The good neighbor profession

It doesn’t seem like more than 50 years have gone by since Julius Baumgartner’s dairy barn burned down. The fire lit up the night sky, and we all knew the village’s volunteer fire department had little chance of saving it.

Water had to be trucked in by tankers, dumped, and then pumped onto the fire. The barn was full of hay (it was autumn), providing lots of fuel. Fortunately, livestock loss was minimal as I recall. But the feed for winter was gone, and so was a place to milk the cows. It took no time for my Dad to tell Julius, “We’ll get set up for you to milk your cows in our barn.”

We had segregated pastures to keep the two herds apart, and since milk was hauled in 10-gallon milk cans it was easy to keep track of the milk. Neighbors rolled in with feed, offered to help milk and do chores, and to get the mess caused by the fire cleaned up. These efforts by lots of people gave Julius and Hilda time to figure out a solution to their future. We were happy to help; as Dad said, “That’s what good neighbors do.”

Similar circumstances were fairly common in rural communities. I know of a farmer who had a heart attack; the neighbors descended on his farm to do chores, pick and crib the corn, and even do the fall plowing, all in two days. They took care of the outside work until the family could come up with a plan to move forward.

The 1930s, 40s and 50s were days of unusually strong community sentiment, especially in the rural areas. It’s faded a lot since most people now live in cities. There are few farms left anymore, and most of them are big operators with backup systems that didn’t exist in the days of my youth.

Back then, the term “good neighbor” had an almost academic meaning. President Roosevelt used the term “Good Neighbor Policy” to describe his foreign policy of non-intervention and trade reciprocity with Latin America. Most citizens knew exactly what the president meant.

Those of us who manage golf courses also know what it means, and we have been on both ends of being a good neighbor.

In the first month of my career I was confronted with a shop and facilities that needed massive work and cleanup before we could begin getting ready for the new season, which was only three months away. I had no dump truck and only one employee, until my neighbors pitched in. They helped me get off to a good start.

Every year it seems we hear of a shop fire that destroys equipment and material of a golf course. And every time the local superintendents show up and help restore the operation to a point where it can function, even if on a short-term basis. Among golf course superintendents, cooperation is widespread, well understood and very often practiced. We cooperate and help one another because it is good for our colleagues and it is good for the game.
   
This year’s U.S. Open at Merion reminded the entire golf world, again, of the wonderful attitude among superintendents. Half of Matt Shaffer’s tournament staff was volunteers and among them were golf course superintendents. I saw the same thing last year when I attended the Masters in Augusta. I visited with three supers who were allowed to leave their home course to help out. Talk about good neighbors!

It is curious I settled in a town whose motto is “The Good Neighbor City.” We have an annual “Good Neighbor” festival, and around Labor Day we get to watch the “Good Neighbor” parade. All are good reminders of what makes a good community.

I know that next year Pinehurst will have some highly qualified volunteers when they host the Open. Good neighbor activities, I suspect, don’t happen in law offices, among CPAs, or at grocery stores. Can you imagine realtors pitching in to help one another? It doesn’t seem likely.

But for us it is an oft-repeated story with only slightly differing details. Each demonstrates that we are, by our attitudes and actions, “The Good Neighbor Profession.”

That is something to be very proud of.