Caddie Stories: My Husband’s Wildest Memories from Augusta National

A Note from Me

If you’ve been following all week, you’ve already read about Haley’s grandparents’ front yard tradition outside Gate 6 and my own reflections from growing up in Augusta. Today, we’re shifting gears and heading inside the ropes—with stories from my husband Bryan’s years as a caddie at Augusta National.

These are stories I never want our kids—or their kids—to forget. From 1998 to 2001, Bryan worked as a caddie at Augusta National. We were newlyweds then, and while it was a sacrifice to say yes to that season, I’m forever glad we did. It was a magical chapter, and he loved every minute of it. Some stories came from inside the ropes, others from the clubhouse whispers passed down by members decades his senior. I’ve heard them all, and somehow, they never get old.

If this is your first post this week—welcome! Thursday’s blog will feature a quirky guide to our town during Masters Week. Friday’s post will circle back to Bryan with a more personal reflection on fatherhood, golf, and legacy. You’re not going to want to miss what’s still to come. Stay tuned, and come back each day. 💚

The Rumor Was…

Let’s start with a little Augusta lore, because what would a caddie story be without a dash of scandal and a whisper of legend?

The rumor was that when Augusta National first opened, there were “family memberships.” One day, a woman told her husband another female member had a hole-in-one on hole No. 8. Her husband balked—”That’s a par 5, uphill! No way!” But she insisted. “I saw it! She was on the No. 9 tee box, and the ball went straight into the No. 8 hole.”

The next day, the husband told the story to Clifford Roberts himself, who allegedly muttered, “I should’ve never let the women in.”

Family memberships? Cancelled.

Women weren’t members again until 2012, when Condoleezza Rice and Darla Moore were invited to join. Moore, a South Carolina financier, had earned a fierce reputation on Wall Street and was famously nicknamed “The Toughest Babe in Business.”

Willie “Cemetery” Perteet: A Resurrection Story

Cemetery got his nickname the hard way. According to the legend passed around the caddie house, he was caught fooling around with someone’s wife. Walking home through the cemetery between the course and his house, he was attacked and left for dead. So convincingly dead, in fact, he was taken to the morgue.

Where he woke up.

Hence: Cemetery.

He became President Eisenhower’s personal caddie. One year, the day before Opening Day, Eisenhower asked Cemetery if he’d ever been to a Major League Baseball game. When he said no, the president told him to bring a suit the next morning.

After the front nine, Cemetery changed into his suit, met Eisenhower, and boarded Air Force One. They flew to D.C., where Cemetery sat directly behind home plate to watch the president throw out the first pitch at a Senators game. Eisenhower checked in afterward: “How’d you like that?”

“I loved it,” Cemetery replied.

“Good,” the president said. “Let’s go.”

They flew back to Augusta and had time to play the back nine before dark.

Clint Eastwood, a Soggy 13th, and a Classic One-Liner

Clint Eastwood wasn’t a member, but he frequently came in with California members—likely tied to the Pebble Beach crew. One day, Bryan was caddying in the group ahead of Eastwood when Clint hit one into the water on No. 13.

Bryan, without missing a beat: “I don’t think that made his day.”

Transfusion Magic: The Drink That Saved No. 8

Grape juice, ginger ale, and ice. That’s the caddie-favorite drink known as a “Transfusion.”

Created by local doctors and offered on the cart at the turn, it was designed to give caddies and golfers a little boost on that second loop—especially when you’re dragging yourself up No. 8 in the Georgia heat. Bryan swore by its regenerating powers.

The Caddie House: $3 Chicken Strips and Big Dreams

Bland room. World-class food.

The caddie house used the same chefs from the clubhouse. You could get a bowl of soup for 50 cents and a very good chicken strip plate for $3.

If you didn’t have a scheduled bag, you showed up by 7 a.m. for the walk-in lottery. Bryan worked there from 1998–2001. The course was open October through May, with limited play in the cold months and fully closed May through October.

Local members often played the par 3 course and a loop of 18, but others went harder. One Texan member played 54 holes a day. First one on, last one off. His caddie, nicknamed “Po Baby,” was legendary for surviving those marathon weeks—and even stood his ground once in a shouting match with the caddie master. Spoiler: Po Baby won.

