Nate Jensen, 85, linked golf to life

Nathan Jensen's memorial service yesterday afternoon took place at his old golf course. It makes all the sense in the world that Mr. Jensen's wife and children and sisters and brother and friends said goodbye there, near the lush greens where he won small bets with his buddies and taught his children life lessons.

"You cheat at golf, you cheat yourself," son Richard Jensen recalled hearing from his father more than once.

Mr. Jensen, known to most everyone as Nate, died Tuesday, Nov. 13, of cancer. He was 85.

In his final 18 months, his daughter Claudia Christensen said, he hadn't played golf. He was ill, and with all the love he had, and all the energy he could muster, he tended to his ailing wife, Margaret, in their Maple Valley home.

With her memory getting worse and her health at its most fragile, Margaret Jensen moved to an Auburn nursing home last month.

"As soon as he knew she'd be OK," Christensen said, her father let go.

Born near Hedgesville, Mont., Mr. Jensen moved to Washington as a child. He lived on a farm in Medina and graduated in 1932 from Seattle's Garfield High School, where he was on the golf team.

After high school, in the thick of the Depression, he and some friends took jobs whaling in Alaska. In later years he would joke to his children that Greenpeace would have a few things to say about that adventure.

He went on to business school and served in the Army in New Guinea and the Philippines during World War II.

Mr. Jensen was a food salesman and managed groceries in Bellevue for much of his career. In one store he found love, his daughter said, as he glanced up the aisle. He told a friend right then and there, as the Jensen legend goes, "That's the woman I'm going to marry." Of course, he did. It was 1942.

The couple had three children: Claudia, Richard and Bruce.

The family went camping at the ocean in the summer and visited Disneyland. Mr. Jensen taught the children how to be handy and how to do for themselves.

Remodeling the house meant doing it yourself, Richard Jensen said. His father would read Popular Mechanics or whatever was available to learn what he needed. Why pay somebody, he wondered, when you had a brain and the wherewithal to figure the problem out.

He made a point of learning, and he adored reading just about as much as golf. Said Richard Jensen, "You know on that show ('Who Wants to Be a ) Millionaire'? He's the guy you'd want to call."

Through a life that his daughter described as pretty typical — "He didn't move mountains," she said — Mr. Jensen doled out principles, comfort and advice.

On one outing with the family, Christensen remembers her father buying something at a store, driving some 15 minutes, then realizing he'd been given too much change.

He drove back and made the transaction right.

"I always do it now," Christensen said. "I taught my kids that."

"He never tried to put anything over on anyone," said Richard Jensen, remembering how an uncle, known for his gambling, once told him "he is one of the last honest men."

Richard Jensen said he had been a "screw-up" at various points in his life. As a teenager in the late 1960s and early 1970s, he gave the family fits with his generation's rebellious attitude. As an adult, "my personal life was a mess," Jensen said, and recalled that when he got divorced, his father said, " 'How can I help?' ... He never gave up on us."

And, while golfing — a sport the two boys took up — Mr. Jensen made sure to link the game with life's challenges. Yes, he enjoyed the game simply for what it was and he was good at it, shooting three or four over par when he was in his 70s.

But he'd also offer a gem or two about life between shots. One that Richard Jensen remembers followed a muffed shot: "You can't let one misstep screw you up."

Learn and move on, he urged.

At the memorial service, at Lake Wilderness Golf Course in Maple Valley, his golf hats, tees and tournament photos were on display. Someday those items and his clubs will belong to the grandchildren, along with all of his advice.

Mr. Jensen is survived by his wife, Margaret; sons Richard of Palmer, Alaska, and Bruce of Los Angeles; daughter Claudia Christensen of Seattle; brother Wes of Seattle; sisters Anna Petry and Lois Rounds of Renton, Ellie Coleman of Covington and Mary Lou Howard of Bellevue; five grandchildren and one great-grandchild.

Beth Kaiman can be reached at 206-464-2441.