This town’s only business is a golf course

PATTERSON HEIGHTS, Pennsylvania — On a smoldering hot summer day in the final week of June, the only concern for Lisa Signore is finding a way to get a few more yards out of her irons.

Next week, Lisa and Joe, her husband of 35 years, will host a big gathering for Independence Day weekend at their home in Patterson Heights, where they’ve resided for over three decades. There will be plenty to account for – the food, the drinks, the lodging, and travel accommodations – but right now, the couple is focused on making sure Lisa’s golf game is up to snuff for their family outing at their hometown course, the Beaver Valley Golf Club.

As Lisa lines herself up for a shot about 85 yards from the green on the course’s scenic third hole, Joe, one of the club’s most frequent players, dressed in his usual Pittsburgh Pirates attire, gives her some advice.

In Patterson Heights, there are no restaurants, hotels or shopping centers. The only business is a golf course.

She listens, smiles, and takes a whack. The shot doesn’t go exactly how Lisa would have hoped, avoiding the bunkers on both the right and left, but falling a few yards shy of the green. Some golfers would be frustrated but at this course, Lisa is unfazed. Inside the Signore’s golf cart are balls, a few tees, and some bottles of water. What’s missing is a scorecard.

“We’re just out here to relax and enjoy the day,” Joe says with a smile as he approaches the putting green.

The two take their time lining up their puts – they’re in no rush, no hurry at all. There is no pressure from groups behind them to play faster.

A few holes later, when a single player does approach them, he simply drives past to the next hole ahead while giving a friendly wave. Rather than waiting around or playing through, he just keeps it moving, with the intention to circle back later.

“We’re all friends here,” Lisa says as the man drives away. “When you come to Patterson Heights, you’re either here to golf or visit.”

A tiny community within a tiny community

If you use a GPS to get to the Beaver Valley Golf Club, it will take you close, but you’ll have to figure out the final few blocks on your own. Perhaps it’s just a flaw in satellite technology, or maybe it’s an unspoken effort coordinated to give visitors a chance to get a better glimpse of the small borough the course resides in.

When driving through Patterson Heights, one can go completely through the community before the song playing on their car radio comes to an end. With a population of just under 700, the four-by-six-block area is just a small blip on Beaver County’s radar. There are no restaurants, hotels or shopping centers.

The only business is a golf course, which has served as the area’s focal point before the town even existed. A tall white, red and green sign waits just off Darlington road to let you know that you’ve arrived.

For more than 100 years, the Patterson Heights course was part of the Beaver Valley Country Club. The course is the third oldest in western Pennsylvania, behind only Foxburg and Allegheny country clubs, and is the fourth oldest in the entire state.

“It’s been a part of this community forever, and it’s a very welcome member,” Patterson Heights Mayor Regis Luger told The Times. “It’s a great asset for us.”

William McCool, a Beaver Falls businessman and inventor, purchased the land in 1898, where it expanded from four holes, to five, to nine, to then finally 18 in 1961. The land for the back nine holes originally served as the Patterson Heights airport . Regulars who play the course today love to flex their historical knowledge by pointing out how the fairway on the 14th hole was once a runway.

In 2002, after the club had gone bankrupt, it was purchased by Rudy Vetica, an Ellwood City native who ran the Vetica Construction company. The first order of business was a short but simple name change: Beaver Valley Golf Club, showing that it was now open to the public.

Vetica passed away in November 2018. Today, his two sons, Dave, 63, and Jim, 60, own and run the course. While the two are three years apart in age, they both share an identical laid-back approach to life.

Neither is interested in having their name in the newspaper. When asked a question for this story, their answers would almost always shift towards their true pride and joy: the golf course and the people who play on it.

Regular patrons, however, will gladly shine praise on the work the two put in each day.

“These people are great to deal with,” Henry Bufalini, an 86-year-old retired steel mill worker from Aliquippa, says during an early morning round on a Wednesday. “They make it feel like it’s your home, like you, you own the course. I find myself picking up sticks in the fairway, or going out of my way to repair a divot, just because I know how hard these guys work to keep this place nice.”

“These guys do a really great job of taking care of this place,” area businessman and Patterson Township resident Frank Papa says during one of his regular Thursday rounds at the club. “Dave and Jimmy are good guys. They have a lot of pride in their work and make your business feel appreciated. That’s why so many of us keep coming back to play here ― it’s not just a nice place to play, but it’s also about supporting a pair of great owners.”

The mutual respect between the Vetica brothers and their customers is clear as day. And even if they weren’t friends with those who played at their course, their regular clients would at the very least keep them entertained.

A seasoned group with a fresh name

There are plenty of small groups or leagues that call the Beaver Valley Golf Club home, but one is more exclusive, eccentric and notable than the rest.

Every Thursday, anywhere from 12 to 20 of the same men meet up to play 18 holes filled with inside jokes, smack talk, occasional profanity and endless laughter. Their backgrounds range from rock star, to police chief, to superintendent, to youth baseball umpire.

