Over the course of my lifetime, a little golf course in Western Massachusetts has been a magnet for gatherings of family and friends.

Ellinwood Country Club in Athol, with the original nine holes designed by Donald Ross in 1929 and the subsequent nine holes added by Geoffrey Cornish in 1965, has welcomed four generations of the Deane family for more than 90 years.

My father, “Pete” Deane, played in the 1930s and later had a complimentary family membership in the 1950s for collecting members’ dues at the L.S. Starrett Company. My parents, my brother and I played our first rounds there, learning the mechanics and the etiquette.

Dad himself was a wonderful athlete, a former college All-America soccer goalie and semi-pro baseball All-Star, but he was not a good golfer. He was crafty around the greens, but he couldn’t shake his “baseball” swing off the tee and in the fairways, so his favorite club was a 1-iron. Still, as my mother often said, “He was the happiest man on the course.”

We also played with an uncle, “Bun” Coffin. It was always a treat for us “youngsters,” as he called us. He offered us little tips, but it was the good-natured kidding that made us look up to him. It was like playing with a celebrity. Small and wiry, he had a chronic smile on his face, a pipe clenched in his teeth. His eyes twinkled behind wire-rimmed glasses. Just playing with him was special.

My first set of clubs was the standard Walter Hagen 3-5-7-9 and putter, plus a 3-wood and driver. I still use the original blade putter. How could I ever replace it? I probably wouldn’t putt any better anyway. And if I ever need a replacement, my brother in Florida still has his, though he no longer uses it.

“If you ever toss yours into a pond,” he said, “I’ll send you mine.”

I also played with a favorite cousin from Vermont who would spend a week at our house during summer vacation. To the best of my recollection, we once went around the original layout six times in one day.

“Yes, we once played 54 holes,” he agreed. “Each time we played, your mom made us tuna sandwiches. She was wonderful to me, even if she may have thought I was a little bit of a hellion. Those were great times.”

Our favorite hole was the old par-four 8th, now the 11th. The drive from an elevated tee lands in an elongated, narrow bowl below. The second shot is over what in wet season is a roaring, stone-lined brook. Finally, the green is a tilted, concave “catcher’s mitt” that often demands some interesting putts of U-shaped design that often end up off the green.

My very first job was as a groundskeeper at Ellinwood during high school summer vacations. Ted Anderson was the head pro and groundskeeper. Harold Baxter, Dick Coburn and I were the workers, sweeping dew off the greens with a bamboo pole for mowing, raking traps and, one year, building the putting green that still stands beside the first tee.

Years later, toward the end of my teaching career, I would drive from Newburyport to Athol to play golf with my widowed mother, Frances Deane, then in her 80s.

“I looked forward to playing with you, to packing you a lunch,” she said of my weekly summer visits. “I’m so happy you came up as often as you did. I really, really loved playing with you. When you got good shots, I was tickled pink. It was something I could do with my child besides sitting in the living room and talking.”

She played often with friends as well.

“Your mother never gave up,” said friend Joan Newton. “She always thought she would do better. She was a pleasure to play with. We were not out for blood. We were out to enjoy ourselves. And, of course, your mother liked to talk. I can’t imagine myself playing golf at the age of 86. You would never have known what your mother was going through (non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma). If she was tired or shaky, she would just say, ‘I think I’ll sit out a couple of holes,’ but not often. She was great fun. I will miss her this summer.”

Several high school classmates and I played occasional rounds on the familiar layout over the years following graduation right up to our 55th reunion. Fifty years is a long time. Yet, in some ways, time can stand still. The personalities are the same. The same old memories are there. We could be playing 50 years earlier. We could be playing in the present. Time, in essence, disappeared.

Three Newburyport-area friends and I currently play locally on a weekly basis, but we also try to schedule an annual round at Ellinwood. We make a day of it, having lunch in the clubhouse (at times with my sister, Susan O’Connor, stopping by to join us for lunch), playing a leisurely afternoon 18 holes of golf on a wide-open course, then stopping on the way home at the nearby King Phillip in Phillipston for dinner. At the golf course and at the restaurant, I will often run into someone I know.

“I enjoy meeting your old friends and hearing the stories,” said one foursome member. “Having once worked on a golf course myself, I know what work goes into that. The course is a challenging, well-maintained layout. I enjoy the setting. I enjoy the people. I enjoy going out to dinner afterward. It’s a social day that meets the definition of a ‘play day.’”

For a number of years my two sons have also been taking me to Ellinwood on occasion for a combination Father’s Day/birthday outing, an excursion more noted for camaraderie than precision golf. The good-natured needling between my two sons adds to the fun, though the competition is real. On one outing, on a day of heavy rain, my younger son was forced to putt out of a puddle on the 18th green to secure the win and celebrate the victory over his brother.

On the most recent occasion, my older son and I were joined by his oldest son on one of his first attempts at golf. Here, too, the purpose was the shared three-generation time, not the score.

Said my grandson, “It was a great day being out with you and Dad. I’m not much of a golfer, but it was a great time in nice weather on a nice course and a time to be with you. It was awesome to be a part of family history.”

So, as a sport, a social event or a family gathering, these trips to Ellinwood Country Club are a highlight in our lives and a break from our routines.

“Concentration is necessary for golf,” my mother once said. “If you have something on your mind, playing golf sets your mind free.”

Free to be in the moment. Free to bask in the past. Free to bank memories for the future.