Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

Anton du Plessis.

I was reminded recently that the darkest days of winter are behind us, a date that coincides with my love taking his bicycle out for a final ride. I used this little metaphor when I shared the news, and I think maybe it will stay with me now: the space that he’s just out cycling may eventually cripple me, or or may bring me solace. Time will only tell.

The darkest days of this winter may well be behind me, but I am a long way from being ready to move on. So forgive me for yet another post: this one will be a tribute to Anton’s legacy: words written by those close to him, spoken at his memorial services and placed here for you to read at leisure.

I know that they don’t encompass everyone’s own memories, so I welcome you to add your own in the comments: a tribute to him in the best way that I can.

And so, the first piece, are some of my own words.

For My Love,

I sit alongside you today having asked Jamie to read my words, knowing that I won’t be able speak.  Words I do have though, perhaps not eulogy appropriate but I’ll write from my heart and see where that takes me.

Anton has been in my life for 26 years, we’ve lived together for 20, been married for 18.  And battled cancer. 

A long time before then, he was born the eldest child of Johan and Koekie du Plessis.  Both his parents came from big families, and where I may have been raised by a village, he was raised by the family.  Deeply knit into every fabric of his aunts, uncles and cousins’ lives, it formed the basis for the beginning of our own relationship.  

I was 21 when encountered him the first time: Easter weekend, and a fleeting glimpse as he sat eating a late breakfast with his cousin whom I worked with. His cousin, Hubner, was his bestie, his wingman, his Ride-or-Die.  They were inseparable: they partied hard, played hard, worked hard.  Between sky diving, cycling across the countryside, travelling and camping, Anton shared Hubner’s passion for the South African bushveld, which brought him regularly to the hotel where I started to work in 1999. 

Later that night, after I had joined my own Ride-or-Die Michelle for drinks at Sun City, he came home with me. He spun me around dancing to Bon Jovi, claiming [him] as the greatest poet alive, and then curled up next to me, pretending to purr in my ear.  I told him not to get too comfortable, that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and by the time winter came that year, I was meeting his parents and sister, and I brought him down to the farm to meet my own “village”.

We dated for a year, travelling for 2 hours backwards between our own homes several times a month, but in the spirit of youth, found we needed our own space and we broke up.

A testament to both our upbringing, and our character, the years between our youth-filled break-up and a re-kindling of our relationship were spent seeking new adventures.  I found myself in London for 2 years, working as a chef, and by the time I returned to South Africa, Anton had been offered a job here in Strasbourg, working for the very same company with whom we are indebted to for our beautiful French life.

However, those years apart were not without angst and discomfit.  For 4 years we had no communication, merely hearing of each other’s’ lives through family and friends.  When, in 2004, his sister Belinda held a christening for his nephew, Anton flew home to South Africa to attend, an event which I too had been invited to as well.

Tears and apologies were shared, forgiveness offered and taken,and we tentatively started a relationship again.  Months later, Anton asked me then if I would be willing to move to France with him.  I knew it was not the right time for me, and almost immediately he realised that he missed his homeland.  He decided to return home.

I do believe that life has its own way of working its way out.  Following Anton’s return to South Africa, we got married and had our girls.  We bought a house, Anton ran marathons and cycle races, we travelled.  By the time he returned to Strasbourg in December 2012 for training, we were both ready for something new.  The offer of a job from Ortho took a few days to contemplate:  how to bid farewell to our families, but give ourselves and the girls an opportunity of a lifetime?