The Day a Tree Vanished

Right before Masters Week one year, a huge pine tree on hole No. 10 snapped and fell on the green. David Duval was on the hole when it happened. Bryan was on hole No. 8. By the time Bryan’s group reached hole No. 10—less than 30 minutes later—the tree had been cut, cleared, and stacked.

No trace. Like it never happened. Only at Augusta.

Caddie Day: Augusta’s Feral Holiday

One of the best perks of being a local caddie? Caddie Day on the last Monday in May.

To qualify, you needed at least 10 loops between the Masters and closing. If you made the cut, you got:

• Free food (hello, Edmunds BBQ)
• Discounted merch (what was left)
• Access to the course all day with a golf cart

It’s a frenzy of joy. Caddies scattered like kids at recess, finding open holes like a shotgun start. Bryan described it as “feral”—and glorious.

1999: Played 45 holes on the big course. Parred No. 12 three times. Made it through 1.5 loops of the par 3 before getting kicked off for darkness. No pics, but pure magic.

2000: Just three weeks after flipping his car (and not yet realizing his wife was pregnant), Bryan showed up with broken ribs and played 36 holes. Shot 84 and 82. Played 9 on the par 3. Bought a $79 7-wood specifically for hole No. 4 and hit it to within 12 feet and then 8 feet. Still uses it. Their oldest son wants to steal it.

Photos were taken that year. They’re getting framed.

Favorite Things: The Walk, The View

Bryan’s favorite part of caddying? Walking across the bridge on hole 12.

“Never got old. It was special every single time.”

The two most beautiful holes on the property, in his opinion? Nos. 8 and 9 on the par 3 course. Not flashy. Just perfect.

And while every loop had its charm, he said the best part of the job was helping people live out a dream.

“All the guests were like kids in a candy store. It was usually a day of people living out a dream—and I got to help that.”

Greenside Wisdom: The Augusta Break Rule

Every caddie at Augusta knows the rule:
“The ball always breaks toward Rae’s Creek.”

Except on No. 7. That was the exception. Always has been.

How much it breaks? That’s another story. That part’s an art—and a little bit of mystery. But every seasoned loop knew to factor in that subtle pull, like the whole course had a heartbeat humming toward Rae’s.

The Two Worst Bags

Bryan says if either of these had been his first loop, he might’ve quit:

1. The Local Member: Infamous for firing caddies on hole No. 1. Picky, intense, and exhausting. Bryan survived the round—but only barely.
2. The Executive’s Daughter: A very good golfer, but blamed Bryan for every missed putt. So bad, other caddies stepped in to help read greens—and got blamed too. At the end? She gave Bryan a big hug and thanked him for a great day. No one understood.

Bryan’s Favorite Shot Ever

From the members’ tees on hole No. 10:

“My drive was even with the fairway bunker on the left. I had 110 into the green off the tee with a 3-wood. Hit the perfect spot on the slope, and it took off.”

A dream shot, perfectly executed.

Where the Stories Come From

Most of the Augusta lore Bryan knows didn’t come from coworkers, but from local members from the 1950s who loved to tell stories. They were living archives of Augusta’s golden age.

One of Bryan’s regular loops was a retired local doctor who loved to talk. His favorite story? A member tournament where he hit a hole-in-one on No. 6 and walked away with prize money.

Unfortunately, the celebration that followed? The liquor bill was $1,000 more than the winnings.

Before the tournament, he especially loved showing off to his own guests. One of his favorite tricks was to demonstrate how easy it was to putt right off the green on No. 1 if your speed was off. He got a kick out of sharing what he knew—and showing people just how tricky Augusta can be.

While Bryan wasn’t much of an Arkansas football fan, he was still impressed when he caddied for a former Razorbacks coach or athletic director named Frank-something. Even without the fandom, it was clear the guy had presence.

You can have your green jackets and TV towers. I’ll take the stories from the caddie house—where the food was cheap, the friendships were real, and every loop was a chance to be part of something legendary.

💭 “And just when you thought that was the end of Bryan’s Augusta stories… come back Friday. We’re trading the one-liners and caddie lore for something a little closer to the heart—about fathers, sons, and how a love of golf can link three generations. You won’t want to miss it.”

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