Long before she knew the significance of “1913” or gave thought to golf, or heard the names Harry Vardon, Ted Ray, and Eddie Lowery, Sheila Macomber was struck by the essence of the great man who during quiet and proper gatherings in a Wellesley home in the late 1960s, was cloaked in decorum.

“Every dinner, there’d be a moment of silence and he would say, ‘For the lady who isn’t with us,’ And there’d be a lump in our throats,” said Macomber, whose mother, Barbara McLean, was one of two daughters born to Francis and Stella Ouimet.

Embrace the legend of Francis Ouimet. Cherish the significance of his stunning U.S. Open victory. Savor how, with spunky 10-year-old Lowery as his caddie, Ouimet beat Vardon and Ray to unleash a torrent of golf enthusiasm in the U.S.

The movie, the books, the countless newspaper and magazine articles. They all do great justice to the legacy.

But it’s Macomber who can humanize Ouimet through “a family lens” where golf is not the focus.

“To me, he was ‘Grampy’ and what I remember about being with him, and the stories I was told, had nothing to do with golf.”

They had everything to do with a dignity that framed Ouimet’s life.

The “suitcase story,” for instance. When Ouimet discovered a young colleague was making his first-ever trip out of town and didn’t have a suitcase, Francis brought him one – stuffed full of new shirts that he had been given and never worn.

Macomber’s mother told her the story of a secretary who desperately wanted to adopt a child and Ouimet went to his contacts who made it happen.

When Francis’ mother, MaryEllen, died in 1932 (his father had died in 1921), it was Francis who told his brothers Wilfred and Raymond that the house would belong to their sister, Louise.

As for Stella Sullivan of Brighton, whom Lt. Francis Ouimet married in September of 1918 while he was stationed at the Quartermaster’s Depot in Cambridge?

“My mother used to tell me that whatever her mother wanted, she got. I call that loyalty, because Grampy loved her.”

When Stella died on Jan. 29, 1965, it left Ouimet, then 72, crushed. For more than two-and-a-half years as a widower (Ouimet died in September of ’67), the moment of silence at the dinner table was a poignant reminder of what truly mattered to him.

Francis Ouimet guides daughter Barbara with her swing while Jane waits patiently. It's one of the rare times when the girls involved themselves in the game.

Yes, the 1913 U.S. Open provided everlasting fame. He had lifelong friendships with Lowery and Bobby Jones, historic standing in the Royal & Ancient, and powerful business confidants like William Danforth and his bosses at Brown Brothers Harriman.

There were countless trips out of state and to the United Kingdom for competitions. Around Boston, Francis played often in four-ball tournaments with Wilfred or Raymond or with Lowery, who sometimes paired with Wilfred. They were close-knit, these four, all of them galvanized by the game.

But that was the golf.

The family side brought him far more satisfaction and if he is fondly recalled as the young kid holding a lucky horseshoe at the end of his playoff win over Vardon and Ray, Sheila Macomber paints more personal pictures.

“He would come down for breakfast, always in his tweed suit, always a tie on and he’d settle in with the newspaper. It was very formal,” said Sheila, who lives on the Cape with her husband, Ed.

“But he did ‘grandfatherly’ things with me and my older brothers (Bruce and Francis). Like the time he put Bruce on his lap and let him steer the car.”

A wrong turn was made and they were in a parade. “Grampy told Bruce, ‘Just keep driving.’ ”

Though Francis Ouimet had doted over his daughters, never had he introduced them to golf. He did urge Barbara to attend college (she went to Emmanuel) “but Aunt Jane was the fun one and wasn’t going to go to college,” laughed Sheila.

Barbara and Odber McLean had two boys and a girl, while Jane and John Salvi had two daughters, Leslie and Nancy.

Occasionally, “Grampy and my dad (Odber) would go down into the basement and have a beer and he got along with John (Salvi), too,” said Sheila Macomber. “They had all been in the service and I think that was their bond.”

The Ouimet home in Wellesley “was a like a museum, there were golf trophies everywhere,” said Sheila. But that was really the only concession made to the game for which he was so well known.

“I kind of wish Grampy had asked me to play golf. But I just remember how kind he was and the sweet stories we’d hear about him.”

Sheila and Ed can only imagine how honored “Grampy” would be to know that his great-granddaughter – the Macombers’ daughter, Caitlin Wallerce – works at Brown Brothers Harriman. Immersed in the sort of humility that defined her great-grandfather, Caitlin “never told anyone at work (of the relation) and it was a few years before they found out who she was,” said Sheila.

Passionate attendees to the annual Francis Ouimet Scholarship Fund banquet, Sheila and Ed, as well as Caitlin and her husband, Alan, go because they believe in this magical story. They savor the friendship with Lowery’s daughter, Cynthia Wilcox, who also attends. They trust what Barbara and Jane told them.

“Francis always said his greatest legacy was this scholarship fund, not the U.S. Open,” said Sheila.

The prospects of the story being told to a TV audience in a few weeks when the U.S. Open is held at The Country Club makes Sheila smile.

But here is something that makes her even happier: Caitlin and Alan’s toddler is named Liam Ouimet Wallerce.

“We are hoping that he plays golf,” said Sheila.

She is not alone.

> Next week in “Power Fades:” Cynthia Wilcox talks about her father, Eddie Lowery.