Some of us had experienced decades of late springs and summers in Minnesota, although veteran status was not required to understand the blackness appearing in the western sky beyond Hazeltine National soon would be announcing its arrival with increased winds and thunder, then rain and probable lightning.
It was just after 1 p.m. on Thursday, June 13, 1991, and many more hours of play would be required for the 156 competitors to conclude the first round of the U.S. Open.
The announcement to suspend play came at 1:49 p.m. Players, caddies and officials packed up quickly and scattered, and loudspeakers told the estimated 40,000 spectators to seek shelter.
There were no large shelters to serve that purpose. Minnesotans did what we've always done when in the open and rain starts pelting:
Gathered under the nearest tree.
Yes, we've had TV meteorologists since Bud Kraehling started telling us this was risky, due to lightning's fondness for trees, but how else do you keep from getting wet?
Thus, in a very crowded area far out on the course, the nook between the 11th and 17th tees, above the 16th hole, a group of ardent golf watchers gathered under a willow tree.
And then a bolt found the willow. Thirty yards away, Richard Marshall, a photographer for the Pioneer Press, was knocked down. He got up, recovered his camera and took photos.