Barefoot golf is making a comeback, but you'll have to get up early to catch it. Proponents say playing at dawn, in the morning dew, is the best time and has the advantage of avoiding the glares of other members at the private clubs where strict dress codes rule. Proponents say there are many benefits of golfing barefoot: improved balance, reduced stress on your foot-bones and joints, a better feel for the lay of the land and the texture of the grass and sand, and it lowers your center of gravity, which lends to a firmer connection to the ground and a more stable swing. It's fun too!

Barefoot golf first came to this area in 1915 with the arrival of Hilda Smith, 19, daughter of David Smith, the new golf pro at the Cedar Rapids Country Club. Dave had served as the pro at links in Cleveland and DeKalb before coming here. The Smiths lived on the grounds and made it a family business. While Dave managed the club, maintained the grounds and gave lessons to the men, Hilda instructed the ladies.

The benefits of barefoot golf were manifold, according to Hilda:

"Health experts say it allows electricity to pass from the earth to the body. . . it wakens you up and gives you a perfectly wonderful appetite. It's also a protection against colds and. . . is good for the feet." (Cedar Rapids Republican, July 1, 1915) Hilda recommended wearing light sandals initially, to toughen the soles, and watching out for stones; she dismissed as "foolish" the old wive's tale that going barefoot would cause your feet to grow larger. (ibid.)

Dave Smith stayed in CR just a couple of years before moving on to Salt Lake and later LA, but credit him with expanding the 9-hole course and giving us this area's first 18-hole link. Hilda settled here and married Leon G. Lesenger a Kenwood feedstore owner. They had a son, David G., before separating. Leon stayed and remarried; Hilda moved to California where she adopted the name "Betty," and married George Trauger, a San Diego hydraulics engineer and irrigation system superintendent.

Barefoot golfing first took hold at the beginning of the 20th century among golfers attracted to the theories of Rev. Sebastian Kneipp (1821-1897), a Bavarian Catholic priest and naturopath. Kneipp was famous for advocating his "Barefoot Cure," which he claimed cured everything from colic to cancer. Basically, his remedy was a modified "water cure." Kneipp prescribed walking barefoot on wet stones, in wet grass, shallow pools or in fresh snow, 30-90 minutes/day. Kneipp's movement spread rapidly to the U.S. and it was common at the turn of the century to see large parties of advocates in the East Kneipping in city parks, ignoring the "keep-off-the-grass" signs. Where police-pressure was persistent and grass yards scarce, wet tea leaves on the dining room carpet served the purpose.

Some credit St. Louis newsman, William E. ("Bicycle") Hicks (1861-1942) with popularizing the game of barefoot golf. (St. Louis Post-Dispatch; December 5, 1909) The Bavarian priest wasn't a golfer himself, but Hicks reasoned playing the links barefoot in wet grass combined Kneipp's fundamental belief in hydrotherapy with his theory that shoeless strolls stimulated circulation in the extremities and sped excretion of harmful waste products through the pores of the foot. Kneipp's recipe for health called for physical outdoor exercise in the clean air, a healthy diet and a balanced mind. . . all instantly achievable, according to golf fanatics like Hicks, by starting each day with nine barefoot holes.

The Cedar Rapids Golf Club was organized in 1898. For a decade they operated independently from the ultra-exclusive CR Country Club, which started up the previous winter. The golfers leased 50 acres near Bever Park until 1908 when the Cedar Rapids Country Club was formally reorganized and permanent golfing grounds were secured. Seven elite Marion residents joined the prestigious club including T.J. Davis, F. A. Shumak, E. Hollingsworth, J.B. Wilson, F. L. Anderson, F. J. Cleveland and H. S. Scampton. The lack of suitable property and serious golf-interest hampered Marion's efforts to form a local country club, but in the Spring of 1925 organizers took a page from the Monticello community-playbook and leased the Interstate Fairgrounds. Dues were $25/year. In exchange for maintaining the property all summer, members were granted the right to turn the 45-acre site into a golf course. Nine circuitous fairways were arranged around the existing trees and structures. The large cattle barn was designated a natural hazard. The fair's dining hall became the new club house; the poultry house was turned into a locker room. The greens were just closely mowed patches of grass that mostly died in the summer heat and then were replaced by sand. The sand blew away until the grounds committee thought of oiling it. Women complained about the mess and stains, but the putters won out. The Country Club became the center of Marion's summer social-life and remained so for many years. Fair-goers agreed the grounds had never looked so good that August, but it did little to boost Fair attendance, and in 1926 the owners sold the property to the Marion Country Club. The name-change to Indian Creek Country Club came in 1940. We're coming up on their big 100th anniversary and we should celebrate with a major tournament--barefoot, of course!

