Bookhardt Cemetery

By Tom Poland

On a cool, windy day I drove Old Number 6 through farm country. You’d a thought wild horses had kicked up the pollen-yellow dust drifting over the coastal plain, which runs flat as an ironing board. Distant forests edging fields seem a thin, ragged line a dark green crayon rubbed along the horizon.

As I approached Bookhardt Cemetery, a cedar missing its crown drew my eye. A long sandy lane runs by the cemetery. I pulled in and aimed the car back toward Old Number 6. I looked around. No church affiliation sign. Seemed too big for a family plot. It’s a walled cemetery with one wrought iron gate. Only one way in, one way out, which says a lot.

The wind moaned as I stared at the old cedar. It would take five men with arms linked to circle that tree. With its mushroom-like crown it looked a bit like the brush women use with cosmetics. Back of it stood an old oak that’d be right at home in an old plantation’s allée.

A remarkable cemetery with a remarkable story.

Up the lane comes a pickup trailing ancient sea bottom dust. Two men. The driver pulls over. The other man gets out.

“This is my family cemetery. We keep it maintained.”

“I see you do. I wasn’t going to stop but that cedar caught my eye.”

“Might be the oldest cedar in South Carolina.” He paused. “The top fell out but it keeps keeping on. My granddad planted that oak.”

Then he pointed. “See that stone over yonder with Antley on it? That’s Chris Antley’s grave. The greatest jockey America ever had.”

We talked a bit more and then the men left.

I walked over to Antley’s grave. A flat stone etched with his likeness in racing attire sat near a bed of bloomed-out irises. Jan. 6, 1966 — Dec. 2, 2000 … Son of Les and Michelle Antley … We will meet again

I would know Antley’s story before the sun set.

My research told a story of success and sadness. Growing up in Elloree, South Carolina, Antley discovered he had a rare connection with thoroughbreds.

“He showed up on his bicycle one day when he was about 14 and I think he wanted to go fishing in our pond,” said Franklin Smith of Elloree’s horse training center. “But instead, we put him to work, mucking out stalls, pulling the manure cart.”

“His way with horses was almost otherworldly,” said Drew Mollica, Antley’s agent of six years. “He was, simply stated, and I say it unequivocally, the best.”

Antley’s reputation as an elite jockey continued to grow in 1991 when he won the Kentucky Derby with Strike the Gold. In 1999, Antley rode Charismatic to victory in the Kentucky Derby and Preakness Stakes. At odds of 31-1, Charismatic was one of the longest shots in the 125th running of the Derby when he defeated Menifee by a head. Antley and Charismatic again defeated the favored Menifee in the Preakness.

On December 2, 2000, Antley died at the age of 34. His death in Pasadena seemed a blunt trauma murder later changed to accidental fall. Why Pasadena? To seek treatment for substance abuse.

Antley did not win the Triple Crown but he came close. Though favored in the Belmont Stakes in 1999, Antley and Charismatic finished third. Just after crossing the finish line, Charismatic suffered two broken bones in his left front leg. Antley dismounted and held the horse’s leg to prevent further injury. He saved the horse’s life.

An old cedar on the back roads led me to a story of triumph and tragedy. For me, the back roads are books and movies rolled into one. I intend to keep rolling … more stories wait for me and that means they wait for you, my reader.

Photo by Tom Poland

Georgia native Tom Poland writes a weekly column about the South, its people, traditions, lifestyle, and culture and speaks frequently to groups in the South. Governor Henry McMaster conferred the Order of the Palmetto upon Tom, South Carolina’s highest civilian honor, stating, “His work is exceptional to the state.” Poland’s work appears in books, magazines, journals, and newspapers throughout the South.

Visit Tom’s website at www.tompoland.net

Email him at [email protected]