Stormy Relations

The seven-year legal battle between the Beverly Golf & Tennis Club and the City of Beverly is over. But after all the accusations and animosity, what really happened and what does the future hold?

By Chad Konecky

He’s 45 minutes late for the appointment, but Doug Johnson apologizes and does so genuinely as he takes long, purposeful strides through the Fireside Room of the clubhouse at the Beverly Golf & Tennis Club. The guy manages eight golf courses for a living; so accepting that his schedule is perpetually overbooked doesn’t exactly require a leap of faith.

Clad in crisp blue jeans and a collared, beige plaid shirt over a white T and sporting a fluorescent-orange Johnson Golf baseball cap, the man who runs the day-to-day operations at 134 McKay Street is at ease in his garb and eminently comfortable in his own skin. He bears no resemblance to the sour, conniving, malcontent miser that his most vocal critics make him out to be.

Johnson boasts a deep tan from a recent four-week vacation to Florida. Even deeper are the creases of the crow’s feet rimming his brown eyes, in spite of which he looks considerably younger than his 54 years. The 6-foot-2 Johnson is fit. He’s not far off the 200 pounds of his playing days as a four-sport athlete at Attleboro High. The distinguished slope of his nose bends, barely perceptibly, to the right; perhaps from an errant elbow in the low post thrown long ago.

It is this eighth golf course under Johnson’s tutelage – Beverly’s 95-year-old gem – that has, mind you, knocked Johnson’s nose out of joint. He says he’s never encountered a circumstance like the saga he’s survived in Beverly during his 17 years of running golf courses as the proprietor of Johnson Turf and Golf Management, Inc. As a matter of fact, the legal battle for the contractual right to run the Beverly Golf & Tennis Club (BG&T) endured close to half of Johnson’s career as a private golf-management vendor.

Johnson Golf’s contract to run the club free and clear from the mantle of legal proceedings began on January 1 of this year. Soap-opera legal histrionics aside, the backfill to the recently concluded seven-year stretch of upheaval at the helm of the BG&T boils down to two sides of the same story.

In one camp, abutting a chasm of hard feelings, is a vocal minority of longtime, paying members – or permit-holders, as the current management refers to them – at the city-owned, municipal golf club. This constituency equates Johnson Golf’s reign as manager of the course during the last three years with the Dark Ages. They’ve painted Doug Johnson as a penny-pinching megalomaniac who thrives upon confrontation. A man who turned a cozy, welcoming, first-class golf course into a callous, antiseptic and pedestrian place tumbling into disrepair.

On the opposite pole is Johnson, who characterizes those critics as unduly entitled, caterwauling elitists who built and sustained an unethical aristocracy at a public golf course to the disadvantage of the general citizenry. The way Johnson sees it, he took over a BG&T where the inmates were running the institution.

When two sides sit so bitterly divided, it’s prudent to recognize that certain real truths across the full breadth of the conflict will forever remain concealed by varying shades of gray. Among the certainties is this: Given the opportunity, Doug Johnson won’t whiff at a chance to spout forcefully and eloquently about ensuring the public’s right on public golf courses.

“There are no members of this golf course,” says Johnson, who won the 1967 Massachusetts Junior Golf Championship at the age of 16. “We have permit-holders or pass-holders. What they’re buying is the right to pre-pay their greens fees and play the course an unlimited number of times for that prepayment. Some of the attitudes we’ve encountered from disgruntled permit-holders are the total opposite of what they should be. The sense of entitlement I’ve encountered with this golf course is more than any other I’ve been at. They don’t pay a private club fee and they don’t pay for those types of privileges.

“This is a municipal golf course,” he continues. “I believe that the City of Beverly wants this course to be more accessible to the taxpayers and golfers outside the permit-holding population and not just accessible to a group of people who want to play whenever they want by blocking out most of the tee times. If certain people are unhappy with that, they can go pay a private club fee somewhere else. It’s time these people realize that they’re not entitled to do whatever they want.”

Point-Counterpoint

Finding BG&T permit-holders who have a beef with the way Johnson runs his business is easy. Finding folks willing to go on the record about it is another matter.

