We remember the Masters, more than any other tournament, for the moments: Jack in ’86. Bubba in the trees. Tiger’s coronation in 1997…or his chip in 2005…or his return to glory in 2019. Something about Augusta National Golf Club acts as a stage for sports’ greatest dramas, and once a year, we can’t look away.
Only, that stage does not sit empty the other 51 weeks of the year, and the golf we see at the Masters makes up only a fraction of all that the course has seen. In fact, the craziest round of golf in Augusta National history didn’t even happen during the famous tournament.
It happened on October 22, 1983, and it involves a president, seven hostages, and one of the first calls ever made on a cell phone. This is the wild story.
President Ronald Reagan was in Augusta, GA, for a bucket list round of golf with his Secretary of State, George Shultz, who was a member of the club. Several of the administration’s biggest golfers got to make the trip too.
Reagan’s foursome teed off a little before noon.
The President made his way past the first hole’s dogleg, the slopes of 6, and Amen Corner. At 2:15 p.m., Reagan was on the 16th hole, nicknamed “Redbud” with its three famous bunkers when, across the course, a local man named Charlie Harris barreled his blue Dodge truck through an unmanned gate at the country club, damaging the fence. Harris had just lost his job at a local paper mill, and he blamed Reagan. As a teenager, Harris had sold concessions at the club during the tournament, so he knew the grounds well. A bottle of tequila rattled on the floorboards as he screeched up to the clubhouse and got out of the truck.
Harris pointed a .38 caliber pistol—“It wasn’t to hurt anybody, it was just to get where I needed to get,” he later explained—at an Augusta employee and marched him into the pro shop, where four others were buying souvenirs, including White House staffers. “I want to see that son of a bitch on the golf course!” Harris said.
It all happened in a matter of moments, and soon, the Secret Service burst into action. Reagan was whisked off the course and into an armored car that had been pulled onto the cart path. Two agents with machine guns guarded it outside. They begged the president to let them drive away, to get as far away from this madman as possible.
But when you have a chance to golf at Augusta National, you don’t give it up easily—even if you’re the president and your life is on the line.
Instead, Reagan insisted on speaking to Harris. The aides gave him an ancient cellphone, a model that weighed almost two pounds; the world’s first commercial cellphone call had been made only nine days earlier.
In the pro shop, the phone rang. Harris answered.
“This is the president of the United States," Reagan said. "This is Ronald Reagan. I understand you want to talk to me."
But the connection was so spotty, and the call’s quality so poor, the technology so primitive, that Harris could hardly make out the words.
“If you are hearing me, won’t you tell me what you want?” Reagan said.
But Harris still couldn’t hear a thing. He ripped the phone out of the wall and looked over at one of the hostages, a Reagan aide. Trying to calm Harris down, the politico said, “We both need a stiff drink.”
Harris agreed. Vodka. He needed some vodka. He asked the aide to go and get him some, and the second the man got outside, he escaped.
Back on the golf course, the failed phone call was the last straw. The Secret Service whisked Reagan away to safety. On a TV in the pro shop, Harris was able to watch the president driving away. The standoff had lasted nearly two hours. “I never had any idea of shooting the president,” Harris said years later to Golf Digest. “If I’d wanted to kill him, I’d have driven up to him and done it. I just wanted to talk to him.”
But Harris had missed his opportunity. “With Reagan gone, I put my gun down and figured I might as well take my punishment,” Harris later said. He served five years in prison.
As for the president, the next morning, he got back in his armored car and drove back to Augusta National. Construction crews were busy rebuilding the club’s fence.
This time, the president played all 18 holes.
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