by Fred Seely
Editorial Director
To many, Arnold Palmer is identified with his home of Latrobe, Pa. or his primary residence of Orlando. To some, North Florida has at least a reasonable claim.
Golf’s greatest name has lent that name to real estate projects in this area for almost 40 years. He has lived here, played here and partied here. It is close to his heart and his pocketbook.
“Jacksonville has been part of my life,” said Palmer while here for a visit to the World Golf Hall of Fame exhibit of his memorabilia.
Palmer’s friendship with Dr. W.T. “Doc” Coppedge led to his long
relationship to Jacksonville, one that was solidified when he merged his budding golf course architecture business with Ed Seay of Ponte Vedra Beach.
Coppedge was the scion of a wealthy maritime family that controlled the area’s tugboats. He was trained as a dentist but, being a restless sort who didn’t envision a future of looking into the mouths of others, decided to test the golf market.
Coppedge owned a large tract in Arlington and persuaded a few other wealthy friends to go into a venture that would be unique to Jacksonville: an all-men’s golf club.
Many believe that Palmer designed the original Hidden Hills; actually, it was Dave Gordon from Philadelphia. Palmer wasn’t into the architecture business in 1966.
Somewhere around that time, Palmer and Coppedge got to know each other.
“I can’t remember the occasion,” said Coppedge. “Maybe we were trying to sell him the golf course. Hidden Hills was a good idea but maybe the all-men idea wasn’t. The wives killed us. We couldn’t get enough members because the wives thought we were up to mischief out there.
“Arnold and (his late wife) Winnie were in town and I took them out there for a look.”
That day started a friendship that endured for almost 40 years. Palmer would send his airplane to pick up Coppedge at Cecil Field and the fun would begin, no matter where the golf tournament was.
“Miami, Charlotte, Augusta, New York,” said Coppedge. “We had a hell of a time.”
Notable was a house that Coppedge rented during the Masters which was equipped with every party item imaginable, including a blackjack table and a croupier flown in from Las Vegas.
“That was a big hit,” Coppedge said with a raspy laugh.
Palmer was one of the first members at Hidden Hills and stayed in one of the course’s condos during the Greater Jacksonville Opens. The tournament later was played at Deerwood, where Coppedge owned a condo on the second tee, and Palmer stayed there, too.
“It was one of my favorite tournaments,” he said last month when he was here for the opening of the World Golf Hall of Fame exhibit of his memorabilia. “I hate to admit that I didn’t have much success, though.”
Seay knows why.
“The GJO was a fun tournament and everyone had a great time,” he said. “It wasn’t like the The Players Championship is today. It wasn’t rigid.”
Unspoken: Palmer had a good time off the course.
Coppedge, Palmer and several others partnered in the development of an apartment complex on Atlantic Boulevard. Just north of University Boulevard, it had the somewhat pretentious name of “Villa de Palmereaux” but the prestige of Palmer’s name didn’t carry over to apartment rentals and it eventually was sold. It’s still there under another name, The Carlton.
“We each had an apartment there,” said Coppedge. “When my wife threw me out of the house, that’s where I’d go.”
Palmer also stayed there, as did his agent, Mark McCormack, who founded the giant IMG company.
On this November day, Palmer is sitting on a tractor in the World Golf Hall of Fame. He is slightly stooped and his hair is white, but he doesn’t seemed far removed from the man whose charisma turned the PGA Tour from a week-to-week group of wanderers into a global phenomenon.
Palmer sitting on a tractor would be a ridiculous sight, considering that everyone is indoors, but it is part of the Arnold Palmer exhibit at the Hall. The tractor was from his Latrobe, Pa. course, and the man who has been a major part of the area’s golf community is now celebrated with roomfuls of such memorabilia.
“I’ve had a long relationship with this area,” said Palmer during his visit. “I guess I played in almost all the Jacksonville Opens until it went away, and of course I have had my design business with Ed Seay here for 35 years.”
Palmer met Seay in Winston-Salem, N.C.
“I designed a course and he played an exhibition there,” said Seay. “On the third tee, he turned to the owner and said ‘Who designed this?’ The guy pointed at me. Arnold called me out of the gallery and I walked with him the rest of the round, then we had a beer in the locker room.
“He said, ‘If the opportunity comes up, would you like to work together?’ I was awed. Of course I would.”
Ten days later, Seay was laying a patio in his Ponte Vedra back yard and his wife Lynn brought him the phone.
“She said, ‘The guy says he’s Arnold Palmer so I think it’s ‘Country.’”
Jim “Country” Hattaway was a family friend who liked to imitate voices.
“He’d call and use a Mexican accent and say ‘Seenyor, theese ees Lee Trevino,’ things like that. But it wasn’t ‘Country.’ It really was Arnold,” said Seay.
A deal was cut and Palmer Course Design became part of the Jacksonville community.
“Eighteen days later, I got another call,” recalled Seay.
“Do you have a passport?”
“No, but I can get one.”
“Get one. We need you to go to Tokyo.”
That was the start of the international company that now has designed over 300 courses in 36 states and 20 nations.
The company now in an elegant building on Ponte Vedra Boulevard with eight certified golf course architects and 18 “of the most high-tech computer stations you’ll ever see,” said Seay.
Their first efforts in North Florida together were at Palm Coast, where
they did Matanzas Woods in 1980 and Pine Lakes a year later.
The company’s first Jacksonville area course was the redesign of Hidden Hills in the mid-80’s. Coppedge’s son, Tommy, and a partner had gotten the property to make it a residential community.
“They wanted to make it into a residential community and the original course wasn’t designed for lots,” said the elder Coppedge. “Dammit, that may have been the best course in Florida.”
Seay and Palmer maintained some of the original routing and a few of its specific parts - the famed green on Palmer’s par-3 5th today was the green on Gordon’s par-4 6th - but had to do what the owners needed.
“It isn’t bad but it’s not Hidden Hills,” says Coppedge.
Shortly afterwards, the company designed the private Plantation at Ponte Vedra, now Plantation Country Club, then Coppedge’s Mill Cove in 1991 and Hampton Golf’s North Hampton in 2000.
All were “signature” courses, meaning that Palmer actively was involved in the design.
(Two other courses occasionally claim Palmer’s name but, in actuality, both were done by Seay alone: Sawgrass’ original 18 in 1973, and the third nine in 1984, and the Thousand Oaks renovation in 1988 that was renamed Oak Bridge.)
“I was out at the office this morning,” said Palmer. “It’s just amazing what they can do.
“I remember designing my first course. I labored over design on a piece of paper, then we went out and just sort of put it in the ground.
“Today, they have all sorts of computer programs at the Ponte Vedra office which can take a concept and it seems to have a mind of its own. They’ll do a golf course in no time at all.”
“We see a lot more of Arnold,” said Seay, “now that his playing schedule allows him more time. He’s aged well. He seems to get better and better.”
Seay, sadly, isn’t. A long bout with cancer has left him breathing with the help of an oxygen tank.
Coppedge’s health has slipped, too. Now 85, he lives in a Southside condo surrounded with memorabilia, much of its featuring his friend Palmer.
“I’m just worn out,” said Coppedge, a crusty sort who worked hard in business and then played hard when the party started. “I’ve been on cruise control for a long time. It catches up to you.”
He spends most of his time at home, watching television each evening with neighbor Stoonie Powell, another local golfing character who ran the party circuit with equal enthusiasm.
“I guess I haven’t seen Arnold in a couple of years,” said Coppedge. “We did a lot of things together, but we’re going in different directions now. He’s still active, I’m not.
“But I’ll tell you this. He’s beginning to look like me. Old.”