Harold Nisker spent roughly 50 years of his life playing golf in his Toronto suburb. He visited the course at his country club nearly every day, teeing up to play on the miles of pristine grass.
Like many golfers, Nisker grew to have a certain expectation of the turf: green, trim, with no weeds in sight. But when Nisker died in 2014 from a rare type of lymphoma, his son Andrew began to wonder if his father’s death could be connected to all those golf games – and the pesticide applications that helped the golf course attain its aesthetic perfection.