Reminder: the Sports exhibit closes Feb. 24. Tours are available and admission is always free courtesy of the McIntyre Foundation. ... See MoreSee Less

1 week ago  ·  

When Marion went Crazy over Toboggans.

News reports last week told of someone else dying in an attempt to get a "selfie" in a dangerous location. There are now whole websites dedicated to distributing the videos these foolish people take. Scientists say we are hard wired to take risks and watch others doing so; in the ancient past we learned from their success or failure, and it prepared us to act when necessary. Some people are addicted to thrill-seeking and the dopamine rush it gives their brains, and the internet provides a large audience today, eager to imagine the risk. Given a choice of channels, TV-watching chimpanzees prefer videos of danger and violence over almost anything else. So evolution may help explain the passion for toboggans that struck the U.S. in the 1880's.

Americans flocked to the inaugural Montreal Ice Carnival in 1883 and experienced the excitement of toboggans for the first time. They went crazy! The speed was like nothing they had ever seen. First-time riders reported feeling "queer" and "a little strange," . . . "like falling in space," only safe, as they quickly learned. (Cedar Rapids Standard; February 10, 1887) The Montreal festival remained a popular tourist attraction for years and many of our winter sports, including hockey, trace their origins to this annual event. U.S. entrepreneurs sought to capitalize on the toboggan fad by building slides and marketing special equipment, clothing and accessories like cushions and jewelry.

Local newspapers announced, "Ministers need no longer preach against rollerskating. The rink has had its day, and its new rival, the toboggan slide,will ruin the roller skate trade. Tobogganing is the sport of the future, and it will be useless for any man to resist it." (Cedar Rapids Evening Gazette; March 18, 1885) By 1887 most towns in Iowa, including CR, had formed clubs to erect and manage their own toboggan slides.

The Cedar Rapids Toboggan Club was formed in 1887 and attracted about 30 charter members. The President of the club was attorney and Democratic Party luminary Nicholas McIvor (1860-1915), who was later appointed US Ambassador to Japan. Druggist and all-around sportsman, John Mateer (1850-1937), was elected Secretary. The CR organizers had previously cooperated in an ice skating venture, but their plans had melted away in a standard Iowa mid-winter thaw. (Cedar Rapids Times; January 27, 1887) A meadow near Bever Park was chosen for the 40 ft. high, 160 ft. long toboggan slide, and an estimated 300-400 people came out to participate in the Opening Day excitement. (Cedar Rapids Standard, February 10, 1887. Some who watched the screaming riders swore they wouldn't try it for $100. . . and talked into trying it once, vowed they had never had more fun in their lives and stayed all day! (Cedar Rapids Times; February 10, 1887) That dopamine is dangerous stuff . . . .

Marionites immediately began agitating for their own slide and put out feelers with respect to the Davis hill, just across the creek. Nothing came of it, however, and the town's young people had to content themselves that winter with using the CR and Van Horne slides.

Marion arranged its own toboggan slide, however, the following winter. It was built adjoining the F. A. Knowlton Creamery at 9th Ave. and 7th St. It stood 30 ft. high and was 80 ft. long, and offered 800 ft. of coasting space. Proper dimensions were everything to attract young couples--steep was good, but not so fast and scary that gentlemen were distracted from their courting by the need to watch the course and steer safely.

Our local club officers included: photo studio-owner Herb Elliot (1850-1894), President; Fred Knowlton (1853-1933). Vice-President; druggist, Carl N. Owen (1859-1945), Treasurer, and; Henry A. Stearns (1859-1937), the Linn County Deputy District Clerk, who served as Secretary. They all were active in promoting Marion sports for many years. The slide did a "land office" business in the winter of 1888, attracting crowds late into the evening, and the business performed well the next year too, but the craze ended in 1890. The vagaries of Iowa weather and all-too-common mid-January warm spells made slides difficult to maintain and the returns uncertain. Iowans discovered bicycles about that time too, and toboggans were soon forgotten.

Marion's winter sports-fans rediscovered toboggans in the 1950's when the American Legion Post #298 expanded Veterans Memorial Park, adding 43 acres on the west side of the creek, including a natural amphitheater older Marion residents knew as "Twogood's Hill," and youngsters called "Suicide Hill." However, when the park was sold to the City in 1968 the top portion of the slope was closed and berms were added to flatten the incline and reduce the number of ambulance calls . . . spoiling forever the fun of thrill-seeking residents and perhaps a few TV-watching chimpanzees.

see Henry Stearns at Find a Grave memorial #12084927 (in Oak Shade)
see Carl N. Owen at #21736869 (Oak Shade)
see Herb Elliot at #21736335 (Oak Shade)
Frederick A. Knowlton moved to Seattle and is buried there.
see Mateer at #196154003 (Oak Hill)
see McIvor at #141588862 ... See MoreSee Less

1 month ago  ·