For a 9/11 Victim, the PGA Tour’s Alliance With Saudi Arabian Interests Is an Unsettling Proposition

Ashley Bisman lost her father in the World Trade Center, and her family bonds over golf, but the pros on TV will no longer be welcome.

Buzz of the highly anticipated merger between PGA and LIV Golf has been brewing. Opinions vary as men’s professional golf stands on the precipice of gaining billions. However, the rivalry between the PGA Tour and LIV Golf can’t go unnoticed with a tumultuous relationship of lawsuits and finger-pointing looming in their past. The turmoil will be put to rest as the two entities come together. Unfortunately, as a victim of 9/11, the marriage of these two establishments leaves me disconcerted.

I’m a victim of 9/11, having lost my father in the World Trade Center when I was 16 years old. My dad, Jeffrey Goldflam, was the CFO for Cantor Fitzgerald. My memoir, Chasing Butterflies: The True Story of a Daughter of 9/11, follows my journey as a teen into adulthood, learning to navigate through life while coping with the loss of my father.

Just a few months shy of the 20th anniversary of the attacks in 2021, Phil Mickelson won the PGA Championship. Not long after, a family vacation to South Carolina allowed my children to run and play along the majestic greens of the Kiawah Island Ocean Course, the site of Mickelson’s victory. A fluffy brown teddy bear wearing a PGA Championship shirt now sits on my son’s bookshelf, an adoring reminder of our trip. At that time, I never could have imagined that the PGA Tour would become entangled with the politics of Sept. 11.

As a victim of 9/11, I look for solace in many places. These are the moments when I’m gratefully distracted from thoughts that consume my mind on a daily basis. Thoughts like, How did my dad die? Did he feel any pain? Lately the thoughts have included my children as I struggle with the fact that they will never know their grandfather. Or how to explain his death to them, as they often ask: “Mommy, where is your daddy?”

The golf course is a place my family goes to escape that reality. Many Saturday mornings I’m in the kitchen making breakfast for my two young children while my husband squeezes in nine holes, 18 if he’s lucky. The course is a place where I can watch my 3-year-old son wear his PGA Tour shirt and attempt to hit a hole in one. It’s a place where I watch my 5-year-old daughter walk hand in hand with her dad, as they create lifelong memories on the greens. On weekend afternoons we frequently have the TV playing, watching Rickie Fowler and Rory McIlroy working their games. Lately, professional golf has taken a turn and is no longer the delightful distraction that I once enjoyed.

As the United States is about to get into bed with LIV Golf, an entity controlled by the Saudi Crown, it leaves me feeling unsettled. Fifteen of the 19 hijackers on 9/11 were from Saudi Arabia, and Osama bin Laden was born there. bin Laden’s tactical planning of the attacks combined with Saudi officials funding al-Qaeda is enough to put pro golf lovers in a tailspin. The terrorist attacks aside, Saudi Arabia is responsible for the murder of Washington Post columnist Jamal Khashoggi.

No matter how you slice it—tax write-offs, billions in the bank, worldwide exposure, I wonder—is it all worth the message being sent to the victims of terrorism and to the world? The PGA Tour used a moral high ground when it was convenient to protect their business. Now it is willing to shed its supposed morality to protect business interests in the face of mounting lawsuits. Saudi Arabia, a country known for violating human rights in the most brutal of ways, is able to have a seat at the table in the game of golf. The writing on the wall clearly states that money comes first and has the ability to overlook the fundamental issues that broke the backbone of this country as we struggled to rebuild and gain stability after that dark Tuesday morning in September 2001.

The merger of the PGA Tour and LIV Golf is just another example of how victims of terrorism are our own unique community, and it is our job to come together to create a voice for one another. We must stand strong and united in the message that our loved ones cannot be forgotten and their lives will always be meaningful and important to us. Sunday afternoons will no longer include watching the professionals play and finish the endurance of a 72-hole tournament.

My family will always bond over the game of golf. Whether it’s taking the kids for a ride in the golf cart or traveling to a beautiful golf resort, there are still many more good times to be had. It’s important that my children learn to continue their passion without abandoning what’s ingrained in their DNA; that we are a 9/11 family.