Posted on: Dec 31, 2024 at 6:33 AM

Posted on: Dec 31, 2023 at 6:33 AM

Posted on: Dec 31, 2022 at 1:41 PM

Happy Birthday Mike!! Have fun!! BONNIE MCHALE BARRON

Posted on: Dec 31, 2022 at 6:33 AM

In my senior year I had two classes with Vern and Darryll, in one class I sat in the back of the classroom with the two of them, I didn't do well in that class but it was a riot every day, lots of laughs, in the other class it was Mr. Pricert's english class. Mr. Pricert had us read as he was working on some papers for a class or presentation he was to make that night at U.C. Berkeley. He had to leave the classroom for a while and put Vern in charge (I questioned his judgement on this). After he left either Vern or Darryll went out and came back with a fake throwup barf that looked very real. They put it on top of his paperwork and had Darryll sit at the desk. When Mr. Pricert came back to the class, Vern said "oh Mr. Pricert, I had Darryll come up to read and he got sick". I watched Mr. Pricert's face go completely white as he was horrified, just then Vern picks up the barf and says "we were only kidding", at that moment the entire classroom erupted in laughter that you could hear around the entire school. Mr. Pricert was so happy his paperwork was okay he dismissed the class. The last time I saw Darryll and Vern together was when they were home on leave from the Marine Corp and showed up at a JC dance. Their stories of their expereinces at basic training were very funny, especially when Vern was caught wearing his Marine Corp PT trunks backwards and had explain why to the DI. They held court for hours. I miss the laughs we used to have.  

I was told about this article by Ford Willey and I was able to obtain it through Jim's sister Mary Hempler (Huddleston). It's from the Santa Rosa Press Democrat under today's comment by George Hower, April 21st, 1967. I think the article reflects the Jim Hempler I knew.

"Few People Were As Wealthy in Friends"

The thing he wanted most out of life was to be a professional golfer.

He hungered to have a try at going on tour, maybe to win a few tournaments, and to gain fame and security. The last two goals were no more, no less, than what any one else asked of life in his or her way.

He was the kind of guy every one would have rooted for right away.

He was tall and handsome, polite to every one and well-liked by any one who knew him.

The person we're talking about is Jim Hempler.

He addressed every one as "Mr." or "Mrs." and when the ladies went to play golf on Wednesday they were greeted as "Mrs. Manker", "Mrs. Fisher", "Mrs. Jewell". On Thursday, when husbands and wives went together for one of their weekly Resident's Tournaments, they received the same polite treatment. 

As a golf pro, he would of had it made. Tall and handsome and yet shy and boyish looking, he brought out the mother instinct. Yet he also was the clean-cut kind of guy any father would want his son to look like when he grew up.

It was no affectation. That was the way he'd been reared to greet people. His politeness wasn't the veneer that some people take on and off, like a sweater, when it suits their purpose.

Man or woman, young or old, golfer or not, they all liked Jim when they met him.

He even called us "Mr. Hower', and if he didn't see us around Oakmont Golf Course for a few weeks, he'd find out why.

The last time we talked to him was a couple of days ago when he caklled the golf results in.

"It is I, Jim Hempler of Oakmont golf course", he the assistant golf pro kidded himself. 

He fed us the golf scores and we could tell from his voice he was tickled to be back in his beloved pro shop, getting experience under head pro Ford Willey, and being where he could walk in the fresh air and blue skies and practice the shots that might someday make him famous.

Unfortunately, we didn't have much time to talk to him that day. Rushed with other things, we had to be short with him. But we could tell from his voice how happy he was to be working with head pro Ford and assistant Jim Widener.

That was the last time we talked to him, for on Tuesday of this week he died on Oakmont golf course retrieving golf balls. His big, strong looking body hid one defect. He had a history of epilepsy. Only his close friends, Ford, Jim Widener and Clubmaster John Lane, among others, knew. or had any reason to know.

Jim had gone out to retrieve balls hit earlier in the day by Ford.

"Why don't you pitch them up to the flag and then pick them all up" Ford suggested.

That was mid-afternoon. It was late afternoon, long after the time when Jim should have been back in the shop, his duties done, when Ford became concerned.

Ford took a cart and went out searching for Jim whom he thought might have wandered off to play a hole or two.

No one can, and no one wants to "believe it". The more we think of it, the harder it is to write this. At 24 years, the young Napa man's end came too soon.

Ford remembers seeing the movie "Song of Bernadette", recently. 'For those who are religious, this movie needs no explantation, for those who are not religious, this movie offers no explanation.' "

Few people like Jim are put here. Luckily we had the pleasure to know him, and, although he never had the opportunity to become a Palmer or a Nicklaus, he was still a pro.