A Very Sad Tale (Sorry Susan I Didn't Know)--

From http://www.brazosriver.com/oldorchard.htm (visit and see the pictures--they help tell this story). It shouldn't matter who you support in the upcoming county and local city elections, anyone can relate to loss.


Grieving Again

(from http://www.brazosriver.com/oldorchard.htm)


Five years ago this month, my beloved 26 year old son died after a brief and courageous battle with cancer.  He was damn near perfect, and I miss him so much.  It is a pain for which there are no words, but sometimes you can almost see it in my eyes.  Even my closest friends usually look the other way because they don’t want to see how deep pain can go.   

He chose cremation because he felt he shouldn’t take up space after he was gone.  He was like that – a tree hugger and proud of it.   

We spread his ashes at Old Orchard Golf Course on a cool brisk evening next to a pecan tree that looks like it’s been there forever.   He considered Old Orchard to be his home course because he played it regularly since 1990 with me, his Dad and his brothers.  For those familiar with the course, it’s the tree next to the old windmill.  He really liked that old windmill.   


I couldn’t count the number of times he played that course; he felt at home there.  He knew every twist and turn.  We had always imagined that one day he would teach his own children to play golf by bringing them to Old Orchard.   

We put a bench, handmade by one of his friends, next to the tree with his name on it and some words from Bagger Vance (the book, not the movie) that talks of always being in search of your authentic swing.  He had read the book shortly before he died and liked the idea that you might be able to find your soul through sports. 

His brothers tend the bench and visit it on holidays to set out a few flowers or add some mulch.  Every year for Christmas they have given me a picture of themselves sitting on their brother’s bench.  It is almost as if he is growing older with them. 

 
Over the past five years, people who are strangers to us make an effort to tell us how beautiful the bench is in its simplicity. Our son would have liked that. When we play golf at Old Orchard now, and laugh recalling his incurable slice, we play a little faster to get to the bench and “see” our son and brother.   

Old Orchard, an integral part of our community, has been eaten-up by developers.  Brutalized.  Flattened.  Destroyed.   

The green space, the quiet, the pecans bursting and the squirrels running, the chance to find your soul, a place we thought would be there forever, is going to be leveled and concreted by the creeping unsustainable development that our elected officials in Fort Bend County encourage and brag about.  You can almost see the pain go deeper in my eyes. 


Old Orchard was rated one of the finest public golf courses in Texas.  It was a country club quality course for the working man to take back the game of golf from the cigar smoking fat cats who only play to do a deal.  It was a course where you might find your soul instead of paying your dues.  It was beautiful. Its owners kept it excellent condition while keeping the rates low enough for families to play. The profit margin was low but the value it had to the community was immense. We mistakenly thought that gave it a reason to exist.   

This will not be the first time that I have been called anti-growth by someone looking to make a buck.  They are going to build grand, expensive houses on top of my son’s ashes.  He would have hated that.  I hate it.  I will not be able to drive down FM1464 again because I know I will look over where the golf course used to be and ache.  I ache not only for my son’s resting place, I also ache for green areas and places where families can be together in the quiet and build memories.   

I figure that developers close by Old Orchard have sold the land around it by boasting of the added benefit of green spaces and a prime public golf course right in your community.  And now they are eating that.   


I understand that nothing is forever.  You don’t have to tell me that.  I’ve lost a child, I know that better than you do.  But I think the greatest loss is the idea that pouring concrete is progress. I have lived here for half my life.  You cannot see the stars at night here anymore.  However, you can see the result of developers’ big dollar political contributions to eager politicians.  You can clearly see the traffic jams and over-crowded schools.  The rise in crime is apparent and the pollution is thick with haze.   

Yes, my property values have increased, but so have my taxes.  Obviously, the value of our memories is of no concern to developers or money crazed politicians.  Growth trumps quality of life for those who have made their homes here.  There are plenty of areas to build without tearing down a pecan orchard and a golf course. 

The destruction starts on November 6th, and they will build million dollar homes over the ashes of my child.  They call it progress.   I call it a shame.