When I was attending Hadley Jr. High in the eighth grade, I peeked into the typing classroom since I was planning to include typing class in my 9th grade schedule. The room was filled with Underwriter typewriters. The scary thing was that no letters, numbers or symbols were on any keys. They were blank!! Seriously? Blank? I was shocked and I thought there was no way I could learn to type without anything on the keys. Fast forward to the ninth grade and my first day in typing class. The class began by trying to organize everyone in the order of their proficiency or lack thereof. I was just one of the nameless irrelevant participants in this monumental effort to learn how to type. During the first week it was determined that the person in the number one position would be Susan Little. She was only the best-looking girl in the whole ninth grade. She was already too good a typist to be in this class. Why would she even be in this class? Was it just to make the rest of us feel inadequate? Maybe in some cruel way she liked the fact that all of us were overwhelmed by the pure magnitude of the effort needed to succeed. Fumbling over the keyboard, screwing up the most basic assignments, unable to foster the skills required to actually type. All I know is that she was pretty and I wanted to sit next to her. As it turned out you could move up the ladder and improve your seat location by getting better at typing. I made this my personal challenge. My dad bought me a little Smith-Corona manual portable typewriter. I immediately started typing at home. I typed… “Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their party.” I am not sure where that came from… probably my dad suggested it. As it turns out this little sentence allows you to use all of your fingers and most of the basic keys and as unbelievable as it seems is a great way to build your typing skills. I literally typed that sentence over and over… completed sheet after sheet of paper, endless hours perfecting my dexterity, thousands of repetitions… ultimately, I could type the sentence at around 70 words a minute and my position in class put me right next to the best typist in the class… you guessed it Susan Little. It was great to sit next to her in class. Frankly, I don’t think it made any difference to her. I was still at the bottom of the social register, but I happened to be sitting next to her in class. I didn’t do anything stupid, just maintained my perfect attendance and enjoyed sitting adjacent to the person responsible for my typing acuity. I didn’t realize at the time that all of that effort to sit next to Susan Little resulted in my being able to type well and served me for the rest of my life. I credit typing with much of my success in high school, college, the military and beyond. Thank you Susan Little for contributing to my lifelong typing skills.
Whoever Came Up With The Name Husky Should Be Shot
I remember a dark day in my early years. It was a day that will live in infamy for me. My mother took me to the store to buy school clothes. It was always fun to do that. While we were there, she said that I would need some jeans and that we should look in the “Husky” section. She shouldn’t have said that. It didn’t sit right with me. The Husky section. I was going to have to wear Husky jeans. This was unthinkable. I would make regular jeans work somehow. Maybe we can move the button at the top. Maybe not button them and wear a belt. There had to be a way. Or maybe I could lose some weight. What a novel idea. At the time I was spending a lot of hours watching TV and eating. I guess maybe that would have to change. I refused to go with my mother into the Husky section. That simply was not going to happen. What about my self-esteem? Are we going to put this mark on me and have me live with the humiliation? What if someone saw me shopping in the Husky section… or worse saw me at the check out counter with Husky jeans. I couldn’t even imagine something like that. Do Husky jeans have the word Husky on them?… surely not. Would it be obvious that the jeans I was wearing were Huskies? Forget about it… this was not going to happen. Who came up with the idea of naming these pants Huskies in the first place. Frankly this didn’t seem to me like a great marketing idea. To brand a kid with that label is wrong on many levels. Do they still have Huskies? Surely someone along the way saw the flaw in this unkind reference and moved on to something less offensive. I mean, think about it, what is the likelihood of my sharing the fact that I am wearing Husky jeans? Not in this life. I don’t think my commitment to losing weight actually happened right then but clearly something had to change. Once again something happened at just the right time for me and my life would change forever.
