Decades after he first put his hands in the turf of soon-to-be Long Island golf courses, Charles K. Martin's fingerprints remain on most of those fairways and greens built during the 1960s golf boom, and they're still there on a handful of courses that arrived long before. Yet, according to a 2010 Newsday article, Martin is the "forgotten man of Long Island golf design and construction."
Martin passed away earlier this year at the age of 94, Newsday's Mark Herrmann announced last week.
In his May 29 column, Herrmann cited a 1965 profile by John M. Brennan in Golfdom magazine that claimed Martin's reach extended to 90 percent of the golf courses open in Westchester and on Long Island at the time, either as a builder, designer or restoration specialist. Still, when it comes to local course architecture, Martin's contributions, more focused on construction and remodeling than original design, are overshadowed by those of C.B. Macdonald, Seth Raynor, Devereux Emmet and Robert Trent Jones, and likely draw less recognition than the work of mid-century designers like Alfred Tull and William Mitchell, if they're even considered at all.
Perhaps there is more to it than simple oversight. "It is a great shame when a person's work is credited to someone else," Martin told Newsday in 2010.
The 1960s were an exciting time to be part of the Long Island golf scene, and Martin was at the forefront of what would be local golf's second wind. After years of contraction following World War II and the massive development of open space into post-war suburbia, the regional golf landscape was suddenly short on supply for all of the Island's new residents. In 1961 and 1962 alone, a dozen private clubs debuted on Long Island -- one of them, Tam O'Shanter in Brookville, was built by Martin and his 64-man crew in just 90 days, according to the Golfdom piece. Martin also played a key role at Indian Hills and North Hills, both part of that early '60s club boom.
On the public side, as Mitchell's work expanded from private clubs to new municipal courses, eventually earning him a reputation as Long Island golf's "public defender," Martin constructed or designed Island's End in Greenport, Middle Island Country Club, Spring Lake in Middle Island and Swan Lake in Manorville.
Born in Queens, Martin grew up in an age when the outer borough was dotted with renowned golf courses, and his first taste of course construction came while caddying at the original Fresh Meadow Country Club. On a hot day with few golfers, Martin helped out with the maintenance crew in the hopes of making a few extra bucks. That initial experience eventually blossomed to his own Commack-based construction firm. Prior to going out on his own, according to Golfdom, Martin was part of a group charged with maintaining the turf at Yankee Stadium, Ebbets Field and the Polo Grounds, as well as Winged Foot, Deepdale and Shinnecock Hills.
Golfdom lists more than a dozen courses modernized by Martin in the 1960s, including early-century mainstays like Engineers and Inwood. Some of the restoration work was performed on courses recently designed by Mitchell and Robert Trent Jones. "Course designer Dick Wilson, after building the Meadow Brook and new Deepdale courses, decided [that] Martin's touch was required," said the Golfdom profile. "So Charlie embellished those courses, shortly after doing a major renovation job at Inwood, where Bobby Jones won his first U.S. Open."
From Inwood to Island's End, from one watery corner of Long Island to the other, Martin left no swath unturned. His work reached both Forks, and he didn't skip over Shelter Island in between -- Golfdom said he was "commissioned to facelift" Gardiner's Bay Country Club there, as well.
For more on Martin, check out the archived Golfdom piece at this link. And for a similar piece on William Mitchell, see this Golf On Long Island profile.
[TOP: The iconic par-3 16th at Island's End, as seen in a 1960s postcard; MIDDLE: the 16th green, with Long Island Sound in the distance; BOTTOM: Martin's design at Spring Lake includes a double carry over the namesake hazard on the first hole of the Sandpiper nine.]
