Flock Of Ages

Year After Year, The Same Disciples Snag A Ticket To Freely Roam The Masters. And What Do They Do With It? Go Straight To Church.

- Jeff Ritter

The setting is as familiar as a spring day. Towering pines. Brilliant blossoms. Rae’s Creek. The Hogan and Nelson bridges. One bunker in front, two in back. The constants at No. 12—the sublime pivot in Amen Corner—don’t end with the flora and annual procession of Tour pros. Each spring you’ll find many of the same volunteers stationed around the hole, and the same blissed-out patrons imbibing the view. For these fortunate folks, Amen Corner has become its own personal annual tradition.

“To me, it’s where the tournament is made,” says Joan Chittenden, 82, who will attend her 60th consecutive Masters this year and has watched each of the previous 59 from a chair behind the 12th hole. “I like the scoreboard and the look of the hole. I look forward to seeing my friends and people that are still left. And I like to hear the roars. You know exactly where that roar was coming from, and then you watch the scoreboard to see what happened.”

When Chittenden began attending the Masters Tournament, in 1959, the event wasn’t even a sellout. But demand soared in the early ’70s, so the tournament’s organizers created a wait-list for tickets. By 1978, the trail of names was so long that the list was closed. In 2000, it was briefly reopened and an undisclosed number of lucky fans received badges. Since then, the ticket window has remained sealed shut.