Happy Father's Day

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(my father on the 3rd tee at Homestead Golf Course in West Milton, Ohio - please note the absolutely picture perfect mid-swing position, and of course - the ever present cigarette)


Do you see that short, thin lefty pictured above? You did *not* want to challenge him to a game of golf.

When I was in my teens I caddied for my father quite often. Many times I saw his fellow GM employees towering over him on the first tee, only to find themselves scratching their heads by the 5th hole after my Dad out drove them by 40 yards once again.

Then by the 13th hole I would see these same folks - out for my Dad's blood because he was always the man to beat - pacing around as if punch-drunk, as they slowly realized that my Dad's short game (chipping and putting) was actually his bread and butter.

Then after the round, in the clubhouse, I would see these very same co-workers for the last time, sulking as they pulled out their wallets and peeled off dollar bills and placed them in my Dad's hand. In retrospect, I suppose that the proudly beaming grin on my goofy teen-aged face did not help with their sulking issues.

I still remember driving home, happily rehashing the round, while my Dad quietly drove - a very slight but contented smile on his face - occasionally nodding and looking over at me.

For the above memories, and many more, I say "Happy Father's Day!" to my Dad . . . John C. Smith.

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