How Did I Get Here?

This is an article that was published in the Philadelphia Association of Golf Course Superintendents' monthly newsletter "The Bonnie Greensward" in 2007.

Editors Note:
The article below is a tribute to two PAGCS members who left this earth in 2007. Richie Valentine passed away on May 29th  and his dear friend Barney McFadden passed away on July 31st. 

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself with a beautiful house and a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself, well.....How did I get here?
-From the song "Once in a Lifetime" Talking Heads

       We all reach a point in time when we reflect on where we are in life and whether or not we are where we thought we would be . Sometimes, this reflection borders on a birthday with a zero on the end or accompanies the passing of someone who has had an impact on us and our career path. Recently, as I was driving along, and was one of the few times I was not thinking about what I would do with my future Powerball winnings, I began thinking about " How did I get here?".
       When you talk at length with anyone in the turf industry, the conversation always comes around to how you got started and who you worked for over the years. For me, my first connection to the golf industry was through my older brother, Joe, who had worked for Richie Valentine at Merion Golf Club during the 1981 US Open.
        In 1987, I was looking I was looking for  new job. Yes, the thought of Augustus Gloop working in the chocolate factory for Willy Wonka came to mind. Instead, my brother called Richie's' right hand man, Charlie Carr, and helped me get a job at Merion. I was lucky to be on the crew for the 1989 US Amateur. This job helped lead me to my job with the Philadelphia Turf Company by introducing me to Barney McFadden.
      When you connect the dots and look at where you have come from and how you got to where you are, there are always key people at turning points in your life who have had a major impact. Along with many in the Philadelphia area, Richie Valentine was one of those people for me.
       The older I get, the more I realize how fortunate I was to have worked for a legendary figure such as Richie. While working at Merion, and came to the conclusion that my plans to be a radio DJ were fading, I decided that I wanted a sales job in the golf business. This is where Barney McFadden comes in.
       I would always see Barney on his sales calls to Merion and ask him to get me a job with Toro. Ok, maybe I would yell to Barney "get me a job!". When there was an opening in Central Pennsylvania, Barney helped me get the job and later helped me with sales training. Barney retired from PTC in 1997 after 42 years of service. He received the Master Salesman Award from Toro. (Only one award is given each year to the top salesman in the United States for Toro,)
       Barney and Richie were great men. The similarities between them are striking. Both were great fathers; they both had incredible wives and historic careers, and both had been bitten by the fishing bug. I can still remember pulling into work and seeing the Toro truck in the corner of the parking lot. We all knew that meant Barney and Richie were having a meeting somewhere down the Jersey shore.
       I consider myself very luck to have had these two great men as a part of my career. With the passing of an influential person in your life, you always wish you had done more to say thank you. I hope that by writing this piece, it might be a way of posthumously saying to Barney and Richie: "thank you to two legends who are probably sitting boat somewhere up in heaven together enjoying the best fishing ever."


WJC