Buhl Park was built by a wealthy industrialist who wanted everyone to play for free.
Josh Sens
The best things in life are free, except for golf.
Golf costs money.
Unless you find yourself within easy driving distance of Sharon, Penn., in the flowing, western part of the state where Tom Roskos and Adam Scott (no, not that Adam Scott) were raised.
Born seven years apart, Roskos, 47, and Scott, 40, weren't friends as children, but they have a lot in common. Both were from low-income households. Both excelled in sports. And both introduced golf at Buhl Park Golf Course, a leafy 9-hole course that was priceless. It was better than that.
For anyone, at any time, the cycle price was nada. Zilch. It is still the same today.
“When you're a kid, you don't know any better, so you don't know how lucky you are to have a free lesson in your backyard,” Roskos said. But now, looking back, we appreciate how lucky we were, and we see the importance of keeping a place like this alive.”
What a free course (one of the few of its kind in the country) became a story of great wealth and generosity. It revolves around 20th century industrialist Frank H. Buhl, who was born in Detroit, but built his life and fortune in Sharon (70 miles north of Pittsburgh), where, in the late 1800s, he founded. a steel company named after him.
Although Buhl and his wife, Julia, lived in a Roman palace, they ignored the one percent, due to local concerns. They gave generously to the community, financing the construction of the area's first hospital, cemetery, library, and Episcopal church. Among other gifts the Buhls gave to the community was a 300-acre parcel, which they purchased and turned into a park, complete with hiking trails, an 11-acre lake, and a 9-hole course that opened in 1914.
Over time, the locals began to call it the “Dum Dum” course, although this was not considered a derogatory term. In all likelihood, it was a romantic era for a track that accommodated all abilities. Elite skill was not required. There was no money, either. That part was handled by the Buhls, who gave the park in perpetuity with the intention of keeping its services free.
Details like that, lost on Roskos and Scott growing up, are on their minds these days.
In adulthood, as in childhood, they have a lot in common. From their early days on the Dum Dum courses, both went on to careers as certified PGA professionals. In those roles, their paths crossed many times. In recent years, they have grown closer than ever. Scott is now the director of golf at Buhl Park, and Roskos is the executive director, which, technically, makes him Scott's boss. But don't worry about qualifications. The big point is this: Together, they are the masters of the free 9-hole course that served as their start to the game.
Buhl Park has been in operation since 1914.
Josh Sens
Roskos has been active for a long time, having signed on in 2015, by which time, the course had seen better days. For all the big Buhls, there were limits on the funding they left behind. Their endowment has put $650,000 a year into the entire park and all its facilities, not just the courses. That was enough money to keep the vegetable bill to zero, but not enough to maintain the proper location.
As conditions worsened, studies slipped into the kind of death that destroyed many of the jobs held by money. The board of trustees that oversees the endowment came within one vote of shutting down Dum Dum.
Recognizing the need for revenue, Roskos led a series of fundraisers, scraping together money to reopen the driving range that was added to Buhl Park in the 1990s, until it closed in 2010. That was something. Buckets of balls bring some dough. But it was not a long-term solution. The budget remained in line. There was no clubhouse and no pro shop, just a check-in sheet at the range. Retention of studies was low. Fairways and greens are mowed once a week.
Dum Dum's course was still limping in 2020, when Roskos and Scott had a chance encounter in an unlikely place. Scott, who was between golfing jobs, was selling cars at a dealership, and Roskos was looking for a car. While they were talking in the area, the two started talking about Buhl Park.
“We both agreed that, just because the lessons are free, it doesn't mean there has to be a mistake,” said Scott. “But if it's going to be sustainable, many parts of it will have to be run as a business.”
In June of that year, Scott came on board to help with that. Time was good, and golf was close to epidemic. Using that momentum, Roskos and Scott scrambled for financial support, scrounging money from private donations and grants, which they had put into building a small professional shop with two pay-as-you-go emulation bays.
More revenue came in, as did donations, unleashing a more ambitious project: a clubhouse, with three simulators and a free house on the putting green, equipped with high-tech training equipment.
Every bit counts. A large bucket of assorted balls at Buhl Park costs $10. Simulators rent for $20 to $40 an hour, depending on the day and time of year. Snacks and drinks can be bought in the pro shop, but the round still fetches the same as before: nothing. And the course that once ran $250,000 annual losses is now close to breaking even. By adding clinics and other offerings, Roskos and Scott envision a day when there may be a profit, all of which will be put back into the course.
George Mesaros plays Buhl Park about four times a week.
Josh Sens
In the meantime, they have strengthened the workforce and increased maintenance. The fairways are well maintained. Vegetables are now cut five times a week. On a recent autumn afternoon in Buhl Park, with the leaves from the tree arrangement, the impact of these efforts was evident. The range was full. Two in the casting line were busy. And Dum Dum's study saw many things.
A par-34 of just over 2,300 yards, there's no mistaking the championship course. But it's all a golfer like George Mesaros could ask for.
A 65-year-old military veteran who served two tours in the Middle East, Mesaros was among those on the air, enjoying the four-a-week tour. Standing on the tee box of the 4th hole, a short, straight par 4, he moved, swung, split and smiled.
“This place is precious to me,” he said. “And you can't beat the price.”
For more information about Buhl Park, or to offer your support, visit buhlpark.org.
Josh Sens
Golf.com Editor
Golf, food and travel writer, Josh Sens has been a contributor to GOLF Magazine since 2004 and now contributes to all areas of GOLF. His work has been honored in The Best American Sportswriting. He is also the author, with Sammy Hagar, of Are We Having Any Fun Yet: The Cooking and Partying Handbook.
