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THIS WEEK IN REVIEW .... September 13, 2012
This weeks Reporter-Don Smith

news_l3.gif Dick Laskey       news_l4.jpg  Rick Jacobus      news_l5.gif   Rev. Robinson

Guests: Lori Bailey, Jim Robinson’s Life Skills coach for the day since Peter was gone.

Fines:   Fine to Tim for such a lousy impersonation of Peter Pauwels, passed.

Announcements:   Just received from Jim Rees via e-mail this date 9-14-12: The South Restaurant will serve our lunches with a varied American menu. They can start on Oct 4. Please ask the BOD members if this acceptable. (BOD members, contact Jim and let him know).

Jim also congratulated us for using the King Soopers discount cards. The club made $366 last month. See Jim if you need to buy a card or for details on how it works.


news_l6.gif SERTOMAN OF THE DAY:

Sertoman of the Day:  Young Pat McKim was born in York, Penn in 1968 (Pat thought some of us were wearing underwear that old). He was the last of 4 kids and in 1970, his parents moved the family to Littleton so he went to Littleton public schools. Rick Jacobus and Sam Anderson got him into the club. Pat has known Rick a long time. Pat grew up with Rick and Doug’s kids.

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Pat graduated in 1991 from CU Denver for his degree as a certified financial planner and has worked at that profession for the past 19 years or so.

Pat has served every position in the club except secretary and has been a bingo captain for about 10 years. He figures with his young age, he has brought the average age of the club DOWN to 65. Pat seems a bit disappointed that Ken Kelley is now the youngest member.

He is single, has never been married and has no kids (as far as he knows, he says he doesn’t answer the door on Fathers day). His hobbies include everything that takes him where the ladies are, riding dirt bikes and mountains bikes and was in Leadville a couple years ago racing at 10,000 feet plus and passed Lance Armstrong in the race (in opposite directions, Pat finished 4 hours behind Lance). He has no military service. He grew up on the Platt River and his High School, Heritage High, is still standing. His dog’s name is El Guapo and is about 15 years old.

Listen to PatMcKim 2012.mp3

Program:   Scott Manley introduce Joe Gomez and Carol Huserik. They came today to talk about a Disabled Golf Program they are involved with at Craig Hospital and to inform us of a golf tournament this weekend….It’s not to late to sign up, call Carol at 303 789-8588 or e-mail her at:

Joe Gomez and Carol Huserik.JPG

Carol in golf cart (Small).JPG

Laskey in golf cart (Small).JPG

About Us
"Golf 4 The Disabled is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization with the mission of improving the lives of people with disabilities through the game of golf. The core of our program is teaching golf to people with disabilities and raising money for that purpose."
Our PGA professional teaches golf to people with a variety of disabilities (with or without the use of any aids).
We have our own adaptive equipment.
Volunteers are available to help as needed.
Shuttle service is available from the parking lot.
What do Golf 4 The Disabled Volunteers do?
Many rewarding volunteer opportunities exist including:
Assisting golfers out on the course (such as teeing up balls, carrying equipment, driving golf carts, etc.)
Helping out with administrative tasks.
Taking pictures at events.
Writing our newsletter or website.
Helping out on tournament day!

How Can I Get Involved?
Indicate your desired interests and/or expertise on the Volunteer Application and mail it back to Frank Martorella who will follow up and get you started
Know of someone else who might be interested? If yes, contact Frank Martorella.

Success Stories and a bit of history ...
Back in 1989, Nan Wolbert, a registered nurse, sustained a severe head injury in an automobile accident. Looking for a recreational activity to improve her concentration and balance that she would also enjoy with her husband, she elected to give golf a try. In the process, Nan discovered that the experience offered a renewed sense of self-confidence in life. And the fun, friendship and improved self-esteem she found on the practice green carried over into her non golf-related activities. Due to her success with golf as therapy, Nan decided to offer lessons to others with disabilities! Hence, Golf 4 The Disabled was born!        Listen to Carol and Joe.mp3


Upcoming programs:
Sep 20: Paul Houston, Amendment 64
Sep 27: Cliff Polk – Long Term Care
Oct 4: Ethan Feldman, Democratic Candidate, 18th Judicial District Attorney
Oct 11: George Brauchler, Republican Candidate, 18th Judicial District

List of future programs:
Index of past programs programs.pdf
 pot2.gif       Doug Harder          dollars.gifEd Bezjak

Upcoming SOD list
Sep 20 – Regular Meeting – SODDick Mason
Sep 27 – Regular Meeting – SOD Cliff Metsker ?
Oct4 - Regular Meeting – SOD Dave Miley
Oct 11 - Regular Meeting – BOD & SOD Don Nelson
Oct 18 - Regular Meeting – SOD Peter Pauwels
Oct 25 - Regular Meeting – SOD Jim Perkins

(BOD means Board of Dir. meeting)

Early December will be our Christmas Party and celebration for the clubs 60th anniversary.
More info later.


