhibition got underway. It would be awkward if the Columbus, Ohio, native was not around to receive his flag from the paratrooper who was carrying it. At the last moment, Nicklaus came into Collett’s view, walking briskly up the fairway toward the tee. The Golden Bear, never tardy for a tee time in nearly 60 years of competitive golf, wasn’t going to miss the flag hand-off either. When the crowd, estimated at 8,000, caught sight of Nicklaus, it erupted into thunderous roars.

At 2:25 p.m. Gerald Ford arrived at the World Golf Hall of Fame, where he was greeted by Maurer, Collett and Gov. James Holshouser. According to Golf World editor-in-chief Dick Taylor, “The band struck up ‘Hail to the Chief’ and Mr. Ford strode down the steps from the shrine, trim, haggard and smiling, and was seated next to his hero, Ben Hogan.” Though this was Ford’s day off from politics, he could not entirely escape their grasp. A group of young baby boomers displayed signs asserting that draft resisters should also be granted pardons while another placard said, “I love my Lincoln but Ford is better.”

Collett presided over the ceremony. Derr and Maurer also spoke briefly, as did the inductees. A grateful Patty Berg proudly claimed this to be her “finest day, also the greatest honor I’ve ever been offered.”

Hogan reiterated his praise for the World Golf Hall of Fame founders. “I think we’ve needed this for some 50 to 75 years, but Diamondhead and Pinehurst finally did it.”

Byron Nelson humbly expressed gratitude for the “wonderful blessings in my life,” and that being inducted into the new hall of fame “is the top of it.”

Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer gently teased each other, and Gary Player thanked the golf writers for selecting him, adding, “Ever since I was a young boy I practiced very, very hard on this tough, humble game. I always had the desire to achieve something.”

The venerable Gene Sarazen lamented the absence of rivals from his glory days: “All my colleagues are gone (Jones, Hagen, Tommy Armour); they’re up there in another Hall of Fame; they’re waiting up there on the tee for me to make a foursome, but I keep telling them, ‘You boys get started. I’ll catch up with you on the back nine.’”

Ageless Sam Snead (the 62-year-old played in the World Open) spoke of his love of the game. “We go out chasing this little white thing for 5 miles, sometimes six hours, through high grass, no grass, water, trees, sand traps, through the air and everywhere else and come home singing.”

Gov. Holshouser introduced Ford, who gave credit to Dwight Eisenhower for doing “as much as any man in this century to make golf the world’s number one participant sport.” The president kept his remarks brief, saving his best stuff for the evening’s enshrinement dinner.

After unveiling a statue of Bobby Jones, Ford rushed to the Pinehurst Country Club and changed into golf attire. Astride the first tee of No. 2 at 4:15, he was accompanied by Palmer, Player, Nicklaus and PGA Tour commissioner Deane Beman. The president outdrove everyone save Nicklaus.

Every few holes, the other inductees would rotate in to play with the president — all except for Hogan, who rode in the cart for a couple of holes with Ford — his sidekick through much of the day. Hogan’s golf was still good enough to hang with top pros, but the unbending perfectionist rejected all pleas to put his game on public display after his shockingly poor performance at the 1971 Houston Open. That included his day with the president.

After carding a respectable 48 for nine holes, Ford was whisked to the Thunderbird Villa adjacent to the hotel. Maurer came to the president’s door at 7:10 p.m., and the two men strolled to the Cardinal Ballroom, entering at 7:14. The president attended a reception in the North Room, and at 7:40 p.m. was escorted to the ballroom’s main table for the enshrinement dinner.

Given Ford’s presence, it was important that everyone at the main table be seated where they were supposed to be. According to documentation at the Ford presidential library, the plan was for LPGA President Carol Mann and Maurer to be on either side of the president. Name cards were placed at each setting in accordance with the prearranged chart. As a failsafe, Collett ordered Gross to make a final check of the cards to verify everything was in order. The Secret Service prevented him from approaching the main table, and the cards somehow got switched. Another main table guest — not Mann — wound up next to the president. “Don was angry, said I had ruined a perfect day,” Gross says. “I got fired, but I was hired back the next day.”

The enshrinement dinner was a hit, largely because the genial Ford was in top form, peppering his presentation with an array of self-effacing one-liners about his golf game. “You’ve heard of Arnie’s Army? My group is called Ford’s Few.” Regarding his wild shots, he said, “Back at my home course in Grand Rapids, Michigan, they don’t yell fore, they yell Ford.” The president acknowledged it could be dangerous to be on the course with him. “You know all these fine Secret Service men you’ve seen around me today, and elsewhere. When I play golf, I’m told they qualify for combat pay.” The president apologized to Palmer, Player, Nicklaus and Snead, for ruining their chances of winning the World Open since they had all teed it up with him earlier in the day. “I’m known as the ‘Jinx of the Links.’”

The president concluded by saying, “This afternoon, quite unsuccessfully, I tried to make a hole in one; tomorrow morning, I‘ll be back in Washington trying to get out of one. We thank all of you for making this a delightful mini-vacation.” After the dinner ended, the president retraced his aerial path, arriving at the White House 22 minutes after midnight. Ford’s day included six flights, three speeches, four political meetings, and nine holes of golf. If it amounted to a vacation, it was a hectic one.

Back in Pinehurst, euphoria from the historic gathering was short-lived. On Sept. 13, Collett suffered a serious heart attack. His lengthy recovery caused him to resign as president of Pinehurst Inc. and relocate to Utah. Other executives left as well. On Oct. 8, the Wall Street Journal reported that Maurer tendered his resignation as Diamondhead’s president. Fast on the heels of Maurer’s departure came Derr’s dismissal from his position at the World Golf Hall of Fame, though he did remain on the board of directors.

Malcolm McLean had ordered an across-the-board tightening of Diamondhead’s belt. “We’re just trying to gear the operation to the times with the tight money situation and real estate sales,” he explained. “Money is tight, but we’re paying the bills.” Diamondhead’s cash flow problems, largely relating to its non-Pinehurst operations, remained intractable and the company teetered toward insolvency. By 1979, its Pinehurst assets had been placed under the management of an independent company, probably at the behest of Diamondhead’s lending banks. This marked an interim step toward Clubcorp of America’s eventual acquisition of the resort in 1984.

