I was very interested in an article about the recent golf match at the Firestone Country Club in Akron, Ohio. Rory McIlroy and Sergio Garcia were battling it out on the links, and then an amazing thing happened.
Sergio Garcia was on the third hole and hit the ball. The ball hit a spectator on her hand and knocked the diamond out of her wedding ring. Everyone was in shock for a moment, making sure she was all right. When she looked at her hand, she realized what had happened and started crying.
The poor golfer was upset too and offered to buy another diamond to replace the one that had fallen out. Several people, friends of the lady, began looking in the grass trying to find the lost gem. After 10 or 15 minutes of crawling around on the ground, an unbelievable thing happened. They found the diamond, which was quite a feat if you ask me. Lucky for the lady spectator -- and lucky for Sergio Garcia, too; he did not have to make good on his promise of buying another diamond.
But luck did not follow Sergio the rest of the day. He lost to McIlroy but his charm won in my book.
That little episode reminded me of something similar that happened at my store about 15 years ago. A friend and I were sitting on my porch eating lunch and chatting about nothing special. She had lost some weight, so her rings didn't fit her finger well; after lunch she was going to Steve Bush's shop to have them sized. After we had solved all of the world's problems, she stood up to leave and let out a big yelp.
Her three-carat diamond ring had somehow slipped off her finger and was nowhere to be found. The front yard of my store is full of oyster shells and sand. We searched frantically for hours but to no avail. We were in a state of shock. Every day we looked, but alas, nothing.
One afternoon several years later, several schoolchildren stopped by to speak to me and we went outside to sit on the steps.
The children were picking up the oyster shells and throwing them across the street when suddenly a little boy came over to me and said, "Miss Babbie, I found something." I looked at it and could not believe my eyes. Even though it was very dirty, I could see it was a ring. After all the time -- and all of the searching -- there was the ring.
I called my friend and told her to come over at once, not telling her why. I asked the little boy to walk over to her and say "Guess what I found." Well it was a wonderful reunion between the ring and its owner. The little boy got a $100 reward, which he said he was going to save because when he grew up he wanted to buy a Corvette. He now has his Corvette, and my friend has her ring -- now sized to fit her finger.
One day they all got dressed up and had a group portrait made -- there were five in the gang at that time. The picture was displayed in the photographer's window, and that was the beginning of the end for Butch and Sundance.
So I guess it is true a picture is worth a thousand words. I loved the movie, which is mostly based on fact. It featured Paul Newman and Robert Redford, and if you are interested, PBS has put out a film about their antics titled "Butch Cassidy."
Fast-food restaurants happily wait on customers who ride up on their trusty steed. The city's mounted police wear cowboy hats, and the visitor center has 22 cowboys and cowgirls on their staff. There is even a open-air movie theater with a hitching post and a water trough. There are spots all over town where you can rent a horse if you don't own one.
Lesa Howell and her family used to live in Bluffton. Lesa lived on All Joy Road, and she used to ride her horse to my store to shop. That was in the early 1980s when things were much different. Lesa would tie the horse to a post in front and sometimes spend an hour or so with me. One day she bought a 9-foot-by-12-foot rug that we rolled up and put on the back of the horse and off she rode. I wonder what people would think if that happened today. It certainly is a lot simpler just to ride up and tie your mode of transportation to a post, and besides I love cowboy boots and cowboy hats.
Babbie Guscio is the social columnist for The Bluffton Packet. She can be reached at The Store on Calhoun Street.
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- All columns by Babbie Guscio