Dan Gisvold at Bear Creek

Monday, April 4, 2011


Golf. That was the object of Saturday according to our father. Every Saturday. He was out of the door before first light and back snoring in his recliner with a golf tournament on the TV by 4pm.

He made sure that Bill and Dan knew how to play. He occasionally took them on Saturday. He got them clubs and shoes and lessons. Me? Not so much. In Dad's era, women did not go on golf courses except to accompany their husbands on Sunday. And he wasn't really comfortable with that.

When I married Melvin, I took up golf. It was that or never see the man as he loved the game. So for the first time I got to play golf with my brothers.

I remember a round with Dan in Montana. It was at the local public course. Dan never kept his score. He just loved hitting that little white ball as far as he could. And the two putt rule was in play for every green.

We walked the course. I remember laughing as those long arms and legs twisted around into something that was suppose to be a golf swing. He had such fun. He wasn't into wearing the "proper" clothing or making any kind of low score. He just wanted to be outdoors having fun.

I, on the other hand, wanted to have a serious game. I think that lasted for one hole. I just gave up and had a good time.

Montana was green, the sun was warm, and my brother was with me hitting a little white ball all over the place.

I know now how to play 18 holes on a 9 hole course without passing the club house. We had a lot of fun.

1 comment:

  1. I would have loved golf with dan! I hated keeping score (because who wants to remember a 128 on 9 holes?) and I always played in jeans and a t-shirt. Never "proper" anything about it. I just wanted to hit the ball.

    I miss golf :(