Eye on the Ball: A peek into the past at Island heroes

Back in 1960, I made my first trip to Shelter Island as a 19-year-old assistant golf pro from Southampton Golf Club. Prior to the trip, I was told, “If you don’t know somebody on the Island, just say ‘Hello, Mr. Dickerson or Mr. Clark,’ and most likely you’ll be right.”

Good advice more than 50 years ago, but over time, like everything else, things have changed.

This week I had the pleasure of sitting down with the “Dickerson boys,” cousins George and Bill, at the end of what should be called “The Dickerson Era.” With both guys pushing 90, the time is perfect to tell their story. After all, through most of the 20th century, the Dickersons were the Island athletes in all sports and George and Bill did the Dickerson legacy proud.

Although they played all sports, golf, baseball and basketball were their standout best. They agreed the best athletes of the bunch were their Uncle Gardner Dickerson and George’s brother, Buddy. Gardner won the Suffolk County Open in golf and Buddy set the high scoring record for Suffolk County in basketball. They didn’t have to go far to show off their skills. The Dickerson family grew up in four houses across the street from the second fairway at Goat Hill, making it their playground for golf and baseball.

There were only five basketball players on their team because Shelter Island was less populated in those days; they couldn’t foul out since they had to play the entire game. Many a contest was lost in the last period because of physical exhaustion.

In golf, George had two great memories: While in the service in Tokyo, he had the opportunity to play golf with the legendary “Slammin’” Sammy Snead. Today, Snead still holds the record for the most PGA tournaments won (81), but on that day he was outdone by a Shelter Island boy named George Dickerson. George’s other highlight? Shooting his age when he was 68 years old.

George had a stroke a few years ago. He almost called me to cancel our interview, claiming his memory was shot. That turned out to be malarkey as soon as Cousin Billy started talking about the old days. They both kept talking and remembering things, such as when the two of them were 12 years old, walking through the woods above the first fairway at Goat Hill and finding cases of liquor hidden under brush in the woods. When they told Bill’s father, he called Police Chief Pierre Tybaert and it wasn’t long before a liquor store robbery was solved. All they had to do was wait for someone to arrive and pick up the treasure. Fortunately for them, a Mr. Lux fell into their trap.

Growing up on Shelter Island gave them great memories and a chance to talk about how different the Island is today. In their day, they truly lived off the land and the sea. Everyone raised chickens and feasted on ducks, pheasants, quail, venison, rabbits, fish, clams and scallops. During dinner the night before at a restaurant, Bill felt sick when he realized he was paying a dollar for every littleneck clam on his plate. He couldn’t help but tell me how easy it was to dig for them.

Their freewheeling youth ended suddenly on December 7, 1941 when another island was attacked a world away. Bill was 18 in 1943 when he was drafted into the Army, while George entered the Army Air Corps a year later when he turned 18.

George, at 19, was the youngest bomber pilot in the Army Air Corps. He flew B-17 Flying Fortresses, the plane that established itself as dropping more bombs than any other aircraft in World War II.

He also recalled that he was in the 388th bomber group out of England. He smiled as he said, “That is where I learned to drink scotch.” When he wasn’t on bombing missions, he spent most of his time dropping food for soldiers fighting in Europe.

As if this service wasn’t enough, George also served in Korea flying C-46s, a transport aircraft that at the time was the largest twin-engine aircraft in the world. His main duty during that conflict was flying wounded soldiers to Japan. The scary thing about this duty was North Koreans hiding in hayfields who were constantly shooting at his plane.

Bill served in the Army infantry, in charge of 50 caliber machine guns. One day he was ordered to fire a 155 millimeter field gun called “Long Tom.” He recalled pulling a coil to fire “Long Tom” and was told something about the recoil. The last thing he remembered was seeing parachute flares in the sky. The next thing Bill remembered was waking up in England.

He was informed he’d been knocked 20 feet from the gun. When he saw his helmet, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The helmet was nothing but a load of dents. Since that day 70 years ago, Bill has never had hearing in his left ear.
The Dickerson boys grew up. George became an American Airlines captain and Bill was a successful Shelter Island electrician with his own business. Although they stopped playing other sports, they still played a lot of golf together.

George became friendly with the great Arnold Palmer (The King), meeting Palmer on a flight from New York to Dallas when he invited Palmer in the cockpit to fly the plane.

Bill went on to become one of the finest golfers at Gardiner’s Bay, winning seven club championships and runner-up another eight times. Before he retired from playing, Bill racked up 10 senior championships.

It was entertaining to listen to the two of them tell story after story about the Dickerson family, like cousin Tink and Ronnie, sisters Dot and Olive, Aunt Babe, brothers Raymond and Buddy and Uncles Gardner, Henry, George and Bill. On leaving, George smiled, amazed at how much Billy had helped him recall.

Although there are still a few young Dickersons around, to me, these Dickerson boys are the tail end of a long period of a family who controlled sports in this town. I captured some of their story, and I hope someday you will talk to them and get the rest of it.