Mr. Mulligan is the uplifting true life story of world-famous champion armless Golfer Tommy McAuliffe (1893-1967). Through the turmoils of the Great Depression, the golden days of Vaudeville and World War II, Tommy McAuliffe, who lost both arms in a tragic street car accident at the age of nine, thrilled audiences around the world with his golf tricks and later in life touched their hearts with this inspiring story and 'No Handicaps' life philosophy.
Mr. Mulligan is the uplifting true life story of world-famous champion armless Golfer Tommy McAuliffe (1893-1967). Through the turmoils of the Great Depression, the golden days of Vaudeville and World War II, Tommy McAuliffe, who lost both arms in a tragic street car accident at the age of nine, thrilled audiences around the world with his golf tricks and later in life touched their hearts with this inspiring story and 'No Handicaps' life philosophy.
As the sun began to set on the crisp autumn day in southeastern Michigan it cast the familiar golden glow of fall. It was the early 60’s and Tommy McAuliffe teed up on the 18th hole at Plum Hollow Country Club in the suburbs of Detroit where he had played hundreds of times before. As soon as the driver hit the ball Tommy knew he was in trouble. It was another heart attack as the Cancer that was to take his life a few years later began to make itself at home in his body. They say your life flashes before you when you die…
The nightmarish sound was loud enough to crack teeth as the 20-ton electric street car, number 2013, tried to stop. Its steel wheels screeching against metal rails before it cleanly severed both arms just below the shoulder. Ever since he has always been haunted by that deafening sound… nine year old Tommy McAuliffe’s life both ended and began on that day in 1901.
The summer passed and a beautiful autumn was at hand. It was a time of Tweed knickers at the knee, Two-tone shoes, Fedora Hats and Bowties. Everyone was happy and Tommy like most boys his age was into mischief with other kids in the neighborhood. September 13, 1901, was a beautifully crisp fall day. It was the kind of day where the sky is bluer than blue, the leaves have started to turn and for the first time since early spring there’s a cool bite to the air. The McAuliffe family had only moved to the suburbs scarcely a month earlier. Although a little bit above the family budget, the house was really in a prime location right near schools, the hospital, Church and, most importantly, a 18-hole Par-4 golf course. Year’s later Tommy would share, “Little did I understand at the time that God’s well-devised plan was laying a firm foundation for me right from that early age.”
That afternoon, his Mother had gone to ‘Mike’s’ the local meat market owned by her long time Italian friends the Pirelli’s. Being the oldest of her children, Tommy was instructed to be at the market precisely at 4:30 p.m. to help carry home the groceries. It was a common occurrence and sometimes Tommy felt like he was part Pack Mule.
"I’ll be there on time,” he assured Mom as she kissed him and ‘her darlings’ goodbye.
For the next four hours, along with his brother, sisters and Aunt Marguerite, Tommy was engaged in the ritual fall backyard cleanup of fallen leaves. He was carefree and happy. From time to time, he would scamper into the house to learn the time from the family Coo-Coo clock that his Dad had brought back from Europe and the first World War. The work continued and soon in a moment of quiet was heard:
"Tommy!”
“Yes, Aunt Margaret?” He replied.
“It’s 3:30. You’d better get washed, put on a clean shirt and get started to meet your Mom” were his aunt’s instructions.
With the exuberance of youth, he sped to his room and within a few minutes he was ready. He exited through the front door, across the lawn to the gate, across the street car tracks and out into the afternoon sun. He started up the Street towards the market singing and whistling as he walked. He was happy without a care in the world and his mind was filled with expectation of the goodies his Mother was sure to bring home. She always brought something good home for her babies-every time. About halfway to the market, he thought of the golf club which he’d carelessly left lying in the front yard. Without hesitation, his steps were retraced to procure the prized golf club. Tommy carried that old discarded club with him everywhere he went at first, seeing it as a sort of cross between an ordinary golf club and a sword from the Knights of the Round Table. He had seen silent movies with sword play and liked it. Little did he know what was in store for him and what a pivotal role that little golf club would play in his life.
