Over the past thirteen years with GolfClubAtlas.com, one nagging regret I’ve had is that we (me included) haven’t taken advantage fully of its non-commercial aspect. Given no sponsor pressure or even need to attract page views, we are all free to write in detail regarding a subject matter upon which nearly all other media outlets would pass.
A perfect example of what I wish ‘we’ did more of is Chris Buie’s latest on Pinehurst. It isn’t on its halcyon days with folks like Fownes, Tillinghast and Travis stopping in to see Ross. Nor is it on Coore & Crenshaw’s well chronicled - and highly successful - effort in recapturing No.2’s uniqueness. Rather, Chris focuses on a period of time whereby Pinehurst lost its way, roughly from Ross’s death in 1948 to the late 1960s when Richard Tufts sold the resort to Diamondhead. Hence, the title The Middle Ages of Pinehurst.
Admittedly, that period was a tough stretch in American history. WWII changed everything and for a period of time, art forms of all kinds (buildings, paintings, golf courses, etc. ) suffered with stark functionality replacing creativity. No surprise that these times took a toll on Pinehurst. What IS a surprise is that the changes were driven by Richard Tufts, son of Leonard Tufts, as well as Henson Maples, son of long time Green Keeper Frank Maples. In theory, one might have thought/hoped that these very two people would have been the most respectful/mindful of what their predecessors had created. Sadly, no matter how you slice things, time has shown that was not the case.
Chris is careful to say that they worked with good intentions. To quote Chris, Richard Tufts was “...what you would call a perfect gentleman with immaculate manners who was entirely dedicated to the game and to Pinehurst.” Like countless other business executives that have sat on club boards intending to do well for their club, Richard Tufts certainly thought his actions would benefit Pinehurst over the long haul. Why not split up Pinehurst No. 3, using some of its holes for the newly created No. 5, to help accommodate the growing demand for rounds? Also, having RTJ Sr. alter No. 4 was surely the right decision, too, wasn’t it? Ross was dead and RTJ was the biggest name in architecture at the time.
Being both an owner and an architect is to be all powerful. Tufts had his own thoughts and he had the power to see them implemented. In his role, Henson saw that the sand faces were grassed down and certain greens modified, all for the sake of saving money. In the process, Ross’s handiwork was undermined, Pinehurst’s natural sandy state was slowly hidden from view, and the golf became more standardized.
Yet, there is nothing unsavory or greedy in their actions. If there was, that would simplify the story! This is more complex with no neat, tidy ending. After all, Richard Tufts didn’t undertake these actions simply to capitalize on lot sales as America pulled out of its gloomy times. His love was amateur golf, first and foremost. The houses that now line No. 3 and No. 5 were largely built by Diamondhead in the 1970s after Tufts was forced to sell for estate tax reasons.
So what drove him to cancel the North and South Open, strip Harvie Ward of his amateur status, and break up and alter the tightly knit four courses? We may never fully know. Leading up to the US Opens to be contested here in 2014, no one is likely to cover the evolution of Pinehurst from this perspective or during this time period either. Again, this is not the type story that lends itself to a feel good piece. And perhaps maybe it is of no concern to you – all you care about is that No.2 is once again great and your friends and you are coming!
Still, the old adage of those ‘who don’t know history are doomed to repeat’ seems to apply here. Simply turning our back on this (regrettable) period of time is to not learn from it, which is a shame. What adds to this journey is Chris’s characteristic meandering prose which weaves in and out of the disparate elements of a complex story. It is his storytelling approach rather than a dry progression of facts which helps him do an uncommonly good job of evoking a distinctive sense of time and place, at least to me. For example, no one else uses the turn of phrases below, which makes the read all the more entertaining:
Donald Ross was the man who handed the medal to the winner of Pinehurst’s major tournament. What sort of experience do you suppose that was? All those years of chasing the dream across those endless fields…and then the sun setting over the iconic clubhouse with the Scotsman offering congratulations in a voice still reflective of his native land. It would have been one of those handful of golden moments in life which remain a spectral presence far beyond the duration of the given day. In fact, most of the visitors during this era had their own mesmeric experiences. Only it was not usually with such fanfare. In smaller and quieter ways the same scenario played out with individual variations; such as in the exquisite stillness of a late afternoon on the veranda, a moonlight walk to the Carolina or a soaring four iron to the heart of one of those distinctive greens. In a way, you could say such sublime experiences have always been the raison d’etre of the village. Was it not for this so many travellers returned year after year?
Donald Ross would not have been pleased to see the winding path his magnum opus took after his long years of toil through that longleaf forest. However, this ongoing journey back to the intended essence would have impressed him greatly.
And some of the best chapters haven’t even been written yet.
I hope others might consider following suit and delve into topics considered too esoteric elsewhere. In the meanwhile, we have Chris’s latest and greatest from America’s Home of Golf to savor and enjoy.
Cheers,