The Pedernales
& A round with Willie

A unique golf course and an even more unique Texan made for a memorable round of golf.

My life flashed before my eyes!

It was December 19, 1985, a day that will live in my mind forever. I was on the 6th hole at Pedernales Country Club in Spicewood, Texas, the very famous home course of Willie Nelson and, at the time, I guess, one of the most exclusive golf courses, claiming only 50 members worldwide. I remember the date clearly, as it was my birthday, and what a treat it was to be spending it with Willie! Up to that moment, the day was going wonderfully. I was a fledgling golfer, chatting with Willie and enjoying my newfound status of representing three counties and his hometown in the state legislature.

It all began after being invited by a new acquaintance and local resident, Stacy, to play. I felt incredibly lucky when, upon arrival, Willie had just come back from tour and walked into the pro shop while I was there.

After a brief conversation and relaying my new importance to him, having been elected to represent three counties, which included his hometown of Abbott, a month before, I asked if he would like to join us. He first hesitated, mumbling something about time, so I moved on with, “Nice meeting you.” (I was thrilled just to have done so.) As we were getting into our carts and heading to the first hole, I heard a roar and saw Willie pulling up in his red, “looks like a Rolls Royce” golf cart, with a friendly, “I think I will join you.”

I was ecstatic. I will forever remember how this American icon was dressed that day, which I found amazingly impressive. He was wearing gray cotton warm-ups that had not been close to a washing machine for quite some time and old blue tennis shoes, and I must emphasize old. It fit everything I have come to know about him and what seems to be the constant Willie: kind of “what you see is what you get.” I find it very admirable that his self-image allows him to be himself, and nothing I learned that day or afterward would change my opinion. In fact, everything I have learned since has only made him grow larger in my mind.

Pedernales Country Club is a small nine-hole course off Highway 71 west of Austin (according to Willie, only eight songs from Austin). It has rolling terrain and is quite picturesque, with deer everywhere, slowing play, but always worth it. The groundskeepers are an interesting group, known as “Field Hippies.” It was always said that if you tarried too long by the groundskeepers’ shed, you would get high. I would never argue the point, having played a few balls in close proximity. The crusty pro, Larry Trader, whom I also had the pleasure of playing with once, and his brother Bob were always pleasant and helpful. It is a relatively hard course (all are hard for me). I have played there a number of times since, allowing people like Darryl Royal and Earl Campbell to play through, but none as memorable as that day. I will never forget the ’70s-model white Chevy pickup truck emblazoned with hundreds of autographs from famous celebrities, actors, singers, and band members used by all at the course. I have often wondered whatever happened to that truck and think it should be in the Smithsonian!

I have played many better-kept and more picturesque golf courses, but none I am happier to say I played than Pedernales back then. My memories of Willie are something I will always be fond of if for no other reason than that, of all the hundreds of famous people I have been fortunate enough to meet (and there have been hundreds), there was no discernible ego. I must say my golf game that day did some damage to mine, however. On to the first nine.

Willie is quite a good golfer. His drive is not real long but always straight; his short game good; his putting and golf manners as well. The rules of the course and scorecard lay out that he thinks golf should be fun.

A look at the rules is in order:

• When another player is shooting, no player should talk, whistle, hum, clink coins, or pass gas.
• Don’t play until the group in front is out of the way.
• Excessive displays of affection are discouraged.
• Violators must replace divots and will be penalized five strokes.
• Replace divots, smooth footprints in bunkers, brush back trail with branches, park car under brush, and have the office tell your spouse you’re in a conference.
• Let faster groups play through.
• On the putting green, don’t step on another line.
• Freebies are not recommended for players with short putts.
• No more than twelve in your foursome.
• Gambling is forbidden, of course, unless you’re stuck or need a legal deduction for charitable or educational expenses.
• Carts are not allowed within 20 feet of traps or aprons surrounding greens.
• No bikinis, mini-skirts, skimpy see-through, or sexually exploitative attire allowed. Except on women.
• Please leave the course in the condition in which you would like to be found.
• PAR is whatever Willie is shooting.

USGA Rules govern play except where amended by a local rule. A ball lying in a road, gravel, or a topped cart trail, or within a club length of such, may be dropped two club lengths from the original lie at a point not nearer the hole or fairway without penalty. A ball lying in a ground crack may be lifted without penalty and dropped back one club length on line with the ball and flagstick. Water hazards are indicated by yellow stakes. Out-of-bounds lines are marked by fence or white stakes.

• Pedernales Stroll: Rule as amended states that if you don’t like your lie, you must yell “Stroll” before you pick it up and put it where you would like it to be.

Given my game, those rules were very helpful to me. However, I think they also explain my take on Willie’s outlook on life. Golf and life should be fun, and generosity is not only material, it is also of spirit. Willie is someone I met only a couple of times, but like most Texans, he has had an impact on me.

Now on to golf. The first six holes were uneventful other than pleasant conversation and the speed at which we were playing. I think his cart would go 75 mph! Then came what is now the infamous 6th green to me. As we were putting, one of Willie’s band members, I think his name was Beau, pulled up in the aforementioned Chevy truck and said, “Hey Willie, I scored some Gold!” And I had my “Oh Shit” moment. As I envisioned Cuervo Gold or Acapulco Gold, I just knew the pipe or “dubies” would soon be at hand. (Those were the names of pot I was familiar with because of TV!) Thinking, I am in the Legislature, I can’t be party to this illegal act! Not wanting to insult Willie but paranoid and desperately not knowing what to do.

Relief came instantaneously as Beau brought out a bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold and handed it to Willie. I think at that moment I was the most relieved guy in the whole state of Texas! Willie deposited it in his cart, and we passed it around and finished it by the end of the front nine. (I didn’t know Willie drank alcohol until that moment.)