I have no regrets, and this is the one thing I whispered to him often during the last month.  In almost 12 years of our lives in France, we have experienced and lived so much.  Our girls are wholly multi-cultural, fluent in both the French culture and the South African culture.  We bring a piece of our own lives to our French connection: food, sport, music, our warmth, our spirit.  From the French we have taken a hundred new experiences: we drink Champagne, we think Antoine du Pont is a worthy rugby player, we think the French drive a lot like South Africans and we adore the weather and seasons as if we’ve lived here all our life.  But also from the French we learn to take our pride, solidarity, our rights and our security.  Here we are seen, and we have built one of the most amazing networks of friends. With every message I have received over the last week, and from the months that this cancer has taken my husband away from me, I am reminded of the man Anton was: my heart fills with pride becauseit’s something we built. From the cricket community to the cycling guys, to our rugby friends, the friends we’ve made at the school gates waiting for children and our own family away from home to Anton’s vast network of colleagues across the world, not to mention the family and best friends in South Africa and further, hundreds have all been impacted by his passing.

These words feel inadequate, but they will never be enough. They don’t encompass everything I’m feeling, they barely even scratch the surface, so I have asked a few others to speak as well.

Anton was my rock.  He was the earth to my sky.  The sunrise to my sunset.  We were our best in our home, around our table with our friends breaking bread and wine, laughing over anything and everything that we loved to talk about.  We did life together and it breaks my heart that we won’t be able to carry on together. 

But it goes without saying, Anton would probably tell me to get up out of bed, and to train up for a marathon or something equally un-Gaenor like.  To live our lives, and simply to hold him in our hearts. I am certain he will remain there for many, forever.

In ending, I fear I have based this too heavily on our life in France.  It’s not to say my homeland is not a part of it.  Those words are just a little bit different, and for another day.  For today, for now, I will never forget the kindness of each of you for being a part of our lives.  Thank you for everything you bring to it.

To Anton, go well my angel.  Enjoy the cycle, run those marathons, jump out of those aeroplanes, shine up the cricket ball, tell your bad dad jokes, enjoy the coffee and beer, and may the braaivles meat taste like it’s from South Africa.  Always.

I love you, from yesterday until eternity.

My brother, Graham, who succeeds in some deeply emotional words while maintaining some lightness, Anton would have loved this.

To my darling Gaenor, Alex, and Beth, and all of your friends who are here to support you
today… as we say goodbye to Anton and, mostly, remember the incredible life he lived.
It is still so hard to believe that we are here doing this, and Gaenor, I want to
acknowledge how strong you have been through the last 12 months. It is really not fair
that anyone should have to go through what you have been through, to see your rock
and your pillar of strength crumble and fall. You’ve been steadfast, caring, selfless and
courageous, and a perfect example to Alex and Beth and all of us, of how to deal with
such a tragedy.
We will all get our chance to be sad and cry, and grieve in our own time, and we will have
to process in our own ways that Anton is no longer with us, but for now, I want to
remember who Anton is to us:
I first met Anton way way back when Gaenor was working in the Pilansberg and I was at
university in Pretoria, and she invited her little brother to visit for the weekend. I could
see from the outset that he was a kind, gentle, fun, quick-witted person to hang out
with. He would regale a never-ending supply of amusing stories, usually something to
do with wildlife, hunting, cycling, and his cousin Hipbner.
I was proud to be asked to be a groomsman at Anton and Gaenor’s wedding, and more
than that, to become family. He loved bringing ALL his girls to the farm in Boston, he
showed a genuine interest in whatever farming was going on at the time, and he loved to
tease and joke: about where on the farm they were going to build their retirement home,
and when could I supply him his next dose of horse steroids. My kids didn’t get to see
much of Uncle Anton due to the distance between us, but they fondly remember his
friendly fun teasing jokes and pokes in the ribs.
I’ve written down a bunch of words here which resonate with what Anton loves, and
what he means to us. Randomly, they all begin with the letter B.
Top of the list: obviously, Bicycle. And how he loved it. Not it, all of them. The road bike,
the other road bike, the mountain bike, the other mountain bike, the spare mountain
bike, the single speed, the spare single speed. And who-knows-how-many-others he
never told us about. They epitomized what made Anton happy. The biggest smile you’d
ever see on his face wasn’t from Gaenor, sorry Gaenor. It came on 2 wheels, and it was
infectious.
The 2nd B word, also obvious, is Braai. The ultimate braai master he was. None of us
could light the braai without guaranteeing that Anton would sooner or later find any
excuse to kidnap the tongs and finish braaing for us. That was his happy place, and that
was fine with us. Every time we light a braai, Anton, we will remember you.
Ball sports was another of his big loves. Golf, Rugby and Cricket, particularly. He never
missed an opportunity to spend time with his Pa on the golf course, indeed most family
holidays revolved around fitting in a customary 18 holes with his Pa. Special times
indeed, which Johan will cherish forever.
He has a league of cricketing friends around the globe, I’m sure some are here today:
the one time he got to play with me when the club side was short a player, we had big
expectations of the big man. Alas that day didn’t belong to him, but he took his fines like
a man and showed what team spirit was about. He gave me a pair of cricket longs which
no longer fitted him, I still hope to grow into them one day.
I’ll skip through some others like Beer, Brandy, Biltong and Beth and finish with the word
Brave.
Bravest man I know. Brave enough to marry into my family. Brave enough to move to
France with a young family and start afresh. Brave enough to even support Western
Province while growing up in Blue Bulls country. Absolutely fearless the way he tackled
the challenges of this last year, never complaining, always positive, always true to
himself, and never giving up. Anton we salute you.
Alex and Beth, your father’s love for you is immeasurable. He is so proud of both of you,
don’t ever forget that. Follow your dreams and become the beautiful young women he’d
expect you to be.
Gaenor, the mountain you need to climb seems insurmountable, but we all are here for
you and Alex and Beth. We will try fill the gaps that Anton leaves, so know always, that
we are here for you.
Thank you, Anton, for the love, the laughter, and the memories. You will be deeply missed but never forgotten.

