An elderly man passed away. He had been a long term member of his local golf club, serving as both vice-captaIn and captain and, for many years, was the oldest player. In all his time there, the 16th had always been his bow-up hole. If he wasn’t in the rough, he was in the trees. He knew each bunker intimately. Easy chips would disappear off the far side of the green. Shorts puts would skim the hole and become long puts.

His dying wish was that he be cremated and his ashes poured into the 16th hole. It was a moving ceremony. The club professional, dressed in plus-fours, led the club members up to the 16th green and the club president carried the Challenge Cup, containing the ashes. After a few appropriate words, the members removed their headgear and the president knelt down to pour the contents of the cup into the hole. Just then, a strong gust of wind blew the ashes out-of-bounds.

DC