We started the back nine, and the next five holes were more of the same, but perhaps a little looser as the three of us were well lubricated. Then again came the 6th. After a bad drive, a second shot from the rough, and a chip to below the elevated green, I was looking at a bad lie deep in leaves, well below the green, and could barely see the top of the flag as I addressed the ball. Willie walked over to tend.

Desperately wanting to recover on this hole and impress, I knew I had to get under it, plow through, and elevate. Of course, I bladed the ball! Did I mention my life flashing before my eyes? I actually saw the headlines announcing Willie’s death with my name strongly attached! What I also saw at about the same time were the old blue tennis shoes in the air! Willie was kind of standing on his head getting out of the way.

I don’t remember much else except my embarrassment and humiliation. Did I mention Willie is very agile for a man of his age? I should have. Not only agile, but of a temperament all should respect. He got up, dusted himself off with just a glance in my direction. I am presuming he could see my depth of shame and probably thought, “I should never have agreed to play with this rube.”

One of the reasons I have such great respect for him was his kindness. He did have a putter in hand. If he had raised or chosen to use it, I would have probably dutifully bowed my head and allowed it, ala Dwight Yoakam in Sling Blade. It wasn’t mentioned. We played the next three holes as my golf got worse and worse. As the round finished and I said goodbye to Stacy, who by this time was probably wanting to forget he was the inviter, I packed up my clubs, humbly thanking them for the round.

At that moment, the late, great Johnny Gimble walked up and told Willie he had been working on their collaboration. Another thrill for me, as I have admired Johnny Gimble my whole life. You can’t know much about country music and its history without knowing Johnny Gimble. I will always remember him as amazingly gentle and humble. After being introduced by Willie and a short conversation about where I was from, I discovered he remembered my grandfather and several others from my small hometown and memories of the hard-scrabble life they shared.

Knowing he was there to write with Willie, I again said my goodbyes. I will always remember the kindness and thoughtfulness of Willie, who looked at me and said, “We are going to the studio to write. Would you like to join us?” I was blown away. I am not sure why, maybe because I had shared some lyrics from a song I was writing, “Seasons of the Heart,” and even offered them to him. I later wrote him a letter of thanks with the lyrics and sent them as a gift, thinking that if he ever used a word or idea of mine I would feel honored. As a songwriter, I have thought about that many times over the years. What an honor it would have been to watch them write a song together. I stayed for a while, listened, and even picked up Willie’s old Martin guitar, “Trigger.”

But after an hour or so, I had to leave. There has always been a tradition in my family that we go out to dinner to celebrate each person’s birthday, and as I had a 100-mile drive, I needed to get on the road. So often I have thought, what if I had stayed? I didn’t hear back from Willie about the lyrics. I put them on hold and didn’t finish the song until I recorded it in 1994.

Memories from that day are special to me, and my respect for Willie has only grown since. Until I die, I will always remember “the headlines that flashed” and “the old blue tennis shoes in the air.”

I think as the whole country has gotten to know him better, he has become not only a Texas icon but also an American icon. Willie seems nonjudgmental, but I think the country has made its judgment about Willie, whether it is smoking marijuana or taxes, and in essence it is okay.

A year or so later, Willie would testify before a legislative committee on pesticides. When asked whom he was representing, he responded, paraphrasing, “Because they can’t speak for themselves, I am representing the jackrabbits, armadillos, and horny toads.”

In the early 1990s, my time in the Legislature had come and gone, but my admiration for Willie Hugh Nelson had only grown. Willie again captured headlines with a $16.7 million debt to the IRS. To most people, paying taxes is a patriotic thing to do, but in this case the public was ho-hum about the tax debt and most clearly came down on the side of Willie. It seemed to many that the government was ganging up on him, and people wanted to come to his rescue. I think the whole state, perhaps the whole nation, has always wanted to say a collective “thank you” to Willie, as he has spoken for us in what he writes and who he is. Speaking for myself, that certainly expresses my feelings.

During that time, many Texans revered Willie, and there were efforts to help him pay off his debts, although he never asked for help. Everyone knows about Farm Aid and the Fourth of July concerts, but The Daily Beast listed 25 most charitable celebrities and scored Willie as “The Most Charitable Texan.” It also lists 16 other charities he supports.

Darryl Royal bought Pedernales from the Internal Revenue Service for $117,375.00 and offered it back to Willie anytime he wanted it.

One of the efforts I participated in was a fundraiser and auction that occurred at the legendary dance hall, the Broken Spoke, organized by owner James White. Willie had played there, as had almost every other band in country music history. I only remember two of the items auctioned, but never forget the sentiment of the crowd.

I brought something I thought would be of value to Texans, a keepsake I valued even though I had only spent $10.00 to acquire it. It was a flag that flew over the State Capitol on March 2, 1986 (Texas Sesquicentennial). Two men got in a bidding war, and it sold for $6,600.00. The sesquicentennial celebrated Texas’ annexation by the United States, although it would not become a state for nine more years, December 29, 1845. Jaston Williams and Joe Sears of Greater Tuna fame were also there, lending a hand and auctioning off a hat from the play. There were other efforts across Texas, with few knowing how difficult it would be to raise that much money. I think many simply felt the need to help. Money is a relative thing, and I suppose many who made the effort had their own reasons.

I have heard that “Death only comes when no one is left to remember you.” If that is so, Willie will live in the hearts of Texans forever.

As for me, I am still trying to thank him for his kindness to me, but also grateful that in addition to me, he took the time for jackrabbits, armadillos, and horny toads. While I can’t say I know Willie well, I can say I’ve met him and formed an opinion. He is a man to be admired and a great Texan.