Reg Murphy, For Furlong Baldwin, it happened in the bar of the King David Hotel in Jerusalem. Exchanging pleasantries with a businessman, Baldwin mentioned being from Baltimore.
"Baltimore, huh?" the man said. "Ever play golf at Caves Valley?"
For Reg Murphy, it happened at a tourist spot in Egypt. Visiting the Valley of the Kings, near the temples of Luxor, Murphy spotted the couple - a man and his wife wearing polo shirts with the "CV" logo.
"Where'd you get [the clothes]?" asked Murphy, president of Caves Valley Golf Club in Owings Mills.
"We played the course," the New Yorkers replied.
When Baldwin, Murphy and a cadre of Baltimore executives collaborated in 1988 to create a golf club, the goal was to benefit the locale by sculpting a course that was anything but local. Their dream-scape: a phalanx of fairways and greens that would attract a worldwide clique of VIPs as well as major tournaments.
When the U.S. Senior Open hits town this week, that alliance of power brokers will get what it wanted, in less time than anyone expected.
A young course
Caves Valley has been open only 11 years, a blip in the tradition-bound golf world. Snaring the prestigious event is a testament to the vision of its founders and a test of its mettle.
"You cannot infer greatness on a golf course; it has to be earned," says Murphy, past president of the United States Golf Association and former publisher of The Sun.
"Part of the allure of this tournament is that these seniors have played every great course in the world. In the end, [Caves] will either have given them a really stern test, or it won't."
Baldwin, chairman of Mercantile Bankshares Corp., sees the course as a catalyst for economic development, given that the back nine and the boardroom are productive business settings.
Caves Valley, he says, has made the region more habitable for large companies and put it on the map of corporate America. "Before, people thought Baltimore was just a train stop away from Washington," he says. "This changes that."
Of the club's 450 members, 60 percent are from outside Maryland, a ratio the founders had in mind.
When he plays Caves, Baldwin is less interested in tallying golf scores than the number of out-of-towners: "One day last summer, there were 32 people having lunch there, and two were from Baltimore. It's what we dreamed of."
It's a club that, though set in horse country, treats golf as the sport of kings. Caves Valley has no swimming pools, no tennis courts, no family memberships. It's a Disney World for serious duffers with business to conduct.
The clubhouse is sacrosanct (no one younger than 18 admitted). Likewise, the grounds. Unlike at most country clubs, all carts must stay on narrow paths, and golfers are encouraged to walk, if possible, over the rolling layout with its daunting 200-foot change in elevation.
Selective membership
Membership, by invitation only, is accorded to "productive members of society," club officials say. Translation: movers and shakers only.
Members include Anthony Deering, chairman of the Rouse Co.; William Jews, chairman of CareFirst; Stephen Bisciotti, founder of Aerotek and minority owner of the Baltimore Ravens; Sanford I. Weill, chairman of Citigroup; and professional golfers Tom Kite and Jay Sigel.
Inclusion does not come cheap. Individuals pay as much as $125,000 to join, plus $8,000 annual dues. Guest fees run $175 a day.
How did Caves Valley come to be?
"The original idea was Les'," says Baldwin, referring to Leslie Disharoon, then chief executive of Monumental Corp., an insurance company.
Baldwin, Disharoon and others were alarmed by the erosion of Baltimore-based corporations in the mid-1980s and saw establishing Caves Valley as an antidote.
"We've had businesses that have stayed [in the area] as a result of Caves Valley and others that have come," says Disharoon, club chairman. "It's a very, very fast-paced world, and this is one of the few places business leaders can go to 'let the air out.'"
A Baltimore perk
Dennis Donovan, director of global site selection for the Wadley-Donovan Group, corporate relocation specialists in Edison, N.J., says that, as a business magnet, Caves Valley "is probably not as important as a city's cultural offerings, but in a portfolio of quality-of-life attractions, it is a key part."
"Having a wide array of [perks] is critical if Baltimore is to be viewed in the same league as Atlanta, Charlotte and Northern Virginia - and a business-oriented golf club fits right in there."
Disharoon had the same thought nearly 20 years ago. He rounded up more than a dozen executives, including Bernard C. Treuschler, George P. McGowan, Harvey M. "Bud" Meyerhoff, Will Hackerman and Andre Brewster, to get their businesses to help stake what was to be a $38 million venture. Of course, its success depended on picking the perfect venue.
The property had to be accessible by plane and train, Disharoon says, but more than that, "a special piece of land that had some God-given strength to it."
"You couldn't take a cornfield and push it around and end up with a world-class facility."
Brewster pinpointed the rural tract, and for the next four years, he and Disharoon urged the owner to sell. Finally, the answer was yes, and neighboring property holders nodded approval.
On a hot, muggy day in 1988, Disharoon unveiled their find to the critical eye of an internationally acclaimed golf architect.
Tom Fazio liked what he saw. Deep, undulating woods of poplar, maple and oak, meandering trout streams and a dense and tangled undergrowth greeted the designer on that initial walk-through.
"We'd arrived [at the site] off of Greenspring Avenue, along a narrow strip of land cleared for a gas line," Disharoon recalls. "Mosquitoes, flies, gnats, all the Maryland residents were there.
"The trees were so thick that I literally could not see Tom from 20 feet away. He was floating around in the woods back of [what would become] the 13th hole when I heard him say, 'Les, this is fabulous, this is great.' I sure as heck couldn't see a golf course here, but he [Fazio] could."
Pond, barn remain
Construction began in July 1989; the course opened two years later. Calculated keepsakes of a working farm remain, including a pond beside the ninth tee and a weathered barn, restored by Amish craftsmen.
The picturesque waterfall and brook that frame No. 9 were architectural afterthoughts, says Disharoon, who remembers their impromptu birth:
"Tom and I were watching construction of the ninth green when a bulldozer began plowing away at a big rock. All of a sudden, Tom says, 'Wait, leave the rock there, this is perfect - we'll have a little waterfall beside the green and a stream running down to the pond."
Wildlife abounds.
"One red-tailed hawk family lives on the front nine, and another lives on the back nine. They're very territorial," Disharoon says. "There's a family of red foxes out behind the 12th green. Our superintendent [Steve Glossinger], his wife and two daughters drive out in a golf cart at dusk and throw cookies to them."
The barn and clubhouse - a 1930s-era manor house once occupied by CIA executive director A.B. "Buzzy" Krongard - wear the patina of age, giving the course a time-worn aura.
For a new course, looking old proved persuasive when the site of this year's Senior Open was selected in 1997.
Caves is the youngest course to be the host of a Senior Open since the tournament began in 1980 but not the youngest to hold a major tournament: Last year's Walker Cup was held at a 5-year-old course in Sea Island, Ga.
More improvements
To make sure Caves Valley offers golf as engaging as its vistas, the club has tweaked and tweaked again. The 17th green has nearly doubled in size, and other holes have had tees moved, bunkers added. Eight of the last nine holes differ from their initial design.
What hasn't changed is the geologic soul of the hilly landscape.
"I think God put a golf course here 25 million years ago," Fazio was heard to muse during construction. "It just took us this long to find it."