Numerous current permit-holders contacted by North Shore Golf voiced multiple gripes with Johnson Golf, but many refused attribution. Donald E. Lyons, BG&T’s head pro for three seasons before his abrupt firing by Johnson in December, also declined comment during the reporting of this story. David Tormey, the course’s superintendent for 34 years before his dismissal the same week as Lyons, issued a “no comment” as well.

Johnson’s sharply contrasting chattiness allowed him to present himself in the best possible light.

“I’ve got nothing to hide,” he says. “I don’t let the criticism bother me. You know you’re right, so that’s what matters. You’d like to think people want to work with you and not against you. I honestly believe that with this new deal and working with the city the way we are now, this course and golf club are going to be the best they’ve ever been.”

Be that as it may, Johnson’s consent to an unrestricted interview required that he respond to the allegations of his staunchest opponents via a third-party. Johnson answered dozens of pointed questions in rapid-fire succession. As he did so, he sat serenely and utterly unperturbed, his right leg draped over his left and his wraparound shades perched whimsically upon the bill of his cap.

NSG: How do you fire a former Massachusetts teaching pro of the year and member of the PGA board of directors and how do you fire the course’s only superintendent since the 1960s?
Johnson: Now that we have a settlement, we’re in a position to get the people who work for us to do things in a manner that we see fit. That’s not too high a standard to seek as a business owner. The way it’s worked out, some get the way we do things, some don’t. I hired a new golf pro and a new superintendent – I’m bringing in good people. All the squeaky wheels did was complain about the golf course and its day-to-day operations when other people were filling those positions. Now, I replace those people and I’m the bad guy. Well, which is it? You can’t have it both ways.

NSG: People complain that the course has been unplayable until July two years running.
Johnson: I have a letter from the club men’s association on file that was written following our first season here in 2002. That letter said the golf course was in the best condition they’d ever seen it. We had a mild winter in 2001-02. The last two winters have been savage. To a certain extent, you’re at the mercy of Mother Nature in this business. It’s not a case of not doing the right things to keep the course playable. It’s a case of doing what you can in spite of weather conditions you can’t control.

The course came through [this past] winter very well. We’d like to take credit for that, but a lot of it has to do with Mother Nature. Even though we got a lot of snow, it seems like the soil temperature never got so low that we had a lot of freeze damage and the snow on top actually acted as insulation rather than a detriment. [We’ve gotten] off to a pretty good start.

NSG: Word is, you have understaffed key areas in the past.
Johnson: Were we short-staffed last summer? Yes, at times. We had people quit and we underwent the normal process of replacing them, which takes time. That’s not the same as us saying we’re not going to staff the place properly.

NSG: Permit-holders complain that the 19th hole was once a hot spot, but last year was often deserted and closed early.
Johnson: Our hours are ultimately set by our liquor license, but some nights we stay open later than others. It depends on the clientele there, just like any other place. Just because once upon a time permit-holders were so entitled they’d walk behind the bar to pour their own drinks doesn’t mean anything to me. We get complaints because we won’t pour a double. It’s illegal in this state to pour a double. I’m not going to break the law to be your buddy.

NSG: A permit-holder told us that he requested a hot dog in the 19th hole last year on the Fourth of July and was told there were no buns.
Johnson: I’ll say this without a doubt, I think the food has improved tremendously over the past year and I think the function and catering bookings reflect that. Our bookings are way ahead of last year. I’m not going to deny a guy couldn’t get a hot dog roll one day. When you run a food service, you run out of stuff from time to time.

NSG: Permit-holders complain that removing the two-installment option from fee payment policy is a huge inconvenience.
Johnson: It was double the work and double the administrative billable hours to keep track of paying pass fees in two parts. We did it our first year and it was a nightmare.

NSG: Some say the lack of a rain check policy here is disrespectful.
Johnson: I don’t know of many public courses, if any at all, that do have a rain check policy unless their greens fees are $50 or more. We manage a course down on the South Shore where the golf course members’ committee made no rain checks a policy without even consulting us to see if that was our policy as a vendor. That’s not uncommon. This is a public golf facility. Monitoring eligibility for rain checks just isn’t feasible.

