Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, March 13, 1994 TAG: 9403140219
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-6 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: By LARRY COWLEY
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
The night was clear and cold. We arrived as firefighters were taking hoses off the truck. Speeding down the mountain to the fire, several thoughts were foremost. At such a late hour, there probably was no one in the clubhouse. I thought of the Vance Miller painting of the 12th green and its fairway that hung alongside the stone fireplace at the west end of the downstairs dining area.
With the fire burning ferociously at the opposite end of the building, a firefighter, with two strokes of his ax, demolished the locked glass door separating the two ends of the clubhouse. Dense smoke had settled inside the building so that even with a flashlight, one could see only about two feet. One of the firefighters granted my urgent request to retrieve the painting after asking where it was. After taking several deep breaths and a last very deep inhalation, I entered the building. After finding the door to the dining room locked, a quick retreat to fresh air and another deep breath made a return possible. A firefighter axed the small window in the door and reached through to unlock it. As the door opened, a huge gust of hot, smoky air blasted the area. The observers said they could see a backdraft on the second floor pull the fire away from the windows only to return instantaneously with a force that blew out several of the upstairs windows. Again, I returned outside to breathe the most luscious fresh air of my life.
After a quick glimpse that confirmed no nearby flames, we made a last return to the area. To the left of the dining room door, next to the fireplace, hung the painting. At this point, I could only point quickly and leave. Following me out of the building, a firefighter held the painting in both hands. My wife later said the painting took at least 30 minutes to cool down.
The atmosphere changed when a human life entered the equation. Someone had just reported that the car of Judy Dean, the club's general manager, had been found near the maintenance shed. It would not be unlike Judy to be working on books in the upstairs office late on a Sunday evening.
Did the fire start in the kitchen? Could Judy have been taken down by smoke inhalation?
An hour passed before someone decided to inspect the car closely. Her purse contained several letters addressed to various people. Also found were a partly emptied bottle of bourbon and a new little red gasoline can. The worst suspicion was confirmed. Judy was in the fire and surely was dead. Gloom set in, especially among club members and employees, families and friends who stood bundled against the cold - waiting.
It must have been around midnight when I raised questions about the actions (or inaction) of the county sheriff and his deputies. I approached one of them and asked how someone could drink bourbon, probably take an overdose of drugs, then walk 120 yards up a hill to the clubhouse and climb into a fire. I suggested a search party of the entire area with spotlights. I felt considerable urgency, realizing someone might be dying close by. It seemed that much more attention was focused on the fire itself. I was told not to worry, because the security officers "were looking into that, and it would be taken care of."
I was even told that a police helicopter would come in around 3:30 a.m. and point some spotlights over the golf course, looking for the missing person - wow! I wonder how far they thought she might have gone!
Despite this rather uninspiring reassurance, several isolated attempts were made by club members, employees and one firefighter to look for Judy in the area where her car was found. My gut feeling was that Judy Dean was alive.
It was only after a last attempt to look around the shop area at 3:45 a.m. that Dean was found sitting on a small tractor's tire. Only then did elation replace the feeling of despair and gloom.
I wish to thank the Fire Department for keeping approximately 30 percent of the clubhouse from burning. Their extra efforts to obtain water from the North Fork of the Roanoke River are greatly appreciated.
The sheriff and his deputies should be given a little slack. After all, the weekend was busy with the shooting at the Ironto truck stop, and the fire did start late Sunday evening.
Through adversity, Blacksburg Country Club will become a stronger organization. Just the other night, there was an emergency called board meeting, which included the loyal and long-standing employees of the club as well as other interested members.
So, let's put out that fire of negativism about which we have been reading in the paper and seeing on television. What country clubs in Southwest Virginia haven't had a monetary squeeze from the middle of November to the middle of February, with cold and frozen golf courses? Our new clubhouse will be classy, very serviceable and hopefully as beautiful as the valley in which it rests. We wish to share it with all the citizens of Blacksburg, the New River Valley and all of Southwest Virginia.
Larry Cowley is a physician and a member of Blacksburg County Club.
by CNB