Editor’s note: This is an excerpt from “A short history of Harding Park” by Bo Links. The storied course hosts the World Golf Championships-American Express Championship this week.

It didn’t always look like this. It wasn’t always called by this name. And in 1837, Harding Park wasn’t a gleam in anyone’s eye when Francisco de Haro purchased Lake Merced, then known as Laguna de al Merced, from Jose Antonio Galindo for the grand total of 100 cows and $25 in gold coin of the realm.

A lot has changed since then, particularly during the last 80 years. When the City and County of San Francisco first proposed building a golf course in the southwest corner of town, the major league home run record was 59, set in 1921 by a young Yankee outfielder named Babe Ruth. Lindbergh had not crossed the Atlantic. There was no such thing as television. And yet, it was a boom time.

The 1920s were truly roaring. Bathtub gin flowed despite a constitutional ban on liquor. A new form of music, called “jazz” had caught on as did a dance sensation known as the Charleston. Bill Tilden ruled the tennis court. Jack Dempsey reigned supreme as the heavyweight champion of the world.

American golf, however, was still taking baby steps. Francis Ouimet, an unknown amateur from Boston, may have scored a tremendous victory over British professionals Harry Vardon and Ted Ray in the 1913 U.S. Open, but the Professional Golfers Association of America was only a few years old. That young prodigy from Georgia named Bobby Jones had yet to win a national championship. He was still impatient and restless, longer on potential than accomplishment. The world would have to wait a bit for his awesome talent to bloom in full. Walter Hagen and Gene Sarazen were the pros to watch.

And yet, although the game was relatively young in the United States, it nevertheless was a golden age, when men like Donald Ross, Alfred Tillinghast and Alister Mackenzie were busy constructing courses all over the country.

By the mid-1920s, San Francisco had caught the golf bug in a big way. The City first got serious about its golf in 1916, when Lincoln Park opened for play. Before anyone could say “nice shot,” however, the spectacularly scenic layout was overrun with golfers struggling for a tee time. By 1923, City leaders knew they had to develop additional golf facilities to serve a demanding clientele.

Enter the Spring Valley Water Company, a privately-owned utility that held title to much of the southwest corner of San Francisco. Among the water company’s holdings was acreage in and around Lake Merced. It was prime golfing ground, primarily due to the fertile, loamy soil and rolling terrain. Civic leaders who knew something about golf could see the opportunity. They could advance a popular sport and serve the public demand for additional golf facilities. They could also see what was happening around them.

Several private golf clubs had already planted their seeds in the neighborhood. San Francisco Golf Club had moved south from its original home in the Presidio. The Olympic Club had leased land from the water company and had built a course across the lake; the club would soon expand to two courses, the Ocean and the Lake, the latter destined to become the storied home to four U.S. Opens -- the place where Fleck defeated Hogan, Casper came back against Palmer, Simpson nipped Watson at the wire, and Janzen held off a knickered (and determined) Payne Stewart.

Lake Merced Golf Club had also acquired land in 1922 and was in the process of constructing its course further to the south, just across the county line. City leaders, including Herbert Fleishacker and William F. Humphrey, had the foresight to conceive of a municipal “green belt” around Lake Merced. Their plan was a grand one -- a huge recreational area where everyone could come for relaxation, sport and renewal. A vital part of that vision was a championship golf course, which they originally named the “Lake Merced Municipal Links.”

In 1923, Fleishacker and Humphrey, and their fellow members of the Board of Park Commissioners, made arrangements to lease 170 acres of land from Spring Valley Water Company. Construction soon followed. (In 1930, the lease arrangement was terminated when the City took over the water company and purchased the golf course land). The City agreed to retain Sam Whiting and Willie Watson, the two architects who collaborated at The Olympic Club, to design the new course and supervise its construction. Their fee? The princely sum of $300. Total construction costs were approximately $295,000.

History intervened in August of 1923 when President Warren G. Harding died while passing through San Francisco after an Alaskan vacation. Although Harding’s campaign theme was a “return to normalcy,” his administration was beset from the beginning with scandal and corruption. Over time, the toll of unending controversy had begun to wear on Harding himself. He died of a heart attack at the Palace Hotel at the age of 57.

Although his administration is best known for the “Teapot Dome” scandal -- which involved the transfer of Wyoming oil reserves in exchange for a bribe to the Secretary of the Interior -- and although Harding himself has been labeled by historians as among the worst U.S. Presidents, the man did have at least one redeeming quality: he was an avid golfer. He is, in fact, the only sitting U.S. President to have awarded the U.S. Open trophy to the winner. He handed over the cup to Jim Barnes following his victory in 1921. Harding was known to sneak out to play at every opportunity. Soon after President Harding’s death, the call came forth to dedicate the City’s new golf course in his memory. Thus was born “Harding Park,” the grand municipal golf course that sits on the shores of Lake Merced.

The official “opening day” for Harding Park was July 18, 1925, but the story is not quite that simple, for the Recreation and Park Department decided to hold a week-long tournament to test its newest creation. Over 2,200 players participated, making it one of the largest golf competitions the world had ever seen. Players from every corner of the City, and surrounding suburbs, participated. Everyone from elected officials to prominent wrestlers teed it up. Mayor “Sonny Jim” Rolph cracked the opening tee shot and the race for 14 separate trophies began in earnest. The lowest score was recorded by an Olympic Club caddie named Louis Navi who fired an even-par 73. Course designer Sam Whiting carded 80. Parks Commission President Herbert Fleishacker fired 89. The highest score was 135, turned in by a tired fellow named G.T. Dowd. There were flights for players of all ages and abilities: men and women; professionals and amateurs; private club members and public course players, including two separate divisions for caddies (under and over the age of 16).

From that point forward, Harding has been crowded with players, and loved by everyone. The golf course itself, however, did not stand still. The design evolved with the times. Harding Park holds many memories. Whether it’s the fog drifting in off the ocean, the twisted branches of a cypress tree lining one of her majestic fairways, the echo of a gallery from long ago, or simply the undulation of this rolling, beguiling golfing ground, Harding Park is a taste that lingers. It always has. It always will.