Shinnecock Hills: The U.S. Open Course With More Secrets Than You Think

Alright, let’s talk about Shinnecock Hills. You know the place. It’s like Augusta for the Masters, or St. Andrews for the Open. It’s the U.S. Open spot. Long Island royalty. One of the OG clubs in the States. Yeah, Oakmont’s hosted more Opens, but a lot of cats think Shinnecock? That’s the real deal. William Flynn, the guy who designed it, created a masterpiece. It’s sitting pretty between the big ocean and that bay. Pure American golf gold. They’ve had nine USGA events there, five of ’em U.S. Opens. And guess what? They’re gearing up for number six. So, before the pros descend again, let’s dig into some stuff about this famous place you might not know. Because believe me, this course has more history and more weirdness than you can shake a 3-wood at.

Three Centuries, One U.S. Open Venue

This is pretty wild. Shinnecock Hills is the only course in history to pull off hosting a U.S. Open in three different centuries. Think about that. Three. Centuries. The winners there read like a who’s who of golf, but the gap between some of them is insane. You’ve got James Foulis in 1896, then a massive 90-year gap until Raymond Floyd in 1986. Ninety years! They did have the Walker Cup in ’77, but still. After Floyd, it’s been a bit more frequent, with four Opens in just over 30 years. It’s almost like they forgot about it for a century and then remembered how damn good it is.

And the scores? It’s brutal out there. In the last four Opens held at Shinnecock, only three players have managed to finish under par. Three! Raymond Floyd and Retief Goosen took home the hardware, and Phil Mickelson, bless his heart, ended up two shots back of Goosen. Speaking of Floyd, when he won in ’86, he was 43 years, nine months, and 11 days old. Oldest U.S. Open champ ever at the time. That record held until Hale Irwin smashed it a few years later. It just shows you how tough Shinnecock is. It doesn’t care if you’re young and flashy or old and wise; it’s going to test you.

Early Days: Big Wins, Tiny Paydays

Let’s rewind to that 1896 U.S. Open. William Dunn, one of the original architects, was actually leading after the first round. But then James Foulis came out and shot a 74 in the second round, which they played on the same damn day, and took the title. His two-round score? 152. Now, here’s the kicker. Over a hundred years later, in 2018, guys like Adam Scott, Sergio Garcia, Shane Lowry, Jon Rahm, and Keegan Bradley – all big names, mind you – missed the cut. And their two-day scores would have been way higher than Foulis’s 152. Imagine that. A score from the 19th century beating guys who couldn’t even make the weekend in the 21st.

And the money? Oh, the money. Foulis didn’t exactly drive off in a Brinks truck. He got $200. Adjusted for inflation in 2026, that’s barely eight grand. Meanwhile, Brooks Koepka in 2018 banked a cool $2.16 million. The president of Shinnecock Hills back in ’96? He also got a $200 gift from the USGA. So, yeah, golf’s come a long way, and so has the prize money at Shinnecock. It’s a stark reminder of how much the game has changed, and how much the stakes have risen.

A Trailblazer in Inclusivity

Golf’s history isn’t exactly known for being progressive. A lot of old clubs were pretty damn exclusive. But Shinnecock Hills? They were different from the jump. They were the first American course to actually let women play. Seriously. Opened their doors and bam, women were in. They even built a nine-hole ladies’ course back in 1893. And get this, one of their members, Lucy Barnes Brown, won the very first U.S. Women’s Amateur in 1895. Talk about ahead of the curve.

The 1896 U.S. Open, the one Foulis won, was another moment where Shinnecock Hills really showed its colors. Before the tournament even started, you had a bunch of international players throwing a fit. They didn’t want a Black player, John Shippen Jr., or a Native American, Oscar Bunn, in the field. They threatened to boycott. But the USGA president at the time, Theodore Havemeyer, shut that nonsense down. He said the tournament would go on, even if Shippen and Bunn were the only two players. Shippen, a teenager from the local Shinnecock Native American reservation, had his entry fees paid by some members who’d seen him play. And you know what? He finished tied for fifth. That’s pretty damn impressive, especially considering the crap he had to deal with.

The Murky Origins of a Masterpiece

Now, about how Shinnecock Hills actually came to be. It’s a bit of a mess, honestly. The historical records are all over the place, and there are competing stories. You had a bunch of New York businessmen who wanted a course. They hired William Dunn and William Davis to design and build it on about 80 acres. The first course was 12 holes, hand-built, and apparently, they built it over Native American burial grounds. Charming. The big question is: who actually built that original 12-hole course? Dunn or Davis?

Dunn himself claimed in a 1934 article that he was the guy. Samuel Parrish, one of the club’s founders, backed him up later. But Parrish wrote his account like 30 years after the course was built and seemed to mix up Dunn and Davis. Then you’ve got John Kerr’s book from 1896 saying Dunn came over from England to be the pro in 1893, which was two years after the course was supposedly built. Confusing, right?

Fast forward to the 1980s, and Geoffrey Cornish and Ron Whitten, big golf course historians, credited Dunn with the original design in their book. But then, in 2004, Whitten himself wrote a piece for Golf Digest saying, “My bad.” He corrected the record, stating that William Davis actually designed the initial 12 holes in 1891, and Dunn expanded it to 18 holes when he showed up in 1895. That’s the official story the club rolls with now. It’s like a golf history soap opera.

But wait, there’s more. The course got a facelift around 1916 by Seth Raynor and C.B. Macdonald. Then, William Flynn came in and redesigned it in 1931, shaping it into the beast we know today. So, it’s got layers. Like a damn onion. Or maybe like a really old, complicated sandwich.

The Clubhouse: Oldest in the Country, and a Dark Past

Okay, so the course itself has a complicated past. But the clubhouse? That’s the oldest one in the entire country. Designed by the famous architect Stanford White. This guy also did the Washington Square Arch and the second Madison Square Garden. Yeah, that Madison Square Garden. The one where he got shot and killed by Harry Thaw. Why? Because Thaw’s wife, Evelyn Nesbit, claimed White had sexually assaulted her years earlier. It all led to what they called “The Trial of the Century,” where Thaw somehow got off, found not guilty by reason of insanity. So, the clubhouse at Shinnecock Hills isn’t just old; it’s got a history that’s straight out of a crime novel. Pretty wild, right? Next time you see a U.S. Open broadcast from Shinnecock, remember there’s more to it than just the golf. There’s a whole lot of history, some groundbreaking moments, and a few dark secrets baked right into the grounds.

If you’re ever looking to dive deeper into the history of iconic golf courses and the stories behind them, the USGA website is a goldmine of information. They’ve got the official records and historical context for all the major championships they sanction, including the U.S. Open at legendary venues like Shinnecock Hills.