Golf Saved Me From Huskies
It was the summer after 9th grade… I was sitting on the couch like I normally did eating cheese balls or whatever was handy and my mother indicated that I needed to get off the couch and do something. I still hadn’t really addressed the dark cloud hanging over me that I might actually have to give in to shopping for Husky pants. It turned out that they were holding the Kansas State Amateur Golf Tournament at Rolling Hills Country Club and needed caddies. My mother said that she would take me out there and I could maybe earn some money as a caddy. She dropped me off at Rolling Hills CC. I signed up to caddy and the only job I got was shagging balls. I wasn’t sure what that meant. Basically, you are on the driving range and you stand there and the golfer you are shagging for gives you his shag bag (empty). You go out and he hits golf balls at you and you “shag” them and put them in the bag. The balls go all over the place. You run after them and bring them back to the bag. You hopefully don’t get hit and when the bag is full you bring them to the golfer and do it all over again. I was shagging for a golfer named Max Cole. (This will have real significance a few years later.) I did not get to caddy in that tournament, I only was able to shag balls. but I did start going back to caddy after the tournament. It was hard work for not much pay but it was the first time I actually earned any money. The job was to carry a huge bag for some rich high handicapper who didn’t understand anything beyond the Flat Rate. The Flat Rate was what the club determine it was worth to carry a bag for 9 or 18 holes. It was $1.50 for 9 and $2.25 for 18. Of course, you could get tips. Rarely happened for me. The other option was to double caddy. This meant you would carry two heavy bags. One on each shoulder. The Flat Rate for 18 on that one was $4.50. Wichita summers are hot and humid. I can think of a lot of jobs better than carrying a 40-pound golf bag for a few miles up and down hills, in and out of the rough, into the trees and looking for stray golf balls. It was not a lot of fun.
Every Monday the course was closed and the caddies could play for free. I didn’t have any golf clubs so I started going to Sim Park Municipal Golf Course on Mondays… rent clubs and play golf. I remember my first 18 holes I shot 67 on each side for a total of 134. That would prove to be my worst score…it only got better after that. Pretty soon I was going to Sim Park more than I was caddying at Rolling Hills and eventually stopped caddying all together. My parents would drop me off at Sim Park in the morning, I would hang out all day…playing and practicing…and catch a ride home with the Assistant Pro Ron Blevins at night. I would go out to the driving range and listen to the club pro give golf lessons. I never had a formal lesson but learned a lot from Fred Kreyer who was the resident pro. Within a couple of months I had been able to buy a set of golf clubs and drop my scores into the 70’s and 80’s. By the time I entered North High School I was a single digit handicap and went out for the Golf Team and started my life as a golfer. From age 14 until I graduated from college I played golf everyday that weather would permit… I went to college on a golf scholarship and played in three NCAA Tournaments… sophomore, junior and senior years.
Here is how I landed the scholarship. I entered the Kansas State Amateur Tournament that was being held at McDonald Park Golf Course in Wichita. It was a match play tournament. I was 17 at the time. I had made a bit of a name for myself while attending Wichita North. I ended up qualifying for the Championship Flight and won a couple of matches and then as luck would have it I was to play of all people, Max Cole, in the Semi Finals. This was a bit crazy because this is the same guy that 3 years earlier I had started my Golf journey by shagging balls for him. Now I was playing him in this tournament. I ended up losing 2 and 1 to him but the Golf Coach at Wichita State University… Bob Kirkpatrick was in the gallery that day and liked what he saw. Later that summer I entered the USGA Kansas Junior Amateur being held in Independence, Kansas. I actually played Grier Jones in the final match and again lost to him 2 and 1. But that made me the runner up in one of the most prestigious amateur tournaments held in Kansas. Grier ended up having a long career on the PGA tour and eventually became the Golf Coach at Wichita State. The combination of that tournament result and the match I played against Max Cole led Bob Kirkpatrick to offer me a Golf Scholarship to Wichita State University. I would officially become a Shocker. Thank you Max Cole and Grier Jones for making college possible.
I want to take a minute and talk about the challenges that I faced coming from a financially challenged family (let’s just say it…a poor family). As I started my Golf journey I had to deal with some financial realities. I didn’t have any money. The good news is that my mom and dad really supported me and made sure that I could play golf at Sim park and bought me a year-round pass. At that time a year-round pass at Sim Park was $52.50. I did have a bag and clubs but I never had golf shoes and I never wore a glove. When you don’t have money you find ways to deflect any concerns like… why don’t you wear golf shoes and why don’t you wear a glove. Well, I had an answer for both. I wore tennis shoes but my reason was simple. By wearing tennis shoes I was able to stay still over the ball. I didn’t over swing or slip when I swung the club. It gave me a lot of control over where the ball was going. Sounds like a good reason to me. Regarding the glove I didn’t wear one because I liked the feel of gripping the club without a glove. I didn’t actually get golf shoes until I went to college. I was able to buy golf shoes because Bob Kirkpatrick who was also the Athletic Director allowed the golf team to sell programs at all of the Football and Basketball games and earn money for golf equipment. As it turned out I have never worn a golf glove because my reason for not doing so was valid for me and I did like the feel of the clubs without a glove. Golf really did change my life for the better. I was able to go to college, become an Officer in the Air Force through the AFROTC program and as a side benefit, I met Kathy on a blind date when I went to Basic Training after my Sophomore year at Hamilton AFB in Novato, California. She became the single most important person in my life for the next 54 years. Boy do I miss her.