It had just rained and the street was thick with the run off of oil and fuel from the summer. In crossing the road near his house, Tommy tripped over some loose stones which lay between the road and the slippery rails of the street car line. Falling in what seemed like slow motion, hitting his right temple on the outer rail; a freak accident knocking him completely unconscious. People continued passing by and how long he lay there unnoticed no one will ever really know. His small frame was laying in the street with both arms out stretched above his head and across the tracks. When he started to come to his senses, he heard a ear deafening screeching of metal on metal as the huge street car, number 2013, headed straight for him! As a body reflex, his head snapped back and his arms shot forward. In an instant, the huge metal wheels of the street car passed over both arms. After a few moments, McAuliffe got up from the ground with both arms hanging limp at his sides, each hanging on by mere threads of muscle like spaghetti. He walked in shock back to the house, opening the white picket front gate with his foot and with a trail of blood flowing behind him he met his aunt, brothers and sister in the backyard.
“Oh my God!” they cried out simultaneously. Tommy came to the sudden realization that things were serious and he began to get scared.
“What’s the matter?” he replied, his deep brown eyes wide and not fully realizing what had occurred as it had all happened so quickly and Tommy had loss so much blood his mind was hazy. “Frankly, at that point I don’t even recall
feeling any body pain at all” he would share years later. In fact that he never really had any pain—not when the accident occurred, nor while in the hospital and even to this day—is something marveled at by all who are familiar with what occurred that tragic day.
His Aunt and the neighbors who came over after hearing the commotion quickly grabbed him, put him in a high back kitchen chair, and tied him up so that he would not bleed to death. Then as he began to lose consciousness again, and like some sort of emergency parade, they lifted him up on the chair. Like some sort of emergency parade, the half dozen of them literally ran the half-mile to the Sisters of Mercy hospital with Tommy raised up like he was the groom at a Jewish wedding.
“What will Mommy say?! What will Mom say? What will Mommy say?” Tommy lamented over and over.
“Never mind about your mother!” was the reply.
“But will somebody please meet her?” Tommy insisted, believing she might still be waiting.
“Someone will go and meet her; don’t worry,” they assured him.
Walking back from the store after being stood up, Tommy’s mom Mary came across the pool of blood and then the red trail back to her front gate. By the time she made it to the hospital, Tommy was in surgery. They say that you can always tell how bad something is by the faces of the Doctors and Nurses when you first come through the doors of the Emergency Room. At the hospital, the wide-eyed doctors were amazed that with all the blood he had lost, Tommy was still alive, let alone awake and joking around, he had lost a lot of blood. After five and a half hours in the Operating Room and three different Surgeons, the Doctors found it necessary to leave him armless just below the shoulder socket. After regaining consciousness, Tommy supervised the operation. He chatted and joked with the astonished Doctors and Nurses in good humor the entire time.
Think of it . . . armless. What a debilitating handicap with which to start life. Tommy thought his life was over. Maybe most importantly, those he loved and respected also thought his life was finished. The accident certainly altered the course of Tommy McAuliffe’s life. It was the turn of the century, and he was off to a rough start. But perhaps it’s best to start at the beginning…
Upstate New York’s fall color is a wonder, and as the autumn passed everyone was content for the first time in a long time. When not minding new baby Walter young Tommy McAuliffe was into significant mischief with other boys in the neighborhood. It was September 13, 1901, and a beautifully crisp Fall day.
The number 13 would figure prominently throughout McAuliffe’s life. Despite thoughts to the contrary, 13 became Tommy’s lucky number. In fact, his Golf show was initially called “13 Lucky Shots”. A great many things have happened to him relating to the number 13. He was born on Friday the 13th. The number of the streetcar that hit him was number 2013. He was married on the 13th. Tommy’s was the 13th number called in the WW II draft. He was born in the 13th largest city in America. He signed his first show business contract on the 13th. For his ‘Down-under Tour,’ he sailed for Sydney, Australia from San Francisco on the 13th, then sailed for the United States and Los Angeles on the 13th four months later. For some odd reason, the number has always been a part of his life. In Tommy’s Vaudeville act, there were 13 trick shots. During the act, Tommy chipped 13 balls into a moving bushel basket and hit 13 golf balls into a targeted netted hoop. He was nominated for State Senator on the 13th, and the story appeared on the 13th page of the local Newspaper. Superstitious? Not in the least.
