Mr. President, I want to share with my colleagues an article in Golf Journal about the Ford family from my hometown of Charleston, South Carolina. Since 1927, the Ford family has won a number of golf tournaments including 10 Azalea…
Mr. President, I want to share with my colleagues an article in Golf Journal about the Ford family from my hometown of Charleston, South Carolina. Since 1927, the Ford family has won a number of golf tournaments including 10 Azalea Invitationals, 10 South Carolina or Carolina Amateur crowns, 20-some city titles and 50 club championships. I am proud to recognize this talented family, and I ask that this article be reprinted in the Record.
The article follows:
[From Golf Journal, Jan.-Feb., 2003]
Model Tee Fords
(By Rich Skyzinski)
The Fords of Charleston, S.C., much like the Kennedys of
Massachusetts or the Baldwins of Hollywood, have a family
tradition. For nearly a century, one generation after another
has been reared by a philosophy handed down much like an old
family recipe. The motto on the family crest ought to read,
If you want to be good at something, play golf.
Role models have never been lacking. If any Ford
demonstrated a desire for golf, he or she didn't need to look
far for inspiration or instruction. Good golf genes have
blessed generations, dating most notably to the second of
five men named Frank Cordes Ford. Now 98, Frank Sr. (actually
the second FCF) was the most accomplished of the Fords, and
he can prove it. He can still rattle off a lot of the
stories, in rapid-fire fashion: the games with Bob Jones,
Harry (Lighthorse) Cooper, Henry Picard and Craig Wood; how
he won a dollar bill (signed and framed) from Horton Smith;
the day he one-upped the great Ben Hogan by hitting a 4-wood
to within eight inches of the hole after Hogan hit a 3-wood
shot to eight feet from virtually the same fairway location.
If ever a forebear set a standard for his progenies to
shoot at, it's Granddaddy (Frank Sr.). He made sure any
challenger was in it for the long haul. How else could you
top his record of seven South Carolina Amateur crowns (and
three runner-up finishes), four Azalea Invitational
victories, 11 Charleston City titles and 18 Country Club of
Charleston championships?
``The Ford family is known, certainly in the city and
probably around the state, because of golf,'' says Bert
Atkinson, 1991 U.S. Mid-Amateur runner-up and a C.C. of
Charleston member. ``I think it's probably always been that
way.''
If you are a Charleston golfer, at one time or another, a
Ford has beaten you. Since 1927, family members have won 10
Azaleas, 10 South Carolina or Carolinas Ams, 20-some city
titles and 50 club championships, give or take a few. An
extra room would be needed for all the junior, mid-amateur
and team trophies.
How did this all start? Tommy Ford, one of Granddaddy's
three sons, claims it was not planned.
``No family ever gets together and says, `Here is what
we're going to do,' '' says the 58-year-old. ``It comes to
you; you deal with it. If you become good, you try to live up
to it. When you play well, the headlines start to reinforce
this idea that you're living up to your dad's records. And
all of a sudden you are, not that you ever tried. But you're
fulfilling a pattern that started 60 years ago.''
Granddaddy speaks from the other side of the equation. ``I
think they saw the fun I got out of golf,'' he allows, ``and
maybe some of them wanted to play because they thought it
would be fun. Most of them worked pretty hard at it.''
It isn't ``a guy thing,'' either. Granddaddy's mother, Anne
(Sissie) Ford, who moved to Charleston following her
husband's death in 1918, won the C.C. of Charleston Women's
championship in 1927. A year later, she lost in the final to
her daughter, Anne Ford Melton.
And family members also are quick to credit Granddaddy's
wife, Betsy. She was a caring, nurturing mentor who made the
game what it should be for kids: fun. She also was an
accomplished player, collecting a half-dozen club
championships and two city titles.
Betsy, who died in 1998, and her husband played different
roles in advancing the family tradition. She had a deep love
for the game and passed it down to scores of youngsters. She
helped her three sons and any grandchildren or great-
grandchildren who wanted to play the game and was involved
in many club and city youth programs. Once a youngster
became proficient enough to break 80, Granddaddy would
begin to share his passion and try to light their
competitive fires.
``I don't remember any pressure or push, other than the
brilliance of a mother, who believed that we should know a
little about the game at the age we were,'' Tommy says.
``There was a nudge towards lessons during the summer, but it
was also, `Go hunting. Do whatever you want to do' from
her.''
Sarah (Mahony) Ford Rijswijk, Frank Jr.'s widow, adds,
``She said, ``If you marry into the Ford family, dear, you'd
better play golf.' . . . I thought they were a little nuts
because I played tennis. But I took up golf and Betsy was the
one who led me into the game. She was the most wonderful
teacher. She had a beautiful swing, classic, and was one of
the few people I know who was really interested in your game,
everybody's game. She really helped everybody. She was the
consummate golfer.''
Betsy's favorite classroom was the par-3 11th hole at the
Country Club of Charleston. The hole is a classic Seth Raynor
design with the green elevated some 10 or 12 feet and sharp
drop-offs on each side. Betsy, a.k.a. Granny, would take a
youngster to the bottom of the slope in front of the green
and show them how to chip with a 7-iron. They would practice
that shot over and over until the youngster could bump a shot
into the hillside with an artisan's touch.
It's been more than 40 years since Frank III was tutored
there by his grandmother but, he says, ``I remember that to
this day. She taught me to chip, and I've never chipped with
a wedge or a sand wedge like so many guys do. I'm going to
grab my 7-iron because that's what she taught me.''
Even if a youngster had only a passing interest in the
game, Betsy made her mark. Billy Ford, her middle son,
recalls going out for a round with his son, Billy Jr., whom
he thought was a novice, but evoked a double take with his
confident practice swing on the first tee.
