Be truthful. Be direct. Don’t lie. Speak their language.
The boys asked Mommy whether she was O.K. She
told them she wasn’t, that they needed to listen to her,
that what she was going to tell them would be very hard
to hear, but that she would answer their questions when
she was finished.
Throats tightened. The air thickened.
Then she told them that Daddy—their hero; the one
who showed them how to swing a golf club; who they
ran to hug as soon as he walked through the door every
evening—was gone, and he was never coming back.
Banks wore a blank stare as he tried to process his
mother’s words. Over the coming days he would ask
again and again when his dad might be home, or he’d
sit with his iPad, a picture of Gene on the screen, staring
in silence for long stretches. “I just want to look at his
face,” he would say.
Beau, on the bed, burst into tears. Immediately he
started asking about the bad guy. Who is he? Will they
catch him? He cuddled up to Ashley, who told her boys
it was the police’s job to find the killer, and that it was
everyone else’s job to remember Daddy. To think about him
often. To share happy stories. To cry whenever you need.I
N AUGUST, PINETREE hosted the Gene Siller
Red Pants Memorial tournament, which raised more
than $250,000 for a grant, created by Ashley and named
after her late husband, targeted at young golfers. The
goal, Ashley says, is to honor the joy that Gene took in
teaching junior players, including their two little boys.
Bryson DeChambeau, Rickie Fowler and Jordan Spieth
donated golf bags for an auction, and there was an
array of items up for bid autographed by the likes of
Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods.
Out on the course that day, 61-year-old Billy Jack split
the fairway on the 10th hole. As he stood over his second
shot, pin guarded by the pond and those two bunkers,
he couldn’t take his mind off what had happened on
the green ahead to his old friend, and he skulled his
approach into the front trap.
Another longtime golf buddy, 48-year-old Ryan Joyce,
on this afternoon had the honor of using Siller’s clubs.
Gene and Ryan had partnered up in dozens of tourna-
ments; they never quite won one, but Joyce always
appreciated Siller’s composure as he engineered his
way around a course. Now Joyce freezes up every time
he stands at a 10th-tee box, no matter the locale. Since
his friend’s death, he plays sparingly.
The tire tracks on the 10th green at Pinetree are gone.
Groundskeepers long ago repaired the torn-up turf
and mended the damaged bunker and f looded the area
where Siller fell with water and soap tablets, again andSPORTS
ILLUSTRATED
SI.COM
APRIL 2022
77PINETREEMOURNING
DRAW
Ashley laid
Beau’s sketch on
the 10th green
( below, with
her father) and
addressed the
crowd at the Red
Pants Memorial.