Rest in peace dear brother.

From my Dad, who has endured my Mom’s passing 10 years ago, so close to this pain, and was with us during the last month (thanks to his Irish passport. Never did we imagine that by obtaining that passport at the age of 75 did we know how it would be used):

Gaenor met Anton while working as a chef at a hotel safari lodge 26 years ago through mutual friends. She brought him home soon thereafter to the farm and introduced him to our community.  

Anton was always an out-door person. Gaenor had, after all, met him working in the Bush! My first memory of Anton was Gaenor taking him to the local Pietermaritzburg airport to parachute. He certainly impressed me and Gaenor’s Mumwhen he jumped out of a plane with nothing more holding him up than some cloth and ropes (albeit very strong cloth!!)

Anton’s real passion, I think, was cycling. Just last week,reminiscing with a Boston neighbour, he told me he’d once seen Anton cycling, at 6 o’clock, on a crystal clear summer morning, on a gravel road, going past his farm gate. 8 hours later, Mike passed him, this time on a tar road, but still 20 kms from home. He loved being able to come to the farm and enjoy the access to open roads and nature on his doorstep.

Anton was aways generous with his time. Nothing was ever too much trouble for him. The first 2 times I visited them in France, I was intimidated by the ‘foreign-ness’ around me and my ability to speak my second language Zulu was of no use once I’d landed here. So, I welcomed the precise instructions I was given by Anton to traverse across France on my own. Completely terrified of this commute via 2 trains and a bus down to the south west of France, it was due to Anton’s amazing ability to give one easy to follow directions that I arrived for the start of my Compostela Pilgrimage.

Just 3 years ago, Sheila and I were visiting Strasbourg.Another beautiful spring day, for something to do, Anton thought it was a good idea to visit the Gambsheim Bridge on the Rhine River, via the Wantzenau Forest on bikes, all 6 of us. Typically, there were enough bikes to go around!   With Anton’s generosity,  I was given the honour of riding  THE Bike, Anton’s precious red racing bike.  It was too big for me;it was the type of racing bike where one rides bent forward crunched over racing handle bars. As much as we thoroughly enjoyed the day, it was very stressful riding Anton’s bike,  asmost of my day was spent keeping my eyes on the back wheel of whoever was riding in front of me!! I didn’t see much of the river, but I did enjoy the lock bridge and fish ladder.