``Where'd you learn that?'' his father asked.
``Granny,'' he replied proudly. ``Granny taught me.''
Betsy rarely commented on any of the youngsters' successes,
but they could sense her pride when they did well.
``She could instill desire, which I think is a hard thing
to do,'' says Sarah. ``I won my first club championship and I
beat her, and I think she was happier about it than I was.''
Granddaddy himself was introduced to the game at age 15, by
his mother and an uncle who lived in Canada. But he learned
swing basics from a group of African-American caddies in
Summerville, S.C. ``They used to say, `This is how you hold
the club. This is the way you stand,' '' he recalls.
He developed a tendency to sway during his backswing
instead of pivoting, but there was little anyone could do to
change this; after all, the swing worked for him. There was a
time when the club's head professional was Henry Picard,
later a Masters and PGA Championship winner. Picard had what
was considered one of the finest swings in the game, but not
even he could convince Granddaddy.
``He said, `I'm going to get you out of this swaying,' ''
he remembers. ``I said, `Now Henry, listen. Don't try to give
me any lessons because you can do whatever you want, but I'm
not going to change my swing.''
``He said, `Okay,' and never again told me how to do it.''
Granddaddy carried that insistence with him to the cement
and concrete business. Tommy tells a story of his dad trying
to sell a prospective customer cement at 20 cents a bag, only
to be told, ``I don't need any cement.'' Ford lowered the
price to 15 cents a bag and, receiving the same reply, went
to 10 cents and then to a nickel.
``The customer finally said he couldn't afford not to buy
it at that price and Dad got a customer for life,'' Tommy
concludes. ``He was the same way in golf as in business. He
wanted to make every sale, and he wanted to win every time he
stepped onto the golf course.''
Granddaddy confined most of his playing to a local and
regional level because he had a business to run. He qualified
for the only U.S. Amateur he entered, in 1934 at The Country
Club in Brookline, Mass., losing in the third round. He
played until he was 90, then gave away his clubs one day
after he shot 45 for nine holes. Atkinson, who played with
him that day, remembers the exchange afterward.
``I said, `That's pretty good playing, Mr. Ford.'''
Atkinson says. ``He put his arm around me and said, `Yeah,
but if I was 30 years younger I would have beaten you guys
butt good.'''
None of Granddaddy's three sons were as passionate about
the game as their father. Tommy blossomed into an
accomplished player later in life, with seven club
championships and a handful of senior titles. Billy was a
good junior player and captain of the University of North
Carolina golf team in 1953, but hasn't competed much since.
Frank Jr., who died at age 44 in a 1974 Eastern Airlines
plane crash, played little competitive golf.
If the old man's competitive fires were passed down, most
of them found their way to Frank III, who has qualified for
nearly a dozen U.S. Amateurs and four U.S. Mid-Amateurs, and
his son, Cordes (Frank Cordes Ford IV), a 26-year-old law
student at the University of South Carolina with his own
collection of trophies. In 1996, Cordes completed a rare
double when he won the Carolinas Amateur a week after Frank
III took the state am. ``They're the two that have the desire
to go out there,'' says Sarah, ``They want to win.''
By contrast, Billy says, ``I'm not trying to win anything
anymore, just have a nice golf day.''
Which isn't to say the patriarch's presence has not been
felt. Billy once was about to close out a match at Biltmore
Forest Country Club in Asheville, N.C., when Granddaddy came
up to him, put his arm around the teenager and said, ``Son,
this is where I won my war bond.''
``Everything's fine. I've got 20 feet for birdie, but I got
it back to here,'' says Billy, imitating a putting stroke,
``and just locked; couldn't move it. It exploded in my hand,
went past the hole about 15 feet. I three-putted that, snap-
hooked it on 16, hit a limb coming out of the woods on 17.
Before I knew it, I went from 5 up with five to play to 1 up
with one to play. It's funny now, but I was in tears then.''
Because of the family's countless successes, there's an
assumption throughout the Carolinas that Fords should be
accomplished players simply because of their last name.
``I felt like I was supposed to play better than whatever I
did,'' says Billy. ``There was certain pressure on me,
sure.''
Tommy, who's a decade younger than his brother, adds:
``Your identity is golf, because you grew up seeing golf and
that's what you gravitated to. But I maintain you do the best
you can for your own expectations, not necessarily for this
family tradition thing. I never wanted to win tournaments to
extend my father's streak.''
Tommy is said to have the best swing in the family. People
in Charleston often call him ``sweet-swingin' Tommy Ford. ''
``The `sweet-swingin' does not always live up to people's
expectations,'' he says. ``They know I'm Frank Ford's son so
they think I am good. They remember what you've accomplished.
You carry that expectation with you more so because of Daddy,
Billy, Frank--the trickle-down effect of the background of
winning. People view us as winners because that's what they
remember Daddy doing, Frank doing, Billy doing. They expect
us to be hard to beat. That's a little bit difficult
sometimes.''
Frank III's sister, Anne Ford Strickland, lived near
Winston-Salem, N.C., for years and says the difference in the
pressure she felt was palpable. ``I never felt anything up
there,'' she insists. ``Part of it may have been because I
had my married name. people didn't know me by Ford.''
The Fords have never called attention to their exploits.
Sometimes, even family members are unaware of them. Anne
played in a C.C. of Charleston girls' program with Beth
Daniel, who went on to become an LPGA Hall of Famer and a
favorite of Anne's son David. Looking through Anne's
scrapbooks, David came upon a newspaper clipping about his
mom's victory over Daniel in a junior club championship in
the mid-1960s.
``You beat Beth Daniel?'' he asked, eyes widening.
What do you expect? She is a Ford.