The World Golf Hall of Fame experienced its own financial challenges. Ongoing maintenance problems dogged the museum, while attendance and donations dwindled to alarming levels. The ownership and management of the hall would pass from Diamondhead to a nonprofit foundation, to the PGA of America, and more recently, to the World Golf Foundation, spearheaded by the PGA Tour.

In 1998, a new World Golf Hall of Fame opened in St. Johns County, Florida, near St. Augustine. The building in Pinehurst was abandoned and ultimately razed in 1999. After experiencing its own financial woes, the Florida facility closed in 2023 following the announcement that the Hall of Fame would return to Pinehurst, this time on the second floor of the USGA’s new Golf House Pinehurst. The first induction ceremony at the new-old location will take place on Monday, June 10, 2024, during U.S. Open week.

Coming a few months shy of the 50th anniversary of the ’74 celebration, the ceremony — this time at the Carolina Hotel and broadcast on The Golf Channel — will be memorable, but it will be impossible to top the day that eight of the greatest golfers of all time and a president came together behind the fourth green of No. 2. Of that first induction, only Nicklaus and Player remain. Somewhere in the great beyond, Sarazen has caught up with his old cohorts on the back nine. And the men who originated the World Golf Hall of Fame are joyful their creation is about to — as the Beatles once rhapsodized — “get back to where it once belonged.” PS

Pinehurst resident Bill Case is PineStraw’s history man. He can be reached at William.Case@thompsonhine.com.

2023 Feature

The Interpretive Art of Tailgating

Parking lot delights for every occasion

Story & Photographs by Rose Shewey

Tailgating in the South, in all its splendor and glory, shouldn’t be confined to stadium parking lots before football games or auto races. You can enjoy camaraderie and shared meals under the open sky at concerts, steeplechases, or most famously in Moore County, the traditional Blessing of the Hounds — all of which call for truck beds or car boots filled with delectable spreads. Regardless of your reason for gathering together, there are must-have foods at every tailgate. If you want to be the envy of Lot D (for delicious), we have you covered with some simple twists on classic pre-game fare that have the potential to be the envy of the RV crowd. Goodbye fast-food wings and budget brews, we’re bringing our A-game.

Irish Stout Cheese Dip

Beer and cheese go together like pumpkins and pie, but instead of spiking your dip with the popular choice of a hoppy IPA, try a creamy Irish stout with a mixture of cheddar and Gruyère cheese. To boost the flavor, add minced garlic to the roux (or if you’re simply melting your cheese into a dip, add garlic powder) and store in a thermos to serve warm on chilly autumn days.

Honey-Apple Cider Glazed Chicken Wings

Wings are undeniably a fabulous addition to any tailgating spread. In the spirit of the season, and for the love of apple cider, change it up with an autumn-inspired sweet and savory glaze that has heaps of umami thanks to a generous splash of Worcestershire and soy sauce (try coconut aminos in place of soy sauce, but adjust the amount of honey to balance out the sweetness). Add a pinch of cinnamon to warm up the flavor and truly ring in the cold season.

Shepherd’s Pie Soup

Instead of a classic chili, try this hand- and heart-warming soup combining all key ingredients of a shepherd’s pie. In place of minced lamb, consider beef (or a mixture of mushrooms and French lentils for a vegetarian take) and add it to your mirepoix. Tip: If you puree about half of the potatoes going into the soup, you’ll get the best of both worlds — a creamy base with hearty chunks, all in one.

Charcuterie to Go

Portable charcuterie, also called “Jarcuterie,” is a natural progression of a meat and cheese board for all those who can’t imagine a holiday or festivity without this classic (and classy) spread. Combine your favorite cheese, meat, nuts and fruit in a jar for easy transportation and serve on location. For a fall-themed selection, add grapes, figs, blackberries and roasted pumpkin seeds or walnuts. Garnish with a sprig of rosemary to add a splash of seasonal color.

Butterscotch, Pear and Walnut Turnovers

Don’t forget to add a sweet treat to your lineup. Fall inspired turnovers are a handy and welcome tailgating snack. These stuffed puff pastry pockets can be made ahead of time and stored in the freezer, to be baked the day of your big event. Fragrant pears paired with silky-smooth butterscotch sauce and chopped walnuts make for a spectacular filling and, best of all, these baked goods are kid-approved, for all the youngsters in attendance.

German native Rose Shewey is a food stylist and food photographer. To see more of her work visit her website at suessholz.com.

2023 Feature

Blessing of the Hounds

Illustrations by Matt Myers

Every Thanksgiving morning a unique and picturesque ceremony takes place when the Moore County Hounds invites the public to attend the annual Blessing of the Hounds. The ritual, which dates to the Middle Ages, gathers hounds, riders and over 1,000 spectators for the season-opening meet. The celebration of heritage, sport, and community takes place at Buchan Field on North May Street, presided over by Reverend John Talk. The riders begin assembling around 10 a.m. The leadership group wears scarlet-colored jackets while the rest of the riders wear traditional foxhunting attire. Led by their huntsman, Lincoln Sadler, the prized Penn-Marydel hounds — trained to follow specific scents and ignore distractions — arrive. After the blessing, the riders divide into three groups, each following a field master. The huntsman gathers the hounds, and the sound of the horn signals the beginning of the hunt. The hounds and riders depart from Buchan Field into the woods of the 4,000-acre Walthour-Moss Foundation, marking the formal launch of the foxhunting season.

The Moore County Hounds is the oldest recognized pack of foxhounds in North Carolina and one of only a few remaining private packs. It was founded by James and Jack Boyd in 1914 to enjoy both the sport and camaraderie of the hunt. During the foxhunting season the grand dinners hosted by Katharine and Jim Boyd at their Weymouth estate often included songs or poems delivering a good-natured ribbing to an honored guest. These roasts were preserved in a looseleaf binder entitled “Songs of the Sandhills” with the following dedication: “To those who came here to be Sandhillized and remained to be Scandalized — this book is affectionately dedicated.”

