Fore!

Smith's death on July 12, 1977, was sudden, if not unexpected. Workers say Smith lived only a short time after being diagnosed with leukemia.

Kimpel says Smith seemed to grow weaker in the year or two before he died. He remembers Smith folding a coat over his arms and moving slowly when he made his usual midmorning inspection of the property.

"There was something wrong," Kimpel says. "Most of us didn't know what."

The company passed to Eva Smith.

The widow ran the business with help from a succession of general managers. The task was difficult. Advances in technology, such as the metal driver, made laminated wood seem quaint. Ping, a brand of clubs made by an Arizona company founded in the late 1960s, brought customization to the masses. Sales diminished, as did morale.

"After Smith died," Klein says, "it never did seem the same again."

Eva Smith turned 80 in 1985. The business demanded more attention that she could give. "Mrs. Smith got in such bad shape than she couldn't run it," Kimpel says. "She couldn't even come down to the office anymore."

Control of the company eventually came into the hands of two men, her lawyer and her accountant.

Court records indicate that Thomas Jones was Eva Smith's attorney as early as 1982. Former workers say Jones was friends with Pat McMahon, who kept the company's books.

McMahon became president of Kenneth Smith Golf Clubs in 1990. Some employees felt he was rude and arrogant. "He was very narcissistic," Mary Hanks says. "He used to run Mr. Smith down."

In 1996, Eva Smith put the Shawnee property in a trust, giving Jones power of attorney over it. She died in 1999.

Former employees believe that McMahon and Jones took advantage of Eva Smith before she died.

Bernice Klein, B.J. Klein's sister-in-law, who sewed Kenneth Smith head covers, says Eva Smith exhibited signs of dementia before her death.

Two months after Eva's death, Bernice Klein typed a letter to Johnson County District Attorney Paul Morrison. The letter, which B.J. Klein signed, complained that Eva Smith was not of sound mind when she signed her will. The Kleins later met with Morrison. Morrison spokeswoman Terri Issa says the prosecutor has "some recollection of a meeting of this nature but could not recall all details." In any case, no action was taken and no charges were filed.

Bernice Klein, whose husband, Harold, also worked for Smith, didn't hide her feelings. She says she told off McMahon at Eva Smith's funeral. "I could care less if I embarrassed Harold," she says. "It was wrong."

Kenneth Smith Golf Clubs closed in 2003.

Speaking to the Star, McMahon blamed new technology and the increased emphasis on marketing and distribution. "Rather than try to reinvent ourselves and try to compete in that world, we decided to call it quits," he said. (McMahon referred all questions to Jones, who did not return repeated phone calls from the Pitch.)

Kenneth Smith was gone, and his company was, too. But in time, Smith would come to mean a great deal to some people who had no association with golf.

Not even a Monday night Chiefs game at Arrowhead Stadium stopped a crowd from showing up at Shawnee City Hall.

It was November 22, 2004. Shawnee's City Council was considering rezoning 60 acres along 71st Street, between Quivira and Pflumm roads. The change would allow a developer, Darol Rodrock, to divide the property into smaller lots and build 86 half-million-dollar homes in a development to be called Fairway Park.

Cities rezone property all the time. But this proposal called for the destruction of a piece of Shawnee history.

Discussion of the matter began with a brief description of the land and how it had been used by Kenneth Smith. The city's planning director, Paul Chaffee, said the new development would mean the construction of homes significantly more expensive than those in some of the surrounding neighborhoods.

Council members asked questions about traffic and retention basins. They seemed enthusiastic. Then they reviewed a letter from Jones, trustee of the Eva Smith estate.

The letter encouraged city leaders to look favorably upon Rodrock's development application. Jones wrote of his "high regard" for Rodrock and his staff.

The letter described the estate's passing to the Kenneth L. and Eva S. Smith Foundation. The foundation, Jones wrote, had donated hundreds of thousands of dollars to worthy charities. Jones said he was "legally obligated" to sell the property and add the proceeds to the foundation.

Jones emphasized the importance of legacy.

He said his agreement with Rodrock called for the development to recognize Smith with "a memorial of sorts."

The plan looked like a winner. But if Rodrock and city officials thought rezoning the property was going to be easy, they were wrong.

In the mid-'90s, Rodrock had built a development, Fairway Hills, on a piece of ground on the western edge of Smith's land. (A 1994 court order had lifted the deed restriction.) Many Fairway Hills residents — who were relatively new arrivals themselves — were unhappy to learn about Rodrock's new plan for Fairway Park. Storm flooding was already a problem, a condition that the addition of new rooftops and streets seemed likely to exacerbate.