Click here for a printable version PDF             Club's 50yr Proclamation
   Editors notes:     If you want an electronic copy of the Roster,  
  send me an e-mail.

Sertoma Application form: app.pdf       Recruiting Manual     
Arapahoe Sertoma letter head

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New club photo page:

If you have an old vehicle you want to donate, checkout Cars for C.U.R.E.
Goto or call (720) 490-4009

Second grade soldier

My son learned to roller skate less than 48 hours ago. He’d be ashamed to admit it, but there were tears at first, but then lots of skating. Twenty-four hours earlier, I took him on his very first father-son bike ride. We rode eight miles, the farthest he’d ever ridden at one time. I took him for ice cream. His had M&Ms in it.

Two weeks ago, my eight-year-old son started second grade. He tested into fifth grade reading. He found $2 on the hallway floor, turned it in to the school office, and held the door for a lady on his way out. Tonight is his class Open House. There’s a slideshow.

My son sleeps in a twin bed. It’s piled with stuffed animals. It’s a wonder he can sleep there. Each animal has a name. One is called Baby. One is called Brandon. There are at least 20 more. I don’t know all their names, but my son does. He is somewhere in the too-small-space between a baby and a man, and science still hasn’t found a way to slow down time such that I can love my boy like this forever.

This morning, I read my Twitter feed and nodded at each one of the 9/11 remembrances. I nodded and nodded until I reached this one from an Afghanistan war veteran named Richard Allen Smith (aka rockrichard), retweeted by my friend Grange95.

I read the words again to make sure I hadn’t seen them wrong.

“There are troops fighting in Afghanistan right now that were in second grade on 9/11/01.”

Even after a re-reading, I did the math in my head, sure that someone had carried the wrong number in the subtraction. I, like you, remember 9/11/01 because it was yesterday. I didn’t shower or shave for 48 hours. I worked at the TV station until there was no more work to do, and then I drove around in my car talking to my friend Marty halfway across the country. We’d known each other for a decade at that point, but we still didn’t know what to say that night. I remember 9/11/01, because no real time has passed since.

But it is true. Those second graders of 9/11/01 are 18 or 19 years old today, and some of them are in a mountainous hell right now fighting a near-invisible enemy. Some of those soldiers in desert camo fatigues woke up on the morning of 9/11/01 in a bed full of stuffed animals, wet down the cowlick in their hair, and went to second grade. That night, the PTA meetings were all canceled. Those kids’ parents probably never thought their nation’s tragedy would result in their little boys and girls serving as ground troops in a decade-old war.

I remember second grade. I was in love with Emily Kinney, but I asked my teacher Mrs. Bennett to marry me. Love was a weird thing in the early 80s. Our classroom was the second one on the left, just a couple of doors down the Hilldale Elementary hallway from Mrs. Haseltine’s first grade class, and smack dab in the middle of Vietnam and the first Gulf War. I didn’t event think about the hell of combat until I was a senior in high school ten years later.

I don’t pretend to understand war, how it starts or ends, or what purpose our country hopes to further achieve in Afghanistan. I’ve known too many good soldiers and their families to ever speak ill of their mission. What’s more, this is a day to remember a country once brought together in tragedy and aimed at a common good. This is a day to remember the innocent victims and valiant heroes who died at the hands of radicals eleven years ago. No one has forgotten them, and no one of our generation will.

But right now I hear my son coming home from second grade, his voice still immature, coming up the stairs to tell me how his test went. His teeth are new, crooked, and probably bound for braces. His hair is getting shaggy and will probably need a cut soon. He has a Pokemon book in his hand. He’s never known the America that I knew before 9/11. He’s never known a life without war. And in the time that has elapsed since 9/11–a day we can all still feel aching in our gut–my little boy, the child that turned his boy-father into a man, could be carrying a gun across a desert as a soldier in the American military.

Sometimes I think we forget what war means to our soldiers, to our country, and to our way of life. I think it’s only today that I’ve fully appreciated what war means, because I can see how close my son is to that pure hell. It took just a few words from a veteran for me to realize that the people fighting and dying today were my son’s age when this new American wartime began…just yesterday.