WASHOUGAL, Wash. — At Orchard Hills Golf & Country Club in Washougal, the corner table in the clubhouse might as well be reserved seating for a group of eight guys whose friendship spans nearly six decades.
"I just know them as the 'Poker Guys,' who come in once a month," said clubhouse server Emma Camp. "I just love serving them and waiting on them."
The chips the players plop into the center pile worth mere nickels, dimes and quarters.
"I'm a winner!" exclaims one player with a chuckle. "I won two dollars!"
Indeed, the stakes of this long-running game are very low. But the players are in deep.
"I'd just like to say there's hardly anything I'd rather do than play poker with this group right here," said Marvin Doering, 94.
Doering is the oldest member of the poker club, and one of the newest; he joined in the mid-90s.
The club started back in 1968.
"My math says that's 56 years," said Bob Haley, 77, one of the founding members of the game.
Haley rounded up some buddies from high school, and the monthly poker game began. Over 56 years, the group and their game haven't changed much.
"It's about bragging rights!" quipped Haley.
"It's all about testosterone, which we're short of and we're trying to build up!" chuckled Jack Connolly, 78.
It's also about helping others: Each year, a different club member picks one charity to which they donate part of the group's winnings. Haley says they've racked up just shy of $10,000 in donations over the last decade. Beyond that, expectations within the game have remained simple.
"We never talk politics, and we keep the stakes low," said Connolly.
There are also plenty of cigar breaks and surface-level chat.
"Our group has been playing slightly longer than the Oregon Beach Bill has been in effect," mused Tom Skyler, 80.
His observation met with a playful jab.
"How is that relevant?!" yells one of the guys.
"You have to have footnotes!" argues Skyler.
It might not seem so at first, but the connections the men share are sacred. Around the poker table sit retired members of the Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force and law enforcement. Their history is deep-seated and include mementos that speak volumes about their individual journeys.
There's the $2 bill that Doering — a retired Air Force Major — carries in his wallet. It's a calling card of sorts for the U-2 spy plane he flew over Cuba, during the Cold War's Cuban Missile Crisis. His mission? Photograph what the Russians were doing on the ground before they could shoot him down.
"They were sending MiGs up and shooting missiles," recalled Doering. "But they missed."
"This is a true American hero," observed Mike Cullivan, a retired Portland Police lieutenant, while pointing to Doering. "You talk about his stories of dogfighting MiGs over Cuba because, you know, they were unarmed. They just had to use their brains and know how to fly to get out of harm's way, and he did."
Doering's response to the praise is stoic.
"It's hard to believe," said Doering. "It was just a job for us."
Another memento among the group is the M14 rifle magazine that Jim Kenney, 77, wore while serving in Vietnam. It saved his life when a bullet headed for Kenney's abdomen lodged into the magazine's steel casing. Kenney joined the poker club in 1970 shortly after returning home from the war. His close friend, PFC Jim Barker, with whom he joined the Marine Corps, did not return. Kenney still wrestles with all of it.
"The first 30 years home from Vietnam, I couldn't talk about it to anybody," said Kenney. "We weren't exactly heroes, as my grandkids seem to think."
This summer, Kenney took his grandkids to Washington, D.C., where they spent time at the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial.
"I was just amazed that I was standing next to the three statues — oh God — of these young men looking at that wall," said Kenney, through tears. "We found the name of my best friend from Lincoln High School. When I returned, I took the GI Bill, I went to college, created my own life, and my friend didn't. My friend didn't."
Around the poker table, amid the jokes, cigar breaks and scant winnings, is a clear understanding that defines the club above all else: This group is a brotherhood.
"It just never leaves you," said Cullivan. "We're blessed. We really are."
Next month, the friends will gather again for more poker, knowing better than so many others that what they're playing is just a game. When the chips were really down, they lived it.
"I appreciate these guys," said Kenney. "We share the memories. We share the concern."
This story is part of our series, Pacific Storyland. From the ordinary to the extraordinary, we'll bring you the most heartwarming and inspiring stories from where you live. Know someone you'd like to see featured? Let us know! Email us at pacificstoryland@kgw.com or text your story ideas to 503-226-5088.