The Country Club

 

A country club is a privately owned club, often with a membership quota and admittance by invitation or sponsorship, that generally offers both a variety of recreational sports and facilities for dining and entertaining. Typical athletic offerings are golf, tennis, and swimming.

For the first half dozen years of my life, I grew up on a country club.

Not in the clubhouse but in a little house tucked in the woods next to the entry road.

It was called the Keswick Country Club, just outside of Charlottesville.

Originally built in 1912, this sumptuous, 8,000-square-foot Italianate estate snuggled in 200 acres of prime Virginia countryside was previously known as the Villa Crawford, a private home and for Mr. and Mrs. Robert Crawford by a local architect, Eugene Bradbury.

Villa Crawford, served its first 35 years as the private residence of five different owners. The property changed hands and purposes several times over the next 100 years. It served as a lavish country club in 1948 when an additional 400 acres were purchased.  In 1949 a 9-hole golf course was added.

The Keswick Country Club spent a 42-year roller coaster ride as country clubs go with ups and downs of both membership and drama. In the early 1990’s Sir Bernard Ashley, widower of Laura Ashley, spent millions restoring Keswick to its former glory and since 1993 has been the historic wing of the restored Keswick Hall, a world-class resort that draws visitors from around the world.

Growing up on at a country club provided servants who attended your every whim. It was not royalty but for a little tyke, it seemed pretty special. Being at the start of life wandering around in the woods and riding my trike while avoiding incoming/outgoing guest was all that one does. Having the opportunity to walking into the golf shop and ordering up a coke for free seemed normal. I wasn’t rich but my dad ran the place.

Country clubs are like a luxury vacation surrounded by a golf course. Members pay to be exclusive pampering of the privileges. The opulence of the club house was matched by the Anglo-Saxon décor. Colored men in black slacks and white pressed jackets scurried delivering food and drink and never engaging with the members.

Some said my dad ran a tight ship, but what he knew about running a country club before we got there is a mystery. He worked as night manager at the William Byrd hotel after a stint at the Cavalier Beach Club. He had connections from his entertaining years but what the offer was to pull up roots from Richmond to Keswick is unknown.

From what I remember it was a pretty good beginning. Not many kids grow up with their own swimming pool.

My mother would go down to the pool and hobnob with the wealthy but we were only hired help. She dabbled with golf that would lead to another country club membership when we returned to Richmond.

Country club membership requires a certain demeaner. The clothing has to match and only certain model vehicles will be parked by attendance. While adults engaged in business deals over card games and drinks, the young were to entertain themselves at the pool or caddying the foursomes. Everything else was provided by the country club for your luxury.

Our family membership to the Richmond Country Club (not as prestige as the Country Club of Virginia) seemed like beyond the edge of the world with a long drive out to Goochland. My mother prevailed in golf contest and won a lot of silver bowls and trays while mingling with the rich and famous.

I learned the game of golf and was pretty good at it. Unfortunately, my eyesight was bad and when I drove the ball off the tee, I lost sight of it. I enjoyed it until a threesome with Curtis Strange and Laney Watkins playing for a dollar a hole went bad and one of those guys got mad and threw his clubs into a water hazard and stormed away.

I enjoyed the pool until one day a friend of mine who was diving for dropped coins with me drowned. I then went on to become qualified as a lifeguard and even joined a swim team.

The other side of country clubs are the parties. There were black tie dinners and cotillions. There were debutante parties, birthday parties, and parties celebrating holidays (that we won’t talk about now) with all the decorations and accoutrements. Every caste had their place and attendance were required to behave in a certain manner.

I don’t miss being pampered like a king but know some do and must network connections and participate in investment schemes to accomplish a status.

Mother! I will be at the pool. Do have a coke and some nabs served poolside.