Anton was the perfect host, always making people feel comfortable. He had the confidence to talk to strangers, make friends feel welcome and always managed to put visitors at ease through a joke and a laugh.

In earlier days, we used to go on road trip holidays as afamily. The one trip which showed his extreme patience and nature as a true gentleman, was an epic 3 week and 7000km overland trip through 3 Southern African countries. He ran the Comrades Marathon and with stiff aching legs, sunburn and virtually no toenails, we set off the very next morning with him in the drivers seat.

Where he earned my admiration on that trip, was his patience travelling with a 2 year old Alex, that age when potty training is a challenge, a 5 month pregnant wife, later to be Beth, a menopausal mother-in-law, and a father-in-law with a prostate problem. It was a difficult combination to say the least, but Anton coped admirably.

Work-wise, as far as I know, Anton achieved as much as he did in his chosen field, through military training and years of dedication and work experience. With diligence, determination, honesty  and in-house training, he was able to support his family well. He would not have been here in Strasbourg working for one company for almost 12 years had they not recognised these attributes in him, and had he not enjoyed the work he did. I have absolute admiration for those who give up the luxury of speaking in their mother tongue, the comforts of their home country and family,  to seek work in another country. And then make a successful career and life of it. Those of his colleagues that I have met have always praised his work ethic and were most complimentary of his achievements.   

These past 10 months, once his cancer had been diagnosed, Anton showed true grace of character and fought against theinevitability that fate had dealt him and remained determined and positive. He made the most of his precious time with his family and made the challenging journey back to South Africa in the summer to go and do the things they needed to do.  Best of all, he helped them make wonderful memories together. 

Bless you, Anton. We salute you. When your ashes come back to be scattered as you have asked them to be, know that they will be treasured by a community who accepted you as one of their own.  Rest in Peace.

From Andrea, who has been listening to me and living this journey with me from the day I mentioned Anton was walking weirdly. Thank you for everything over the last year, and these generous words of support at our French funeral service.

Thank you all for being here today as we remember and celebrate the life of Anton. I’m deeply honoured to share my reflections and memories of him, and I stand here representing our family, and the greater community of Boston. Gaenor and I grew up in a small rural village (that both of us are still lucky to call home) and consider this community to be a part of our greater family unit. Many of our friends and family from Boston are spread out across South Africa and the world, but the bonds that tie us together remain strong, and being able to pick up from where we last left off with a Bostonian brings comfort. Many of them would have liked to be here today, if only the world wasn’t so big right?

Gaenor met Anton and first introduced him to the community in 1999. It surprised me when I realized that I’ve known Anton for way more than half my life. Gaenor brought Anton to Boston for a family wedding, and nothing is more intimidating than meeting your girlfriend’s extended family and all her friends, especially when a) you’re different from them and b) they’re quite protective of their own. And it’s a testament to Anton and his personality that the first introduction went so well and subsequent visits thereafter were all filled with memories and stories still told today. Being only 17 at the time, I wasn’t witness to the goings on of the nights at Crowded House, a grimy nightclub in the closest city Pietermaritzburg. But the legend goes that all the Boston men (Anton being considered one from that very first visit) enacted a skydive move to Tom Petty’s Free Falling, dropping down onto the dirtiest, stickiest nightclub floor, only to be shrieked at by Claire shortly thereafter to “take these boys home”, so embarrassed she was by their behaviour out in public. This was how easily Anton assimilated into our little Boston community, and was a part of it for the next 26 years, going back to his most recent visit in August last year where he was able to sit on the stoep (front porch) and look over the farm that he called home. Here he was able to watch the farm in action, gaze over the rolling hills that the Midlands is so well known for, spot the firebreaks being burnt all along the horizon, and drink tea and rusks (because there is ALWAYS tea in Boston). 