NSG: Many longtime permit-holders are hot about your expanded guest policy, allowing three guests per member on weekends and holidays.
Johnson: It gives other people exposure to coming to the golf club. A lot of people who golfed here as guests in the past thought they couldn’t even hang out in the 19th hole. The way this club was run gave that perception. There were specified days when this course was “closed to the public’” until 2 p.m. That’s ridiculous. We’ve been up front about making this place fair for everyone.

Johnson dodged some accusations more convincingly than others, but debunking one of the most outrageous claims against him clearly illustrates a disreputable side to at least some of his detractors.

One North Shore Golf source that wished to remain anonymous claimed that BG&T was cited in the 2004 USGA Annual Report for inadequate staffing. Jim Farrell, the USGA Director of Regional Affairs for the Northeast and New England, subsequently told North Shore Golf that the USGA possesses no oversight function regarding club operations and issues no such citations.

Farrell speculated that BG&T may have hired a USGA agronomist to evaluate the golf course and generate a private report for the management company. The USGA Greens’ Section Northeast Region office in Palmer, Massachusetts confirms a visit to BG&T by an agronomist on July 14 of 2004.

“That’s exactly what I’ve dealt with since Day One,” says Johnson. “I’ve had to listen to half-truths and gossip. We wanted to bring the USGA in here. That was a process totally brought on by us. We’re one of the few management companies that pay to have the course evaluated. We had them come in September of 2001 even before we took over operations in 2002. They had never been asked here before. That 2001 report showed a lot about how insufficient aerating had been here. It showed a culture of practices that were inadequate for the proper care of the course.”

For the record, the USGA Greens’ Section office confirms a visit to BG&T on October 15 of 2001.

Johnson also points enthusiastically to the gossip of the goose affair, an incident involving Johnson’s 80-year-old father, Warren, a moving golf cart and a goose that prompted a visit by a state wildlife protection investigator. Permit-holders playing the course claimed they witnessed Warren Johnson deliberately run over a goose late last summer as the driver of a golf cart, and reported the incident.

“Some of these guys were constantly complaining about geese, so my dad rides around and tries to spook a few of them away from the fairways,” explains Johnson. “Well, the guy’s 80 years old and he happened to clip one. The goose didn’t even die. Yet these guys call up the state and claim he did it maliciously. Well, the state came out and interviewed everybody and determined there was no malice involved in the incident. It was a non-story, but you wouldn’t know that from the rumor mill.”

Peabody native and 27-year BG&T member Ken Ellis, who witnessed the incident from the porch outside the 19th hole as he ate breakfast, maintains that Warren Johnson turned the cart around and hit the goose a second time.

Either way, the episode hardened already steely feelings.

No love lost

Doug Johnson is never going to win a humanitarian award. He cares about his bottom line. He isn’t out to make friends and he’d push to the front of the line for a chance to tell Dale Carnegie to shove it. That’s not to say he doesn’t value a good golf experience or lacks the know-how to offer one.

Johnson’s resume is downright dazzling. His tutelage every summer during college was as a greens’ assistant at New York’s inimitable Westchester Country Club. Upon graduation, he served as the golf course superintendent at Framingham Country Club before moving on to Weston’s Pinebrook Country Club. In 1988, he became superintendent at Nashua’s Sky Meadow (N.H.) before launching his own course-management firm a year lager.

“The guy could grow grass on a billiard ball,” says one long-time permit-holder, who is otherwise not a big fan of Johnson.

So what really happened at Beverly Golf & Tennis? Why are some longtime permit-holders fiercely disgruntled and why have others departed in droves? Especially when an extended sit-down with Johnson can produce a reasonably favorable impression.

“Because the impression is just that,” says Steve Swedberg of Danvers, a permit-holder since 1980 and a multiple time men’s club champion. “The proof is in the pudding. Don’t get me wrong, I think Doug knows what he’s doing. It’s a question of whether he wants to put the money back into the golf course or not. He doesn’t exactly have a storied past on that account, but he seems to listen when you offer constructive criticism.

“Part of the problem is, Doug is not always a good businessman from the standpoint of getting things done in a manner that isn’t contentious. Part of the problem is the city being to blame for mishandling this process and not putting money back into the golf course. The city’s turned a gold mine into a white elephant and that’s not Doug Johnson’s fault.”

