Golf is truly a goddess and must be wooed accordingly, with due meekness and humility, but at the same time with boldness and determination. — J. Douglas Edgar

When you think of golf and Atlanta, the first name that pops into your head is Bobby Jones. His grave at Oakland Cemetery is visited by thousands each year. Some even leave golf balls in homage to the legendary sportsman.

But Jones is not the only golfing great to spend time in Atlanta. Englishman J. Douglas Edgar was his close friend and mentor. While you’ve probably never heard of him, his name was in the headlines next to Jones’ quite often. Edgar won the Canadian Open in 1919 by a record 16 strokes (a winning margin that still stands for a PGA Tour event), while Jones came in second. Edgar won it again in 1920.

Unfortunately, the last time Edgar’s name would appear on the front page would be in a 1921 article about how he was discovered lying in a pool of his own blood in the middle of Atlanta’s West Peachtree Street.

J. Douglas Edgar was born in Newcastle upon Tyne in England in 1884. His family was not well off. At the age of 13, he found himself caddying to make money, although he had never played himself. One day a golfer invited him to give it a try and after swinging and missing it seven times, Edgar finally hit the ball. He was hooked on the game from that day on.

Edgar worked at various golf clubs over the next few years, his golf game mediocre at best. He had an ailing hip that limited his swing, something he tried to overcome with little success. His charm, however, won him many friends and golfing companions around the area.

Finally, with little in his pockets, he stumbled upon what came to be known as the Movement. While experimenting with various swings at High Gosforth Park Race Course, he decided to give his aching hip a break and not take full swings. Randomly, he decided to take an even more abbreviated swing, locking his upper arms against the muscles in his chest. He wanted to see how well he could hit it without turning his hip on the backswing.

When the ball clicked, Edgar knew at once that the shot was solid. Not only did the ball fly exactly as he had intended, it went farther than any shot he had hit in a year. Edgar had no idea that his discovery would become a cornerstone of golf instruction for the next century.

As Edgar shared his new technique with his fellow golfers, he began to get noticed. He started participating in high-level tournaments and rubbing elbows with pro golfers like fellow Englishman Harry Vardon. World War I curtailed Edgar’s rise briefly. When it was over, golf was certainly not uppermost in the minds of its shellshocked survivors in Europe.

Despite having a wife and two children, Edgar decided to try his luck in America, leaving for New York City in March 1919. Thanks to the growing popularity of golf and the shortage of available pros to teach, Edgar quickly got a job at the Druid Hills Golf Club outside of Atlanta.

Shortly after arriving in Atlanta, Edgar teamed with Perry Adair (known as one of the “Dixie Whiz Kids”), in a foursomes match against Bobby Jones and Willie Ogg. The match went down to the wire with Jones and Ogg winning, one up, when Jones sank a putt on the final green. It was one of the few times Jones would beat Edgar that year or the year after.

The following matches between Jones and Edgar were private and plentiful. Years later, Jones said, “We played 36 holes together every Monday at East Lake. He was a marvelous teacher.” At a critical stage in his career, Jones turned to Edgar for advice and coaching. It helped jump start his stagnating performance.

Edgar’s wife, Meg, and their children eventually joined Edgar in Atlanta but it did not go well. Mrs. Edgar did not like the hot Atlanta summers or the incessant gossip she encountered as the wife of a successful golfer. Edgar was not home much, playing in tournaments around the country or working at Druid Hills. Among his many notable Atlanta pupils was Coca-Cola magnate Asa Candler.

Edgar also enjoyed the company of women and was known to love a good drink, despite Prohibition. Left with their children in their Atlanta cottage, it wasn’t long before Meg packed her trunks and took the children home to England, never to return. She would never see Edgar again.

Some say that one of Edgar’s love interests was Alexa Stirling. Despite her high-class pedigree, Stirling preferred hunting and fishing to attending balls. A childhood chum of Bobby Jones, she met Edgar in 1920 and began taking lessons from him at Druid Hills. Already one of the top-ranked amateur female golfers in the country, her game improved even more under his guidance.

Edgar’s fortunes continued to rise until a sweltering night in August would change everything. A passing car of reporters came upon Edgar’s bleeding body, on the verge of death. Because he was found lying in the street, most people assumed he’d been hit by a car. But his injuries indicated otherwise.

The only mark found on Edgar’s body was a deep wound near his groin, not from a bullet. He bled out, unable to hang on until medical help could arrive. Some theorized that a wound of that nature meant only one thing. A vengeful husband had punished Edgar for trifling with his wife.

While never proven, some believe Edgar was having an affair with the stunning young wife of prominent Japanese florist, William Abbey. Owner of the Nikko Inn, he’d already been tried and acquitted of shooting someone previously. Perhaps Abbey had taken out his anger on his wife’s lover.

The mystery of J. Douglas Edgar’s murder remains unsolved. A blossoming career was cut short in its prime. His name has since faded into obscurity. However, his book, The Gift of Golf, remains a classic for all golfers seeking to improve their performance.

