Recovery Shots

Estes poses with other wounded soldiers at his clinic (right, from left) Ramon Padilla, Jeff Hensley, Bryan Wagner and Nevins.

That's precisely what the game did for Dennis Walburn, a 49-year-old retired National Guard lieutenant colonel who lost a leg just above the knee in a car-bomb explosion in Mosul, Iraq, in 2005. He was not a golfer before the injury, but after attending Estes' first clinic last year, he has become addicted to the game and was back for more as a weekly regular this spring.

"I went out there and got world-class professional coaching," says Walburn, who lives in Woodbridge, Va., and now works in the defense industry. "They're able to figure it out for you. Whether you've got one arm, one leg, no legs, they find a way so that you can hit that ball. For me, it was very challenging. I could not get the stance I wanted. Last year, they gave me 'an old man's swing' that was more wrist than the whole body. This year, they opened my stance to a 45-degree angle that allows me to put weight on the prosthetic leg. But it's also a mental thing. Golf got me out of the house. These people help you build self-confidence and show you that you can do things you never thought were possible."

For Nevins, hitting balls and learning how to play again were critical factors in his ability to recover physically and mentally during his first 18-month stay at Walter Reed. "It was so nice to be away from that hospital environment," he says. "Then I was able to start playing some of the courses. That's when I fell in love with the game. It was so peaceful, so beautiful. When you're out there, you forget the pain, the next surgery, the infection. It was just a great mental break.

"Golf has been the most therapeutic thing I could ever have done. The golf course also sets up a whole new level of personal challenges that dominate your thoughts. After the last operation, getting up and swinging a club was tough. It felt like I was standing on two pegs and trying not to lose my balance, but the [prosthesis] technology is really amazing now, and I've been able to figure out how to play."

He has figured it out to where, less than four months after the second amputation, he is a legitimate 16-handicapper who often scores in the mid-80s and regularly smacks 275-yard drives. On a recent round at a challenging 6,300-yard northern Virginia course, a front-nine 39 had him thinking he might even break 80 for the first time. Two deflating double bogeys early on the back nine ended that hope, but just like anyone else who plays the game, he still has lofty goals.

"For now, I want to break 80, and ultimately, be a scratch golfer," Nevins says, demonstrating the same positive thinking that has helped heal so many of his wounds and led to a new career with the PGA Tour. "Walter Reed is full of people who have had a hard time. Most people get over it. Every chance I get, if I see someone who seems outwardly bitter or negative about life, I'll always say something. I tell them, 'Look, buddy, you got hurt badly, and so did I. But isn't it better to just be hurt than it is to be hurt and pissed off and angry?' Focusing on the positive will get you better. Some listen. Some don't.

"But I've also seen some of those 'ah-hah' moments, especially with the ones who come out and try golf. Some of them have never played. And then they'll get it airborne, hit a good shot, and they'll have a big grin on their face for the rest of the day. Some of the guys used to think golf was a game for sissies or rich, old guys, and then they'll hit a ball 200 yards and it changes everything. It can open a whole new door."