The passing of Jimmy Buffett last week brought to mind some wonderful memories regarding Mr. Margaritaville in regard to the place we call home.

If you weren’t around here in the late 80’s/early 90’s, you couldn’t know that Buffett spent more than a good amount of time here in Thomas County. An avid sportsman, he knew all too well the international reputation of our county as the epicenter of American quail hunting.

So what did Jimmy Buffett do? He visited here often enough to hunt that he fell in love with Thomas County, and eventually leased an entire plantation down below Springhill Road toward the Florida line and Beachton so he could hunt and enjoy our peace and quiet all he wanted to (it also had an airstrip so he could fly in and out).

And as a result, for a while he became somewhat of a regular — and mostly unnoticed — part of our community.

There was a great barbecue place down in Beachton, right there on the left of the big curve on the way to Tallahassee called “JB’s Barbecue” in Beachton. A classic BBQ joint that started out in a single-wide trailer off the highway and became so successful that it grew into a really nice place, Buffett ate there so much a lot of folks began wondering if the “JB” in the name was his initials (they weren’t — the owner of the place just happened to have the same initials). He ate there so much, In fact, that they put in a helicopter landing pad out behind the place so he could fly in and eat any time.

We were living in Tallahassee at the time, and I was working at a radio station (WLOR, “Land of Roses Radio”) here on the southside of Thomasville. I would stop at JB’s frequently to either sit and eat or grab something to take home. I saw Buffett eating there several times over the years, normally by himself. But not once did I ever see anyone bother him.

Believe it or not, it was nothing to see Buffett out and about around Thomasville, especially during the fall months. He frequented The Plaza Restaurant, preferring either chicken & dumplings or their signature Greek chicken. He drove a black Land Rover, and you’d see it scooting through town during hunting season. Heck, I was even told that he stopped in a couple of our local dives and played a song or two along the way. Though I have no way to confirm that, knowing the kind of guy Jimmy was, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit.

According to people who knew him, Buffett was perfectly comfortable just being ‘a regular guy’ in Thomasville because nobody bothered him. Remember now, this was just before the internet existed, so there was no way for someone to see him, think ‘hey, I think I recognize that guy’, pull their phone out and do a Google image search. Here he could blend in for the most part because folks either didn’t recognize him, he simply looked like a local, or most who did recognize him were too considerate of his space and privacy to bother him.

Over the years, life changed and Buffett’s presence here diminished, although every now and then someone would mention seeing him.

I don’t know why Buffett’s passing hit so many of us in the gut so hard. Maybe it’s because he seemed so full of playfulness and vigor, a carefree, fun-loving soul who took the term ‘beach bum’ and made it sound like a lifestyle we all wanted a piece of. Or maybe it’s just because another source of joy from all of our lives has again been taken away far too soon.

Either way, there’s no doubt Jimmy Buffett changed the way all of us look at the beach and the margaritas that now seem like a pairing that God himself ordained through Buffett’s songs. He was one of a kind, but at the very least we have those songs and his sageish, smile-filled lyrics to remember and celebrate him.

Anyone who knows Jimmy Buffett songs knows he often sang about pink crustaceans and other ocean critters. I heard that earlier this year University of Miami scientists named a new species of marine isopod discovered in the Florida Keys after him — “Gnathia jimmybuffetti”. I read that he once wrote: “Most humans are said to be composed 90% of water, but for those of us who grew up on the Gulf of Mexico, I think that other 10% must be shrimp.” Anyone from around here can absolutely relate to those words. I just felt like those of you who didn’t know how connected he was to the place you call home needed to know about it. I’ll leave you with these, his own words:

“Grief is like the wake behind a boat. It starts out as a huge wave that follows close behind you and is big enough to swamp and drown you if you suddenly stop moving forward. But if you do keep moving, the big wake will eventually dissipate. and after a long time, the waters of your life get calm again, and that is when the memories of those who have left begin to shine as bright and as enduring as the stars above.”