- November 25, 2024
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I moved to Palm Coast in 1997 and thought it would finally be retirement after about 40 good but tough years as a radio broadcaster. I had a whole new way of life.
Oh, in radio, I could be tough, even nasty, when I saw city officials nailing good citizens to the wall. I wanted no more of that and followed the golden rule of being nice in everything I said or wrote.
Here, fellow golfers got on my back to start writing a golf column.
“No,” I said. “I’m retired.”
Besides, I thought, no one would want me, and I’m off the hook. But I went to Carl Laundrie, an extremely nice person then and now, and applied for the job. I was shocked he hired me.
Playing at Palm Harbor from time to time with Bob Ross as a partner, I thought this is where I should start. Ross was, and is, a good golfer, and one of the nicest persons I’ve ever met.
Occasionally, his swing falls apart. I told him to keep his right arm close to the body and his troubles would end.
I asked Ross if I could do a profile on him. The paper I was working for just didn’t do that then. I thought this might end my newspaper career. So be it.
When it appeared at the editorial desk, it went to the eyes of Roy Parry, a brilliant editor. He wrote an email saying: “I like what you did. Would you do that every week?”
Surprised, but happy, I said no; it involved too much background work. But I agreed to do it once a month.
So, playing golf with Bob Ross recently, I looked at him and said: “You know, Bob, you are an icon — the beginning of personality stories here, in Palm Coast.”
Looking back, I think it’s a shame this wonderful man is not afforded honors for what he did and what he does now. He makes tee times for groups when others won’t. He starts and runs new events such as Nine and Dine at the Pine Course. If I had a vote in the upcoming Grand Club Hall of Fame — and I don’t — Ross would be in my top four.
When you see him next, the hundreds of you who have your own profiles on your favorite wall, just say thank you to Bob Ross, because he is where it all started.
