The Currahee Club in northern Georgia opened to fanfare in 2003.  Its Jim Fazio designed mountain golf course was quickly regaled by golf magazines as one of the best new courses in the nation, and the rest of the community was mentioned by many in the same breath as the established and successful Reynolds Plantation and Cliffs Communities.  Home sites were offered for well into six figures, and some homes topped out in the millions.  The golf community was especially popular with business executives in Atlanta, just over an hour away.  Currahee seemed like the ideal location for a trophy second home.

        Then, everything came crashing down in the era of credit default swaps and other dicey financial manipulations.  In mid 2009, Currahee’s owners filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy, indicating debt of a couple of hundred million dollars. Yet if you would like any updates on the bankruptcy, don’t look to the Currahee web site where its news tab leads you to an entry about a soapbox derby for the community’s kids.  The rest of the “news” is equally unhelpful in terms of updates.

         Golf club members are nervous and angry, as you might expect, and eager for better information.

        “I feel like we have been taken advantage of during the last year,” one member posted at a blog site where other members share their frustrations. “I have really questioned what my dues buy us. Other than an expensive hamburger and movie periodically, I see no events at the club.  No dinners, no bar. They collect for what? Club is usually closed.”

        Currahee isn’t the only club in America that has fallen on hard times, and its web site is not the only one that gives no hint of its financial status. But Currahee’s situation is a good reminder that not all is as it seems on the Internet – and that banks don’t exactly excel at communication.

         Of course, risk and reward go hand in hand, and Currahee has a foundation to succeed if its next owners have a good plan and deep pockets.  Prices in the community are at their lowest since opening. Those with an appetite for a little risk and a good source of accurate information might find themselves a good deal at a golf community like Currahee.

        If you have any questions about any specific golf communities, contact me and I will do my best to determine where they stand.

        I ran the following Thanksgiving message here one year ago.  For those who read it then or since, I beg your indulgence.  The example may be a year old but I hope you agree that the sentiment is timeless. To everyone, have a happy and healthy holiday.


        We had a runoff election in my small Connecticut town on Tuesday.  The two candidates had finished in a dead heat on November 2.  On Saturday, across from the high school football field, I noticed one of the two candidates waving to passersby, his wife (or maybe a campaign worker) waving at his side.  He won the runoff a few days later.

        Yesterday, as I was making a last-minute run to the supermarket for Thanksgiving provisions, I noticed the winning candidate stooping to pick up his campaign signs from a supporter’s front lawn.  He was alone, his car parked in the driveway next door.  It was a small act for sure, but a telling one.  The morning after, no doubt still basking in his victory, he was out doing the dirty work himself, no campaign helper in site.

        The scene was one tiny reminder of the huge contributions selfless people make to the health of our communities and our nation — local town councilmen and women, the brave men and women serving in the armed forces, the nurses and doctors in emergency rooms and the countless millions whose names we will never know but who labor without public recognition or year-end bonuses.

        The louder the Washington pols and media extremists shout, the more the quiet ones stand in contrast, the ones who actually get things done.  For them, we should give thanks.