Johnson’s past includes a similar permit-holder uprising at Hyde Park’s George Wright Golf Course in 2003 in response to his stricter enforcement of policies than the preceding management company. Johnson also secured that vendor contract, in 1999, via a law suit.

Opinions vary widely, but permit-holders who wished to remain anonymous didn’t mince words. One man derided the BG&T playing conditions the last few years by insisting the city should “rename the course Beverly Sand & Gravel.” Another said playing under Johnson’s management was like playing under “Big Brother.”

To be sure, Johnson has turned the concept of no frills into a Zen-like creed. The 19th hole no longer throws a Christmas party. Rules governing no food or beverages on the course are strictly and ruthlessly enforced (violation is expulsion-worthy) and cart-renters are permitted zero latitude. Last summer, a foursome of octogenarians using a single cart were halted from shuttling each other up the steep hill at the par-3 third hole during a round.

“I was fed up with the shenanigans over there,” says Beverly’s Peter Iovanni, who joined North Reading’s Thomson Country Club this season after more than 20 years at BG&T. “Plus, there’s no camaraderie between members and staff over there. Maybe they’ll work on that now and try to inspire some, but right now, a lot of the guys who’ve left or taken their leave of absence see it as nothing more than a glorified [run-of-the-mill 9-hole course] over there.”

“He’s in a people-person business and he’s not at all user-friendly,” says Peabody native Ellis of Johnson. “When you go to your local golf course, you’re expecting to have fun, not get aggravation.”

Danvers resident Arthur Orechia was a BG&T member for 28 years before jumping ship to Wenham Country Club this year. And though he found Johnson’s management style to be about as palatable as Ipecac, Orechia, like Danvers’ Swedberg, levels blame upon the city.

“Doug Johnson comes on very strong and he’s a very bullheaded man and it’s going to be his way or no way,” says Orechia.

“But anything I asked for when I was there, he listened and he tried to help me out with. But there were certain things he couldn’t do because the city wouldn’t let him. Plus, he didn’t have a real contract. Everything was in court. And that’s because the City of Beverly mishandled things from the beginning.”

Iovanni echoes that sentiment.

“I’ve got nothing against Doug Johnson or the City of Beverly, but I think they’re both to blame,” he says. “There’s a certain lack of detail around the golf course now and it used to be one of the premier golf courses on the North Shore. It’s a lose-lose for both those parties. Until the city sees it as an asset instead of a place the city council is sick and tired of hearing complaints about, things won’t change down there.”

Peabody’s Ellis still can’t get his head around how thoroughly he believes the city ignored the standard of golfing that members had long been accustomed to.

“The city never gave us any inclination it was negotiating away all the rights and traditions we’ve enjoyed for the past four or five decades,” says Ellis. “And Johnson took full advantage of that and trampled all over those traditions.”

Johnson, naturally, sees things differently.

“They can blame the city or they can blame me, but they’re wrong,” he says. “The group that was running the show and reviewing the bids – The Beverly Golf and Tennis Commission – was to blame. They weren’t looking for the best deal for the city, they were looking for the best deal for themselves as individuals.”

Wrong place, wrong time

Some consider Johnson more a victim of circumstance as much as anything else. He wrestled control from a popular management group and did so with an intensely acrimonious, highly public litigation ongoing.

“Doug Johnson isn’t absolved of all blame here, but people are hollering at the messenger and ignoring the message,” says Peabody’s Bill Zeoli, a 20-year member before moving to Melrose’s Mount Hood this spring. “I was there when Friel came in and many of the same people who are upset now were upset then. A guy named Al Auger had been running the course for the city and he was real laissez-faire. Those people were hopping mad Friel was coming in.”

J. Friel Golf Management, of course, went on to become deeply embraced and widely applauded by club golfers, employing a management style that was inarguably more hands off and less concrete than Johnson’s. Dave Friel of FGM did not return multiple calls related to this story.

Johnson agrees that essentially being handed his job from the bench of a courtroom wasn’t the grand-opening equivalent of movie-premier spotlights lights and balloons.

“The way this went down hasn’t made things easy,” says Johnson. “But I think folks have gotten the word about who owns the club and who runs it. The contract is between myself and the city. The rules and regulations have been agreed upon.

