Wilson Rd golf course

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Standing here on the fourth hole at Wilson Road Golf Course a lot of wonderful childhood memories come rushing back. I remember not only certain events but the feelings and emotions of that time. There was a certain kind of excitement that I’ll never have again. Going out with friends to a Friday night football game, the nervousness of asking a girl you have a crush on out on a date, or being too nervous to ask and being lovesick for months until the next crush, playing this very course with neighborhood buddies. I can feel all these emotions again when standing here on this beautiful, cool holiday weekend morning.

A poem that has left an impression

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.