While it is impossible to say with 100 percent certainty to whom the following poem/song was dedicated, it’s a good bet the person whose 30th birthday was being celebrated is Augustine (Gus) Healy who was deeply involved in foxhunting with the Boyds and the Moore County Hounds. In recognition, his estate, Firleigh Farms, built in 1923-24, was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2014. Gus Healy was the son of one of the founders of Lyon & Healy, a music business established in Chicago in 1864. Its first advertisement selling sheet music was placed in the Chicago Tribune running alongside an account of Sherman’s March to the Sea. By 1900 Lyon & Healy was the largest publisher of music in the world. It also built pianos, guitars, mandolins, banjos and ukuleles. At one point it was the sole representative selling Steinway & Sons pianos in the Midwest. In 1889 Lyon & Healy built its first harp. The company continues to this day as the world’s gold standard in concert grand harps. As the riders and hounds depart Buchan Field, disappearing into the pine forest of the Walthour-Moss Foundation, one can only imagine James Boyd and Gus Healy being among them.

— Jim Moriarty

Matt Myers is an award-winning writer and illustrator of children’s books. Titles include the New York Times bestseller Battle Bunny, the Theodor Seuss Geisel honor book The Infamous Ratsos, and Children of the Forest, featured in the Wall Street Journal. His fine art paintings have been shown in Brooklyn, Manhattan, Los Angeles, and Charlotte. He has been a guest exhibitor at the Mint Museum and is one of the 2023 ArtPop artists whose work is currently on display throughout the Charlotte area where he lives and works. To see more of his artwork, explore his virtual studio at myerpaints.com

Ode to a Sportsman

On his Thirtieth Birthday by Katharine and Jim Boyd

There’s a fellow named Gus,

A most curious cuss;

No sportsman was ever so keen,

But each day that hounds meet,

He turns white as a sheet

And sings with a terrified mien:

O! we’ll all go a’hunting today,

All nature is smiling and gay.

I will join the glad throng

Though not for very long,

And we’ll all go a’hunting today.

The cause of his groans

Is the horse that he owns,

Who though seeming majestic and grand,

Has a curl to his lips

And a swing to his hips

That forbodes where Augustine will land.

Then we’ll all go a’hunting today.

The meet’s at the kennels, they say.

His bucks and his kicks

Are the least of his tricks

When we all go a’hunting today.

Then his wife says, “Now Gus,

I will not make a fuss,

But get off just as quick as you can.

I am frightened, my dear,

To see that horse rear.”

“So am I,” says the gallant young man.

But I must go a’hunting today,

Though I tremble to hear the brute neigh,

And his head is so high

That his ear’s in my eye,

I will still go a’hunting today.

Though he cannot abide

The horse he must ride,

And the horse is still less fond of Gus;

As he hacks to the meet

With a quavering bleat

He addresses the universe thus:

Here I go a’hunting today,

Though at home I would far rather stay.

If I dare to look round

I’ll go flat on the ground

And I won’t go a’hunting today.

Says this squire to his dame:

“Would to God he were lame

But as he is not

I will take one more shot

And repeat what I often have stated —

We’ll all go a’hunting today.

All nature is smiling and gay.

He will put me down flat

On my shiny top hat —

He will stamp on my chest

And my new yellow vest —

He will play rock the boat

On my fine scarlet coat —

He will dance till he drops

On my nice London tops —

He will caper and prance

On my white Bedford pants,

But I’ll still go a’hunting today.”

We’ll all go a’hunting today.

All nature is smiling and gay.

I will lead the glad throng

That goes laughing along,

And we’ll all go a’hunting today.

2023 Feature

Poem November 2023

After Church

When the preacher’s son told me

my aura was part halo, part rainbow,

I saw him see me

saintly. God

appeared instantly and everywhere

that summer:

smiling in the pansies,

reflecting us in the farm pond,

beside us on our bikes,

in the barn fragrant with warm cows,

glinting from the hay chaff,

the slatted light.

God touched us as we touched,

electricity in our fingers,

we were shimmery and dewy,

our skin golden, hair sun-bleached.

Angels sang in our voices.

The moon rose in heaven, love,

heaven in the moon.

— Debra Kaufman

Debra Kaufman’s newest poerty collection, Outwalking the Shadow, is forthcoming from Redhawk Publications.

2023 Feature Poem

Over Yonder in the Down Under

The story of a modern country house

By Jenna Biter • Photographs from Fiona & Matt McKenzie

Day stumbles ashore on the eastern coast of Australia in anything but a hurry. The sun’s groggy rays yawn over a country house perched up, up, all the way up on a ridge in the Blackall Range before sliding down into valley towns and still sleeping beaches.

Perched between cow pastures on a generational family farm, this is no ordinary country house. There are no hand-hewn logs for walls or rustic stone chimneys puffing away on the roof. No, Matt and Fiona McKenzie politely eschewed the trappings of a traditional country house for a modern one-floor home that invites the outside world in.

Similar to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater, the McKenzies’ house isn’t modern for modernity’s sake. With a 75-foot-long veranda and floor-to-ceiling windows gaping over the sun-soaked valley, the minimalist design seems to say: Don’t look at me, look at that view. Matt and Fiona even vaulted their rancher on stilts to maximize their line of sight to the Pacific Ocean, a 30-minute drive away.

Despite its dark, dark charcoal hue, the metal house almost disappears into the surrounding cow paddocks. The corrugated steel’s ribs continue the lines of the pasture’s lithe grasses and sinewy limbs of the gum trees just down the hill. Describing the house’s building materials, Fiona quips, “We joke that we live in a shed.”

Dissimilar to Fallingwater, the McKenzies’ 3-bedroom, 2-bath was built from a kit. Matt and Fiona selected elements from three or four blueprints — a laundry room here, a porch alcove there, pocket doors everywhere — then combined them into a 4,000-square-foot dream house. That meant a walk-in pantry for Fiona, a professionally trained chef, and an open floor plan easing guests between the kitchen and veranda, the two hearts of the home.

To flow between the twin centers, guests might start in the kitchen, where Fiona works diligently over the open flame of her beloved Falcon stove. Beside her, the McKenzies’ teenage daughter, Molly, sits on a countertop handcrafted out of old barn wood salvaged from Fiona’s dad’s best mate’s grandfather’s cow shed.

Across from Molly, and under the speckled light cast by a trio of egg-shaped mosaic pendants bought by a friend in India, a burled island anchors all kitchen conversation. Rivers of gray resin run through the camphor laurel panels, over the cabinet sides, and all the way down to the honey-colored hardwood floors.

“I wanted a space where people could hang out on the stools on the other side of the island while I’m cooking,” Fiona says. “That’s such a beautiful community thing.”