This was a place Anton called home, he buried one of his dogs in the orchard in our Mums garden, he called our parents Mom and Dad, he attended every wedding and other special life events in Boston over the years, he spent time with Gaenor and my Mum in her last days, and was a steady comfort to Gaenor over her traumatic passing. The world never feels bigger than in times of sadness and loss, but it’s comforting to know that Gaenor will be taking Anton’s ashes home and they’ll rest forever in Boston in the small cemetery alongside the church in which Gaenor and Anton were married in 2006. 

Gaenor, Heather and I (and by extension Anton) were all lived in Johannesburg at a point and found ourselves by chance living in the same suburb and a few hundred meters apart from each other. This meant we had long lazy brunches at the Hills house. There was always cricket or tennis on the tv, something yummy Gaenor conjured up in the kitchen, and champers and orange juice on these sunny mornings in the Hill’s garden around the pool. And we put life on hold for a bit to enjoy each other company. Sometimes the morning extended into lunch and Anton would braai. Gaenor worked evenings at that time and I’d often walk over to theirapartment and have dinner with Anton. He made a delicioustuna pasta especially for me in my fussy pescatarian phase. I never fully appreciated living so close to Gaenor and Anton during this short time. 

It’s hard to capture the impact Anton’s had on all of us, but one thing is clear: he lived a full life and one which showcased his generosity, open hearted nature, his love forand loyalty to his family and community, his sense of adventure and his willingness to always try something new,his grit and determination and his sense of humour.

His generosity was evident in how he welcomed people into his home and hosted so many of you here for a famous South African braai. And he used this to engage and meet with people and in that way formed so many relationships with those around him and Gaenor. So many of you experiencedhis open-hearted nature in this way, and how he was always willing to help, offer advice and was always there to support those close to him. His extended family back in South Africa were so important to him and holidays back home always involved seeing everyone, including spending time on the farm with Gaenor and my family. He had time for everyone, and they were all equally important to him. He formed so many deep connections and communities through sport, and I so enjoyed hearing Gaenor speak of her time alongside a cricket field here in Strasbourg. His grit and determination were never more evident then when he ran the ultimate human race three times – a gruelling 90km road ultra marathon in South Africa called the Comrades Marathon, alongside more than 20 000 other runners. It was his goal to run it again the year he turned 50, but the family were unable to travel back for the race. Anton spent many hours on his bike, and he was a true cycling enthusiast for all of his adult life. 

A good man may not be perfect, but his actions consistently reflect his effort to live with purpose and to positively impact those around him. A good man creates a meaningful and fulfilling life for himself and his family, and truly understandswho he is, what his core values are, and what bringsfulfilment to his life. He sets meaningful goals and works towards meeting those. He serves others and contributes to something bigger than himself and stays open-minded and curious. He embraces challenges and sees them as opportunities, and above all: lives authentically as himself. Living with purpose is not a destination, but a journey, and Anton lived that journey up until his last day. 

Out lives go on without you, but nothing is the same

We have to hide our heartache, when someone speaks your name

Sad are the hearts that love you, silent are the tears that fall

Living without you is the hardest part of all

You did so many things for us, your heart was kind and true

And when we needed someone, we could always count on you. 

The special years will not return when we are all together

But with the love in our hearts, you walk with us forever

From the Strasbourg Strollers Cricket Club, who have always been a source of joy and welcomed us into their fold with open arms, written by Nick Gould, without whom Anton would never have played cricket in France.

I am humbled to give this little tribute to Anton about his love of sport generally but mainly about his love of cricket as part of the Strasbourg Strollers Cricket Club. While there are somepersonal thoughts here, since I knew him not only as a cricketing team mate but also a work colleague for about 15 years, it is mainly an attempted distillation of the thoughts, sentiments and memories expressed by many of his Stroller’s team mates and friends.

