Befitting a day that annually mixes the magic of golf with the poignancy of gratitude, the presence of a woman with impeccable dignity seamlessly put a bow on what was taking place on Veterans Day.

Lynne Lazaro watched a small, but passionate group of golfers hit balls off of mats at the Leo J. Martin Golf Course in Weston, Mass. She smiled not at their swings or ball flights, but at knowing they were military veterans who had served their country with honor and now were embracing the opportunity to appreciate this game of golf with free lessons.

“My father would love this,” she said. “He truly believed that everyone deserved a chance to play this game.”

Few played the game with more distinction than the late and great Joe Lazaro, who was that rarest of individuals – a hero in life long before he became a sports icon. Heralded as a seven-time winner of the United States Blind Golf Association championship and admired locally as a member of the Massachusetts Golf Hall of Fame, Lazaro long before those phases of his life had proven his character and allegiance to his country.

It was 1944 and the very freedom that is the essence of our country – and grossly taken for granted by generations of our citizenry – was being threatened during WWII. Approximately 29,000 American lives were lost in the invasion of Normandy in June and three months later in another part of Europe, Lazaro was involved in the Liberation Campaign in southern Italy with the 109th Combat Engineer Battalion.

On Sept, 8, 1944, Lazaro stepped on a German landmine and was seriously injured. He received the Purple Heart and while he survived a long rehabilitation process, he never regained his eyesight.

“But forever he was determined not to let people know he was blind,” said Lynne.

Likely that was an impossible task; Lazaro’s blindness was well chronicled. But he never used his blindness as a crutch and the decades of success he realized as a competitor served to inspire countless other blind golfers.

That Lynne Lazaro, whose father died on Christmas Day in 2013, was at Leo J. Martin on this Veterans Day is proof that greatness is hereditary. Following a special calling in life, Lynne is on the USBGA board and currently helps coach blind golfer Bob Resnick.

In recent year, Veterans Day has been celebrated with free golf lessons and tournaments throughout the country to honor those men and women who paid great service to this country. At Leo J. Martin, it was a day to be among friends with big hearts so Lynne was there to support a group called “Golf For All,” a charitable group that is committed to making golf accessible for all.

Bob Beach and Fred Corcoran, a pair that beats four of a kind, offered a moment of silence for Jack Waldron of Dedham, Mass., whose colorful life featured duty with the 82d Airborne in 1956-58 and many years in local golf circles before he died two months ago at 86. There were tributes paid to Waldron, then buckets of golf balls were emptied as Tracy Hightower, Arthur Stratford, Resnick, and others emptied large buckets of balls.

“It’s the least we can do,” said Beach, who has never said no to a child with autism, a Special Olympian, anyone with Parkinson’s, a stroke victim, or anyone disabled. The game of golf is an incredible medicinal avenue and Beach for decades has been helping dispense it and he smiled warmly as he offered tips to the veterans who attended on this unseasonable warm Veterans Day.

“It’s good for the mind, for the body, for the soul,” said Hightower. “You’re out in nature. It’s very tranquil.”

Her military story, like that of Stratford, included global travels that would sound exciting – a stop in the Philippines, then throughout the Middle East – if not for the backdrop of war. For Hightower, who grew up in Boston and served in the Air Force from 1986 to 1991, it was the Gulf War. For Stratford, his 1968-70 stint involved the Vietnam War, but from a unique vista – Eritrea.

Bordered by Ethiopia to the south, Sudan to the west, and Djibouti to the southeast, Eritrea in 1968 offered the U.S. a unique site. Kagnon Station “was atop a mountain and (America) used it for strategic communication of Mediterranean Sea,” said Stratford.

Stratford discovered golf years ago and received his first lesson from Beach. A friendship was started and in subsequent years Beach agreed to get Stratford’s grandson into the game.

“Golf,” said Beach, “can be therapeutic.”

Joe Lazaro (right) was often invited by Bob Hope (left) to participate in charitable golf tournaments.

It can also serve as a vehicle to show veterans that they have not been forgotten and can use the game to find answers to emotional stress and grow a sense of community.

There are no regrets in many cases. Hightower said joining the Air Force helped her immensely. “I grew up, I matured, I developed a better disposition,” she said. “I love my country and the more I traveled around, the more I realized how blessed I was to live in the country I live in.”

But the risks are not to be denied, she said.

Unlike the late Lazaro, whose blindness was an easy connection with anyone he met, Hightower suffers from the excruciatingly misunderstood Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). “I also have Gulf War Syndrome,” she said. “The fumes, the burn pits . . . it’s very real.”

A law enforcement officer for six years with the Air Force, six more with the federal government, and 10 years with the Boston Police Department, Hightower is retired but through the VA she was steered to the Recreational Therapy program and introduced to golf. The game was an easy embrace and Hightower takes part in a number of opportunities that are offered to put golf clubs in her hands.

“I brought my cousin (Willie) with me today,” said Hightower. “He’s also got PTSD but he likes the golf and with Bob Beach, it’s great. Bob is very patient. When he’s around, I just hit the ball.”

No surprise given his all-inclusive mantra, but Beach has held clinics in Waltham at a facility built for a heroic native son. The Joe Lazaro Memorial Putting Green is an all-turf facility that enables golfers to chip and putt and Lynne Lazaro never visits it or talks about it without choking back her emotions.

Golf champion. Military hero. They describe her father beautifully and as a handful of veterans hit golf balls in the Veterans Day sunshine, Lynne Lazaro drew strength knowing her dad personified all that was good about this day and this cause.