Edgar is buried in Atlanta’s Westview Cemetery. A beautiful, mysterious Japanese woman was spotted visiting his grave soon after his death.

Edgar’s tombstone states the simple truth: “James Douglas Edgar, Native of England, One of the Great Golfers of the Age”.

And he was.

Last year, I wrote about a grave I found in Sugar Hill, Ga. It turned out to be the final resting place of a victim of an infamous police murder in 1964. It was incredibly random, but this is the kind of experience I’m getting used to.

It happened again this week when I visited Arlington Memorial Park in Sandy Springs, Ga. It’s a huge cemetery with many different sections. Find a Grave lists 120 photo requests for Arlington but I was hoping to find just one.

The grave I was hunting for was in the Menorah Garden, a Jewish section. I haven’t visited many Jewish cemeteries but this one was different than ones I’m used to seeing. Colorful painted rocks left by family and friends edge many of the graves. It dispells a lot of gloom some cemeteries have. There’s even have a bowl of unpainted rocks that guests are invited to use to leave at the grave they have come to visit.

After finding the grave I was looking for, I took some photos of the graves around it to upload to Find a Grave. When I got home, I started uploading the photos. One person didn’t have a memorial page yet so I created one and uploaded the photo. The name Simon Kornblit meant nothing to me. The words “He Made a Difference” caught my attention.

When I did a Google search on his name, immediately a lengthy bio came up for him. Much of what I learned about him is from a profile in the Atlanta Jewish Times.

Simon “Si” Kornblit was born to Jewish parents in Antwerp, Belgium in 1933. His father was a diamond cutter from Poland and his mother came from Russia. Belgium was not exempt from Nazi Germany’s oppressive edicts. In 1940, Si and his family fled Antwerp for America in a freighter ship that was blown up on its way back to Europe. The Kornblits settled in New York City and Si eventually graduated from Stuyvesant High School.

A summer job Si got in the mail room at advertising agency Doyle Dane Bernbach (DDB) turned into a 35-year career. While at DDB, Kornblit attended the School of Commerce and Management at New York University. He took a break from work to serve in the U.S. Army during the Korean War. Ultimately, he became executive vice-president, general manager of the Los Angeles branch of DDB.

One of Si’s most famous ad campaigns was known as the 1970 “Angry Gorilla” ad for American Tourister luggage. It involved a real-life king chimpanzee (not a gorilla) named Oofie trying to destroy one of their suitcases. It proved to be extremely popular and American Tourister sales jumped. The story behind the filming of that first ad is pretty funny.

Si’s wife, Bobbi, said that although her husband was gentle in nature, he was “an original ‘Madman from Madison Avenue.’”

Si and Bobbi moved to Los Angeles to be closer to his movie-making clients, 20th Century Fox and Universal Pictures. He helped oversee the advertising campaign for Fox’s Star Wars. Later, he left DDB and joined Universal. From 1987-1993, Si marketed over 100 films. They include Jurassic Park, Field of Dreams, Fried Green Tomatoes, and Back to the Future. He was also named a voting member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for the Academy Awards for his work.

In 1994, after the Northridge earthquake in California, Si retired and he and Bobbi moved to Atlanta. He helped establish a film institute for continuing education at Kennesaw State University and served as its director from 2001-2003. He lectured on movie marketing to students at the Goizueta School of Business at Emory University, Georgia State, and other colleges. He never stopped sharing his wisdom with those just entering the industry.

Si also served on the Board of Governors for the Atlanta Chapter of the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences as well as the Georgia Film, Video & Music Advisory Commission; co-chaired the Photo Forum at the Atlanta High Museum of Art; and was a member of the executive committee of the Atlanta Jewish Film Festival. In Atlanta, he also continued his three-decade involvement with the March of Dimes. On top of that, he was named a torch bearer for the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games.

You would think after an incredible career like that, Si would have been happy to rest on his laurels but he didn’t. At age 70, he decided to pursue a long-held dream. Become an actor! And he did just that. After just six weeks of classes, Si secured a talent agent. He landed roles in local community theater productions, independent films and television pilots.

“He had warmth and was real,” said Steve Coulter, an actor, writer and director, who coached him. “Simon was good,” he added. “People asked to work with him.”

Actor Doug Mason was in Days of Vengeance with Si. He said,”We had no idea of the accomplished life that Simon had…until we got to know him visiting at his home for a rehearsal. There we saw a glimpse of how much of a big wig he really was.”

“When you read his bio, which is amazing, I still can’t believe we had the honor to have him in our little no-budget movie. But it was Simon who led us to believe that the honor was all his.”

At the bottom of Si’s gravestone are the words “He Made A Difference”. That’s what really drew me to take a picture of his grave in the first place. Because that’s what I hope to do with my life. That’s what I want people to say about me when I’m gone.

Most of us will never be world-famous film executives. But we can make a difference in the world around us, even in small, daily gestures. As 2014 gets off the ground, I hope we can all work toward that goal. It’s a New year’s resolution worth trying.

Thanks, Si, for the difference you made.