Augusta, Ga. – The bullet drilled a hole in his luxury SUV, not golfer Tom Lehman. So he can laugh now. Ever heard a laugh sound equal parts funny and sad?
What does not kill us only makes America more paranoid.
If the driver in his golf bag were constructed from wood,
Lehman would knock on it. The 47-year-old pro went to the Masters. Got caught in a drive-by shooting. Dodged a bullet fired with indiscriminate madness. And lived to tell.
“Hard to believe,” Lehman said Thursday, recounting the frightening blast destined to echo in his memory. “So that’s what it feels like, or that’s what it sounds like, when you get killed by a gun. A big explosion. And then nothing.”
On a map of the United States, you will locate Augusta closer to Mayberry RFD than CSI: Miami. When the big tournament is not in town, the local folks pull down their shades and roll up the sidewalks shortly after dark.
But here’s the scary part. When the sun goes down anywhere in this gun-toting country, danger can ride shotgun.
And Lehman has a bullet hole in the rear, driver-side door of a Cadillac Escalade as proof.
This story came within 5 feet of ending in blood and tears.
“His aim was bad with me,”
Lehman said. “I’m pretty happy about that.”
After finishing the opening round at Augusta National,
Lehman signed for a 76 on his scorecard, not the best work of a man who has won more than $18 million in prize money on the PGA Tour.
But, any way you figure it,
Lehman figures he came out one big shot ahead.
“You open the newspaper every day and read about all these random things that happen to people, these things that change your whole life, these things that ruin lives,” said Lehman, captain of the U.S. Ryder Cup team.
After correcting a wrong turn on the way to Augusta Regional Airport during a Tuesday errand to pick up his family,
Lehman was startled by an explosion as a four-door sedan sped by him.
He initially thought maybe a window, or tire, blew out. Only after stopping to inspect the courtesy vehicle provided by tourney hosts did Lehman notice a hole in the door so foreign to his everyday existence that the family suspected Dad had bought one of those mafia-car decals as a prank.
“They thought it was a joke,” said Lehman, who immediately contacted police. “But I’m most happy that guy tried this before I picked up my family at the airport. My (son) would have been sitting in that seat.”
After turning down a dark street in a strange town, ever reach nervously for the button to lock your car doors with a reassuring click?
When paranoia of random violence begins to strike deep in the heart of Dixie, something’s wrong.
“It was a very, very surreal experience,” said Lehman, relieved to know the shooter is apparently behind bars. “I think he was full of Jack Daniel’s. He must have had a bad day at work.”
Mistrust is a national mind-set, and I’m capable of being as irrational as anybody.
Shortly after midnight Wednesday, within hours after police arrested a 26-year-old identified as Troy Willis Smith on suspicion of endangering
Lehman in the crossfire of a drive-by shooting, I hopped in my own car at an Augusta convenience store, hoping the purchase of an ice-cream bar could tame a growling stomach.
A bleary-eyed man wearing an Indiana University windbreaker jogged toward me in the parking lot.
I rolled down the window while clicking the doors locked in the same instant that my blood pressure spiked. Because, these days, you never can be too safe.
“Hey,” the stranger announced, then quickly explained himself as a weary golf worshipper on a cross country pilgrimage to the Masters, with no ticket, no bed and no real plan except this powerful hankering to set foot on the game’s hallowed grounds, no matter what it cost him in sleep or money.
“Is this the road I take to Augusta National?” he asked.
Pointing straight in the night, I told him to take a right at the stoplight, and mentioned the first player was not scheduled to smack a drive at the No. 1 tee until well after dawn.
Then, exhaling a small sigh of relief and grinning sheepishly at my silly paranoia, I added words that slowly have become more appropriate than “goodbye” in America.
“Be safe.”
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-820-5438 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