Inevitably, when it comes time for dinner, guests pulse out of the kitchen under a shelf of cheery, color-coded cookbooks, past hallways adorned with framed family photos and artwork, some by North Carolina author and illustrator Glen Rounds, some others by local artists, like Kay Breeden-Williams. All are backdropped by “agreeable gray” walls.

Under a few more mosaic pendant lights, through six floor-to-ceiling, all-glass panel doors, the house opens up to a Fiona-made Holly dining table standing on the veranda.

“Our houses have always been kind of eclectic because I love pieces with a story,” Fiona says.

Contrasted with the thoughtful curation of decor, the clean lines of the minimalist structure strike a visually pleasing balance. All the trusses, walls, windows and doors were precisely machined to size before delivery to McKenzies’ 30-acre lot in Hunchy, a friendly, rural area on Australia’s Sunshine Coast. The McKenzies erected their home by hand with the community’s help, like an Amish barn raising.

Help started with Fiona’s parents, Dennis and Dawn Creasey. Every day, Dennis made his way up the ridge past his cattle grazing in the fields, the same fields that sometimes grew papayas, bananas and beans while Fiona was growing up. They’re also some of the same plots that Fiona’s grandfather worked as a 19-year-old sharecropper from England.

As the matriarch of the build and “the best baker in the world,” Dawn made daily deliveries of tea and fresh “whatever-she’d-made-that-morning” goodies.

In a family compound worth the label, Fiona’s sister, Julie, lives a knoll over and helped with the build when she could. The daily tea and biscuits fed many more than just family.

“The running joke here is Dad’s got a mate,” Fiona says, laughing at the communal teamwork. In a year-and-a-half, a consistent crew of four — Matt, Dennis, Glen the certified builder, and Julian from around the bend — completed the house, rounding off a journey that moved the family from North Carolina, across the ocean to where there’s a good chance it’s already tomorrow.

For nearly two decades, the McKenzies raised Molly in Moore County, where Matt grew up and his parents, Don and Debbie, still live. For three of those years, Fiona worked at Elliott’s on Linden, and for another 14, she ran the culinary program at Sandhills Community College.

The McKenzies didn’t plan to move to Australia, at least not until retirement. Then came 2019. On a trip to Hunchy for Dawn’s 70th birthday, Dennis built a bonfire so big it could be seen from space. The fire was lit in the early evening; the family ate, drank, and told stories till the embers burnt low. Something felt right there in Hunchy, laid out on a blanket under the bright ribbon of the Milky Way. It was time for their next county in another country.

Matt turned to his wife. “What are we doing? Why don’t we live here?”

Jenna Biter is a writer and military wife in the Sandhills. She can be reached at jennabiter@protonmail.com. PS

2023 Feature

The Champion Next Door

Barbara McIntire reached the pinnacle of amateur golf

By Bill Case

Her golf resume is phenomenal: winner of two U.S. Amateur championships; a British Amateur; six North & South titles; two Western Amateurs. At 21, she electrified the golf world by finishing second in the 1956 U.S. Women’s Open, nearly becoming the first amateur to win that title. Labeled the “Girl Golf Star,” Sports Illustrated put the smiling 25-year-old on its cover in 1960. After competing for the American side in six Curtis Cups, she twice captained U.S. teams to victory. Among her many accolades is the United States Golf Association’s Bob Jones Award, its highest honor, which she received in 2000.

But only the most knowledgeable golf aficionados are familiar with Barbara McIntire and are aware she is in our midst. Long out of the limelight, this great champion resides in Southern Pines, approximately the distance of a long par-5 from the Pine Needles golf course. Barbara, together with standout amateur golfers Phyllis “Tish” Preuss and Judy Bell, acquired their single-level cottage in 2001. Initially, the three longtime friends used the property for a vacation retreat from their home and mutual business interests in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Several years ago, McIntire and Preuss decided to make the cottage their permanent home. Bell still spends the bulk of her time out West.

McIntire, now 88, has been unable to play golf for seven years and tends to stay close to home, enduring the typical ailments of her age group. “My friends are what keep me going,” she says. “Some I’ve known most of my life.”

One of those friends is local resident Pat Tiernan Johnstone. An excellent player herself, Johnstone came to know McIntire in the ’60s while competing in amateur tournaments. “Barbara has always been the type of person who is there for you, come what may,” says Johnstone. “And despite her achievements, she’s always been modest; never puts on airs.”

McIntire’s dearest friends are Preuss and the remarkable Judy Bell, whom she grew to know in the early 1950s playing junior golf. Not merely a standout amateur player, Bell rose through the administrative ranks of the United States Golf Association to become its first female president in 1996. Five years later she was inducted into the World Golf Hall of Fame. Her opinion of her friend’s career is unwavering: “Without doubt, one of the best amateurs ever.”

McIntire and Bell were also business partners. Beginning in 1962 — a time when two women in business for themselves was something of a rarity — they owned and managed a number of retail stores associated with The Broadmoor in Colorado Springs. The not-insignificant income they generated enabled the two trailblazers to afford playing big tournaments all over the country, indeed the world.

McIntire’s father, Bob — a successful businessman — and mother, Marie, introduced their daughter to golf after joining Heather Downs Country Club in Toledo, Ohio, in 1944. At age 9 McIntire tagged along with her parents during their weekend rounds. “I caddied for them, pulling their carts,” she says. “I got $2 a round.” Initially, she did not play, other than stroking occasional putts with an old wooden-shafted blade, but when her father furnished her with a set of cut-down clubs, the future was now.

Under the expert tutelage of Heather Downs’ professional, Harry Moffitt, McIntire won the women’s club championship when she was 13 and competed in both the Western Golf Association and United States Golf Association junior girls’ tournaments.

In 1948, Moffitt and his wife invited Marie McIntire and Barbara to join them for a month of winter golf in Florida. Moffitt figured his 13-year-old protégé’s game would benefit from playing against more seasoned competitors on the so-called Grapefruit Circuit — a series of tournaments for top female amateurs.

McIntire’s first Florida event, the Doherty Challenge Cup in Miami, ranks among her most vivid memories. Intimidated by the players warming up on the range, there was one in particular who stood out: a 27-year-old Findlay, Ohio, native named Peggy Kirk (later Bell), the reigning queen of female golfers in Barbara’s home state. Kirk had won the last two Ohio Amateurs and would achieve a “three-peat” in 1949.

“Peggy was my idol,” says McIntire.

