The following bio is a bit different from the norm. However, while it does not consist of the typical line items of achievements, every word is true and without embellishment. Following is the inspiration behind the development of "The Country Club of Life."

If I were to be viewed by the world's standards, I would fall into the category of "failure, "loser," "unsophisticated," along with many other adjectives I've been labeled that would not be proper to list in this context. However, along the way, I heard a sermon where the preacher said, "God knew exactly the way your life would go before He ever created you. Yet He created you anyway because He had a specific purpose for your life that, when discovered, would glorify Him." Being that "unsophisticated" guy, I had no comeback.

Born March 26, 1953, in Stamford, Connecticut, my family lived in a three-family home owned by my aunt and uncle in the Italian section. I use the word "home" since I didn't realize that my father's family really didn't have a lot until I was older. My uncle had a garden behind the garage.  Many meals were homemade.  My father's brothers and sisters all had roles in the family. One uncle was the painter, the other a carpenter, and my father took care of the plumbing and heating. One sister made a lot of the family's clothes while his other sister spoiled us. She and my uncle both worked, and as kids, we all thought they were rich. They, of course, weren't, but they were incredibly generous.

When I was eleven, my parents bought a home whose backyard looked into a fairway of the town golf course. My father brought me to that golf course to begin caddying and earning money, and where I would see baseball legend Jackie Robinson come to play nine holes several afternoons each week during the summers. I started practically living at the course, caddying and playing the game, it became a part of me, and it seemed I had a God-given gift. By the time I was fifteen, I was shooting in the 70's most rounds, yet I had no formal training.  We "dug our games out of the dirt," as the expression went. In June of that year, 1968, Lee Trevino came to play the club the Saturday before winning his first of two United States Opens. I remember it was the day of Robert Kennedy's funeral. I came to know Lee, and I would see him several times a year for the next six years. He was a cool guy, and I wanted to be just like him.


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