As luck would have it, I was visiting my parents in North Carolina when the envelope arrived. I knew instantly what it was. That multi-colored umbrella in the upper left corner was a dead giveaway.
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My parents get an inordinate amount of mail, though, and it went to the bottom of the stack. I think my dad thought it was an advertisement of some kind. So I waited on pins and needles until he finally opened it.
My father had recently been diagnosed with prostate cancer, and I knew Palmer -- Dad's favorite golfer -- had battled the disease successfully as well. So to cheer him up, I asked Arnie's long-time personal assistant, Doc Giffin, if he would get his boss to autograph a photo for my dad.
Finally, after what seemed like eons, Dad tore open the large manila envelope. His eyes widened and his face broke out into a huge smile when he took out not just a photo but a letter, as well. Here's what it said:
Dear John,
I understand from your daughter, Helen, that you have been diagnosed with prostate cancer and I am taking the liberty of dropping you this note of encouragement.
As you know, I went through the same thing a few years ago and everything has worked out fine for me. Like you, I had stayed on top of my health, so my illness was detected early and that was all-important. Hopefully, you will have the same success in overcoming your cancer as I did, no matter what route of treatment you decide to pursue.
I wish you the best of luck and urge you to be optimistic about the future.
Sincerely,
P.S. Hope you enjoy the picture.
I still get a lump in my throat when I think about that day. I remember my dad quietly re-reading the letter several times that night. I don't think he knew I was watching him but I could tell the words of support from Palmer -- who we used to go out and follow when he played in the Greater Greensboro Open -- resonated loudly. It was a bright spot in what was, at the time, an extremely scary time for him, as well as for my mom and me. The letter couldn't have come at a better time for all of us.
The next day the first order of business was to find a frame for the letter and the photo. Dad took it to show the doctors and the nurses who took such good care of him. He made sure his best friend Dave and that wonderful group of guys from the Men's Golf Association at Star Hill Golf Club who took turns driving him 50 minutes -- each way -- for his radiation treatments saw it, too.
The letter and the photo still sit on the red chest in our family den. Dad, as Palmer urged, stayed positive, and the cancer is gone. His achy knees and back may not let him play golf as much now as Arnie still does at a similar age, but my dad and mom watch the tournaments on TV almost every weekend. And when I told him I wanted to write this column as a tribute to Mr. Palmer, Dad was more than happy to let me tell the story. This is my chance to say thank you -- and Happy Birthday -- to Arnie, too.