The announcements of Al Biondi’s death last week all contained lists of the many awards and honors he earned while devoting a lifetime to golf. They make it obvious that he was highly regarded by his peers. He won awards as a player and as a teacher at every level, local and national.

His love of the game and his profession was seen in his license plate. If we saw that plate with the letters PGA in the parking lot we knew Al was at the course.

I first got to know Al while working on a story about his good friend Harvey LaMontagne, who was playing in his 50th Maine Open. I found him to be a willing source of golf information of all kinds. At that time, he was still at Augusta Ccountry Club. When he retired from that club, it was only a matter of months before he called to let me know he was taking the job as general manager at Kennebec Heights.

Within a couple of years he had rerouted the nines so players on the deck could watch those finishing No. 18.

He rebuilt greens and brushed out the woods on the newer nine, making the course more playable.

He later became head professional at Springbrook, the course he built in Leeds, and was looking forward to another season there when he died.

At the different clubs, I learned how devoted he was to teaching the game, and how some of his pupils followed him from club to club.

When I was asked to serve on the Board of Directors of the Maine Golf Hall of Fame, I saw another side of Al Biondi. Many of those elected to the Hall seldom have anything to do with the organization.

Al took his responsibility seriously. He always attended meetings as an advisor and ran tournaments to help fund the Hall.

No one could total up the number of benefit tournaments he ran over the years, but there were many and all were successful. He would spend hours on the phone convincing businesses of the importance of their names being on the tee signs at the events.

He was always there to support the game and other worthy causes. But it was in his final years that he took on what he considered one of his most important tasks. The flyers referred to the “Special Olympics Day on the Links” as a joint project of the Maine Golf Hall of Fame and the Maine Chapter of PGA, but it was Al Biondi who made it happen. He organized the clubs so that Special Olympians could go to a club near them on a Sunday afternoon and learn to drive chip and putt. They received instruction and medals, and it didn’t cost Special Olympics a dime.

Each year, dozens of Special Olympians have a great time learning the game of golf. I don’t know who will take over the responsibility in the future, but I do know that it should be known as the “Al Biondi Day On the Links.”

Al Biondi is going to be missed, but he won’t be forgotten.

Dave Irons is a freelance writer who lives in Westbrook.