JANUARY 1, 2026

“The very purpose of Christ’s coming into the world was that he might offer up his life as a sacrifice for the sins of men.  He came to die.  This is the heart of Christmas.”

— Reverend Billy Graham.

English and Holland finally returned last evening. Dudley and I were thrilled. They had a wonderful time in South Carolina with Gram and Rufe. That was nice. But it is so much nicer having them home. All is right in the world again.

On their way home, English and Holland stopped at Buc-ee’s South of Harrisonburg. They braved the crowds so that Holland could share the experience of a Texas sized convenience store with her Mother. They brought me a bag of Beaver Nuggets. I don’t know what they are, but they are delicious. It is kind of a mish mash of a cracker jack, cheese puff, and Corn Pops cereal. It is crunchy, firm, and sweet, but not too sweet. Darnedest thing I have eaten in quite some time. I’d buy some on my next trip to Staunton, but I really don’t want to brave the crowds just for a bag of Beaver Nuggets.

In both review of 2025, and looking forward to 2026, I wish to share the story of a good friend. This young man was originally from upstate New York, went to school in the Deep South [Mississippi State], and returned home to New York after graduation, finding nothing to secure his future. Finally, his father, a stern, but kind, caring, and loving man, gave his son some money, a tank of gas in his car, and told him to leave home. There was nothing there for him anymore, and he needed to find his way in the world.

The young man began driving South, back to the only other place he knew, with no plans and no prospects. He stopped at a gas station in Bristol, Virginia. As he was walking back to his car, he realized it was almost dark, and that he had nowhere to stay. He remembered that a girlfriend’s brother lived in Danville, Virginia, and that she had urged him to look her brother up in his travels. So the young man took out a quarter, dialed the number on a pay phone, and was soon invited to stop by the brother’s house. Just one problem; Danville, Virginia is 4 hours away from Bristol, today. It was further in the late ’70s, due to available roads. Nevertheless, the young man drove to Danville, and his life was changed forever.

The young man soon found purpose in Danville. He became an assistant golf professional at the Danville Country Club, where he also lived, worked hard, and began to prosper. He met the love of his life, married, and raised a beautiful and talented daughter. He rose through the ranks of golf, eventually landing the head golf professional job at The Chatmoss County Club.

At Chatmoss, his reputation flourished further, as he soon established himself as an excellent teacher, a groomer of young golfers’ talent, and reestablishing or improving older golfers’ talent. He walked an incredibly fine line, keeping laid back and high maintenance members happy, never an easy feat. He made friends easily. He coached a local high school golf team. He ran tournaments that people wanted to play in, year after year. He played in the Virginia State Open until the folks at the Mid-Atlantic Professional Golfers Association realized he was really a Carolinas Section professional. He caddied for some of his young charges in tournaments ranging from the VSGA Amateur to the USGA Amateur, and tournaments in between, imparting advice and calm, when necessary. He was a student of the game, learning the straightforward rules, and the inexplicably difficult rules decisions. And at all times, he worked tirelessly as an ambassador for The Chatmoss Country Club, one of the finest golf clubs in the Southeast.

The man was a constant champion of young people. Members were confident leaving their children in his charge, allowing them to work at the Club, where they were taught some many important lessons necessary for later success in life. Today, countless children that came under his tutelage are professional golfers themselves, successful businessmen, skilled amateur golfers, husbands, fathers, and role models in their own right. Over a period of years, the young man touched so many lives; he will never be forgotten. By any measure, the best thing that could have happened to the young man, and to so many others who crossed his path, is that his father sent him packing after college.

The young man was, is, Robert Weinerth. He was the PGA professional at The Chatmoss Country Club for 41 years. Yesterday was his last day, as he has retired. Robert left the shop yesterday for the last time as our pro. We are so grateful for the legacy he leaves behind. His successor has a lot to live up to as he begins his tenure.

Robert is not leaving Chatmoss. He will still be our friend, a member of the Club, and our neighbor. He will still teach golf at the Club, perhaps working harder than he did before his retirement. He is looking forward to the next chapter in his life. So are we. Good luck, and God Bless you, Robert. We love you.

GFK