1995 -- A Year Of Beginnings

June 19, 1995 -- Welcome To The World, Chloe

Kim told me, "You think you know love, but you don't. Until you become a parent, you really don't know what it means to love someone." She also joked, "Why would we want to have a child? We'll have her every weekend, so we won't have our time together like we do now when Adam goes to his dad's." On June 19, 1995, after a full day of inducing labor, little Chloe arrived at 5:22 p.m. -- just in time for happy hour, as I like to say. She was beautiful and everyone loved her from the first minute they saw her. With Adam, I had already become a dad several years earlier. So now with Chloe I had double the joy.

Life is good.

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April 16, 1995 -- Wait! This Is Church?

I was in Biloxi, Mississippi, on my annual golf trip with Chic, Mo, and Silk. Meanwhile, Kim (who was six months pregnant) was in Southern California visiting Tina. We talked on the phone on Sunday night. "Oh, it was so cool. We went to a church that was so relaxed, with great music, and a meaningful message." And I was like, "Ok. Wow." She had been to Saddleback, whose lead pastor is Rick Warren.

When she returned to Ohio, she kept talking about how much she loved this church service. And she said to someone, "I wish they had a church like that around here."

Someone responded, "They do. It's right there over on South Valley. It's called SouthBrook." 

On Easter Sunday, we went to SouthBrook -- with Kim wearing her best Easter dress and me in a suit and tie -- to check it out.

We loved it. Absolutely. 

Didn't wear the suit and tie anymore, though.

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June 7, 1995 -- A Nomination That Would Last 22 Years

 

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August 27, 1995 -- "Sudden Death" In The First Springboro City Golf Championship

It was, without a doubt, the biggest putt of my life. It was on the 9th (now 18th) hole at Heatherwoode in the second and final round of the first-ever Springboro City Golf Championship. I was on the green in two, a good 40 feet from the hole, with a putt that broke left and first but then twisted back to the right near the end.

I was not playing particularly well, and I was hopeful just to get down in two and finish with a 40, and then hope to play a little better on the back. I had no real illusions about winning the tournament.

And then I made the putt. I was surprised more than I was happy, because I just don't make 40-footers. It lifted my spirits, shifted my focus, and gave me a shot of momentum just when I needed it. I shot 37 on the back to find myself in a playoff with Kenny Parker.

I love Kenny. We've played golf together for years. So I wasn't so much motivated to beat him; I just didn't want to embarrass myself in the playoff. There must have been 50 people following us, which is a lot for a hack like me. As I walked up the first fairway, I looked over at Bill Kumle, the pro at Heatherwoode at the time, and told him how nerve-wracking it was to have so many people watching.

He immediately calmed me down. "Jeff, everyone who is watching shot higher scores than you did," he said. "They're the ones who are embarassed because they're not in the playoff."

Kenny and I both parred the first and second holes. Then I won it on the short par-3 third, when I hit a 9-iron to 2 feet.

Sweet!

October 15, 1995 -- Moving Day, into the office Dad considered his crowning achievement.