Some of their nicknames include “Magic Mike,” “Rim,” “Nooch,” and “the summer school valedictorian.” Most of the others are referred to as “Joey,” by default. Together, they’re known today as the Renegades ― although prior to the reporting on this story, they had been known for years as something else … more on that later.

“We figured it was time for a name change, something a bit tougher or cooler,” Signore, one of the group’s members, said. “We had a big vote with many options. We each wrote our picks on some paper and threw it in a hat. Renegades was the winner.”

While their name might be in question, one thing that isn’t is their history. The group is led by Papa, also known as, “the OG,” or the founder of their league.

Papa began playing at Beaver Valley Country Club with his friends Tony Chirichetti, Ernie Pisciotti and Ken Scarlino in the 1980s.

“All four of us were businessmen who’d work all seven days of the week,” Papa recalled. “We used to work out at the YMCA every Thursday morning but decided to switch to golf instead. We became members and the rest is history.”

As time went on, Papa’s group of four expanded. Some of the first to join included iconic musician Donnie Iris, who had a string of hits in the 70s and 80s, including “The Rapper,” which he wrote and was the lead singer on while with The Jaggerz in 1970. Iris lived in the area and played the course with a few of his own friends on the same day, around the same time as Papa’s group.

“We ended up becoming pretty close,” Papa said. “It turned into us playing weekly, and then going on golf trips together.”

Year by year, the group continued to grow. Friends, business partners and neighbors would get the exclusive invitation. Before they knew it, Papa’s foursome had turned into a league ― one that’s been going strong for nearly 20 years.

Some of the group members have much lower handicaps than others, but a club that each of them has in their bag is humor. As is the case with most friend groups, small jokes take on a life of their own, which is how the league earned its first official name: “The Montalbáns.”

“We had a guy that looked like the actor Ricardo Montalbán,” Mike Rayz, a member of the group explained. “We started by just calling him Ricardo to make him laugh. The joke became so common, it led to us making it the league name.”

Although the name has been retired, it still shows the league’s mentality each time its members show up to play. They come to Patterson Heights hoping to hit straight drives and sink long putts, but more importantly, the group of 12-20 men shows up knowing they’ll have an enjoyable experience.

And they aren’t the only ones who feel that way.

A century-old ‘secret’

As golfers make the turn from the front to back nine on a crisp June morning, most have a few minutes to stop and chat about why they love playing at the Patterson Heights course.

Some have long-time connections, like Bob Rimbey of Chippewa Township, Rick “Spanky” Cardosi of Cranberry Township and Harry Pease of Beaver Falls, who all worked at the country club as a caddy in high school. Then there are others who aren’t from the area but willingly make almost an hour-long drive because of the fair prices and small crowds. Some even issue warnings, asking not to make the place seem too nice in fear of their “secret spot,” being found out.

“I can stop and have a smoke when I want,” Bufalini says. “If I see my friend, I can pull my cart over and have a quick talk with him. It’s relaxed here. That’s why I like it.”

Originally, the idea of ​​a business that’s 124 years old being a secret can seem a bit ridiculous. However, the more time one spends around the course, the more one can begin to understand what that notion is intended to portray.

The Beaver Valley Golf Club isn’t flashy. There’s no place to have a fancy cocktail after finishing your round. Heck, you can’t even buy a hotdog when making the tower. Ironically, the course’s simplicity is its biggest selling point.

In a county where so many grew up on the principles of hard work, community pride, respect, equality and healthy competition, all can be found in the golf course hidden away in the small borough of Patterson Heights.

At the town’s lone business, the only thing that determines status is your handicap. No matter if you’re a rockstar, an average Joe ― or “Joey” depending on the league you play in ― or a newcomer from out of town, everyone is welcomed like a neighbor, like a friend.

When people come to Patterson Heights, they’re often coming to golf and to visit.

Some more quick facts about Patterson Heights:

• According to the 2020 US Census, Patterson Heights is home to around 639 of Beaver County’s residents.

• Founded in 1899, the creation of Patterson Heights was started by a petition from 27 Patterson Township residents. At their first council meeting, the first order of business was enacting an ordinance against horses, cattle, sheep and swine from roaming the streets.

• Many of the men living in Patterson Heights were employed by Penn Bridge Works, which was located on Bridge Street in Beaver Falls until 1927. To make traveling to the plant easier during bad weather, an incline was constructed to help workers get to the business . Historians describe the incline as one of “the shortest and most unusual trolley car lines in the United States.”

• Community members formed the Patterson Heights Volunteer Fire Department on Nov. 4, 1903, making it the first incorporated fire department in Beaver County.

• Patterson Heights is currently home to a family of bald eagles, whose net is located above the Beaver River. While the birds cannot be viewed from Patterson Heights by order of the PA Wildlife Federation, they can often be seen flying over the Beaver and Ohio rivers. Borough officials recommend neighbors view the birds from Big Rock Park in New Brighton.