________________________________________________________

I first met Anton when he arrived in Strasbourg in 2002 with another colleague Steve from his home country of South Africa as an engineering specialist at the in-vitro diagnostics company for whom I worked as a Clinical Biochemist. I was a keen cricketer and whenever the England team was playing a test-match I would turn up to work in my cricket club sweater. One day not long afterAnton had arrived, I duly turned up in my cricket club sweater. Anton noticed it immediately and asked if there was cricket played in Strasbourg. I told him there was and that I played cricket too. With that Anton fired off a volley of questions along the line of; ‘Where do they play? How can I join? When’s the next game? To whom should I send mysubs? Etc. Anton joined the Strasbourg Strollers very soon afterward and remained an active member right to the end.

Keen on all sports, he followed avidly the fortunes of the Springboks rugby union side and of course the South African cricket team which led to much good-natured banter between us at work. I am told that he was also very fond of playing Pool and was often to be found at Kelly’s with some of the other Strollers team-mates. No doubt clearing the table in a single visit. His ability on the golf course was also at a level where I suspect his handicap was in single digits. He was also passionate about cycling and talked to friendswith glee about the Canyon gravel bike he had purchased. He also ran the Comrades Marathon in about 10 hours. An 89km race from Pietermaritzburg to Durban it is one of the most gruelling double marathons in the world.

But we as cricketers all knew him best as our very talented cricketing colleague. He was a fabulous all-round cricketer who was a very powerful attacking batter capable of gettinghigh scores at great speed; a mammoth innings away at Basel and a match winning partnership with Paul Newell away to Freiburg have been brought to my attention. He was aswell a talented fast medium bowler who was always likely to take wickets and often at crucial times in a match. I think that Anton would have walked into the 1st eleven of any quality cricket club in England and I suspect in South Africa too. Indeed, he was probably good enough to have played at county level. He was in short, a cricketing class act. None-the-less he saw all his Strollers teammates not possessed of such talent as being as valuable to the side as himself. For Anton it was never about him, it was about the team and the camaraderie that exists between teammates of all and any ability. He organised, taught and encouraged his team mates. For Anton, each would make a valuable contribution to the team in their own way.

Anton was totally committed to the Strollers Cricket Club. He was always at the ground early to set out the wicket, boundary markers, kit bags and to gather everyone together. He played a major role setting up the practice nets at the site where Strollers played and was very often there encouraging, teaching and nurturing players at the midweek evening practice sessions he organised. He also turned up reliably to help teach the children in the gym at Lucie Berger school the basics of cricket prior to them going on a school trip to England.

Anton served for many years on the cricket club committee including as President ably supported by his wife Gaenor as TreasurySecretary. Indeed, the Du Plessis family as a whole came, I think, to truly represent the spirit of the Strollers Cricket Club; collegiate, welcoming to all, indeed he always treated everyone no matter their ability or age as equal team mates on and off the field of play, and playing to win while at the same time really enjoying a social afternoon on the cricket field and in the bar afterwards with the opposition.

Many club members have described since learning of his passing, what Anton was to them and have recounted some anecdotes. The following are some examples of both:

“Anton was a friend, president, team-mate; a gem of a human, a cheerful and amiable personality filled with kindness.”

“Anton was always a joy. His passion for the game, his unwavering spirit, and his camaraderie made every match special. Anton had a way of lifting everyone around him, whether it was with his encouragement on the field or his humour off it.”

“Anton was such an immensely popular person at the club and he will be sorely missed.”

“Anton was a great sportsman and genuinely fine gentleman.”

“What Anton impressed on me most was not that he loved the game – although of course he did – it was that he wanted to make sure everyone else loved it.”

“I recall the ‘Braais’ or BBQ’s that Anton and Gaenor generously hosted for South African expats from the surrounding region in France and Germany. Gaenor providing delicious side dishes and Anton the Grill Master grilling the various meats brought by the guests to perfection. The perfect backdrop for discussions about all things cricket and rugby.”

