By Larimee Cortnik
After about 10 plus years, I finally got back to the golf course.
It was a cool sunny summer September Sunday, good friends, a bag of big pretzels, a couple illegal beers, more than a few lost golf balls and some nice divots, but with the ball still cradled on top the tee. The land was a beautiful tree-encased rolling hills.
We were finishing the 8th hole when I realized my driver was missing (the golf club, not the person steering the golf cart). These clubs have special meaning to me and it was disappointing to think that I may have lost one. We searched, but did not find. It could have been anywhere out there. And no, I didn’t toss it into a lake in a fit of exasperation—which I have witnessed.
Back at the clubhouse, I gave the golf clerk my info in case anyone turned it in. She said, “Oh, don’t even worry about it, someone will find it and turn it in.” That was a positive sentiment considering we hear so many negative things these days. Sure enough, the next day I got a phone call that someone did in fact turn in my club. I don’t know who the person was. But thank you for your honesty!
Larimee Cortnik is a contributing writer.