By Terry Ward – Former West Columbia Mayor Bobby Horton was a neighbor and a friend.

I watched as he was wheeled into an ambulance from his home on Saturday, June 24. It was the last time I talked to him. Less than a week later, on Thursday, June 29, he passed away. But there are so many memories left. 

When my family moved to Cardinal Drive in West Columbia, we introduced ourselves to Bobby Horton. He lived on Redbird Drive, across from our back door. Upon meeting him in 2010, there was no waiting for him to see what kind of people we were. He was immediately friendly. And we were impressed, especially my four-year-old son, Henry, when we found out Mr. Bobby was also the Mayor of West Columbia. But the Mayor never acted like a man of standing.

Bobby Horton was warm and disarming. He was kind and endlessly inviting. At his life celebration ceremony, Thursday, Brookland Baptist Rev. Charles Jackson, and West Columbia Mayor Tem Miles talked about the Mayor’s dedication, service and sense of obligation. Jackson and Miles were very kind. The Mayor bragged on them too, as he did all of his friends.  He loved the leaders of West Columbia. The Mayor was also proud of City Administrator Brian Carter. Former Councilman Tommy Parler is a neighbor and also a confidant of the Mayor’s. 

The Mayor was gracious. There is a creek, part of the Double Branch, that runs through his back yard. While others fretted over liability, the Mayor told my three sons (Wilson and Jackson are the other two) they could go through his back yard to play in that creek any time they wanted. He knew boys liked to chase snakes, trap minnows and cool off on the hot summer days. And as mayor, he was always respectful and let citizens talk, even if they went over time. 

Another thing the Mayor liked to do was mix Old Forester bourbon with coke and wax eloquently.  I spent hours sitting on his couch, with my wife, Lana, listening to him tell about powerful state political figures, and what took place behind the scenes. For the sake of discretion, I won’t divulge the details here, but I told him he should write a book about his time as a government liaison for SCE&G. 

Sometimes the Mayor would use a colorful word while recounting a tale from his State House days and his late wife, Kay, would exclaim “Bobby” in disbelief that he would use such language. 

We also got to know about the Mayor’s family. We knew about his daughter, Lynn’s, high-profile career in financial accounting in Charleston. The Mayor was also intently attentive to his son, Chris, who suffered a stroke in his early 50s. The Mayor had two granddaughters, Margaret and Lindsay, and we knew every time something good happened in their lives, because he always shared it, proudly. And he had a lot of respect for his brother, Heyward, a Baptist preacher. 

What do I do now that the Mayor is no longer here? 

I will certainly miss looking into his window, to see if he is sitting in his chair, so we could go over to visit. I’ll miss the Sunday afternoons, watching the golf tournament on his TV, while the Mayor told me of the many golf courses he played. If he’d played a course that was on the pro tour, he’d tell you the holes that he most remembered about that course. He also reminisced about his many trips to the Masters.

He once told us about his golf partner who lost his temper after a series of bad shots and threw his clubs, shoes and clothes into the pond. He told Henry, a fellow golfer, to always be a gentleman on the course, and never act like his former golf partner. 

And Henry would listen because he knew the Mayor cared about us. He had years of Christmas cards on his refrigerator, each one showing our family growing up. We were his friends and that meant a lot.

There are era-markers in our lives. The Mayor’s death is a marker. For me and my family, our home will not be the same. His passing leaves a sad void. But we’ll always remember the years when we were young, and when we thought he’d be here forever.  Photos from Thursday’s service are below