“When Anton first played in our annual weekend away tour against Milan cricket club, Nick Lynam the organiser asked him, as we were getting ready to play, if it was ok for him to “skip”. Anton interpreted this as being asked if he didn’t mind skipping that afternoons’ game. Anton said he would do so and went and grabbed a cold beer and sat down on the grass to watch the game. Only for Nick Lynam a few minutes later to ask him what he was doing sitting down with a beer in hand when he was supposed to be captaining (skippering) the team. Anton was out of the blocks like an Olympic sprinter and busy organising the side within seconds.”

They say the good die young.

Just maybe Anton my friend there is some truth in this as you are without doubt a very very good soul.

The Strollers send all our most loving thoughts to Gaenor, Alex and Beth at this deeply sad time for them all.

From Meike and Dan, who represent our own home grown family in France. Friendships made around the love of a braai and rugby.

Hi everyone/Howzit,

We gather here today to honor and celebrate the life of Anton, a man who had a remarkable way of bringing people together and making them feel truly at home.

My family and I first met Anton through the South African community here in France. It was a simple gesture that brought us together—Anton encouraged Gaenor to invite us over for a braai. We left that day not just as visitors but as friends, and from then on, we always looked forward to an invite and a kuier at their place.

Anton had an extraordinary ability to connect with people. When he asked, “How are you?” it wasn’t just a polite question—it was heartfelt. He genuinely cared and listened. That warmth, that attentiveness, is what made time spent with him feel so special.

He was a man of many passions. He loved sports, whether watching, reading, or doing them—rugby, golf, cycling, cricket—you name it. But beyond sports, Anton was always up for a new project, whether it was making boerewors, perfecting his biltong, or showing enthusiasm for what others were working on. He approached life with curiosity, energy, and an eagerness to engage with the world.

Above all, Anton loved his family. He adored Gaenor and was endlessly proud of his girls. He would beam with pride whenever he spoke about them, sharing their accomplishments and stories with anyone who’d listen.

Anton’s kindness, his hospitality, and his passion for life have left a lasting imprint on everyone who knew him. He had a way of making you feel seen, heard, and valued.

As we remember Anton today, let us carry forward the qualities he embodied: his generosity, his care for others, and his zest for life. Let us honor him by cherishing our own relationships and living with the same fullness of spirit that he did.

Rest easy, Anton. You will be deeply missed and always remembered.

These are word from Yoann. Kind gentle soft spoken Yoann who is so beautifully French and whose friendship Anton has held onto very tightly.

How can life be so hard and unfair? We all have memories of Anton cycling, running, or eating vegetable sticks at the office for lunch.

When he joined Ortho 22 years ago, he brought with him so much energy, his smile, his positive thinking, his enthusiasm; he changed the atmosphere at the Second Level (our team). He introduced us to Afrikaans, the Big 5, his famous carrot cake, a very tasty dry meat, and so many other things.

Anton loved sports. We all remember his rugby jerseys the day before important games, and it was not always the South African one. I can’t even say which sport he loved the most rugby (most likely) but golf, cricket, cycling, and running were not far behind. How much must you love cycling to come to work every day doing 25km, and some days even more, as the ride was so nice along the canal?

Over those years, at the Second Level, he trained and supported people from all over the world. On top of his professionalism, his kindness, his friendliness, his benevolence, and his attention to the well-being of each of us were unanimously recognized by everyone who had the chance to work with Anton. What he enjoyed the most was working on our instruments, fixing issues, or helping colleagues to do it. Anton was always ready, making himself available to take on a new task or a last-minute request, doing it with a smile or a joke.

On a personal note, I will always remember our talks while running together, even though we used to joke that “if we can talk, it’s because we aren’t running fast enough.” Anton was always sharing news about you, Gaenor, Beth, and Alex; he was very proud of you. Always asking about my family, remembering their birthdays, asking about Matheo’s last rugby game.