In succeeding years, the two would play numerous rounds together and, despite their age difference, became close friends. “In one of my early rounds with Peggy, I actually whiffed a routine shot,” recalls McIntire. The faux pas caused Kirk to double over in paroxysms of laughter. “She never let me forget it,” McIntire says with a chuckle.

The youngster got over being starstruck and qualified for match play at the Doherty and a succeeding tournament in Palm Beach. “I was hooked,” she says.

During the next four years, McIntire became a presence at regional and national junior events even entering the 1950 U.S. Women’s Amateur at East Lake in Atlanta. For her first round match play opponent, the 15-year-old drew the legendary Glenna Collett Vare, then 47 and winner of six U.S. Amateur championships, arguably America’s greatest female golfer during the first half of the 20th century. Given the 32-year age difference between the competitors, it was definitely a match “of the ages,” if not for them.

Initially McIntire was intimidated by Vare. “She gave me the impression of a strict schoolteacher. I was scared I would do something Glenna would consider an etiquette breach,” says McIntire. After trailing early, her jitteriness in the presence of the great champion dissipated as she rallied to win the match. “Glenna got tired,” she says. “I think she wore out.” It was as far as McIntire would advance but, playing the great Vare, it was far enough.

McIntire compiled an impressive record in junior tournaments, winning the Western Junior Championship and finishing runner-up in the U.S. Girls’ Junior Championships in both 1951 and ’52. In the latter event, she lost in the finals to Mickey Wright, perhaps the best woman player of the second half of the 20th century, whom she came to know well. “I worked hard on my game,” McIntire says, “but Mickey worked harder.”

Venturing outside the junior ranks, McIntire lost in the finals of the 1951 Toledo District championship to Peggy Kirk, but the next year, the 17-year-old captured the district title. McIntire followed Kirk’s footsteps in another way by enrolling at Florida’s Rollins College. Her idol was the school’s first great female golfer, and McIntire starred on the 1954 squad.

At 21 she entered the 1956 United States Women’s Open at Northland Country Club in Duluth, Minnesota. Her 36-hole score of 154 easily made the cut at the halfway point on the very difficult, heavily wooded course. She carded a 77 in the third round, which left her eight shots behind leader Kathy Cornelius. Though seemingly too far back to contend for the championship, she was well-positioned to finish low amateur.

When McIntire arrived at Northland’s 16th tee in the final round she was playing well — even par for the day — and had actually trimmed her eight-stroke deficit to Cornelius down to six. But no one, most of all McIntire, thought she could catch the leader. McIntire birdied 16, parred 17 and reached the green of the par-5 18th in two. Then, to the astonishment of the crowd, she drained her 30-foot putt for an eagle and a final round of 71, three shots under Northland’s par of 74.

The low amateur medal was assured, but there seemed no likelihood McIntire’s torrid finish would overtake Cornelius, who was still two shots clear when she came to the 18th. Feeling the pressure of the moment, Cornelius double-bogeyed the home hole. Stunningly, they were tied at 302. The two women would face off in an 18-hole playoff the next day.

“I was as amazed as anybody when I was told I was in the playoff,” McIntire says. “I went upstairs and practically hid in my locker. It was kind of like going to college before you had finished high school.”

In her autobiography, Breaking the Mold, Judy Bell wrote that the following morning, “Barbara was pretty keyed up so we hung around with her, trying to keep her relaxed just by being there. It was even more important to stay close to her because her parents weren’t there.”

A significant number of LPGA players stayed to root for Cornelius. It wouldn’t do to have an upstart amateur defeat a touring pro in the most important tournament in women’s golf. The pros’ wild cheering for Cornelius’ good shots stood in marked contrast to their stony silence for McIntire. This rudeness disturbed Bell, who wrote that the pros “came very close to cheering when (Barbara) hit a bad shot. Perhaps because of the way the pros reacted, we amateurs became more determined to make a point of applauding Kathy’s good shots as well as Barbara’s.” The LPGA players’ behavior did not go unnoticed by McIntire. Her bid to become the first female amateur to win the U.S. Open was foiled. Cornelius won by seven.

Despite her defeat, McIntire had become a prominent figure in women’s golf. Overtures came her way to turn professional, but she steadfastly resisted them. Eking out a living on the LPGA Tour was no sure thing. Cornelius received just $1,600 for winning the Open. The conduct of the LPGA players during the playoff also factored in. Moreover, close friends like Bell, Preuss, Anne Quast and Polly Riley had all retained their amateur status.

McIntire left Rollins College before completing her degree in business administration, intent on playing golf, just not tour golf. Her father, on the other hand, was not inclined to subsidize that pursuit. McIntire would have to get a job. She contacted Peggy Kirk Bell, who with husband Warren “Bullet” Bell had recently acquired the Pine Needles Lodge & Golf Club. Peggy had no openings and advised McIntire to contact Frank and Masie Cosgrove, proprietors of the resort across Midland Road, Mid-Pines Inn and Golf Club. It happened the Cosgroves were looking for a receptionist, and they hired McIntire for the 1956-57 winter season.

Her time at Mid-Pines coincided with Julius Boros’ tenure as the resort’s head pro. Then in the midst of his career, Boros was on-site only sporadically. But when McIntire did encounter the syrupy swinging Hall of Famer, she got off on the wrong foot.

“I was a smoker and left a butt on the floor,” she recalls. “Julius happened to step on it and was not happy.” McIntire enjoyed a more amiable connection with Julius’ younger brother, Ernie Boros, an assistant pro at Mid-Pines. “Yes, we did have something,” says McIntire. “But things did not work out.”

However, her golf experience in the Sandhills did. In addition to regular rounds at Mid-Pines and Pine Needles, she often played Pinehurst’s No. 2 course. Her familiarity with the storied Donald Ross layout paid dividends in April 1957, when she won the North & South Women’s Amateur Championship, beating Ann Casey Johnstone 3 and 2 in the final match. The victory marked McIntire’s first important title in a non-junior event and proved a harbinger of success to come.

It was also the year that Bob McIntire sold his business in Toledo, moved to Florida, and teamed up with his father to develop Ocean View Ridge. According to one publication, the housing project was located “about a 3-iron shot from Seminole Golf Club.” Barbara came south with her parents, obtained a real estate license and dutifully showed homes to prospective buyers when not on the course. Her primary focus, however, was making America’s 1958 Curtis Cup team. A victory at the Women’s Western Amateur cemented her selection. She would acquit herself well in Cup matches at Massachusetts’ Brae Burn Country Club, winning in foursomes and halving her singles match.

