Oxford University

by Ed Nelson

  My reply was simple, I don’t have time to play golf professionally as I’m attending Oxford University and with my career as an actor I don’t need the money. I didn’t want to get into the real money that was Jackson Enterprises.

  When asked if I intended to enter the major tournaments next year to try for the grand slam as an amateur I just smiled. It hadn’t been done since the legendary Bobby Jones.

  “We will see.”

  After all the presentations along with the biggest trophy I had ever received, I joined my family along with John and his wife for a steak dinner at the Brown Palace in Denver. The food was great, the décor was a little dark for me, and I was used to smoke-darkened rooms from the Middle Ages.

  We did have a serious talk about next year. John and his wife were up for almost anything to get ready. He was going to start his homework on getting qualified on the following courses: Augusta Georgia for The Masters on April 6-10, 1961; The US Open at Oakland Hill Country Club Birmingham Michigan, on June 15-17. Then the British Open at the Royal Birkdale course in Southport England July 12-15. Up next was the PGA Championship July 27-31 at the Olympia Fields Country Club Olympia Illinois

  He told me he knew what he had to do to caddy at all the courses but the Royal Birkdale. I told him I may have an in there and would get back to him.

  We did a very rough tabletop budget but let John and Linda know that we didn’t expect them to skimp. John laughed and told me the way this was going he would make a million before he was thirty. I was glad for him. He earned it all when he reminded me they couldn’t take away my birthday.

  As we were leaving the restaurant there were many requests for autographs. This didn’t surprise me and I gave them out easily. What did surprise me was the line of little girls getting Mary to sign. She took it very seriously, asking who they wanted it made out to. She did have to ask most of them how to spell their names. I don’t mean last names, I mean, Linda, Ellen, and others. Her seriousness was so cute.

  Chapter 39

  From the restaurant, I was driven back to the Cherry Hill airport where I took a small charter to Stapleton to catch a direct flight to London.

  TWA was ready for me at check-in. The airline of the stars had photographers waiting at the Ambassador Club and again at the gate. I went through all the correct motions but just wanted to get on the plane and digest the events of the day.

  A gentleman sat next to me and minded his own business. I got down to studying but my thoughts wandered.

  The US Open is like many other major events such as the circus coming to town. It is here and the biggest thing around and then it is gone all that would be left by now would be a few hospitality tents.

  The golfers would be moving on to the next tournament, the caterers to the next event. Even the birds that had hovered over the trash cans would have moved on to the next free meal.

  There would be no threesomes waiting at the tee box. The driving range and practice green would also be empty. There would be no customers in the Pro Shop. The course would have the quiet of a slow summer day.

  It reminded me of the day in 1955, I think it was then, that Dad and Uncle Wally took me to Lima, Ohio to see the Barnum Baily Ringling Brothers Circus. It was the last time they toured with the big top, a true three-ring circus, after that they only appeared in colosseums.

  The next day when the circus left town there were only three circles of sawdust left from the three rings. We had stayed overnight so I saw it on the way home. It left me with a memory of how great appearing things can disappear overnight.

  Uncle Wally tried to convince me that there had been a murder the night before and that the body was buried under one of the rings. They had the elephants trample the ground so you wouldn’t know it had been dug up.

  Anyone but Wally and I might have believed them.

  After that bit of introspection, I went back to my studies. This lasted until the pilot announced they were pleased to have onboard today the winner of this year’s US Open, Sir Richard Jackson. That set off the parade of people asking for autographs. I even had to change to the aisle seat with the other guy so he could have some peace and quiet.

  It finally died down and I spent the rest of the flight going over my coursework notes. Exams were like golf tournaments. They came and were a big deal then left with the wreckage of student’s hopes and dreams in their wake. After that nothing was left but the smooth flow of centuries in Oxford’s academic life.

  It must be the letdown after a major life event but I was positively morbid today.

  When we landed early Sunday morning I felt dirty, grungy and just plain out of sorts with a headache so I was glad to get to my hotel suite. It was proving to be one of my better investments. Unlike the Beach House which my family said was fantastic while I hadn’t seen it since it was finished. They had spent several days at the beach and assured me it was great fun. Did I mention I’m tired and grumpy?

  I took a shower and napped until noon. At the front desk, a stack of phone messages had somehow found me, many of them congratulatory, many wanting interviews and even offers of sponsorship if I changed my mind and went pro.

  President Eisenhower and The Queen both sent messages.

  I took a long walk through the City of London. I wasn’t up to going to a park and running. I let the sights and sounds of the city pass by me and I calmed down from the last week. Wow, I had won the US Open. I think it was just starting to sink in.

  I may not be able to run fast enough for football, but I sure can hit a golf ball. I had read somewhere about compensating. I must be overcompensating.