“It’s simple,” he continues. “This place is for everyone and it’s time for everyone to work toward the betterment of this place. If that’s not appealing, go elsewhere. Out of the 300 permit-holders, like any other club, there are people that cause trouble. No more than 25 or 30. It’s the same everywhere. Most people want to enjoy themselves, have fun, play golf and relax. This other group’s goal in life is to be unhappy. What type of people direct such negativity toward a place they’ve been a part of? That’s a question for them to answer, not me.”

Whatever the answer, the phenomenon is precisely why Peabody’s Zeoli left.

“Negativity is exactly the reason I left the course,” he says. “We could talk about Johnson’s management style or the course conditions, but over the past five or six years, the negativity of the members toward management got so bad, it drove me out.

“The No. 1 reason I’m gone is the negativity that surrounds the golf club, including that of my own friends,” he continues. “The negativity amongst the members, well, I’m just not a negative guy. I want to play golf, have a drink, tell a joke. It got harder and harder to do that over there.”

One factor helping matters at the start of this season was the condition of the course. Last season, as many as five greens were considered well below normal playing standards until as late as July, causing at least five permit-holders that North Shore Golf spoke with to say they were “embarrassed” to bring guests to the club. This season, the greens appeared to be in much better shape with only the first green being closed for play when the course opened in early April. That green was opened less than two weeks later.

Johnson, who hired Chuck Crowley, formerly of Kernwood Country Club and Myopia Hunt Club, as his new superintendent, was unsure whether or not the decent playing conditions at the start of the season would translate into a better atmosphere at the club.

“I don’t really know if I can gauge the attitude this year yet,” Johnson said at press time. “From what I have seen and some of the comments I’ve heard, the people who have always been good, decent people, have always remarked positively, which is the case this year.

“My feeling is that the bulk of the permit-holders are all good people. For those few unhappy people, I don’t think it’s going to matter much what we do or how the course is. They’re going to continue to be unhappy because they don’t get their own way or get everything for free any more. I think that situation will rectify itself as the years go on.”

Are we having fun yet?

Doug Johnson is plenty articulate, but his tongue occasionally shepherds him into territory where his concept of reality tilts too close to wishful thinking.

“I’m reachable and I’m accessible for all reasonable complaints,” he declares emphatically.

Possibly, but that’s likely an overreach. Nor does the proclamation square with newly established protocol.

Beverly City Finance Director John P. Dunn has been designated city liaison to the club under the terms of the current deal. It’s worth noting that Dunn failed to return multiple phone messages inviting him to comment for this story.

What’s more, in a morose, meandering and sometimes nonsensical letter to permit-holders on December 21 of last year, BG&T Men’s Association President Alan Ayers explicitly stated, “Complaints about any situation at the club from any member, female or male, should be addressed to one of three members: Alan Ayers, Dave Mussen or Rich Charron.”

Ayers’ letter also included this confusing non-sentence: “Harrassment [sic] giving grief to existing employees only comes back as further punishment to all members.”

Johnson, who says “the golf commission should act in an advisory role, but some members of that committee were trying to get into the day-to-day operations of this place,” would not comment on the credibility of Ayers’ apparent threat other than to say, “That’s an acknowledgement that the help here has been harassed. In the future, we want to diffuse things before they happen.”

For a guy who chooses his words pretty carefully, Johnson is not off to a warm-and-fuzzy start when it comes to written communiqués to his golfers. The club’s 2005 Permit-holder Application was splattered with all-caps or underlined admonitions and reads more like a high school field trip permission slip than an invitation to pay $1,625 ($2,250 for non-residents) to play a season of golf.

The fallout? In addition to those regulars who have left the club outright, unofficial reports suggest 75 to 100 permit-holders chose to exercise their option of a one-year leave of absence this year. Johnson said that the club would “work its way through a waiting list” and added, “we will sell out.” At press time, Johnson stated the club had sold around 290 permits. That took some doing. Multiple golfers who sat on the waiting list as many as 10 years confirmed this winter that they received an invitation to become a permit-holder.

Johnson doesn’t exactly extend an olive branch to those now on leave.

