Herbert V. Kohler Jr. always maintained that he wasn’t a visionary when it came to golf. Instead, he was a pragmatic businessman who saw golf as a necessary piece of the Kohler Co.’s hospitality division.
Either way, the multi-course empire he built in Sheboygan County transformed golf in Wisconsin. Without Blackwolf Run and Whistling Straits, there are no PGA Championships in our state, no U.S. Women’s Opens, no Ryder Cup. Quite possibly, there is no Erin Hills, no Sand Valley, no reason for golfers the world over to visit America’s Dairyland.
Herb Kohler poses with Gary D'Amato at the Golf Writers Association of America annual dinner in Augusta, Ga., in 2019.
It’s with profound sadness, then, that I write the following words: the single most important figure in Wisconsin golf history has died. Kohler, who was 83, passed away Saturday, according to a release from Kohler Co. The cause of death was not announced.
Kohler was many things to many people — wealthy business tycoon, iron-fisted CEO, strong-willed conservative, perfectionist, avid outdoorsman, passionate (if slightly below average) golfer — but to me, he was just Herb, a friend of the game.
Staffers warned me early on to address him as “Mr. Kohler,” and indeed he was wary and guarded the first few times I interviewed him, when he was building his golf courses and I was a reporter for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. Somewhere along the way, though, he came to trust me. In recent years, my interviews with him were really conversations, and he told me things in confidence that I could not print.
The first time I met Herb, I was playing in a media event at newly opened Blackwolf Run. I was on the tee of the River Course’s par-3 fourth hole when he drove up in a golf cart, asked to borrow my club and a ball and proceeded to dribble a shot into the water.
What happened next surprised me and likely horrified the yes-sir staff members who constantly hovered around him. He clambered onto the rocks and, dressed in an expensive three-piece suit and teetering unsteadily, tried to fish the ball out of the pond. A billionaire, determined to retrieve a $2 golf ball.
That was Herb Kohler, unconventional in so many ways.
Over the next 30 years, I developed a relationship with him that I would describe as a friendship. I ran into him at the PGA Merchandise Show, at the Golf Writers Association of America annual dinner in Augusta, Ga., and at media events for the golf championships he brought to his courses, and he would always greet me with a hearty laugh and a handshake that sometimes lasted 20 seconds.
Together with architect Pete Dye (left), Herb Kohler built an empire of four world-renowned golf courses at Blackwolf Run and Whistling Straits in Sheboygan County and put Wisconsin on golf's worldwide map.
On Sunday of the 2004 PGA Championship at Whistling Straits — the first men’s major championship in Wisconsin in 71 years — I visited the merchandise tent to buy a souvenir replica 18th-hole flag, only to learn they had sold out. The next week, I called Scott Silvestri, an acquaintance in the marketing department at Kohler Co., and told him that if the company had put aside some flags I would be happy to purchase one. He said he would look into it.
A few days later, a flag arrived at my house. It wasn’t a souvenir flag, like the ones that had sold by the thousands in the merchandise tent. It was the flag that had flown on the ninth hole during the PGA, inscribed and signed by Herb. I should have returned it, but knew Kohler would be offended. That cinched my decision to keep it; I’m glad now that I did.
I was probably one of few reporters who had his cellphone number, though I rarely used it. Once, though, when I learned that a friend was looking to sell a rare piece of Ryder Cup memorabilia, I called him to gauge his interest as I was walking my dog. Instead of talking about the Ryder Cup piece, we wound up talking about dogs and nature and the importance of being outside with man’s best friend. To him, that was more precious than some Ryder Cup bauble.
Whistling Straits, site of the 2015 PGA Championship, started off as a flat piece of property along Lake Michigan. But once owner Herb Kohler found Pete Dye, the rest is history.
Months after Kohler Co. purchased the iconic Old Course Hotel, I ran into Herb at the 2005 British Open at St. Andrews. We talked about his plans for the hotel and the Duke’s Course and at the end of our chat he offered me a ride home on the company jet. I declined, of course, and he couldn’t understand why. This was different than a signed pin flag. I had to explain that as a journalist who wrote about his golf courses, it would be a conflict of interest to accept a ride. I will not deny, however, that it was a tempting offer.
Years later, I heard that he had personally taste-tested hundreds of recipes for the terrapins that would become the signature chocolate pieces at Craverie Chocolatier Cafe in The Shops at Woodlake. I brought some home for my wife, who said it was the best chocolate she’d ever tasted. I encouraged her to write a letter to Kohler because I knew he’d get a kick out of it. The next week, a box of terrapins arrived on our doorstep, with a hand-written note from Herb to my wife.
On a personal level, I was happy for him when Whistling Straits was awarded the 43rd Ryder Cup. No doubt, it was his greatest source of pride when it came to golf, and I’m glad he lived long enough to see it. The prolonged ovation he got on the first tee on the opening day of the matches is something I’ll never forget.
Not many people knew that he had an affinity for the European team. Because of his business dealings in Europe and particularly in Scotland, he knew many of the players — Rory McIlroy was one of his favorites — and when I suggested he would be pleased if the Americans won, he said, with a twinkle in his eye, “Would I?”
Well, of course, he was, but I suspect he wished the Europeans hadn’t been so humiliated in a record 19-9 U.S. rout.
Herb Kohler takes in the atmosphere during the Ryder Cup's closing singles matches at Whistling Straits.
The last time we spoke at length was on the Sunday of the Ryder Cup. I was escorted into the Kohler Co. hospitality tent. Herb and his charming wife, Natalie, were watching the matches on a big-screen TV, but he was dozing and had to be nudged awake. He signed a Ryder Cup book I had written for Kohler Co. and we chatted for 20 minutes or so.
When I saw him earlier this year at the GWAA dinner, in a wheelchair and looking frail, it was apparent that he was in failing health. I said hello and he grabbed my hand, but I couldn’t get much more out of him, and didn’t try.
I know Herbert V. Kohler Jr. wasn’t universally beloved. What man who runs a business empire is? He had his share of detractors, and Kohler Co. has been in a prolonged legal battle to get a fifth golf course built on company-owned land.
No one can argue, however, what Kohler has meant to golf in Wisconsin. He built something very special, and brought the world of golf to our doorstep. For that, I make no apologies for my admiration of him.
I believe that somewhere up there, Herb and his cantankerous old friend, Pete Dye, are back at it, giving each other the needle and building Heavenly Skies Golf Club.
If I’m lucky, someday I’ll get to play it.
