They called him the human forklift. He used his strength to make Hilton Head better. | Opinion
Tom Peeples was one of us.
By “us” I mean the working blokes of Hilton Head Island, where Peeples was mayor for 15 of his 21 years on Town Council, stepping down in 2010.
It was stunning to hear that he died April 20 a week after having back surgery. He was only 71.
His last public appearance was April 6 at the funeral of original Town Council member Henry Driessen. Like Driessen and a dwindling number of others, Peeples was true Lowcountry. He was born, bred and ingrained in a place of beauty, poverty and promise that he learned through life, not a brochure.
He was reared in Ridgeland, where Tommie and Sadie Peeples ran a department store. His father knew every soul on Hilton Head before there was a bridge, selling ointments and pots and pans and wigs door to door in a Model A.
As children, the Peeples boys cut grass to make money, emulating a father who worked until the day he died — ruthlessly killed for a pittance of cash while selling goods door-to-door near Hardeeville.
When Tom and Mary Ann Peeples moved to Hilton Head in 1972, he was the “the forklift” for a builder and then a carpenter until opening his own company that built 500 custom homes before Peeples closed shop in 2018.
The Peeples boys were built like Buddha and known for playing football. Tom’s lifelong friend Roy Prescott said, “He played hard, always defending the line.
“That kind of describes his life,” Prescott said. “He stood up for what he thought was right, always in the trenches, always guarding the line.”
Peeples stood up for us when the mayor said we didn’t need ball fields, and we could teach our kids to sail.
“This is crazy,” he said at a large public forum on the island’s future. “What about those of us trying to make a living and raise a family here? You’re just not taking into account those of us who grew up here. You’ve been here two years and you’re telling us, basically, to hell with you.”
Like Peeples, I count it a blessing to have reared a family and contributed my life’s work here. Workers didn’t see it as an either/or island: Either burn the bridge or turn it into Manhattan. We could build and grow responsibly. The island could be special and beautiful and still feed and educate our children.
We could love it with all our hearts, and fight for it like a pulling guard. Peeples did that.
Some worried about the boy from Ridgeland who was plenty smart but too busy or too poor for college running the show on an island full of FIPs (formerly important people). Maybe we “ort” to not have a mayor who said “ort” instead of ought.
But Peeples turned out to be a statesman. He listened to people. He worked the room. He counted votes. He stayed focused. He insisted on action.
He brought people together to get a lot done, the highlight being the town’s purchase of the 70-acre Honey Horn tract, where a celebration of this most unlikely leader’s life will take place from 4 to 7 p.m. Tuesday in the Mary Ann Peeples Pavilion.
Tom and Mary Ann Peeples found love to a degree that few do. She was 17 when they married, and they were inseparable for 45 years. My heart bleeds for Mary Ann. I’m thankful their son, Josh, had recently moved home from California to be near them.
I can’t help but think of them together the night Peeples was roasted at the Native Islander Gullah Celebration. His friend Sonny Huntley argued that Peeples thought he was supernatural: He came here as a carpenter, his favorite drink was Crown Royal, and everybody knows he married a queen.
Peeples didn’t try to say much that night, his voice quivering. “I’m a pretty emotional guy — it’s one of my downsides, frankly,” he said.
But I’m seeing his last words that night as an epitaph for the mayor who was one of us: “I was just thinking, my dad would be really proud.”
David Lauderdale may be reached at LauderdaleColumn@gmail.com.
