The Brains Trust of “Rusticana” and one man down.
The story of Rusticana is not merely written in brick, mortar, and coats of paint; it is etched into the lineage of the men who have dedicated their weekends and their strength to its revival. The heart of this project has always been a "brain trust" composed of three generations: the eldest son, his eldest son, and the youngest eldest son. This direct line of heritage is deeply intertwined with the new history of Brandvlei, forming a bridge between the traditions of the past and the vision of the future.
Before every departure from Cape Town, the air would be thick with the scent of coffee and the rustle of blueprints. The three of us would convene, sitting around a table or leaning over the tailgate of the bakkie, meticulously planning the logistics of the upcoming trip. We debated plumbing layouts, calculated electrical loads, and strategised the most efficient way to tackle the Karoo’s unpredictable challenges. These sessions were about more than just task lists; they were the passing of wisdom from one generation to the next—a transfer of craftsmanship, patience, and the specific brand of grit required to build something in the desert.
Today, we carry a heavy silence in our ranks. With the loss of our patriarch, the middle link in our chain has become the anchor. Yet, even in our grief, there is a profound sense of purpose. We know that the work must continue; the house must reach its full potential. This is the enduring legacy and the unspoken directive that Dad—our "Pa"—would have imparted with a firm nod: "Don’t stop now." To leave the project unfinished would be to leave his story incomplete.
This continuity is perhaps most poignantly captured in the photographs of my son. We recently looked at two images side-by-side that tell the story of a lifetime. The first, taken in 2007, shows a small boy standing at the threshold of a daunting project. The second, taken in 2021, shows a young man who has grown into his role as a steward of this land. Standing beside him in both photos is our dear friend and local helper in Brandvlei—a man who has become as much a part of the house as the stones themselves.
Fourteen years separate those images, yet the bond remains unchanged. They are a testament to enduring friendships and a shared history that transcends the work itself. As we move forward with the renovations, we do so knowing that every nail driven and every trench dug is a tribute to the man who taught us how to lead. The three generations may have lost a member, but the vision of Rusticana remains as clear as a Karoo morning.
