The Humble Life of Buddy Brown

It’s totally reflexive. I can’t control it.

No longer can I cross the eastern Oak Island bridge -- Now the G.V. Barbee, Sr. Bridge -- from the mainland without casting my eyes to the south, down the bank of the Intracoastal Waterway, in hopes of catching one last glimpse of Buddy Brown and the humble, ramshackle home he shared with good wife, Ms. Emma.

Many of you with longtime ties to Southport and Oak Island will remember the couple and the home they kept literally under the bridge on the Oak Island side of the waterway. The Brown home and the old Ocean Ole’ service station was removed some years ago to make way for the complex that now houses Doodle’s mini-mart and Nay-Nay’s restaurant.

My good friend Tommy Robbins recently posted this picture of Buddy Brown on social media. His posting brought forth a mighty response from longtime Southport-Oak Island residents who, to a person, remembered Buddy and Ms. Emma fondly. Many of the men responding remembered how Buddy had taught them to fish and to respect and cherish the Oak Island environment. Ms. Emma was recalled as a gracious, good housekeeper who welcomed all to her humble home. Many responded to the post with stories of their personal encounters with Buddy and his bride.

As you might suspect, I have a Buddy Brown story of my own. It was March, 1982, and I was in the middle of my first week as the new staff writer for TheState Port Pilot, the area’s excellent weekly newspaper.

“You’ve got to get over there by two o’clock,” my source at the Brunswick County Government Center shouted in to the phone.  

“There” happened to be the Buddy Brown home where a love struck tourist couple from West Virginia had, on the spur of the moment, decided to tie the knot in Buddy’s front yard.

It turned out to be a festive occasion. Magistrate Phil Yount officiated. Seated Register of Deeds Robert Robinson was best man. Several other local political officials took the work-week afternoon off to attend. Buddy stood up for the couple and described the new bride as “A real firecracker.”

After the ceremony the wedding party and guests retired to the front door of the Brown home where the refrigerator had been mightily stocked with Miller Highlife beer by some anonymous benefactor. Buddy loved his beer, by the way.

I returned to the newspaper office and wrote of the affair as if it were a contributed wedding announcement. “The bride was attired in cut-off denim shorts with cotton tee shirt bearing the inscription ‘Sun Your Buns at Long Beach' on the bodice.” The piece was well received by Pilot readers and helped ease me into my new job.

I’m not sure when Ms. Emma passed, but she went on to her reward sometime before I arrived in Southport and Oak Island in 1980. Buddy lived on alone in his home by the waterway for years and spent his final days as a happy resident of Ocean Trail Convalescent Center in Southport where staff trimmed his untamed beard, occasionally took him fishing at the SouthportCity Pier, and allowed him a solitary beer each night with his dinner. There he passed peacefully, no doubt with memories of a simple and humble Oak Island life lived-well with a keen respect for nature and a love of fellow man.

Shameless real estate pitch: If you would like a ramshackle home by the Intracoastal Waterway, a modest home in the Oak Island woods, or a mansion on the oceanfront, why not give me a call at Atlantic Realty Professionals. I can help. I can be reached by mobile phone at 910-619-7207 or by email here. See my company profile.