The upward arc of McIntire’s golf reached its apex at the 1959 Women’s U.S. Amateur, contested in the August heat at Congressional Country Club near Washington, D.C. She won her first three matches with ease but struggled mightily in the quarterfinals. Trailing 3 down to defending champion Anne Quast, McIntire cut into the lead but remained 1 down as the two women arrived at the final hole of their 36-hole match. Quast misplayed her tee shot, opening the door for McIntire to square the match and escape with a victory two extra holes later. McIntire survived another close call in the semis to reach the championship final against Joanne Goodwin. There, her clutch putting provided the impetus for a dominating 4 and 3 victory. Barbara McIntire was the national amateur champion.

When the 1960 U.S. Curtis Cup team ventured across the pond to Yorkshire, England, for the semi-annual matches against the Great Britain and Ireland side, the easygoing camaraderie exhibited by the seven women on the U.S. team (as well as their Bermuda shorts and knee socks) raised some British eyebrows. The players called themselves the Seven Dwarfs. McIntire was Grumpy; Quast was Bashful; Joanne Gunderson (later Carner) was Sleepy; and Bell was Dopey. Gunderson felt Bell’s nickname a misnomer because “Dopey never talked and Judy never stopped.” The close-knit U.S. team won easily.

The American players stayed over in order to play in the British Women’s Amateur Championship, that year held at Royal St. David’s Golf Club in Wales. Ancient and foreboding Harlech Castle overlooked the fast-running links below. Three of the four semifinalists were American Curtis Cuppers: McIntire, Quas, and Gunderson. The fourth was Irish champion Philomena Garvey. In the semis, Barbara dispatched Quast 4 and 3, while Garvey upset the powerful Gunderson 3 and 2.

According to Golf Illustrated, the 36-hole final between McIntire and Garvey “was disappointingly dreary for 27 holes,” as McIntire raced out to an 8-up lead. But then Philomena caught fire, unleashing a barrage of birdies. Garvey would eventually cut McIntire’s lead to three up with three holes to play. McIntire wondered whether any golfer in history with such an insurmountable lead had ever lost. To the American’s relief, Philomena’s improbable comeback ended after a 16th-hole bogey. McIntire had won her second national title, becoming only the eighth player to hold the women’s American and British Amateur crowns simultaneously.

McIntire’s place in golf’s pecking order skyrocketed as a result of her nine months of great play. No longer just a promising contender, she stood atop women’s amateur golf. “I guess I just figured it out,” she says with a Mona Lisa smile.

Media attention had already come McIntire’s way. Shortly before leaving for the Curtis Cup, ABC requested she compete as a contestant on the popular television show To Tell the Truth. Her appearance resulted in a minor dust-up. In answering a question posed by actress Polly Bergen, McIntire replied that she had never heard of a 7 1/2 iron. All the celebrity questioners chose an imposter as the “real Barbara McIntire.” A miffed Bergen, presumably led astray by the fact that some wood clubs (but not irons) had fractional numberings, protested to the network that McIntire had failed to “tell the truth.” But it was Bergen, not McIntire, who was mistaken.

More notoriety came when Sports Illustrated put the 25-year-old McIntire on the cover of its August 22, 1960, issue with the tag “Girl Golf Star.” The accompanying eight-page article by Alfred Wright, an example of writing that does not stand the test of time, paid particular attention to McIntire’s looks. Wright noted she seemed taller than her 5-foot, 6-inch height “because of her long, graceful legs” and that her “dark brown hair, precisely coiffured in what is known as a wind-blown bob, looks as brushed and combed on the golf course as it does at a dance.” Wright even mentioned his subject’s “long nails . . . lacquered in a pale red shade.”

Wright was far from being the only writer of the time to fixate on McIntire’s appearance. “I paid no attention to that at all, one way or the other,” she says. “My focus was on my game.”

That focus was especially sharp at Pinehurst’s North & South championship — an event McIntire would win six times (1957, ’60, ’61, ’65, ’69, ’71). She attributes significant credit for her eye-popping record on No. 2 to Jerry Boggan, who served as her caddie during her last five victories. Boggan, a member of the Pinehurst Caddie Hall of Fame, “dressed like a peacock,” with ensembles that included “a green suede sweater, green alligator shoes, yellow pants, and a yellow and green plaid cap,” according to golf writer Lee Pace. Boggan also toted for Billy Joe Patton in his three North and South wins.

In McIntire’s third North & South victory in 1961, her opponent in the final match was none other than Bell, whom she defeated 3 and 1. By then, the two confidants had already started a small business selling Bermuda shorts out of the trunk of a car. “A lot of women we met while we played in tournaments liked the shorts we wore,” wrote Bell. “We decided to call Gutsteintuck, better known as G.T. Inc. . . . and asked if we could sell G.T. shorts and slacks to various shops while traveling around the country.” G.T. did not want the women marketing its sporty attire at wholesale but OKed peddling it at retail. Given the go-ahead by the USGA’s executive director Joe Dey that the enterprise would not jeopardize their amateur status, the two pals were off and running.

The trunk sales proved successful and, in 1959, Bell and McIntire formed a mail-order operation, selling merchandise kept in a spare bedroom at Bell’s parents’ home in Wichita, Kansas. Then in 1962, Bell suggested to McIntire they expand their business activities by leasing a 500-square-foot store at The Broadmoor. Operating the store necessitated being on-site, so they both pulled up stakes and relocated to Colorado Springs. They named their new store A Short Story.

Outfitting the space’s two display windows for Short Story’s first Christmas turned into an outlet for their naturally competitive natures. In one window, Bell installed a fireplace with “burning” gas logs. McIntire countered with a winter wonderland window of snow, front door, and decorated lamppost.

As other commercial spaces at The Broadmoor became available, the women snapped them up and opened new stores, often hiring good female amateurs, like Preuss and Cindy Hill, to staff the operations. They took over the resort’s tennis shop and enlarged it; opened a men’s shop and then a Papagallo store that offered high-end shoes, designer clothes and jewelry.

