A Lifetime of First

Thirty years ago, I broke a barrier many thought could not be broken: I became the first woman to caddy on the hallowed fairways of the most famous sporting event on earth: The Masters.   It was not an easy road to get there.   Many doubted the possibility of change.  Most wondered whether women were strong enough.  The leaders preferred to do things the way they had always done them.  My own stubbornness, my Mom’s passion, my Dad’s willingness, and a change in the perpetually conservative Augusta National allowing PGA golfers to bring their own caddies, enabled me to break the gender and color barrier and become the first woman to caddy the Masters.  My Dad, George Archer, was the Champion in 1969.  He was such a good putter that a newscaster this week said that when Tiger Wood's putter was hot, "He was putting like George Archer."   Caddying many PGA events as the first woman was only one landmark in a long list of firsts that I have been privileged to pioneer.

 It was a fabulous and head spinning experience.  I had hoards of people asking for my autograph, taking pictures, reporters asking for interviews, and people coming up to me all day and night, on and off the course, to pose for pictures and asking to shake my hand.  One middle aged CEO even grabbed me near the famous 16th party triangle and kissed me on the lips before he walked away.  I’m sure I stood there in astonishment for at least a minute before I got back to work.

That week,  I learned that celebrity is quintessential boredom.  The repetitive questions made me weary.  I don’t know how those who make their living in public are able to graciously and creatively answer the same mundane query one hundred or more times.  Few people ask questions that are insightful or new.   With our attentions spans even further diminished,  I am certain it is far worse today than it was then. The limelight is not something I enjoy. 

I kept my focus by repeating that if one teenager can demonstrate that women can do things the world said we couldn’t, then the world would be different.  While many may not feel like caddying is anything world changing,  I did.  It was a matter of strength and freedom.  If we allow others to decide what we can or can’t do based on their opinions of who we are, we are all impoverished.   For years,  I heard teachers, doctors, politicians say that men are stronger than women.  I didn’t agree.  I could out lift, out run and out climb most of the boys in my high school.  While many men might be stronger than women in some ways,  what man could stand the pain of childbirth, I wondered?  There are different kinds of strength and we all benefit by allowing all to share the burden and to cheer each other on, rather than put each other down.

My image and story appeared in newspapers and magazines all over the world.  As Sojourner Truth said, “Ain’t I a woman?”  I repeated her question with determination as I carried the 70lb bag up and down hills in Georgia humidity.  I carried it into the many fishbowls of doing something first.  I carried into sporting events where I competed against and defeated male athletes.  I carried it into the debate team at Stanford, where I faced down such giants as Edward Teller (the Father of the Hydrogen Bomb) as we argued nuclear power, (yeah, that was ridiculous.)  And I’ve carried into countless churches as I have tried to demonstrate that power should not be assumed or hoarded.  We all benefit when strength is not assumed, but shared. 

30 years is a long time.  But in many ways, our ideas of who can and who can’t need to continue to grow and mature.  Any time we limit someone else,  we limit ourselves.  There is more to greatness than a green jacket.  But it is a gorgeous event to carry on.

Rev. Dr. E.A. Klein
Tacoma, WA