I grew up on a farm, but was never suited to being a farmer. My parents understood this and while my assistance was expected from time to time, the most important thing was that I worked somewhere. I worked at a golf course.
Cindy and I are driving from Grand Forks to San Diego for a technology conference (ISTE – the International Society for Technology in Education). The road trip sounded like a great adventure and so far this has been the case. We were somewhere in very rural Nebraska (I say this as only someone from North Dakota can) and we came across a sight that took me back. It was men’s night at the Augusta Wind Public golf course – Stapleton, NE.
Augusta Wind – get it?
My job at the Pierson golf course was to oil and rake the sand greens. Sand “greens” – not sand traps. The oil (recycled from the local gas station) creates a better texture than dry sand for putting. What caught my attention with Augusta Winds was the fairways. The greens were very green. I could not figure out where the fairways were. It all looked like rough.
We stopped to take a few photos and struck up a conversation. Perhaps they thought we were potential members. There were fairways – they had just been hayed. Really. The guy I talked with admitted the rough was rough.
We exchanged a few stories based on our golf backgrounds – the commitment to the game, not our skills.
Cindy says most of us are spoiled and forget about those guys who value something so much they build and maintain their own golf course in the middle of a field in the middle of somewhere in Nebraska.