What impressed me the most about Anton was his determination. When he set a personal goal, he would do everything possible to achieve it. He convinced me to run a marathon together, he built our training program, and we had to strictly stick to it, even to the point of running around a roundabout, always the same one, to ensure we ran 7 kilometers and not 6.8. Anton, wherever you are, be aware that, for me, there is now a roundabout in your name.

I, we, will miss your smile and your kindness, Anton

Rest in peace.

A tribute to Anton from his dad Johan, who has beautifully written in English.

A gifted son who was taken much too early in his life. A son, but also a partner
whether it was hunting, golfing, or having a braai.
You were an awesome person, always ready with a smile and a helping hand.
Though your time with us was way too short, the memories we shared will forever
echo in our hearts.
From your early days, Anton was a very active sportsman, playing cricket, rugby, golf
and taking up skydiving, cycling, and running marathons in his later years. Anton
always lived life to the fullest. He had a unique ability to make everyone around him
feel special, whether it was through his kindness or showing respect to everyone or
lending a helping hand.
As a son, he was our pride and joy, always striving to make us proud. He cherished
our family, and we were his greatest source of strength. He went out of his way to
spend quality time with his family, both in South Africa and in France.
While the pain of losing him is immense, we find comfort in knowing that he lived a
life filled with love, laughter, and meaningful connections. We will carry his spirit with
us always, and his legacy will continue to inspire us to be better people.
Anton; Me, Moeksie, Belinda, Ruan, Gaenor and the Girls, we love you, and we will miss you dearly. May you rest in peace.

Cousin Colin has left me in tears with these words. I shouldn’t be surprised.

Not a single day goes by without me thinking of family far away but more so lately of Anton, Lizzy, Alex and Beth. Some years ago, at the height of Blou Bulle rugby supremacy I had teased Anton about how every second car in Pretoria, the other side of the Boerewors Curtain, was driving around with a very impressive set of giant “blue balls” dangling from their tow hitches. He told me that if the Sharks ever beat the Bulls, he would get me an appropriate set too. True to his word, after an uptick in the Sharks’ fortunes, Anton brought along with him to another memorable Netherby Christmas Eve dinner, a huge set of black balls for me to proudly hang from my tailgate, for as long as we were winning. They never made it to Aus because I thought the Aussies would not understand, and they don’t, I’ve not seen anything like that anywhere else in the world, except for that on Sunday morning (Oz time) we were travelling to Busselton and a car in front of us had a set of white ones proudly swinging from side to side. Shells, myself and the kids all had a chuckle remembering the ones Anton gave me and the inevitable jokes that such a thing would induce. Little did we know that just a few hours later we would hear the news of Anton’s passing. For me, it will always be a memory of Anton saying “Cheers! See you on the other side of the curtain “.

We will always remember Anton for his knowledge and interest in sports, especially cycling where the topic of tiny seats would always come up and be the butt of endless jokes 😂. He was always up for a joke, in fact I can hardly remember an occasion when he wasn’t laughing at something, someone and even himself. I’ll miss you My Maat!

To Lizzy. My Sweet, Brave, Strong Lizzy. Thank you for finding the strength to keep us all informed during Your’s and Anton’s darkest times. Your best qualities are sure to help you heal in time.

To Alex and Beth, we are so sorry for your loss. It must be of little consolation to tell you now that you’ve had the privilege of having a Dad to be proud of. A Dad who other people are proud to have had in our lives too. We wish you all the best and hope to see you soon.

Lots of love from Colin, Shelley, Harry and Thomas.

I could go on forever, sharing anecdotes and memories and photos. But with all of these here, I’ll stop. Maybe I can begin to heal. If anyone who has read all of these wishes to share their own, please feel free to add them in the comments section. I welcome each and every one.