editorial [“Bill Versus Hillary in 2008,” June 27-July 4] reveals the usual liberal penchant for symbol over substance. While Hillary’s talk has moved right, her votes remain to the left. She also won’t be the stealth candidate her husband was. She certainly won’t fool any Republicans. As for Bill Frist, his job as Majority Leader works against his prospects. John McCain apparently is planning for Democrats to vote for him, but most Republicans won’t vote for his nomination. I think Howard Dean will be the Democratic nominee, Mr.
an independent nominee, and Dick Cheney the Republican nominee. My best bet of the day is that Hillary will not get the nomination. She is not the first choice of either the hard left who currently control the Democrats, or the moderates who want a nominee like the first Clinton; maybe Bill Richardson or a similar unknown with little political baggage would be a good choice.
really, really enjoyed Suzy Hansen’s recent article “Surrender the Green”
27-July 4]. My father is a retired teaching pro, and I, like Ms. Hansen, was raised on a golf course (also in New Jersey). When all of my friends’ dads were getting into their station wagons wearing suits to commute to banking jobs in the city, my father—wearing green pants and a pink Lacoste shirt—was getting into his convertible Thunderbird to drive the three minutes from our house to the pro shop.
night during the summer, we all played golf as a family, with the usual hangers-on as part of the group. We played until it got so dark you couldn’t see the ball. As kids we caddied by pushing (or pulling) the grown-ups’ golf carts for 10 cents a hole and a dime tip for a total of $1. (We could only get in nine holes at night.) I wonder if Ms. Hansen remembers how the fairways and greens smelled at dusk. The club was the central spot for all our activities.
In the winter, we went sleigh riding. On the fourth of July, we would—after playing golf, of course—have a cookout and lie on the tee box of the first hole and watch the fireworks from surrounding towns. (An added bonus: The bats would come out from the barns.) Pinehurst for us was a pilgrimage site, with my father and his foursome going to play once every year. He sometimes played with Davis Love Jr. I told this to Davis Love III. (I produced a documentary film for the World Golf Hall of Fame and he was in it.) I just wanted Ms. Hansen to know that her article had such resonance. Thank You.
We even had a dog named Bogie! He was a stray someone abandoned at the club.
fact, thinking about it, all our family dogs and cats were club strays.
T. Billy Jr.