John D. Vogel died last week. He was waked on a Sunday night that saw Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson trading birdies and eagles like knockout punches; a duel at Doral that echoed "He's baaack..."
But this post shouldn't be about the trascendence of Tiger or the titans of golf; it's a tribute to Jack. That's how I knew him. John D. Vogel... when I saw the obit only a re-read confirmed that, yeah, it was my Jack - age 81, Colonie resident, widower, longtime companion. No children, survived by many neices and nephews. A friend and mentor to many.
I first met Jack through Tom Delaney, and he became my chief source for all things Muni circa 1940-1950. We met at diners, talked golf. He regaled with bounty but he was not boastful. He was a pal to Charlie Rush, he loved the ponies as well.
I remember one of his best stories was about coming to the 17th at muni and realizing that if he parred in, he would break 80.
"You know how you get, realizing this," he said in that rasping laugh. "I knew, I knew."
Nervous distraction, he shuddered at the memory. He ended up salvaging par on the tough 17th, that uphill par 3 with the two-teir green and then proceeded to dub his drive on the 18th. I recall that he ended up hitting a perfect recovery shot and then sank a long putt to birdie the last. "It was fate."
The scorecard from this round was displayed on an easel next to his casket Sunday night.
I didn't know anyone at the wake and I checked the book and recognized none of the names from his kin in the game. They're mostly all gone now. Jack, in his archivist way, was fond of tracking the dead in a little book. No one's left to track Jack's passing to the great muni course in the heavens, so I'll do it here. John D. "Jack" Vogel, died Weds, March 2. I'll miss him calling me up at work with a long lost nugget of muni golf trivia, his voice. "Aaaric, Jack Vogel here!"
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