ALL I EVER WANTED TO BE IN LIFE WAS SOMETHING IN GOLF.
MyTurn
by JIM DUCIBELLA
It Started With a Letter
Andy Giles’ longevity a rarity among club professionals
VIRGINIA WAS A GREAT place to be in 1965. Soda pop cost 15 cents, a loaf of bread not much more. For $ 1,500, you could take to the road in a brand-new Volkswagen Beetle.
On the other side of the world in a far less desirable place— Vietnam’ s A Shau Valley— sat homesick Andy Giles of the 101st Airborne Division. Pen and paper in hand, he wrote a letter to the PGA of America headquarters.
“ I said,‘ I’ d like to be a golf professional,’” he recalled.“ All I ever wanted to be in life was something in golf.”
It wasn’ t as far-fetched as it sounds. Giles had been working in the game since age 10, when his uncle, pro Tommy Whillock, handed him a club and a seat behind the counter at Eagle Haven Golf Course. His reward: free lessons.
Another mentor, Johnny Kelly at Kempsville Meadows, promised Giles a job when he came home from war. When that day came, Giles asked for a little time to himself.
“ OK, fine,” Kelly shot back.“ See you tomorrow morning.”
Nearly 50 years of“ tomorrow mornings” later, Giles still pulls into the office— now at Ocean View in Norfolk, his 16th and final stop— by 8:30 a. m. His bosses told him he could set his own hours. He still works full days, six days a week.
There aren’ t many in Virginia with a record like his. Nationally, there’ s no formal tracking of club pro longevity, but Giles is in rare company.
“ We work 60 hours a week, and I’ ve done that for 60 years,” he said.“ And you know who’ s the saint of the family?
ALL I EVER WANTED TO BE IN LIFE WAS SOMETHING IN GOLF.
– Andy Giles
My wife, Mitsy, who’ s put up with it for 51 years.”
Mitsy owned a travel agency, which allowed the family to follow son Conlin during his junior career. Today, Conlin is the pro at Red Wing Lake in Virginia Beach. Their daughter, Travis, a teacher, is the lone family member who didn’ t catch the golf bug.
According to Giles, long-time golf professionals are a different breed.“ When we were young, we used to say if you could play golf once a week, you were lucky.” These days, he said, it’ s even harder to find the time, but the love for the game never fades.
After decades in the business, he’ s learned to embrace the ebbs and flows of life around the game— the long hours, the missed rounds, the quiet joys that come with helping others improve.
“ When Conlin was young, we played a lot of golf together,” Giles reminisced, turning momentarily wistful. They traveled for American Junior Golf Association events.“ It was fantastic.”
His mood brightened as he recalled the many perks and once-in-a-lifetime experiences the game had given him. Like caddying for Jack Nicklaus at an exhibition at Ocean View when he was just 14. Or getting a call from a Hampton Roads mayor asking if he’ d be available to play 18 holes with Neil Diamond.( He was.)
Over the years, Giles has given lessons to a half-dozen Virginia Beach mayors. One of them asked if he’ d caddie for Lee Trevino at the opening of Red Wing in 1972. The gig paid $ 30.
Trevino and Giles hit it off. After the round, Trevino asked what Giles did for a living. When he learned he was an assistant pro, Trevino reached into his pocket and handed Giles a $ 10 bill.
“ Take this, kid,” Trevino told him.“ You’ re gonna need it.”
And that letter Giles sent from Vietnam? The PGA wrote back, outlining the steps to become a professional once he returned home.
It turned out to be a good deal— for both sides.
Andy Giles at the Ocean
View pro shop.
COURTESY PHOTO
40 V IRGINIA G OLFER | S e p t e m b e r / O c t o b e r 2025 vsga. org