When I went to work on my first T.V. show, B.L. Stryker, I never imagined that I would be spending many hours at what was then called Burt Reynolds Horse Ranch. I don’t even own a cowboy hat.
The first time I rolled through the fancy gates, driving up the long asphalt driveway, I was immediately blown away. One hundred sixty nine acres covered in trees or grass, a runway for the small airplane on site, hangers, sound stages and numerous buildings. Pretty much manicured lawns and pastures end to end.
Seemed okay though. There were no horses to be seen, although I heard that there were a few somewhere on the property. It was a magnificent sight.
In all my time there I never saw a live horse, although I did make a large plaque to put at the base of a statue of his favorite horse who died.
My brother and I had been sent 30 minutes north from the production offices in West Palm Beach. Our job was to turn Burt’s private Astar helicopter into an FBI aircraft for a shoot the next day by covering the graphics with black vinyl and adding the FBI logo.
We ended up doing this numerous times later to convert it into a “sheriffs helicopter.” Burt rented his machine to the production company as well as the ranch itself for the run of the show. Covered his private plane a couple of times for the same reason.
The BR Ranch was used extensively in “Smokey and the Bandit 2.” Several of the sets were still there: the Gator Motel and the old gas station from that time.
As we were working frantically to meet the deadline, a black Mercedes station wagon (yes, they make that) came flying up on us. The driver pulled up and stuck his head out the window.
“You boys need a hand?” With that famous laugh and a wave, he took off like it was a Pontiac Trans Am. We just stood there in shock. Did that really happen?
For the next two and a half years, I made the long trek to the ranch. After a while, it became like a second home to me.
I noticed that there was a very old fellow dressed in old work pants and usually a flannel shirt who seemed to just meander around the property. He would occasionally stop to say hello and shoot the breeze with me.
Was he maybe a retired ranch hand who was allowed to live there? I asked one of the crew about him.
“That’s Burt Sr.,” laughed the co-worker. “He lives in that house over there.”
I would occasionally see Fern, BR’s mother, strolling with him.
There were two large airplane hangers near the long grass runway. At that time they functioned as a home for the helicopter and a place to store Burt’s memorabilia including the “stagecoach” he used when he and Lonnie Anderson got married at the BR. Ahead of that wedding, they had built a small church in one of the pastures. A nice one. Everyone called it “The Chapel.”
In the most interesting hangar, there sat one of the Bandit’s Trans Ams in its full glory. Later, I had to do a repair job on the gold eagle on the hood, a very tricky job. Some yoyo had damaged it with a steel ladder.
As in every movie, several of them existed, all exactly the same. That’s called a “hero” vehicle. Not because there’s a hero driving it, but due to it being a focal point throughout the film. If there’s a problem mechanically or it gets damaged, they just slide in a replacement.
Sitting next to the Trans Am was a child’s version, either a pedal car or battery operated – completely painted to match the big car – with a Florida State license plate reading “Quentin” for his adopted son.
Deep in the wooded part of the property stood a treehouse about 20 feet up in a large oak. Not the little shack you set up for your kid in the backyard. It was a beautifully constructed “cabin style,” fully-functioning modern house. Not really big, but swank. BR had it built when he was dating Dinah Shore back in the 70’s and they would use it to get away from the world for short spells.
Even after the show ran its two year course, I worked at the ranch off and on for another couple of years. Mostly helping restore deteriorating signs from the Smokey and the Bandit sets which would later be part of the paid tours.
The Burt Reynolds Ranch was a one of a kind place. I met many people there, including the occasional famous actor or director. My experience there opened a lot of doors for me and got me started in the film industry.
Thom Caraccio ([email protected]) is a retired musician and retired motion picture scenic artist living in West Palm Beach, Florida who hails from Columbus. He graduated from S.D. Lee High in 1968 and still considers Columbus his real hometown.
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