|GOLFING WITH THE FARRELLS
|Over the years golfing with the Farrells became one of my
favorite past times. It began when I first watched Uncle
Frank swinging his golf club in the house, trying to perfect
his swing. John and Sam both learned how to play golf at
an early age and later Trina also. Because Uncle Frank
was a member of the Henderson Country club, Aunt
Martha began to play. She always liked to be first in
everything she tried, so golf was no different. She became
one of the better women players at the club. Her putting
was outstanding When I was about 8 I visited with the
Farrells in Henderson, spending several weeks with them.
During this visit I hit a golf ball for the first time, (John said
I was better then than later). As time passed, John became
a pretty good golfer and he really worked at it. Sam was
good but never took golf seriously. He later could beat
John. It became a tradition for the Farrells and I to play a
round of Golf during my time off from college and later
during my summer teacher vacations. John, Sam, Uncle
Frank and I would play at least once per year and of
course I never could advance past the "Hacker" category,
while John, Sam and Uncle Frank often shot near par.
John would say, "Let me see your swing?" After observing
it, he would say, "Practice that swing for a couple of weeks
and then......give up golf all together." John tried
everything to get me to playing better. No one could have
had more or better lessons, but alas my Golfing aptitude
was nil. But, we always had fun. Often Uncle Frank and I
were paired against John and Sam. Most of the time we
played the team with the lowest score was the winner and
since Uncle Frank in the early years was the better golfer,
He and I usually won. Once in a while I would actually par
or birdie a hole and win for our team, but very seldom.
After Tom and Trina were married, Tom began to join us
with equal enthusiasm for golfing with the Farrells.
THE FOLLOWING IS
A POEM THAT I WROTE ABOUT UNCLE FRANK.
Below is the last time I played with Uncle Frank. at Memorial Golf Course
in Houston. I found this score card in my bag in August of 1993 and
Uncle Frank passed away in April, 1992. We may have played in the
summer of '91 or perhaps during the Christmas holidays. It appears that
he shot 90 and I shot 99. This was about right for me, but way off for
Uncle Frank, who had trouble walking by this time. Uncle Frank would
have quit with a score like this when he was younger; but he understood
his limits by this time.
Tom and Don, Treeline, Houston, August 16, 1990. Tom 87, Don 84