In 1978, an enormous space of 5,500 square feet came open at the Broadmoor after Abercrombie and Fitch vacated the premises. The ever-confident Bell was determined to lease and renovate the space. The more conservative McIntire balked, concerned about the financial exposure attending such a commitment. But resolute Bell was all-in. “I’m going to do it,” she told her friend. “I don’t want to do it alone.”

McIntire ultimately went along, and the two moved forward with the lease and placed in the space an additional clothing store, The Second Story, and a restaurant, The Little Kitchen. Both establishments were hits. A second restaurant, Bell’s Deli, was subsequently opened several blocks away. By then the two entrepreneurs employed as many as 70 workers. They would own stores at the resort for 35 years, a run that ended after a new owner determined The Broadmoor would henceforward control the resort’s commercial spaces.

Though these various enterprises required McIntire’s daily attention, she did not neglect her golf. After all, Broadmoor’s championship courses were right at her doorstep. But work responsibilities inevitably left less time to tend to her game. Still, she managed to win the 1963 Women’s Western Amateur, held at The Broadmoor.

But by 1964, Joanne Gunderson had supplanted McIntire as the country’s top female amateur. “The Great Gundy” had already won three national amateur championships, and her 275-yard blasts off the tee intimidated most fellow competitors. When Gunderson smashed her way to the championship match of the ’64 U.S. Women’s Amateur at the Prairie Dunes Country Club in Hutchinson, Kansas, many regarded her as a lock to win her fourth title. She would face McIntire, who had surprised herself by making her own run to the 36-hole final.

Typically outdriven by 40 yards, McIntire fell three holes behind Gunderson in the morning segment of the match. She did not panic. “I always tried to ignore what my opponent was doing,” she says. “I concentrated on my own game and being consistent.” She began chipping away at Gundy’s lead in the afternoon. On the 26th hole, Gunderson hit the wrong ball, losing the hole and catapulting McIntire into the lead for the first time. She never relinquished it and closed out the match on the 34th hole to win her second U.S. Amateur.

McIntire continued to play at a high level throughout the 1960s, but her dominance waned as a new generation of talented amateurs, including Laura Baugh, Carol Semple Thompson and Hollis Stacy, rose up. But in 1971, McIntire still had enough game to defeat Stacy (later winner of three U.S. Women’s Opens) for her sixth and final North & South victory. Later that season, 36-year-old McIntire lost 1 up to the 16-year-old Baugh in the quarterfinals of the U.S. Amateur. The exciting match provided an appropriate bookend for McIntire’s appearances in the national championship. It had been the youngster McIntire who bested Hall of Famer Vare in 1950. Now she was the legend defeated by a promising teenager. Baugh would proceed to win the title.

Over time, McIntire’s role in women’s golf segued into that of a senior stateswoman. She captained the 1976 Curtis Cup team to victory at Royal Lytham & St. Anne’s in England. She was a member of the USGA’s Women’s Committee from 1985 to 1996, serving as chair the final two years. At age 63, McIntire captained the 1998 Curtis Cup team to victory, a second appointment at the helm which was unexpected and gratifying. “It was a thrill to be asked,” she says.

McIntire and Bell kept their hand in business by operating the merchandise tents at the 2001 and 2007 U.S Women’s Opens at Pine Needles, requiring extended visits to the Sandhills and enabling McIntire, Bell and Preuss to enjoy frequent lunches with Peggy Kirk Bell. A magnificent foursome indeed. PS

Pinehurst resident Bill Case is PineStraw’s history man. He can be reached at Bill.Case@thompsonhine.com.

2023 Feature

A Community Bright Spot

The Boys & Girls Club turns 25

By Jim Moriarty

It was a perfect storm, for good. Twenty-five years ago the stars aligned — money, advocates and a societal need — and the Boys & Girls Club of the Sandhills was born. That quarter-century will be celebrated at a gala event sponsored by Lin Hutaff’s Pinehurst Realty Group on Thursday, Oct. 19, at the Carolina Hotel’s Grand Ballroom. Among those being honored that evening for their many contributions, then and now, will be Robert (Bob) Dedman Jr., Tom Fazio and Walker Morris.

The club officially opened its doors at the Southern Pines Public Housing Community Center on Feb. 1, 1999. Today the Boys & Girls Club of the Sandhills has grown to include four facilities — the Baxter Teen unit at 160 Memorial Park Court in Southern Pines, the Logan-Blake unit at 15 Dawn Road in Pinehurst, the Trinity unit at 255 S. May Street in Southern Pines, and the newest facility in Kennedy Hall on the campus of Sandhills Community College — and has served over 6,000 children and teens during its 25 years of existence.

The confluence of people of good will, coupled with the financial boon of the first U.S. Open Championship on Pinehurst’s No. 2 course, literally opened the new club’s doors. It was the policy of the USGA in 1999 to allow the host club to manage the championship’s logistics, essentially dealing with everything outside the ropes. “We did it all,” says Pat Corso, who was, at the time, the president of Pinehurst Resort and Country Club. “The USGA said, ‘Good luck, God bless. We’re not going to take the risk. You take the risk.’” The resort created its own tournament division to sell tickets, corporate hospitality, everything. What could have been a financial black hole turned out to be anything but.

“We had the ’91 and ’92 Tour Championships, the ’94 U.S. Senior Open Championship, and we always left money in the community,” says Corso. “The expectation was that we would do something in ’99.”

But what?

The world is never shy of worthy places to put charity dollars, and donating to existing causes would have been an easy choice. There were people who had other ideas. Among the first was retired Brig. Gen. Francis J. Roberts, a close friend of Corso’s who at the time lived in a house on Carolina Vista a couple of well-struck 7-irons from Corso’s desk. Roberts was a West Point graduate who served in World War II, Korea and Vietnam, where he was awarded the Silver Star. “He was quite a guy,” Corso says, “and he was persuasive, as you can imagine.” As a boy in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, Roberts had been a member of a Boys & Girls Club, and he advocated for creating one in Moore County.

“The next thing I know, I get hit up by Tom Fazio,” says Corso. Fazio had designed Pinehurst’s No. 8 course, opening in 1995 to celebrate the resort’s centennial, and in advance of the ’99 Open, he was a frequent visitor to Pinehurst as he reworked the No. 4 course. He and his wife, Sue, founded a Boys & Girls Club in their home of Hendersonville, North Carolina, in the ’80s.

“I kind of twisted Pat’s arm a little bit,” Fazio says. “You guys are looking for a charity. It’s a good thing,” he told Corso. “They do good things for kids. It’s a great opportunity to help.”

