This is the much anticipated week of the third annual Davis Love III McGladrey Classic at Sea Island Golf Club here on Saint Simons Island. The entire community has spent months getting ready for the influx of PGA golfers and thousands of spectators. I have been fortunate to have been able to see it all up close as an employee with my buddy Pete's sign business. We dug all the post holes and installed signage around the course, the island and the county ( I can now claim the title of PHD... post hole digger). Long days, weary bones, it's been a blast.
The private jets scream directly overhead on their approach into the Saint Simons Island Airport. Limos convey the corporate sponsors to their $800/night rooms in the Lodge. Well dressed captains of industry dressed in bright pastel colored golf shirts drive their carts around the course chasing the little white ball. And I remember the days when I was among them... Strangely, I am grateful that today, instead, I am covered in dirt and sweat with blisters on my hands, enjoying the company of a crew of hard working good ole boys. Strange, but true.
Earlier this week we loaded the trucks with signs for installation at Davis Love's home up island. It's a magnificent, secluded, marsh-side estate complete with stables and all the fixin's. Golf has been "berry, berry good to him".
On Sunday before the tournament began Connie came to work with me to retrofit some pieces we had constructed for each of the tees. She dressed in one of my company work shirts in order to get through the tight security and looked official carrying around my drill. Afterwards we walked around the course and enjoyed the beauty. The Club is built on an old 1800's plantation complete with tabby building ruins and a slave graveyard.
The private jets scream directly overhead on their approach into the Saint Simons Island Airport. Limos convey the corporate sponsors to their $800/night rooms in the Lodge. Well dressed captains of industry dressed in bright pastel colored golf shirts drive their carts around the course chasing the little white ball. And I remember the days when I was among them... Strangely, I am grateful that today, instead, I am covered in dirt and sweat with blisters on my hands, enjoying the company of a crew of hard working good ole boys. Strange, but true.
On Sunday before the tournament began Connie came to work with me to retrofit some pieces we had constructed for each of the tees. She dressed in one of my company work shirts in order to get through the tight security and looked official carrying around my drill. Afterwards we walked around the course and enjoyed the beauty. The Club is built on an old 1800's plantation complete with tabby building ruins and a slave graveyard.
The festivities officially opened today and the island is hopping with activity. With the surge of visitors, all the businesses are making hay while the sun shines... so to speak. There is, of course, golf to watch, but there are also concerts scheduled, celebrity wiffle-ball games and other special events... such as the arrival of the Wounded Warriors.
Corporate sponsors paid for 30 wounded military from the Walter Reed Medical Center in Washington DC to attend the festivities. We joined other island residents in welcoming them this evening. Heart warming... humbling.
And in the evening we were gifted (thanks Sue and George) two tickets to the Gary Allen country music concert under the Live Oaks on the seventh fairway with 3000 other folk.
Good times...
Good times...
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