“It is possible some of those leaves seeking return will be delayed,” he says. “We’re only contractually obligated to let five back per year. But as long as we’re here, I can guarantee we’ll welcome back any medical leave of absence as soon as they’re ready to come back.”

New beginnings

Permit-holders in the anti-Johnson camp haven’t done themselves many favors. Having complained so bitterly and so broadly for so long, they have played right in to Johnson’s characterization of the lot as entitled and kvetching.

Several permit-holders who wished to remain anonymous told North Shore Golf that Johnson’s no-food rules are so inflexible that diabetics could be expelled for indulging in a self-brought snack.

“That’s ridiculous,” says Johnson. “That’s no problem at all. It’s always been written in these rules that water and fruit or something small is fine. Where we run into problems is when somebody brings in a sub to the 19th hole and leaves their rubbish for us to pay to dispose of.”

Johnson also gets fiery on the subject of his personal reinvestment in the asset. His commitment to the course.

According to Johnson, he’s added a new cart storage facility and installed above-ground fuel-storage facilities, carrying a combined price tag of $25,000. Prior to the tanks’ installation, he says, Friel Golf employees would, in violation of code, transport fuel in buckets to the maintenance facility adjacent to the 13th hole. (Friel Golf Management did not return repeated calls from North Shore Golf to dispute or respond to this account.) Johnson says he’s also spent about $180,000 in turf equipment since becoming the course-management vendor.

There’s more. Johnson didn’t volunteer this information originally, but he confirms that he has, in the recent past, offered to move and raise the perennially swampy green at the first hole and do the job at cost – about $30,000. The Beverly Golf and Tennis Commission turned down the offer, according to Johnson.

Under the terms of the current contract, the city is under no obligation to reinvest funds in the golf course for maintenance, but Johnson did say the city has pledged to develop a capital plan to ensure the asset doesn’t devalue due to neglect or disrepair.

Many permit-holders complained bitterly about the course conditions during the past two summers, especially about the presence of temporary greens late into the season and an apparent recalcitrance to even move the pins on those temporary greens.

However, a North Shore Golf source possessing intimate knowledge of the course’s agronomical features and who wished to remain anonymous, insisted that the pins on temporary greens were moved regularly last year “among the few spots that were playable.”

Johnson confirms that there is a non-performance clause in the current contract that would allow the city to void the agreement in the event the course conditions don’t meet a certain standard.

Given that course conditions were at or near their best in 2002 (when Johnson Golf appeared to own firm legal standing vis-à-vis daily operations) and were at or near their worst in 2004 (when the future of course management was considerably more uncertain), the most objective assessment of how Johnson Golf maintains the course is likely best reserved for this year and beyond.

Somehow, someway, from this incendiary start, the 2005 season continues to unfold. And wax. And wane. Like some forest fire left to smolder itself out.

“I think we’re going to see a huge change in the attitude over here over the next couple of years,” says new club pro and Dracut native Tom Smith, 31, who assisted under the now-departed Lyons and who will be assisted by Salem’s Tim Lynch, a PGA apprentice.

“I was here before, during and after the animosity and I think it had a great deal to do with the change of power. People liked Friel and, in a way, people thought this Johnson guy was knocking Friel out. And people held onto that when all Johnson was doing was his part as a businessman.”

After all the slings and arrows, at least some people do see it that way.

“Not having a real contract and with people fighting him at every turn, you have a certain empathy for what his situation was,” says Danvers’ Orechia, now no longer a permit-holder. “I’d be damned if I would put any of my money back into that place under those circumstances.”

Ultimately, there’s likely to be only one prevailing wind meandering across the 159-acre facility this summer: If the 2005 golf season is to have a mood, it will be one of guarded optimism.

“We’re starting anew and I really like the way things are going this year so far,” Swedberg said earlier this season. “It looks like Doug Johnson is putting money into the golf course. There are seeds where grass needs to be grown. The fairways and rough look good. They’re putting fringes on the greens and they’ve worked on the sand traps. Like I said, the proof is in the pudding and everybody seems to have started off with a better attitude this year.

“You want things to happen properly, but leopards (Johnson) don’t change their spots too often. I’m not one to say you can’t give people second and third chances. At the end of the day, we just want a nice place to play.”