Corso took the idea to Walker Morris, the president of Muirfield Broadcasting Inc., who picked up the phone and called Frank Quis, at the time the mayor of Southern Pines. The project was beginning to pick up speed.

“We were planning to move the fire station and expand it, which we did,” recalls Quis. “We knew we’d have a building available. The timing was good for everybody.” A committee was formed to visit Hendersonville, using that club as a template for Southern Pines. Eventually, they would even hire Hendersonville’s executive director, Hoyt Bynum, to take the same job in Southern Pines.

There was still the not incidental matter of seed money and, beginning from scratch, they were going to require a lot of it. “It became obvious we were starting to get into the weeds on it so I had to go to Robert Dedman,” Corso says of Bob Dedman’s father, whose company, ClubCorp, purchased the Pinehurst Resort in 1984.

“I said ‘Robert, if we can do it, we should probably peg it at, like, a half-million dollars to really make this work. The town is going to throw in, basically, a free lease on the old fire station in Southern Pines. We’d have to do the rehab of the building to convert it to a club. I think that’s the magic number.’ And he said OK,” Corso says.

“Locally, we had the inspiration through Fran and Tom and then worked hard together with Walker and Frank and the board we put together but, really, at the end of the day, it was Robert who said ‘yes.’ I think one of the interesting things is the Dedman family has stayed involved in it over the years. Boys & Girls Clubs became a key effort on behalf of the family, both here and in Dallas.” John Earp, the Boys & Girls Club’s director of development, estimates that, over the years, the Dedman family has contributed over a million dollars to the Sandhills club.

While former Sandhills Community College President John Dempsey wasn’t involved in the creation of the club in ’99, he became a Boys & Girls Club board member and was twice its chairman. “Next to Sandhills, it’s been the joy of my life to be involved with the Boys & Girls Club,” says Dempsey. “It’s one of the bright spots of our community. I can’t imagine this town without it. Honestly, it’s difficult to quantify why that is so, other than to say Boys & Girls Club kids, in addition to having a safe place to go — and we all understand the dynamics of quasi-urban living and having too much time on your hands — there is a confidence about these kids, a willingness to engage with adults.

“It’s just a fresher, more zestful approach to life. To see that in an organization that you’re involved in is just mind-blowingly satisfying. You can’t help but love the place. My parents gave me the greatest of all gifts, love and self-confidence and relative security in my own persona. And I never said ‘thank you’ to them enough when they were here. Anything I can do for the Boys & Girls Club is just one more way I can thank my mom and dad.”

Of course, finding the funding to support the clubs is a never-ending project, taking all forms from golf outings to person-to-person outreach by the club members themselves. The black tie gala on Oct. 19 is another opportunity to help. Tickets are $175 per person or $2,500 for a table of 10 and can be purchased on the Boys & Girls Club of the Sandhills website. For more information on the 25th Anniversary Celebration call Larry Smith at 910-692-0777, ext. 2231 or John Earp at ext. 2221. The link to the event with more details is: https://one.bidpal.net/25thcelebration/welcome. It’s one more way to say thank you. PS

Jim Moriarty is the Editor of PineStraw and can be reached at jjmpinestraw@gmail.com.

2023 Feature

Rising from the Crypt

Triumph of the Dracula orchid

Story and Photographs by Jason Harpster

If you think getting there is half the fun, then I submit you’ve never tried transporting a Dracula orchid across state lines. It’s not for the faint of heart.

In September of last year, I attempted just that, driving to the Daniel Stowe Botanical Garden in Belmont, South Carolina, in an SUV tricked out as a traveling hothouse. The idea was to show my Dracula woolwardiae ‘Southern Pines Stalwart’ at the monthly Carolinas gathering of the American Orchid Society judges. The reality proved to be an emotional roller-coaster.

Because the Dracula orchid hangs in a basket and the flower comes out from underneath, cramming it into a box was a nonstarter. Instead, I strung a clothes bar — the kind you hang suit jackets on — across the back of the SUV and suspended the basket from it. Using the cigarette adapter on the car, I hooked up an AC inverter that allowed me to run a humidifier I had pirated from our living room. I even had a gallon jug of water in reserve in case the humidifier ran dry. The setup worked so well it created a cloud in the rear of the SUV that rolled toward the front like coastal fog every time I turned a corner. I felt certain I was going to be pulled over by a state trooper convinced he was busting Cheech and Chong.

While the plant was in pristine condition when I left Southern Pines at 8 a.m., by the time I arrived roughly three hours later, my Draculas looked like balloons with half the air let out of them. They had become limp and lifeless. What had begun as a good idea had morphed into a learning experience. Or so I thought.

Dracula woolwardiae is an Ecuadorian species found on the western slopes of the Andes in dense cloud forests between 4,000 and 6,000 feet above sea level. It was first described by Friedrich Carl Lehmann in 1899 during the golden (and rather cutthroat) days of orchid exploration when rich European families backed expeditions to the jungles of Central and South America looking for new species to hang their names on.

Lehmann named it woolwardiae in honor of Florence Helen Woolward, an English botanical illustrator and author. They worked closely together for more than 10 years on the compendium The Genus Masdevallia, a work of over 400 illustrations commissioned by the ninth Marquess of Lothian that took Woolward two decades to complete.

As luck would have it, this particular meeting of the American Orchid Society judges included a guest speaker (a past president) and a PowerPoint presentation on the finer points of judging Vandas. Normally, if an orchid flower is damaged, it’s done. It’s never going to come back. Dracula flowers, however, are different. I moved the humidifier inside, plugged it into the wall and hung the plant over it. An hour later, when the PowerPoint was over and the lights came back on, the Dracula had come back to life. The flowers literally reinflated, fully open and beautifully displayed, and were perfect by the time the judging started.

My Dracula woolwardiae ‘Southern Pines Stalwart’ was given an award of merit. The flowers scored 83 points, which made ‘Southern Pines Stalwart’ the highest scored and, arguably, the finest example of the species on record in the world.

It’s comforting to know that, in Southern Pines, even our vampires are beautiful. PS

Jason Harpster is an accredited American Orchid Society judge and works at his family’s business, Central Security Systems. He hopes to share his collection of 2,000-plus orchids by starting a botanical garden in Southern Pines.

2023 Feature