Remembering the day I spent with Arnold Palmer

Arnold Palmer made the 20th hole in one of his career at the age of 82.

— I've been mesmerized watching ESPN and Golf Channel takes on the passing of Arnold Palmer. Indeed, he was the king as far as the golf world.

I always knew this, but it was hammered home the last two nights. I sat in tears as I watched it. I was always an Arnie guy.

First, my father, Orville Henry, explained in depth what Arnold Palmer meant to the game. He was a great golf writer and had two brothers who were PGA club pros.

They benefited greatly when the golf business boomed in the '60s. Both were barely making a living until things changed with the advent of golf coverage on TV. It was all about Arnold Palmer and everyone knew it.

When Arnold Palmer was mentioned in family gatherings around the holidays, it was in impressive tones. He was talked about like no one else by my uncles and my father. They loved him and for good reason. They loved golf and saw how Palmer changed the game.

I have to tell my Arnold Palmer story, much like all the ones I've heard about on ESPN and the Golf Channel. I'd call it a typical Arnold Palmer story. And there's also one from Bill Connors, my mentor at the Tulsa World.

The first is mine. I've retold it through the years many times. I was at the Tulsa World for almost 14 years, much of that time as the golf columnist. That's a pretty cool beat in Oklahoma because of the large focus on golf in that state. There have been major championships held at both Southern Hills Country Club in Tulsa and Oak Tree Golf Club in Edmond. I covered them at both courses.

Oak Tree has been a big part of golf in the state since opening in Edmond in 1976. I covered many state amateurs, Oklahoma Opens and college events there, maybe a couple of dozen. I became good friends with Hugh Edgmon, the Oak Tree president for many years.

It was at the 1988 PGA Championship that I covered that I had my Arnold Palmer moment. It was mainly because of Edgmon. He and I had played golf many times during the lead-ups to tournaments at Oak Tree, both at the men's club and the family course. Hugh liked to play with me and we were good friends. He had arranged for me to play with Pete Dye, the Oak Tree course designer, at the media event before the '88 PGA.

It was the morning of the first round of the '88 PGA when Hugh found me in the media tent. It was about an hour from Palmer's tee time. Remember, Palmer never won the PGA, the lone miss on his list of seven major championship wins. He wasn't going to win in '88 because no longer was he a big threat in those type of tournaments.

But he still was there and it was a story. He had come in the day before for a brief practice round and had not done any interviews because of the late arrival.

"Do you want to talk to Arnie?" Hugh said, grinning from ear to ear. "He'll see you in the locker room right now. I'll take you."

I practically ran with Hugh. I was beside myself.

I was introduced and quickly did the interview, just me and him in a back corner of the locker room. By then it was 45 minutes from his tee time, a point that I would have considered time to head to the practice tee. I was told that I would have five minutes, more than enough to get a column in my mind.

I called him Mr. Palmer about three times before he stopped me.

"Clay, I'm not going to call you Mr. Henry," he said, "as long as you stop calling me Mr. Palmer. Clay, it's Arnie. Do you have that now, Clay?"

I stumbled around for Arnie a couple of times before going back to Mr. Palmer.

"Clay, we will stop this if you do it again," he laughed.

So we talked, me and Arnie. I think it was about some of his near misses at the PGA - typical stuff a reporter might bring up.

Finally, it was about 10 minutes before his tee time. Hugh walked back to our corner, and said, "Arnie, we have it roped off between the front door and the first tee. You can get there and not have to stop."

"Hugh, I am Arnold Palmer," Palmer replied. "I sign autographs. I'll sign them all the way to the tee. Take down the ropes. Lets go, Clay."

I asked him how many autographs he could sign on our walk.

"All of them," he said. "I'm Arnold Palmer. I sign them all. I'll at least try to sign them all."

And there he went, signing everything put in front of him for 10 minutes. He was actually right on time at the first tee. He took a couple of practice swings and let it fly to a typical Arnie's Army roar.

I had planned something else for that day, the first round of the PGA. But I changed my mind. I found myself inside the ropes with Arnold Palmer. I was standing next to his caddie after his tee shot. He had to wait for two more tee shots. He came to my side.

"That's how I do it," Arnie said. "Glad we got to talk."

Then, he turned to Hugh Edgmon and winked. Off he went, making eye contact with fan after fan, giving thumbs up and waving to supporters for 18 holes. Then he signed every autograph all the way back to the locker room.

Palmer shot 74 that day, then 76 on Friday to miss the cut. He signed autographs as if he was winning. He did it in typical Arnie style, handling every request like it was the first.

I came back from Oak Tree to deliver that story to Bill Connors, then the sports editor at the Tulsa World. He said he had a good Palmer story, too. It was before the 1977 U.S. Open, the year before I got to the paper.

There was a Connors interview with Palmer the day before the first round at Southern Hills. That night, Bill was telling his wife Nita about the one-hour session with The King. Nita wanted to go to the golf course to watch Palmer.

"He's the best looking man in the world," Nita said.

So Bill arranged for her to see her first golf tournament, sitting beside the 12th green for an hour to make sure there was a good chance to see Palmer.

Palmer recognized Bill as he arrived at the 12th green, giving a thumbs up, in typical Arnie style.

"When he putted out, he came straight to us, stuck out his hand for Nita, and then hugged her," Bill said. "He told Nita that he was aware that I had an attractive wife, but the stories didn't do her justice."

And away Palmer went, after melting two more with his charm. That was during tournament play. He could be that way.

Bill Connors wasn't big on golf, but he was big on Arnold Palmer. That's the way it was with all of America. You might not know golf, but you did know what The King was doing.

For sure, I always did after '88 at Oak Tree. That's what Arnold Palmer did to almost everyone he met. And that's why I cried watching all of those well-done segments of ESPN and The Golf Channel the last two nights.

The King will live forever.