April 4, 1990 -- A Brief Visit To Heaven
Augusta National Golf Club is as majestic as everyone says. With Magnolia Lane, the perfectly manicured green grass, and the history of The Masters, it is a place every golfer must go at least once.
I went on a Wednesday, for a practice round, and paid $20.00 at the gate to get in. As years went by, I began to hear that you had to get in a lottery and hopefully one day get tickets, at a very high price. But that was not my experience at all.
Here I am on the tee at the famous par-3 16th hole.
Heaven.
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May 26, 1990 -- "What Are You Doing For The Next 50 Years?"
It wasn't really a "date." Kathy Armacost had just graduated from Miami and her parents were throwing a party. I had been invited, as had my parents. And Kim Terrill had been invited, since she was such a close friend of the family. Around 8 o'clock, after having been there an hour, Kim had to take her three-old son Adam to a friend's house and, well, I just happened to have purchased a brand new car that day, so I offered to drive them.
We didn't go back to the party; we went to see McGuffey Lane perform at a nightclub instead.
So even if it wasn't considered a date in the beginning, that's what it ended up being. It would forever be our answer in any Newlywed Game we would ever play.
In some ways, we both felt so "old," meeting at that time in our lives. But I was only 29 years old; and she was only 28.
Best thing that ever happened to me. Beautiful, fun, caring.
I chuckle every time I watch "Rocky," because he was as much of a klutz as me when it comes to women. When it came time to ask Adrianne to marry him, he said, "What are you doing for the next 50 years?"
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July 8, 1990 -- City Champion! Wow.
Eight years earlier, I was in the same situation -- in the final group, in the lead, playing with Jeff Smith in the Franklin City Golf Tournament. In 1982, I blew a three-shot lead and then lost the tournament in the second hold of sudden death. But this time was different.
This time, I pulled it out, marking the first time in my life -- at age 29 -- that I won a golf tournament. This was a big deal to me.
I was playing some of the best golf of my life, in large part because I had joined Wildwood Golf Club in Middletown, which had been our home course when I played at Miami-Middletown. There was a string of about six weeks when I didn't shoot anything higher than a 73.
So when I came back to Franklin to play in the City, I was confident -- and it showed. For me, this was awesome.
Finally, a win.
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August 9, 1990 -- "No, He's Not Talking To Anybody."
It was 1:33 p.m., and I was told Judge Fedders was on the telephone for me. An inmate at Lebanon Correctional Institute was being questioned by authorities from Hillsborough County, Florida about a string of unsolved murders down there. He wanted a lawyer. It wasn't as if Judge Fedders was asking me if I had time to go see. Rather, it was more of an order. So at 3:00 I walked through the front gates at LCI.
I spent more than an hour talking with Oscar Ray Bolen, and when I left his cell I had a half-dozen detectives waiting to see if they could resume their questioning of the prime suspect. I told them in no uncertain terms he wasn't going to talk to anybody, so the show was over.
Within days, the client was indicted in Florida, meaning Warren County would eventually have an extradition hearing -- which Judge Bronson appointed me to handle. For weeks I got phone calls and interview requests from news agencies from all over, hoping I could give them some hint of what Mr. Bolen had to say.
On September 28, 1990, the extradition hearing was held in front of a full array of cameras. Mr. Bolen tried to get a continuance by saying he wanted a different lawyer, but because there are only two elements to this kind of a hearing (1 -- is there a pending case in Florida, and 2 -- is this the guy who is charge) Judge Bronson did not put up with such a request.
I'm told lawyers like the limelight.
Hmmm, I can't say I enjoyed it very much at all.