It was the kind of crystal clear day where the air hints of the winter to come. The McAuliffe’s had only moved to the new neighborhood near Buffalo’s Delaware Park scarcely a month earlier. Although a little bit above the family budget, it was really in an ideal location right near the schools, Church, the hospital, and most crucially to Tommy, the local Golf Course. Little did he understand at the time, God’s well-devised plan was laying a foundation for his life.
After the accident, Tommy said to a friend, “I thought my life was over, through, finished! But perhaps most importantly, those I loved and listened to also thought my life was done. I was too young to understand the power of self-talk and was allowing others to influence my outlook.”
The hospital was considered better than average and run by the Catholic Church’s Sisters of Mercy. Like most medical facilities of its day, its institutional looks were standard: light green walls and flooring with black and white linoleum squares. Sisters in full Nun ‘habits’ took care of patients, and Priests were frequent visitors. What the facility lacked in technology, it more than made up for with compassion and homespun healing with a large dose of God-power for good measure.
Food was always a central focus in the McAuliffe family. While in the hospital every day, the clan brought Tommy many delicious treats: among other things were whole chickens, wine, candy, cookies, a variety of fruits, and more. Of course, he was not allowed to eat many of these things, but just looking at them was a pleasure for him. And even at that early age, he was adept at utilizing his charm and personality to get his desires. One day, a few bananas arrived for him, and he asked for one, but the nurse flatly refused. That evening his Mother paid a last daily visit, and Tommy was unusually quiet…
“What’s the matter, my son?“ Mother ventured as she put her loving arms around her son.
“The Sisters are real meanies! They wouldn’t even give me a banana!“ he told her with a red face and partially tear-filled eyes.
Mother and son talked for several more minutes, and then she left his bedside, saying she’d be back in a few minutes. Tommy was far too young to know what his mother was doing, and the drugs had made him feel hazy. Within minutes, Mom was back and again sitting beside him on the bed. Suddenly, she started feeding him bananas. She had snuck them from the Commissary tucked underneath her cape, and one by one, she fed them to him until he had eaten his fill. Tommy was grateful and none the worse for his dose of bananas. Of course, the nurses knew what was best for him, but Mom surely felt sorry for her little boy and wanted her boy’s heart satisfied regardless of cost, just like any good mother.
Everyone felt sorry for Tommy, and he hated it even though he was sure they meant well. Tommy’s immediate family, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and friends prayed that if it was “God’s will,” the young man be taken in death to heaven. Many thought he would be a burden on his family, with the best outlook being him selling pencils on a street corner. “Even though I was knocked out by all the drugs, I could still hear them!” he remembered. “But it was not God’s will because I’m still alive and kicking all these years later. Whenever my Mom felt bad about my arms being gone, she would always tell me, “Remember, son, God left you here for a reason.“ A little egotistical, I know, but I have come to believe it to be true. The more I think about my Mother’s admonition, the more I’m convinced of her faith and that the statement is true. As days come and go, I trust God will use me for greater service to my fellow man,” he said. “That’s the only real happiness in life anyway.”
During his convalescing days (and really all through his life), he heard people say, “Gee Mac, you sure were lucky the wheels didn’t take your head off!” And Tommy always felt lucky, “I simply decided to love life despite the heartaches, sorrows, and necessary hard knocks that were laid in my lap. Life is sweet in all its aspects, and you will be as happy as you make up your mind to be,” he explained to me. As a youth, Tommy often wondered what “luck“ had to do with life, his physical accident, or with any great achievement. It was not until he had grown to manhood and had been kicked around plenty that he was finally able to fully fathom the concept of “luck.” And frankly, looking back, he found the accident was really a blessing in disguise and would later say, “I still would not change a thing about my life!”