  I called Mr. Norman’s private number after lunch. He told me a car would pick me up at 7:00 in the morning. My regalia were in place at Windsor Castle, all I had to do was show up in a suit and tie.

  After waking at five, getting a light workout in, then cleaning up and eating breakfast I was dressed and waiting for the limo which pulled up promptly at 7:00.

  Traffic wasn’t terrible like Los Angeles so we made the drive quickly. Mr. Norman was waiting for me and escorted me to a dressing room where I donned the outfit of a member of the Order of the Garter. First was the actual garter which is worn on the left calf. It is a dark blue velvet strap on.

  Then the velvet mantle, a dark blue long cape lined with white taffeta.

  Then there was the hat. Not something you would see every day. Not that the mantle wasn’t unusual but the hat was something else. It was what Henry VIII wore in most of his pictures except it also had a plume of white ostrich and black heron feathers.

  I would receive the collar, a pure gold 30 troy ounce chain, with the Great George medallion suspended, showing St. George slaying the Dragon during the investiture ceremony.

  When I was shown into the room where the current Knights were waiting, I realized two things, I was the only new knight, and that all of them were more than fifty years older than me!

  Prince Philip was kind enough to take me in hand and introduce me around. The other knights were all Lord Lieutenant’s, Field Marshals, Head of the Bank of England and heads of large businesses.

  I was in august company. I was feeling overwhelmed as I had snuck under the circus tent rather than paying at the door. My looks must have told the Prince that as he told me, “You are the only Knight here for bravery. An argument could be made you are the only true Knight present.”

  Maybe not the former Field Marshal who ran the entire British forces during World War II, but most of them.

  That put a different slant on it but I was still in over my head. That was until the businessmen started asking about Jackson Enterprises and the container business. While I didn’t run the business it was mine and I had the final say. Maybe I was equal to some of them. One even asked me to attend a golf outing. I told him I would get back to him.

  We all entered the throne room at Windsor and knelt to our Queen. I was called forth and she really did tap my shoulder with a real sword this time. When she did she wi
nked at me! Then the Collar and Medallion of the Order were placed around my neck. I was handed a box with the Lesser George and sash which I would wear on my uniforms at official functions, and a ribbon for my daily wear.

  We had what they called a luncheon and what I would call a banquet with the Queen presiding. I wasn’t near her so didn’t have a chance to make my manners to her.

  After eating we paraded in a long parade down the hill to the Georges chapel. Along with us were the Military Knights. The path was lined with soldiers in antique uniforms and many an invited onlooker.

  In the chapel, I had my own stall with a plate on the end bearing my coat of arms. I had just joined one of the most powerful private clubs in the world. Our current 22 members made the US Senate look like a boys club. Well except for me of course, I hoped to grow into the role.

  When it was all done I handed my regalia back for safekeeping except for the Lesser George star and sash that I would wear it on, plus the ribbons for my uniform.

  It was a shame my parents couldn’t be there but they had prior commitments and they like me were getting tired of living on airplanes. My Grand Mum was there and had a great time. She was accompanied by the Queen Mum and they chatted a dozen a minute. I suspect they just couldn’t understand what this younger generation was coming to.

  Later Grand Mum told me they talked about the latest soaps on the telly. Go figure.

  The Royals and most of the other players in today’s pageant were off to the races, the Royal Ascot races. I went back to school. Another circus parade was finished. I had to wonder, is that all there is?

  At school, it took the rest of the week to settle back in and get into the revision routine. The guys wanted to know all about the golf tournament and were there many girls there, and the investiture, and were many girls there. The answer was I had no idea about golf as I had been focused on my play.

  Yes, I noticed many girls, granddaughters probably but never had the opportunity to speak to any as my peers the old fogies took my attention either about business or golf.

  When asked about the business, I told them I think I had bought another steamship line sight unseen. That really took them aback until they realized I was giving them the piss for being pests.

  I studied like my academic career depended on it, which it did, for the next two weeks. Like all study times, there is never enough. Too quickly the days of the exams were upon me. The entire last week of June, I was either taking an exam or swotting for the next one.

  When the last one was finished I hurried home to The Meadows, had dinner with Grand Mum who assured me I had passed all my exams. I was returning to the US on the morrow. There was no packing required as I now had my kit on both sides of the ocean. I suppose someday I will have complete wardrobes around the world.

  I went to say good night to Grand Mum but she was on the phone with her new best friend talking about the soaps.

  The next morning I drove to Oxford airport and then flew my plane to Heathrow. Mr. Noman knew I was out of the Messenger business for the summer break. He had arranged for an RAF pilot to fly the Greyhound if needed.

  Boarding good old Try Walking Again I settled in for the long flight wondering what the summer would bring.

  To be continued in Book 9 of the Richard Jackson Saga.