Harmon Golf Course
Just want to tell you about a young 11 year old boy at Harmon golf course in Lebanon Ohio in 1958. Yes that would be me. Behind my house was a railroad, a creek, a park and about 50 acres of woods. Behind the woods and park was Harmon Golf course. More specifically hole’s 6 and 7. Hole 6 bordered the park and hole 7 bordered the woods, where I spent much of my youth. Hole 6 began at the left of the clubhouse, called the back 4, and went due east a modest par 4. A few steeps north west of #6 green at the top of the hill, was hole 7 tee, which was a long dogleg left, par 4 about 400 yards to the most east, isolated territory of the club, which made it MY territory. Hole 8 returned west shortly bordering hole 7, and then a short par 3 hole nine returning to the clubhouse. North of hole 6 and for about 160 yard left of hole 7 was a hilly wooded area. When there was no one left around, I would take a couple of old golf clubs and play hole 7. I could never reach the sweet spot on hole 7 which was about 160 yards straight down the middle, somewhat to the right of the fairway, but most adults could put it close enough that their second shot would just miss the trees from the left dogleg and at least catch the right side of the green. Even a slice to the wooded area on the right wasn’t all that bad, your second shot could land you just shy of the green. The worst thing you could do would be to hook the ball or even a straight down the left of the fairway. Even a strong drive (for adults) would put you right behind a group of trees between you and the green. Even a worse shot would be into the creek, which would land you a 1 stroke penalty plus at least another 2 strokes to the green. My brother Art, was 4 years older then me. He caddied played with some of the best adults at the course, and was assistant to the grounds keeper. Art was about my size, so carrying a golf bag didn’t appear to be something he would do, But he told me, it wasn’t about carrying the bag, but about keeping track of the players ball, and advising him about the terrain and correct club for the next shot. Especially players that were not familiar with Harmon club. Anyway this 1958 summer day Art and I were hunting golf balls around #7 creek and woods. Art was teaching me how to watch the players ball, how to stay safe behind a large tree, while random players would tee off from hole 7. He chose a couple of large trees just at the beginning of the wooded area between the creek and the fairway. To this day Harmon golf course is still there, they have evolved to an 18 hole course, so hole # 7 might not be the same number, but it is still there, the creek, the wooded area, the same fairway. Even though the next few minutes were embedded in my memory, it has taken over 60 years to unravel the details. All I initially remembered was a thump to the head, Lights began flickering then darkness.
I mentioned the last thing I remembered was everything going dark. But people told me things and some memories were still trapped in my mind. So to avoid confusion I probably won’t try to distinguish between the two, but just let you figure out what the truth is. I was told that I staggered and almost fell off of a 5-6 foot ledge into the creek, but Art pulled me back. The golfer that supposedly hit me was my fathers insurance agent Grandson of a famous writer “Zane Gray” and that he paid the hospital bills. That night I went into convulsions, my hands would fly into the air, and my body would jerk as if I were possessed. That night mom and dad rushed me to children’s hospital in Cincinnati Ohio, where I spent the next 2-3 weeks. The only thing I remember about the hospital was the loneliness and the two shots every day, which after a few days didn’t really bother me anymore, and the 4 scars (two on the back and one on each side near the temple) that would remind me of the event for most of my life. Memory is a strange thing sometimes, you don’t know if the memory is real or if it is a dream or if you just remember what someone has told you. For instance, I remember climbing on a fence gate when I was 2 years old. Actually I don’t remember the event at all but I can still look at the photograph, and at one point I could remember not the event, but barely remember remembering the event. But that day in the summer of 1958 was imprinted and then buried. Occasionally some detail will crop up that is new to me. The first night after beginning this short story a name popped up after I went to bed that was so significant that I had to get up and write it down. Zane Gray. That is a name I haven’t heard in decades, about as long as I have been trying to remember the insurance agent that hit the ball. I don’t know if that was the golfer that drove the ball that hit me, but when I remembered it seemed to be associated with insurance and that 1958 day. The next morning I googled the name Zane Gray, and found out that he was a famous author from Zanesville Ohio, just a few miles from Lebanon. Zane moved to California in the 1930’s, so obviously it wasn’t him, but did he leave some relatives around Lebanon that started an insurance company. I don’t know, and I don’t know how to find out records that far back, besides it doesn’t really matter, it was an accident. Or was it.
It was about 30 years ago that I began to remember some details that made me think, maybe it wasn’t an accident. I would have been somewhere in my 40’s, about 30 years after the event. Now we all know how reliable 30 year old memories can be, but these are details, that are verified by common sense. I was told that the ball hit a tree behind me and ricocheted back to hit me. I know it hit me near my left temple, I could feel the knot years after even after the knot was gone. That can be verified because I would have been hiding behind the tree, looking at the fairway just as my brother would have instructed me to do. One reason we were there was that Art was teaching me to be a caddy, and much more important than just carrying their bag was keeping track of their ball. What is significant about the new details that I remembered some 20 years ago was that there were three balls hit into the woods. The first one in the trees well above us and deeper into the woods. The second one closer into the woods and the third one that hit me. If you play golf you know that generally when you take a mulligan, you wait until all the other golfers have hit before hitting your mulligan. That means that three golfers hit three shots into the worse possible location for your initial drive you could possibly make. What are the odds. Especially when you acknowledge that these are not random players. They are young local professionals that know the course.
Following the woods east of fairway #8 you found yourself on fairway #2 and a short distance to tee #3, a short par 3 farthermost east of the course. Sometimes I would venture this far, but not often. If the grounds keeper caught me there was no place to go.
Rice Ware - Historical Photos
Great Grandfather Rice Ware Born July 23 1846. I believe the second photo is a copy of Rice about 1860 beginning of Civil War. if someone has facial recognition software they might be able to confirm it.
Rice Ware and Telithia Haggard (related to Merl Haggard) and their children: L-R
Virgil Ware - My great grandfather born October 6,1984 (same BD as myself)
Emma McKee - Born 1860
Maggie Cannon - Born 1879
Mary Apple - Born 1877
Megarvy Ware - Born 1883, From what I understand Megarvy left Kentucky as a young man and went to Missouri. never heard from again. Families of the remaining children attended a family reunion (Big Bone State Park) every year from about 1966 to 2007 when I disbanded the reunion due to lack of interest.
Rice Ware - Early family reunion