Legacies on Long Island
In Memory of Two Men Who Were All About Good Works - Both on the Course and OffBy Robert Sullivan
[Reprint of June 2004 Article in U S AIRWAYS Attache']
In mid-June, the U.S. Open will return for the fourth time to the wild-and-woolly links of Shinnecock Hills in Southampton, New York. I'm not here to ponder the Shinnecock course or to discuss the winner. Rather, the Open's return to Long Island prompts me to remember two men, both of them deceased and both of them with legacies in the area - legacies that bear constant testimony to their strength of character and love of golf.
I first met Peter E. Smith and learned his extraordinary story nine years ago when he, as superintendent at Shinnecock, was busily preparing the course for American golf's centennial championship. He was crazed by media requests at the time, and why not? As a 41-year-old, six-foot-one-inch, 275-pound, eloquent, funny, Ivy League-educated, tribal-leading Shinnecock Indian whose native name was Running Bear, Pete Smith was a tale ripe for the telling. "With the hundreth anniversary of the Open, it's absolutely nuts," he told me at the time. "But I don't mind. I like doing it. It's good for the golf course, for my family, for the tribe."
The tribe is the essence of Smith's story, which is a story of traditions and legacies, time moving backward and pressing gently forward in calm, ordered, resonant fashion. Smith wasn't just a groundskeeper when I met him; he was keeper of an ancient flame. As a Shinnecock, he was responsible for the landscaping of sacred ground, terrain once owned and forever tended by his people - tended even since William K. Vanderbilt and his wealthy pals built a golf course on cheaply bought acreage in 1891.
Pete Smith was the son of former superintendent Elmer Smith, who was the son of George Smith, one of the Shinnecocks who helped maintain the original course. Of the 18 men on Smith's crew in 1995, 16 were Native Americans, including Pete's son, Brian. "By keeping the tradition of this course," said Pete, "we are keeping the tradition of our tribe."
Smith was an admirable preservationist of tradition. For instance, he helped Dartmouth College, which was founded as a missionary school dedicated to teaching Native Americans, keep its two-century promise to the Indians by matriculating there in 1971. Pete graduated from Dartmouth, considered banking and law, then, after studying turf management at Rutgers, followed in his father's footsteps, and took over as head superintendent in 1980. He prepared the course, therefore, for both the 1986 and 1995 U.S. Opens, and did his job exceedingly well. "I think it's the best U.S. Open course I have ever played," Greg Norman said after finishing his first round in '95.
I remember distinctly an overriding impression of my visit to Shinnecock that year: Smith was respected by, even loved by, his crew. Hanging in his office in the maintenance shed was a souvenir print of an Indian with a legend underneath - AROUND THIS CAMP, THERE'S ONLY ONE CHIEF. But if that was so, Smith was a cheerful and benevolent chief. He was unfailingly considerate of his crew members, making sure they had enough money for lunch, enough passes for the Open, enough rest.
Smith was a born leader. At Dartmouth in the early 1970s, there was a great debate about whether the college's nickname, the "Indians," was a proper one and whether, in fact, Dartmouth was making good on its founding as an "Indian school." Smith, president of the Native American student group at Dartmouth in his senior year, was front-and-center during the fray. "I loved Dartmouth," he said to me regarding the college (of which I am an alum, '75). "I had a lot of great times up there, and I'm always pushing kids from the tribe to go. But at the time, yeah, I was part of that politically charged atmosphere. I wanted the college to make the commitment to respect us, and respect its own heritage, too."
As was natural for a former campus activist, Smith stayed politically involved when he returned to the tribe. He was, when I met him, chairman of his reservation's tribal trustees, and a key player in his people's decision. He was a family man too, and all of the Smiths were working either for their community or for the golf course. Pete's wife, Diane, was supervising the reservation's health center, and besides son Brian, there was daughter Tonya, who ran the office; Peter Jr., who also helped on the course and was an avid golfer; and Ethan, also a golfer, also a part-time crewman. Pete, whose handicap was 9, told me, "Yes, sure, the tribal game is golf. Basketball, baseball - nice games. Our tribal game is golf."
