Going to Heaven with the Wrong Golf Ball
by John Miller

The New Hope Funeral Home was packed with Ed's friends along with golf collectors. Ed and I knew everyone of them. I got in front of Miss Joan in the viewing line. When we got up to the casket there was Edward Delle stretched out with the top up for a full view. He looked good in that Ben Hogan outfit wearing a pair of wing tips golf shoes and sand trap flaps, just like Hogan. But then I saw it, one thing was missing, a Titlest golf ball. Cradled in Ed's left hand was a Top Flight golf ball. Somebody had put the wrong ball in Ed's left hand. Edward Delle or Ben Hogan never played any golf ball other than a Titlest. The undertaker didn't know any different.

The last time I saw Ed was at of the Annual Golf Collectors Show down in Texas. He asked, "You are coming to my funeral aren't you? I’ve got a surprise!”

I was stunned and ask, “Sure, but what’s the surprise?”

Ed didn’t shock me when he said with that big smile of his, “I'm gonna be buried in Ben Hogan's clothes. It's going to be grand. Be sure and don't miss it. I did show you my Master’s Green Coat and solid gold buttons didn't I?"

I answered with a nod of my head, "You sure did. At first I had wondered what you plan to do with that coat and buttons. Now I know,” and I laughed, then said, “I wouldn't miss that tee time for anything. I've got to check you out in that casket to make sure things are correct.

I remembered the first time we met the Delles. Miss Joan and I had just walked into the restaurant in the hotel at the Annual Golf Collectors Meeting. Until then, I had never met Ed Delle. But, there in front of us sat Ed and Dru at a table. Ed waved to me as if he knew me and I thought he did. Miss Joan and I went over and said "Hello" and sat down. You would have thought we had known each other all our lives. But after awhile, I knew that this was the first time I had ever met the Delles. But it didn't make any difference.

Looking down into the coffin, I mumbled to Miss Joan, "It's perfect except for one thing; it's the wrong golf ball. That golf ball that Ed is holding is not a Titlest, but a Top Flight. Ben Hogan or Edward Dell never played a Top Flight in their life."

Miss Joan tugged at my coat and whispered, "No so loud, someone will hear you. Don't you think it doesn't make any different now. Ed had a good life. He can play any golf ball any place any time now. Anyway, who's gonna know the different?"

I turn my head and said in a whispter, "Me, and anybody who is a golfer. You just don't bury a golfer with the wrong ball. I'll bet Ed is having a fit wherever he is."

Miss Joan chuckled, "You can bury me with any kind of ball, even a basket ball. I wouldn't care. John, you are letting this get to you. Chill out a little, honey."

When I stepped away from the casket a picture on a little table caught my eye. There was an 8 by 10 picture of Ed in his Hogan outfit. I had forgotten he told me Dru was going to have some pictures made of him in his outfit. Folks do that now days.

I turn to Miss Joan and said, "Well, well, look here, his picture and all dressed up for the first tee. He even looks like Ben Hogan in that outfit."

Miss Joan said, "Well, I'll be, he does look like Ben Hogan. I wonder if Dru has anymore of those pictures. I think you ought to ask when she settles down."

I grinned, "I'll ask her about the picture later. But for now, I'm gonna tell Honey Child about that Top Flight golf ball," and walked over to where she sat.

Just about everyone called Dru by her nickname, "Honey Child." She was from Natchez, Mississippi where all proper and refined ladies of well breeding are called, "Honey Child".

I said to Dru, "Honey Child, I hate to tell you this, but Ed is holding the wrong golf ball, a Top Flight. You probably knew Ed played nothing but a Titlest ball; not a Top Flight."

She started crying, sobbing, and said, "No I didn't know. Ed wanted it to be perfect. Now he's going to the "Great Golf Course in the Sky" with the wrong golf ball. Bless his heart and he's going such a long way. What will Mr. Hogan think? Ed had always said that Ben Hogan was the Pro there at the golf course. Can you do something John?" and sobbed in a moaning tone.

It just about broke my heart. Honey Child thinks Ben Hogan will be mad and won't let him on the course because he has the wrong golf ball. I remembered, Ed used to talk about going to the "Great Golf Course in the Sky" and meeting Ben Hogan when he got there. Golfers are funny.

Anyway, I know I shouldn't have thought this, but I had to mummer to myself, "Women can say the silliest things sometimes. To think Ben Hogan won't let him on the golf course after he had come that far because he had the wrong golf ball. Why of course he would," and I laughed.

