Life and Achievements

Bobby Jones conquered childhood illness and his own unruly temper to become one of the world’s greatest and most well’recognized athletes, as well as a model of sportsmanship.

In 1958, Bobby Jones was invited back to St. Andrews, Scotland, to be honored as the first American since Benjamin Franklin to be made a freeman of that city.

After his first youthful gaffe on the Old Course, Jones later endeared himself to the people of St. Andrews with his masterful playing and modest demeanor. He utterly won their hearts, following his 1927 victory at the British Open, when he was presented with the trophy, the Claret Jug. “You have done so many things,” he said in his acceptance speech, “that I am embarrassed to ask for one more, but I will. I want this wonderful old club [the Royal and Ancient Golf Club] to accept custody of the cup for the coming year.”

When Bobby Jones returned to St. Andrews in May 1930 to compete in the British Amateur – the first tournament of the Grand Slam – he was given an exuberant welcome. After he sank his winning putt, “Hats filled the air,” wrote Mark Frost in The Grand Slam. “The crowd swallowed him, a full mile from the clubhouse….For a brief moment they lifted their hero up on their shoulders. …Pop [O.B. Keeler] said they ‘apparently wanted to take the new champion apart to see what made him tick.’” Fortunately a cadre of burly constables intervened and escorted Jones back to the clubhouse.

“He lives on…in legend, especially in St. Andrews, as the man who conquered himself and, by so doing, conquered golf and, by so doing, conquered a nation.”

In 1936, six years after his triumph at the British Amateur, Jones visited St. Andrews with a group of friends en route to the Berlin Olympics. He had intended to play a round on the Old Course unobserved and unheralded – but when he arrived at the first tee he was surprised to see an enormous crowd gathered there. Word had spread throughout the town; hand-lettered signs proclaiming “Bobby’s back!” were posted on closed shop doors. His gallery swelled throughout the day. After finishing with a score of 72, he shook hands, signed autographs and basked in the affection of the citizens of St. Andrews. “I would not have missed this experience for anything,” he told reporters who had gathered to mark this spontaneous celebration.

By the time of the ceremony in 1958, Jones’ illness had progressed to such a point that he walked with great difficulty, supported by leg braces and canes. He took his place alongside the ermine-and-crimson clad Provost Robert Leonard on the platform in St. Andrews University’s Younger Graduation Hall. A capacity crowd of 1700 were seated in the hall; hundreds more waited outside.

After Leonard presented him with a small silver casket containing the scroll that conferred upon him the freedom of the city, Jones rose and unsteadily made his way to the podium, using his canes. His daughter Mary Ellen watched apprehensively, fearful that her father would not be able to make it to the lectern. But he did.

Standing there, facing the people of St. Andrews, he spoke not from notes but from the heart. He spoke about his gratitude for the friendship he had always felt from the citizens of the town. “I could take out my life everything but my experiences here in St. Andrews and I would still have had a rich and full life,” he said, adding, “Now I officially have the right to feel at home in St. Andrews as much as I, in fact, have always done.”

Thunderous applause followed his remarks; then Jones and Provost Leonard got into an electric golf cart and began to roll down the aisle. A lone tenor voice began singing – and others took it up until the entire assembly joined in a spontaneous rendition of the beautiful old Scottish air: “Will Ye No’ Come Back Again?”

British golf writer Pat Ward-Thomas said, “It was a deeply moving moment with a deadly finality to it. Everyone knew that St. Andrews would never see him, or anyone like him, again. Herbert Warren Wind and I left the Hall together and some minutes passed before either of us could trust his voice.”

In the anthology The Greatest of Them All, Peter Dobereiner summed up Bobby Jones’ enduring significance to the people of St. Andrews: “He lives on…in legend, especially in St. Andrews, as the man who conquered himself and, by so doing, conquered golf and, by so doing, conquered a nation.”