Shortly after the '95 Open, the game of golf took Smith from Long Island to Connecticut, as he was courted by the Foxwoods Resort to oversee its course. The situation proved irresistible since Foxwoods was run by the Mashantucket Pequot Tribal Nation. But then, a heart attack took Pete Smith from this world at far too young an age, 47.
I don't know if Michael J. Berkeley ever met Pete Smith, but he might have, because he played Shinnecock a lot. His own affiliation was with the Atlantic Golf Club, which, along with Shinnecock, Maidstone, National, East Hampton, and others, is one of many fine courses out on Long Island. Berkeley also held memberships at sensational clubs elsewhere - Muirfield Village, Hudson National, Winged Foot - and his securities brokerage and equities firm, the Berkeley Group, involved itself in golf-course-development projects.
I never met Mike, who was killed on the morning of his 38th birthday - September 11, 2001 - in New York City. But I became aware of him after his widow, Lourdes Perez-Berkeley, and her two sons, Eric and Jason, had moved into our neighborhood in Westchester County, New York, in 2002.
Mike had grown up in New Rochelle and attended Catholic elementary schools before going to Iona Prep, Providence College, and finally Columbia Business School. Throughout his teens, he caddied at Winged Foot, where he was the first-ever recipient of the Gene Hayden Outstanding Caddy Award.
As he built his career on the Street, first with an internship at Salomon Brothers and then at Merrill Lynch before opening his own shop, he and Lourdes were able to increase their involvement in golf. As a former caddy, Mike got along famously with those who worked at the clubs where he was a member, as well as his fellow players.
It is very fitting that a new competition for caddies, begun by the Atlantic and other East End golf clubs, is named the Michael J. Berkeley Cup. (And Mike would be pleased to know that the eight-member team from Atlantic has dominated the other loopers in the early years of the tournament.) Even more significant is the Michael J. Berkeley Foundation and its annual fundraising tournament, also named for Michael. "The purpose of the tournament is not only to raise money for the foundation, but also to continue to celebrate and honor Mike," Lourdes told me. "We hope that it serves as a remembrance of the love and respect we have for him, and what he meant to us. Many of us grew to appreciate golf because of him, and at the tournament we share our stories and memories with others. We spread our 'Mike B-isms.' We hope to touch those who didn't know Mike, just as Mike touched us."
The Foundation's mission is to help "deserving minority youth realize their highest potential in the sport of golf through education, business ventures or a professional golf career." In awarding thousands of dollars in annual scholarships and internships, the Foundation's board, of which Lourdes is chairperson, seeks "candidates who personify Michael's legacy, which included a passion for golf, a zest for life, a thirst for knowledge, a belief in helping others, a drive for business success and a love of family." In September, Katrina N. Edwards and Harold C. Villere III received $2,500 toward their college education as the first Berkeley scholars, while high schoolers Courtney Hylton and Pernon L. Dunston received equivalent amounts for summer GOLFWORKS internships.
Although further proof of the richness of Mike Berkeley's legacy is hardly necessary, Lourdes shared with me a missive that had recently arrived at the Foundation: "Today I received an application for Mr. Berkeley's scholarship. I had no idea who he was so I went on the Internet to try to find out. He sounds like someone I would truly liked to have met. I am an African/Mexican/American golfer [and] he would have been a great role model for me."
As for Pete Smith's legacy: Over at the Shinnecock reservation, one of the rising tribal leaders is Peter Smith, Jr., and this is surprising to no one. Moreover, the memory of Peter's dad and his accomplishments are an inspiration to younger members of the tribe. Smith's life story and the traditions he fostered in the community encourage them to aspire to attend college, to succeed, to serve their people, and to carry forth the torch.
Two men - Pete Smith and Mike Berkeley - taken too soon. They loved their families, they loved life, they loved their people, and they sought to improve their people's lot. Incidentally, they loved the game of golf. They live on in what others now do in their names and in their memories.