Recently, I said goodbye to a dear friend. His name is Richard. Richard and I spent a lot of time together doing a variety of things. We reenacted the Civil War together. Richard in the artillery, me in the infantry. We shared many a weekend in more than a few states keeping history alive and educating visitors. We were also interpreters at Ohio Village together, enjoying many a day in period conversation. We acted in dinner theatre together, something we had a blast doing. So much so that during some shows, it was all we could do not to bust up laughing. So many fond memories of great times together.
A few years ago, we started playing golf. Richard lived along the 9th fairway of a golf course and loved the game. Me, I really enjoy playing, but am not very good. I would make the 40 minute drive to Richard’s house and off we would go to play. Usually just the two of us, but occasionally a third or fourth. It was those days that it was just Richard and I that I treasure. There is a difference between playing golf in a foursome and just with a friend. Four plus hours on a golf course is an intimate experience. Eighteen holes to talk about whatever you want. Hopes, dreams, frustrations, telling stories, telling tall tales. That doesn’t happen so much in a foursome.
I always looked forward to those days playing with Richard on his home course. He knew every hole by memory, so could just relax and make our way around the course. Richard played the game like no one I have ever seen. Most of us work hard to squeeze every bit we can out of our ability to hit a golf ball. Richard understood that the best way to play to your ability was to simply be in the moment and play. Just play the game and enjoy it. Just play the game and look forward to whatever comes of it. I was always amazed at how easy and unforced his swing was. And, he hit the ball almost perfectly most of the time. He understood that the key was to hit the ball properly, not as hard as possible.
Now, this wasn’t just Richard’s way of playing golf. It was his way of approaching life. He never tried to do things too intensely, but with a relaxed confidence and pure joy in the doing. There is an unwritten rule in golf – when your playing partner hits a bad shot, don’t say anything. Just look away and let them be frustrated. Not Richard. If I hit a bad shot, he would do one of two things. One was to start talking about something unrelated. The other was to provide some little tidbit of advice, delivered in a sincerely helpful tone. The amazing thing was, he always seemed to know which was best for any given time.
I am going to miss Richard in the Civil War camps this summer. But most of all, I will miss him on the golf course. I only hope that a little of my friend rubbed off on me and I will enjoy life more and do things with that sense of joy and confidence.
Our annual foursome at the Johnson’s Island Golf Outing. L to R – Josh, Mike, Richard and me.
3 Responses
Richard was a remarkable man whose passing is mourned by by just about everyone he ever met. I remember him best as the Village banker who always argued politics with me, the town constable, sometimes with a dashing young recruiting officer caught in the middle. My favorite anecdote from those days is of an improvised debate we had in the hotel public room with lots of sound and fury. Afterwards, another interpreter said she had been approached by a visitor who asked if we had police in the Village. She assured the visitor that there was a constable. “Well”, said the visitor, “you need to get him to break up the two old men fighting in the bar”.
I had been very much looking forward to seeing him again at the event in the village this weekend. Now, I fear it will feel as though an important structure has been removed.
So true Dan. I doubt Richard had any idea how many people he positively impacted each day.
Mark thanks for sharing your memories of Richard in such an honest and simple way. But then, there really is no more fitting way of doing so. When I first met Richard I immediately felt comfortable and at ease, like one does when in the company of family and those we love most. No pretense, no facade just a friendly, likable man. I’m so pleased to have played some rounds of golf with him and I do regret there will be no more opportunities to share more.