Bladen Citizen Writes Manuscript Centered Around Carolina Sands Golf Course

Gary Mazzaferro, a native of Long Island, New York and an Air Force veteran, arrived in Bladen County some seven years ago. Being retired, he was looking for something to do part-time. His search led him to a job working in the pro shop at Carolina Sands Golf Course.

Gary has now written a book, Gary’s Own Links Fable. This is a story about Elizabethtown, the people he met, the stories they have told and of course, golf, the greatest game of them all.

Bladenonline.com will be publishing excerpts from the 137 page, eighteen-chapter manuscript. Anyone interested in acquiring a copy may contact Gary Mazzaferro at ggmazz14@comcast.net.

Chapter 5

How does one become a good putter? One of the best I’ve seen at Carolina Lakes is none other than Norgie “Chester”. He told me he has been using the same putter for more than 20 years. Another good putter was the late Larry “Cristo”. One could see him almost every day on the putting green when almost everyone else had gone home. I’ve enjoyed watching our members experiment with putting and putters. Some, such as “AC”, have putters that were handmade. One, like Mac “Portal”. plays right handed but putts left handed. Ed Horn can be seen on the putting green using a board to help groove his stroke. David “Crosswhite” probably has more putters than anyone and can be found with a different one each week.

For the better part of two and a half years, I worked in a golf store in “Lumbee Land”. Many of my Carolina Lakes friends were customers, as were many “Snowbirds” driving down I-95 to sunny and warm Florida, where even I now live. I remember the people who bought from me, including Warren “Cook” and Ed Horn. I called them the Mizuno Twins. Others might know them as “Dr.” and “The Dancing Nome.” Ed used to have a terrible habit. He would rock back and forth, lifting each foot alternately off the ground several times before swinging. I once counted as many as thirteen of these dance steps.

I’ve seen deer, coon and other tracks in the many sand traps at Carolina Lakes. There are tales of bears living near the golf course. One evening, my friend Norgie Chester and his granddaughter Hailee were down at the pond on number 12, when a sound coming from the woods nearby startled the girl and she cried “Granddaddy, let’s run.” No one knows for sure what that noise was. Do you remember the day the hog walked the fairways at Carolina Lakes and was finally apprehended in the road by David Crosswhite and tossed over the fence into the vacant RV Park?