A Marshal's Reward Is Inside the Ropes

The parking lot at Holy Child in Bethesda was full. Luxury foreign cars found makeshift parking spots on the grass at the high school across the street from Congressional Country Club seven minutes after the AT&T National marshal orientation was scheduled to begin. More than 320 volunteers packed into the standing-room-only gymnasium to hear the ground rules for volunteering at AT&T National at Congressional from July 2 to 6. Among them:

· No cellphones;

· No shorts; only khaki or tan pants;

· Backs facing the golfers, not the crowd.

Nearly half of the expected 750 marshals were in attendance at the first of two orientations, listening dutifully at a meeting that resembled a cross between a town hall and summer camp introduction. A group of mostly middle-age men in slacks and golf shirts made up the crowd, even taking the time to ask questions despite the late-June heat that was hardly dissipated by the fans circulating the stale air.

The jobs are as thankless as the orientation. Many of the marshals arrive before the early-morning tee times, and many stay after the final putts fall in the late evening. The duties include maintaining gallery and noise control, enforcing roped-off areas and assisting the movement of players.

The marshals are not compensated. In fact, they pay for two additional blue golf shirts as part of their uniforms. Whether sweating through a Washington summer afternoon or stuck in a quick-arriving rain shower, they seek no sanctuary. Still, a waiting list exists for marshaling duties and the chairmen of the marshals were forced to turn applicants away.

The marshals obliged because they love golf and the opportunity to stand on the course with the golfers they watch on television, even if Tiger Woods won't be in this year's event. Some, such as Mina Choi, 54, of Springfield, feel it's a service for their country club; the marshals come from 21 clubs and two organizations in Virginia and Maryland. Others, such as Calvin Chambers, 62, from Burtonsville, sign up for the charity. Chambers wanted to help the Tiger Woods Foundation.

"There are individuals from every walk of life," said Dick Cummings, co-chairman of the marshals. "We have one-, two- and three-star generals, doctors, lawyers. . . . They drop their title and love to substitute the title of marshal."

Cummings, 74, is a retired federal employee who organizes marshaling duties at various PGA golf events in the area, including the 1997 U.S. Open. Each event left Cummings amazed by the eagerness of a group that receives no financial reward for a week of labor.

"They want to work more," Cummings said. "They say, 'If you won't use me, I'll go work for someone else.' . . . If you ask a paid employee, they immediately tell you, 'That's not in my job description.' "

A "hole captain" is assigned to each of the 18 holes. Under the captains are anywhere from 20 to 50 marshals in 10 to 22 positions, depending on the holes. The marshals at each hole rotate positions. The desired positions are the tees and the greens. No one wants the crosswalks -- "purgatory," as Ron Giles, 61, of Scaggsville called them.