The recovery was long and hard; Tommy had to learn how to operate and live life successfully without any hands. No easy feat. His overall health and strength needed to improve, as well as working without hands and he had to work on balance when walking. It seems that he had reached and overcome the first high barrier in his short life. Suddenly he was different than just a few moments earlier-he was armless. “But what can I do about it?” he’d always say to himself. That his arms would never grow back again was certain. He now had sense enough to realize that, and his Doctors did too. At first, he cried to appease his childish heart as he fully realized that he could no longer play and do the youthful things of yesterday. No more playing ball or climbing trees or shooting marbles. In their place now were stretching routines and strengthening exercises ad nauseam to the point where Tommy would find he was doing the motions in his sleep. Family and friends considered him unfortunate, and some even suggested that it was a shame he had even survived. And these were his family members! Tommy tuned them out and pressed on building an armor of positivity that was unique and would eventually become indomitable. “Success is not a matter of arms or legs,” he said. “After all, the writer Milton was blind, Composer Beethoven was deaf, President FDR couldn’t walk… They all used their brains to overcome their limitations. I’ve studied their lives, and I was inspired by them to continue on the roadway to a fulfilled and productive life.”
Over the years, he came to realize and believe that success depends entirely upon one’s point-of-view, one’s mental attitude. After the crying ended, he simply got mad. ‘How dare they think I can’t compete just because I don’t have two arms anymore!’ he would think to himself. Born that day deep in his heart was a spirit that became unconquerable. Initially, his battle was a veritable fight against death itself. Despite the amputation of both arms and the significant blood loss, he had indeed survived. There were many other physical challenges, but in the end, he’d always say, ‘I cheated the Grim Reaper cause God ain’t finished with me yet!” And he kept that attitude even when Cancer came to take his life in the late 1960s. Promise and potential are fickle and fleeting. Tommy came from a hardy Irish people, but little did he know that the mental battle that lay ahead and the prejudices he would face would be more challenging to overcome than anything he could imagine.•
In the early 1900s a nine year-old boy lost his arms to a horrific streetcar accident. It would be understandable if he spent the rest of his life “settling for less.” But young Tommy McAuliffe simply refused to do so. Instead, he became a powerhouse of positivity, tough love, and sheer determination as evident in his personal philosophy of “No Handicaps!” His life is told in Mr. Mulligan – The Life of Champion Armless Golfer Tommy McAuliffe. It’s one of the most remarkable and inspiring memoirs I’ve ever read.
In golf, a “mulligan” is a “do-over.” This uplifting true story shows how Tommy McAuliffe chose a life “do over” after his accident and how he became a world-famous champion armless golfer, vaudeville act, devoted husband and father, and tireless champion for the physically challenged, among many other accomplishments.
Buoyed by a loving Irish family and deep personal faith, Tommy McAuliffe’s story is one of determination, unrelenting positivity, and laser-focused single-mindedness. Besides learning to play the most frustrating game in the world, golf, McAuliffe also performed in a highly popular vaudeville act doing golf tricks, worked for Curtis Airplane Company during WWII, and was a tireless advocate for the rights of the physically challenged.
Indeed, Tommy McAuliffe was a force to be reckoned with. His goal was to “spread the gospel that there is no handicap in life except a mental one.”
He didn’t just preach it. He lived it.
For example, when Tommy saw how far too many people viewed the physically challenged as “helpless individuals looking for a handout,” he set out to change the perspective. He declared, “They forget it was brains and their proper use which made them a success and not the fact they carried two arms and legs.” Also: “Every citizen, every employer, every new business owner should agree that there should be fair wages and opportunities for all, in spite of any real or perceived handicaps. We should make this the law of the land, and we will.”
McAuliffe’s quick humor and skill in golf, despite his affliction, helped him become a prime mover and shaker in getting various rehabilitation and other laws passed giving handicapped citizens equal protection and opportunities under the law.
And when Tommy McAuliffe set out to do something, you better get out of the way. Because as detailed in this nimble memoir, McAuliffe’s life demonstrated that nothing is impossible with the proper mindset and effort.
Told by the subject’s grandson in an upbeat, ebullient style that’s both bright and witty, this story is thoroughly engaging and highly readable. The timeline is a bit rough in places and has some redundancies. The text could benefit from a professional edit. But these are minor issues and do not detract from this amazing life story and “Mr. Mulligan’s” legacy of hope, faith, and “No handicaps!”
Finally, Tommy McAuliffe’s true story brings a whole new meaning to the word “champion.” So if you’re looking for an inspiring true story, grab a copy. It will make you want to stand up and cheer! My score: 4.5.