I hugged Honey Child and said, "Now dry your pretty eyes. We passed a golf shop just up the street from here. I'll run down there and get a sleeve of Titlest golf balls.

Honey Child said, "Can't you just buy one, John?"

I said, "I don't think so, but I'll put the other two in there with him. He can use them as mulligans (extra golf balls) when he gets wherever he's going."

The golf shop looked just about empty, but I saw someone in there. It was the owner and I ask him, "I need a sleeve of Titlest High Compression golf balls number '0'. Do you have that number?"

A big smile came across the man's face and he said, "Sure do. But, pardon me for asking; are you by chance with the Edward Delle funeral?"

I chuckled with surprise and said, "Sure am, did the black suit give me away?"

The owner laughed and said, "No, it wasn't the black suit. It was the Titlest balls. Ed Delle was a good friend of mine. When a customer would come in with a strange looking golf club, I would always call Ed. He would tell me about the club. I was down there at the funeral home this morning before I opened the golf shop and saw Ed. It's the wrong ball, a Top Flight. I can tell you know that Ed or Hogan never played a Top Flight in their life, only number '0' High Compression Titlest." Then he handed me the balls and said, "No Charge, good luck! But, what are you gonna do with the two extra balls?"

I grinned and said, "Why of course, use as mulligans. Thanks for the balls. Ed would have appreciated that!"

Back at the funeral home I said to Honey Child, "When there is no one in the viewing line, I'll slip up there and change the golf ball out. Stop worrying! This is a snap. No one will ever see me make the swap. Do you want me to get the gold buttons too?"

Honey Child shook her head and said, “Naw! Just leave them on. He will sure as hell know they are gone. Thanks anyway.”

Miss Joan replied, "You are nuts. Don't you think you might get caught? If you do, remember, I told you so."

I replied, "No way."

When the line came down and no one waiting, I slowly walked up to the casket, alone. I had the three golf balls in my suit pocket. I took one of them out, leaned over. Ed had a Ben Hogan glove on his right hand that lay across his chest. His left hand was cradled to hold the golf ball with his finger wrapped around the golf ball. With my left hand I tried to fold Ed's left hand fingers back. Lordy, his fingers were cold and wouldn't move. I tried harder. Still his fingers were locked. I didn't expect that. I thought they would simply fold back. Then I realized it was the rigormortis that had them locked. I set the Titlest ball on Ed chest. I wouldn't dare look at him but I did mummer, "Ed, turn the god damn ball loose."

Again I tried with both my hands. Still they wouldn't move. Then I heard a rough loud voice. It scared me and made me straighten up. The voice said, "What do you think you are you doing? Trying to steal poor Ed's golf ball," then the voice turned toward the crowd and shouted, "Honey Child, this thief is trying to steal Ed's golf ball. It's the golf ball Hogan won the Grand Slam with!"

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I turned my head too see what or who was screaming at me. It was a burly big woman in a San Diego County Correction Center for Women uniform waving a big leather red pocket book over her head. Standing behind her was another big woman, dressed in the same uniform. She wasn't alone either; she had a golf umbrella waving over her head and shouted, "Get him Ella Mae! Bust that thief with your pocket book. I'll hit him next!"

The first burly women swung her red pocket at me but I ducked. Her follow-thru knocked Ed's picture off the little table. Thank goodness, I had ducked just in time to slip to the back of Ed's casket to avoid a concussion.

Frightened, I shouted aloud, "My god, I'm being called a thief. Who in the world are these two bitches? I'm not a thief!"

Then I realized who they were. They were famous for that red pocket book and golf umbrella known as their war clubs. Lordy! Lordy! I could have been killed. It was the notorious Madame Broadbottom alias, Ella Mae Hoskins, and in her side kick, Lady Do'Wagger, alias Rachel Horntail. They were the number one spreaders of evil gossip in California. For entertainment they went around at night in the city beating up unmanageable helpless drunks with night sticks.

Talking about being blind-sighted, their attack was perfect. Where in the world did that come from all of a sudden? Then I realized their uniforms explained everything. Ed had been an honoree Sheriff and carried a pistol in his work, an insurance man. Those two bitches had come from the San Diego County Correction Center for Women where they worked. I had been told that Madame Broadbottom was the Center's Warden along with Lady Do'Wagger, her assistance. They had come to pay their respects when they got off duty. That explained their showing up at the end of the visiting line.

