We were fortunate to have had two outstanding parents who shared many lessons on the importance of family, friends, faith, conduct, respect for elders, humility, humor and a sound work ethic. At my advanced age, I still aspire to their standards.
Our Mom was a Registered Nurse by trade, working as a school nurse in our elementary and junior high schools, then as an office nurse for a revered orthopedic surgeon (Dr. Bruton), who participated in one, if not more, of Joe Namath’s knee surgeries. Our Dad managed stone quarries for the majority of his career, frequently moonlighting on evenings and weekends with Mr. Brown (hanging wallpaper/painting) and with Mr. Heerwagen (various carpentry jobs).
My brother and I were always encouraged (as in expected) to work, holding various and a sundry jobs throughout our youthful years, in hot pursuit of the almighty dollar.
My Resume:
- Mowing, raking and shoveling for Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Haar.
- Working as a busboy in a downtown luncheonette until I was unceremoniously fired for breaking a fluorescent light bulb in a full pie case.
- Working for a $1/hour at Huff’s Sporting Goods Store. My paycheck rarely made it home!
- Umpiring/refereeing youth baseball/basketball games.
- Owner/Operator of J & J Printing, having bought two printing presses, three font boxes full of type, ink and assorted other printing related items for $150.
- Caddying at Baltusrol Golf Club.
- Working as a union laborer in our father’s stone quarries.
I tuned 14 years of age in October of 1968. I can vividly remember filling out the forms for my working papers in our High School office. I immediately delivered the documents to Mr. George Baker, the Head Caddie Master at Baltusrol Golf Club. Mr. Baker and our Dad were friends and past Commander’s at American Legion Post #228 in Springfield, N.J.
Side Bar American Legion Story: As the story was told, our father, being somewhat frugal, decided to smuggle a 5th of hooch into an American Legion dance. As my parents walked across the dance floor, attempting to locate their seats, the bottle slipped out from under our father’s jacket, crashing to the ground, spilling the contents across the floor!
Thinking I had an “in” at Baltusrol, I was optimistic that I would be flush with cash in no time, as $6 a bag was big money. Not to mention, my four year older brother (John), paved the way as an “A” rated caddie, having the opportunity to carry a bag in the 1967 US Open (see Baltusrol for the details).
My first day at Baltusrol Golf Club was on Saturday, October 20th, arriving bright and shiny at 6:30 am. I positioned myself on the Caddie Rail (a split rail fence between the practice putting green and the locker rooms) alongside a dozen and a half or so grizzly veterans, waiting patiently for the bell of the ball to ask me for a dance. Recognizing my lack of experience, I needed to pay my dues, expecting a mid-day or mid-afternoon assignment. Mid-day, mid-afternoon and late-afternoon came and went and so did the bell of the ball…Mr. Baker was nowhere to be found!
Note: In addition to Mr. Baker (Head Caddie Master), Baltusrol employed an Assistant Caddie Master (Frank), who was a burly man without a sense of humor. Frank routinely paced his domain as George Patton would review his troops. During the summer months, the tops of Frank’s shoes were cut open to relieve pressure from a severe corn problem. I was flat out scared of Frank and was always disappointed when Mr. Baker went AWOL!
Little did I know at the time that day one would turn into day two and day two would turn into day three without any action, other than humping large leather golf bags from the Bag Drop to the Rail, hoping for twenty-five cent tips. I had a bunch of hours invested into my new career with little, if anything to show…things were not going as planned.
I don’t remember complaining at the kitchen table as complaining was not in vogue in our household however I am certain my pea sized brain was absolutely exploding. I more than likely received a few “Atta boys” along with encouraging commentary about fortitude, perseverance and persistence, certainly hearing the age old adage, “Good things come to those that wait!”
To this day, I am still not certain the reason(s) for my three-day sentence on Baltusrol’s Caddie Rail. Could it have been?
- Mr. Baker was making a statement that perceived privilege had no place in his world.
- Mr. Baker was testing my resolve.
- Mr. Baker was hoping I would have enough and not return as he had more than his fair share of scrawny, inexperienced youngsters on his Rail. Youngsters whose body weight more closely mirrored the weight of his patrons’ golf bags.
- Collusion between two old American Legion buddies, teaching lessons in patience, persistence and commitment, the old fashioned way!
Caddying became my main source of income from fourteen years of age through my college years. As the years moved on, I spent little time on the Rail, getting out on the course(s) early and often, carrying two bags on either the Lower or Upper Course, sometimes twice a day. Our base rate eventually increased from $6/bag to $7/bag.
In addition to the countless lessons at home, caddying at Baltusrol Golf Club taught me many lessons as well; the importance of punctuality, attitude, personal presentation, courtesy, thoughtfulness, engagement and learning/working at a craft.
Final Thought: Caddying also taught me how to make myself scarce. I would run for the hills from Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery (who would routinely request my services) as the weight of their leather golf bags were akin to an anchor on an ocean liner, their handicaps hovered around thirty and to boot, they were more frugal than our father, never/ever tipping for a job well done!
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The back nine can only get better!
Liked this post a lot !! Can picture the whole thing
Great article; great memories! It was a wonderful childhood … we were blessed!