JACK CUTHBERTSON AND GERRY BUTLER
In 2016 the Club decided that the Club House needed a name. After all it was an impressive building and summed up the progress the Club had made since its humble beginning. It also represented the future in that the financial crisis had made it clear, that to survive, the Club needed a source of revenue independent of golf. In marketing terms, the name “Golf Club” meant something; but not as much as an association with two of the district’s more notable identities. Jack Cuthbertson and Gerry Butler not only were legends of the Club but they were Drouin people.
Just four years after the re-forming of the Club in 1955, Jack was made a Life Member. Yes, he did serve on the Committee for its first two years but you won’t find his name on the honour board as an office bearer or as a champion but he is deservedly remembered as a Club legend. What explains this remarkable achievement?
The Committee were very determined individuals but they were faced with an enormous task. The first nine holes were constructed on roughly cleared but undrained land within the Racecourse. While not quite a swamp, it was waterlogged and covered in tree roots and yabby holes. The second nine, which only existed in some people’s imagination, was thick bush.
And yet in the space of eight years this was converted to a full 18-hole course with grass greens despite the Club verging on being broke. That it was able to do this was due to the sheer hard work put in by many and the contributions of Jack. His earth moving equipment was just about on permanent loan to the Club. Well, not really on loan – Jack kept “forgetting” to forward a bill apart from the occasional requests to cover fuel costs. His excuse was that the equipment would just have been lying idle or that the men needed to be trained and this was as good a way as any.
How he was in a position to do this is worthy of comment. He was what was called a self-made man and as a measure of the times perhaps his like will never be seen again. He left school at Form Two but could hardly be said to have been uneducated because his education came from the school of life. He certainly knew how to do his maths but more importantly had an excellent eye for the value not only of land but people. Seeing an opportunity is one thing; converting the opportunity needs good people; he was always surrounded by good people.
He became an extremely successful businessman but I doubt if that description would have sat easily on his shoulders. When asked, he said he cut a bit of wood and milked a few cows. And he did mean cut and milk. He was a doer. John Kennedy, Hawthorne and North Melbourne coach, certainly would have had someone like him in mind when he said so memorably to his players, “Don’t think, just do.” They did and a premiership resulted.
He only expected others to do what he would. Sam Linklater became his son-in-law after he survived Jack’s scrutiny. With shoulder length hair it wasn’t straightforward but he passed the test and became part of the family and the team – and so did his car. From Jack’s point of view, the bench back seats were a waste of space when there were rocks that needed to be carted. Over Sam’s protests Jack got his way. But Jack did as much of the heavy lifting. Well into his eighties he could still be relied upon to do the hard physical work.
Jack wouldn’t mind this interruption if I relate this story about Sam. We were standing on the 15th and Sam was betting he would hit the tree on the right – he is a left hander – and no one would take the bet. No one thought he would do it deliberately; they just knew it would happen. It did.
Jack didn’t suffer fools gladly. He called a spade a spade. Graham Austin, a life-long friend and business associate, recalls a trip to America where of course everything is bigger and better. In conversation, an American farmer boasted that he milked about 1500. Strangely he wasn’t heard of again when Jack replied, “Interesting, I milk about 6000.”
Jack played a moderate golf game. His wife, Alice, played the game more seriously and achieved more success. Both were very much involved in the social scene that had the Golf Club as one of Drouin’s keys. It was just another way of putting back into the community that had given them so much. The plaque in Civic Park is testimony to the contributions he made to the Shire across a range of interests.
The Course today is vastly improved and changed from the early days but it still could be said in many ways that it is the Course that Jack built. Jack always appreciated a beer or two and would have liked having a function room named in his honour. For the Club it is entirely appropriate that this man to whom we owe so much should be remembered in this way.
If Jack Cuthbertson could be said to have built the course, it was people like Gerry who made the Club. The Club certainly thought so because in 1976 he became a Life Member.
It is not hard to see why. He had a long association with the Club even before he became a member. Between the wars the Club was located on his father’s property at Brandy Creek before the issue of transport brought the Club back to Drouin in Hopetoun Rd. However, it was the countless hours working around the Club that was key. He used his own tractor to mow the fairways and was always first to front for the working bees that helped transform wilderness into a proper golf course. In later years he was just about full-time starter. The dingy little office located just near the entrance of today’s pro shop was first port of call when we came to play.
And this highlights the other reason why he was made a life member: he always remembered a name and was ready for a chat. He made you feel welcome so that the Club became your Club.
Rex Greenland, another Life Member and the driving force behind the purchase of the Fairway Drive acres and his wife, Jill, were all set to join Warragul before they bumped into Gerry and had a little “chat”. That little chat may well end up seeing the Club through its current financial crisis.
His chatting was legendary. Jack Dwyer, Shane’s father told the story of a golfing trip that involved a car trip from Yarrawonga to Tocumwal. Gerry did not draw breath for the entire two hours. Mowing the grass was an all-day exercise. A bit like a modern Ritchie Thomas, no opportunity was lost to have a yarn and dispense some golfing advice.
It wasn’t just golfing advice. Gary Ablett, one of Drouin’s more famous sporting sons, was given the nickname God for his prodigious talent. Well, Gerry had that name before him. Why? Because he knew everything.
Laurie Moore, his nephew, who spent many a happy day on Gerry’s farm and still maintains a connection with the Club through the family sponsorship of the Butler Plate, said it was more than that. Gerry was a good Catholic but had no hesitation in telling a priest he had nearest the pin on the 14th and he did. Something about God works in mysterious ways.
By his side for all of this was his beloved life Monica who also made a mighty contribution to the Club. It even meant sometimes her telling him to be quiet when he wanted to add yet another story to the four he was already telling. For both, in later years, the Club became their life.
In 2002 it was entirely fitting that Gerry, along with another Life Member, Edna Cropley, be the first to play the new nine. Edna executed a gentle fade round the corner of the then eighth. Gerry didn’t muck around and simply cut the corner. That day Gerry cut quite a sight. He wore plus fours. It was a nice touch given 2002 was also our hundred-year anniversary.
He was tickled pink to be given the honour – especially as for a long while he had been a strong opponent of the scheme. He said we were building on a swamp. He was right about the swamp as those of you who played the (then) 11th and 12th up to your ankles in mud will remember. At some stage he changed his mind and became an enthusiastic supporter.
Gerry was a competent golfer but was a first-class person. So, picture this: Gerry is holding court with four or five conversations at once making everyone feel as though they belong. The “Butler Lounge Bar” could not be better named.
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