Head golf professionals are not simply ordained.

Most find their way to the top only after serving extended stints as assistants. The money isn’t great, and the hours can be brutal.

But it’s hard to imagine any of those in our region paying bigger dues than Andy Hite, now in his 11th year as the head pro at Dominion Meadows Golf Course in Colville.

Hite, who grew up in Kettle Falls – where he still lives with his wife, Laurie, and the youngest of their three sons, Shelby – launched his quest to become a PGA Class A profes- sional in 1994 when he hired on as an assistant under Bob Scott at Liberty Lake Golf Course.

While Hite enjoyed the working environment there, the job did have its drawbacks – such as having to get up at 3:30 a.m. and make the 102-mile drive from Kettle Falls to Liberty Lake each day during the summer.

Those predawn commutes, he said, were killers – literally.

In fact, Hite might have done more to thin out our region’s wildlife population during his three years at Liberty Lake than some avid hunters do in a lifetime.

“I hit three deer, a bear and a parked pickup truck making that drive,” he said. “It was tough on me, and my cars.”

According to Hite, he hit the three deer and the pickup with the same vehicle – a Chevrolet Celebrity that hardly satisfied his fascination with “anything that goes fast” but got good gas mileage. The bear he hit with his Dodge Stealth, a sleek sports car better suited for speed, but one he rarely drove to and from work.

Hite repaired his Celebrity after his first encounter with a deer, but lived with the damage after hitting the second and third.

He totaled the car when he ran into the pickup, which had been stolen and abandoned on the highway near the small town of Addy.

“Whoever stole it had parked it sideways in the middle of road,” Hite said. “And I came up over the hill in the dark and T-boned it.”

For the rest of the story see Bergum.

Despite appearances to the contrary, Kit DeAndre insists his is not a head golf professional without a golf course.

“I’ve still got a golf course,” he said recently with a chuckle. “It’s just a little dirty, that’s all.”

Just a little dirty? How about “just dirt?”

That would seem to be a more fitting description of Liberty Lake Golf Course, which is in the throes of a major $4.5 million makeover that will keep the 50-year-old county owned layout out of commission until at least May 2010.

With it grassless, rolling terrain resembling a moonscape of sorts, LLGC is barely recognizable these days. And the 49-year-old DeAndre, Liberty Lake’s long-time head professional, is doing whatever he can to stay busy during what is normally his busiest time of the year.

“It seems kind of strange,” said DeAndre, who underwent hip-replacement surgery last winter in anticipation of his golf course being mothballed for nearly 21 months. “But I’m finding ways to occupy my time.”

Golf, however, is not one of them – mainly because of the extended rehabilitation period that follows most hip replacements.

DeAndre went under the knife on Jan. 16 to replace an arthritic hip that has been deteriorating since he broke a femur and cracked his pelvis in a motorcycle accident 24 years ago. Although the surgery was performed in as non-invasive a manner as possible, the pain has yet to fully subside.

“I’ve actually been swinging a club again the last few days,” DeAndre said, “and I’m not ready yet, I can tell you that.”

So DeAndre splits his clubhouse time checking phone messages, trying to line up financing for the new fleet of riding carts he plans to have on hand when his golf course reopens and coordinating with the company hired to do the interior renovation.

As part of a financial package he worked out with the county to survive almost two years’ worth of lost revenues from cart rentals and clubhouse, restaurant and driving range sales, he also spends time surveying the construction work going on just outside the clubhouse window, helping whenever possible and learning all he can about the renovation process.

“I try to be here at least five days a week to keep tabs on what’s going on,” DeAndre said. “That way, when somebody calls with questions about the progress being made on the course, I hope to have the answer rather than just saying, ‘It’s coming along.’”

For the rest of the story see Bergum.