BLUNDELLSANDS, LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND – It was somewhere along the front nine of the West Lancashire Golf Club after the blustering 25-mile per hour gusts turned from directly in my face to a ferocious crosswind when I broke into the widest smile of the week. Once again, I had returned to my beloved northwest coast of England for another four rounds of golf amidst the...
I shed a tear as I wrote this piece. We lost my beloved Dad this weekend. The son of Italian immigrants, as a WWII vet, he landed at Normandy, survived the bloody Battle of the Bulge, and liberated those persecuted in German concentration camps. Later, in the war-time ski patrol in Europe, he skied the Alps before he returned to America to graduate from the College...