Suddenly, the room became silent. You could hear a mouse cough. Everyone in the place was looking at me and pointing their finger. There I stood with my mouth open with a golf ball in my hand.

One of the golf club collectors in the back shouted, "It's the famous Ben Hogan ball that the thief is stealing it! Look he's got it in his hand!"

Another golf collector shouted, "We all thought Ed had it. He said he was taking something to his grave we all would want. That's a million dollar golf ball."

Now everyone is calling me a thief. Nevertheless, before I had time to think, Madame Broadbottom tried another swing at me. But, I was too far under Ed's casket and avoided a massive head injury. However, Lady Do'Wagger had slipped around and invaded my right flank attacking me with her umbrella, a tested lethal weapon sure to god to put one on the floor. I took advantage of the bad swing and scooted farther under the safety of Ed's coffin and screamed, "Help! Get these bitches off me. They think I'm a thief!"

Things got worst when Madame Broadbottom started her frontal attack upon my unprotected rear with her cruel red leather pocket book. However, in the heat of battle and even under the treating shouts of both assailants, plus screeches of the moaners, I still clutched the Titlest golf ball.

With the only pitiful defense I could offer, I shouted, "Help! These two bitches are killing me. I'm not a thief."

Madame Broadbottom roared like a Lion, "Yes you are! Turn that golf balls loose you thief! Someone block the door! His kind always escapes. Sic him Rachel"

From under the corner of the casket I dashed through the flowers knocking them down as I ran to the front door. Out of the corner of my eye and now my body plagued with stress, I shouted, "Lo and behold, mother of God, they have all gone crazy. They are fighting among themselves," and again screamed, "Help! I'm not a thief!"

I saw that four ladies and Honey Child had fainted and the undertaker from down in the basement and others of digging ability were attending the needs of the fainted. I rushed out the door and ran three blocks before I felt safe from the two burly attackers. Both needed a shave.

The next day in the local section of the morning newspaper, the headlines read,

Thief Steals Million Dollar Golf Ball at Funeral Home. Yesterday, New Hope Funeral was the scene not of remorse, but of fear. While a funeral was taking place a very naughty thief was trying to commit an unacceptable act. According to witnesses present, the thief was exposed by two off duty county employees just in time. This unknown thief was leaning over the casket trying to remove a very valuable Ben Hogan golf ball. The golf ball was cupped in the left hand of the deceased, Mr. Edward Delle.

Madame Broadbottom and Lady Do'Wagger, two famous crime fighters of our own San Diego County Correctional Center for Women, saved the day. It seems they had offered their off duty protection for the famous Ben Hogan golf ball. Mr. Hogan had won his Grand Slam with this extremely valuable one of a kind golf ball. The deceased Mr. Edward Dell, a retired honoree of Sheriff Fiswoode Tarleton reign had been a good friend to the two county employees. There is no justice to the rumor that these two crime fighters in the past have engaged in beating up poor helpless drunks.

By all accounts, the fight upset the tranquility of the funeral home as the two crime fighters chased the thief around and under the casket. Screams and fainting occurred as the two crime fighters, with great vigor, administered harmful blows from a large red leather pocket book and a golf umbrella. Unfortunately, the thief escaped with the famous golf ball in his left hand and out the back door.

Unbelievable! For the first time, the funeral director, Mr. Horace Digger O'Dell had to call the police to stop the fighting among the guests. The unknown thief was blamed for the fight. Everyone has speculated that Mr. Edward Delle went to the Great Golf Course in the Sky with an unknown brand of golf ball. However, no one knew for certain.

Where the thief is, nobody knows. He was last seen running from the New Hope Funeral Home. In hot pursuit were out two famous crime fighters, Madame Broadbottom and Lady Do'Wagger. There is a reward for this valuable, one of a kind, million dollar golf ball. Any reports about this thief would be appreciated.

After I read the headlines that morning, I couldn't believe what I read. Miss Joan and I were having breakfast in the hotel restaurant when I looked up and said, "We need to get out of town as soon as possible. They think I stole the  Million Dollar Ben Hogan golf ball."

Miss Joan calmly said, "Remember? I told you so; you were going to get caught. What are you going to do now?"

A man and wife both wearing dark glasses are seen running toward an airplane. The lady has a scarf over her head and the man has his hat pulled over his eyes.  They are seen boarding the airplane to Tennessee. The Tennessee man  swore never to return to California. In his den is a black Titlest High Compression number '0' golf ball mounted on a board. Under the board a Message reads, "The Million Dollar Ben Hogan Golf Ball."

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