Father Quack
Alex Elias
In March, I returned to one of my favorite courses: The Park West Palm. While the Gil Hanse–designed course is certainly a significant part of it, it’s the people that continue to bring me back.
Each time I’ve visited the property, I’ve been fortunate enough to meet someone new—from a member of the staff, to a PGA of America Golf Professional at one of the nearby courses, to a minor league baseball player in town for Spring Training, to a father and son I ended up playing with again six months later in a completely different state.
This past visit, though, that person was my caddie: Bryan Quackenbush, known around the caddie yard as “Father Quack.”
Originally from Greenwich, CT, and an alum of Brunswick School (Greenwich, CT) and Wake Forest University (Winston-Salem, NC), Quackenbush would be the first to tell you he never could have predicted where he’d be today.
“When I graduated from Brunswick and during my first couple of years at Wake, I struggled with depression and was using drugs and alcohol to cope,” said Quackenbush. “That experience brought me to my knees and led me to seek healing—and that healing was Jesus.”
Ultimately, leaning on his experience as his calling, Quackenbush is now in the midst of ministry school, having served as a youth pastor, formerly attended a retreat with College Golf Fellowship, and begun work with the Fellowship of Christian Athletes (FCA), all while caddying at The Park.
“I knew I wanted to help young men, especially because I know what it feels like to be lost, to have the ages of 18–22 squandered, but I didn’t know ministry could involve working with young golfers,” said Quackenbush.
Set on a path to help young golfers wrestle with questions about life, faith, and golf, Quackenbush credits much of his approach to what he’s come to realize at The Park.
“The Park is a very special place, especially because it’s open to the public and welcoming to everyone, and caddying there for three seasons has served as a reminder that golf is the ultimate icebreaker,” said Quackenbush. “For many, it’s tough to be vulnerable, but if you can find a common bond, it’s easier to open up.”
As Quackenbush looks ahead, referencing Bernhard Langer, who once said, “I won The Masters, but that night I laid in bed and felt empty!” he reflected that, similar to caddying, as a chaplain you never know when you’ll be called on—one moment carrying someone’s bag, the next giving a read; one moment walking alongside someone’s spiritual journey, the next offering support when they open up.
