In 1937, the cremated remains of Charles Beach, founder of Olympia Fields Country Club south of Chicago, were spread from a biplane above the club’s then-four golf courses. Beach happened to be a bit of a kook. After identifying the excellent terrain for golf on which the club was built, he lost his focus a bit and essentially became a ward of the club, living for years on a small stipend in an upstairs room. “He was the crazy uncle in the attic,” said club historian Robert Topel, who is also a University of Chicago economics professor.  Be that as it may, Beach seems to have started a tradition at Olympia Fields. During my first visit to the club in advance of the 2003 U.S. Open, our early-morning dewsweeper group discovered ashy remains strewn on the 3rd green. “Yes, a lot of our members are out there,” Topel confirmed. Brian Morrison, the director of golf at Olympia Fields, told me during a visit last month, in advance of the U.S. Amateur in August, that he has instructed his family to spread his remains in the upper left corner of the 14th green. “It’s my favorite place on earth,” Morrison said.  Olympia Fields is far from the only golf course honored by the remains of avid golfers. In 1998, the ashes of Alan Shepard, the astronaut who hit two golf balls on the moon, were spread along with those of his wife from a Navy helicopter over Stillwater Cove in front of their home in Pebble Beach, Calif. Some of those ashes certainly drifted onto Shepard’s beloved Pebble Beach golf course, according to Adam Clayman, an eyewitness.  The spreading of ashes, or “wildcat scattering” as it’s known in the cremation industry, is of questionable legality when done on private property without permission. But that stops hardly anyone. Phil Young, author of the definitive history of Bethpage Black on Long Island, N.Y., said that hundreds of golfers’ remains have been spread over the years on the Black and its four sibling courses at Bethpage State Park. “It’s not permitted, but the park does nothing to impede the practice,” said Young. (Reached for comment, a spokesman for the park said, “The official policy is that we don’t allow it and I can only comment on that policy.”)  Cremation is on the rise in the U.S., approaching 50% nationwide and much higher in many states, according to the Cremation Association of North America. However much non-golfers may snigger, it’s as natural for the families of dedicated players to seek a favorite hole or golf course for ash spreading as it is for the families of hikers to seek out a mountaintop or the families of sailors a bay.  Best-selling author James Patterson, an avid golfer himself, includes an ash-spreading scene in his recent novel, “Miracle at Augusta,” co-written with Peter de Jonge. “I thought that scene was nicely emotional,” Patterson said in a phone interview. “It’s all of us. I’ve lost a couple of golf buddies.”  For the more traditionally minded, however, there are options. About five years ago a cemetery executive in Bellevue, Wash., named Arne Swanson played golf behind a family that stopped mid-round to spread the ashes of a loved one. Recognizing a possible new market niche, he created a dedicated golf section at Sunset Hills Memorial Park and Funeral Home in Bellevue. The centerpiece is a golf green with bunker, surrounded by small plots where golfers’ remains can be inurned. The golf section includes a water hazard, a “leaderboard” with plaques to memorialize the deceased, a ball washer and a putter with balls for the use of mourners. “Most golfers wish they could spend more time on the course…How does an eternity sound?” reads the Sunset Hills brochure. “‘Green fees’ start at $800.”  “Spreading ashes is a wonderful idea, but what do you do later when you want to console yourself? Where’s the permanence?” said Steven Wetmore, a current executive at Sunset Hills.  Golf-themed memorial services are also an option. “Baby boomers are changing the dynamics of funerals. The trend is away from church hymns and more toward a celebration of life,” said Michael Schoedinger, president of the multi-location Schoedinger Funeral and Cremation Services in Columbus, Ohio.  One common practice, Schoedinger said, is to place a bowl of golf balls, suitably logo-ed to honor the deceased, near the registration book and encourage guests to take one. Golf caskets are also available, including one painted to look like a sleeve of golf balls and another, called “Fairway to Heaven,” emblazoned with a bucolic golf course scene.  Schoedinger’s most memorable memorial was for a nonagenarian. Nine artifical putting strips, one for each decade of his life, were placed throughout the funeral home. Guests were given a putter and ball and learned about the deceased’s life, through artifacts and memorabilia on display, as they completed their nine-hole round.  Even Donald Trump is getting into the game. Recently his Trump National Golf Club in Bedminster, N.J., received the permits necessary to build a cemetery near the 14th hole of its New Course. The plots will primarily be for members  “I talked to some of the members. ‘You guys are here all day long. You love the place. Wouldn’t you want to be buried here?’” Trump told me on the phone this week. “At first they said it was a terrible idea, but later they came over and said, ‘That’s a great idea.’”  Does Trump himself want to be buried there? “Honestly I don’t even know. I hate thinking about it. I’m in this dilemma, I have so many great places,” he said, referring to the 20 golf clubs he owns worldwide. What about spreading his ashes on all the courses? “Maybe, but again, I hate to think about it. It’s depressing,” Trump said.
A matter of golf and death: More and more golf courses across America are accommodating families with memorial options for avid players.