A daughter remembers her dad Tom Payne

Remembrance of Tom Payne’s life will be at 3 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 16, at his home along Lighthouse Road.

By Maddie Payne

Islander Thomas O. Payne,74, passed away Sept. 21, 2024.

Born Sept. 23, 1949, in Alexandria, VA, he was a son of Parke and Martha Payne. He is survived by his three children, Tucker, Hadley and Madeleine, sisters Cathy, Becky, and brother Ned.

I’ve struggled a lot trying to put this together, how to consolidate one of the most interesting humans I’ve known into a brief newspaper article. This won’t be an ordinary obituary, but he wasn’t an ordinary man.

He was raised in McLean, Virginia, and then continued his education at Colorado State University.

I was told stories of jumping off balconies into feet high snowbanks and skiing down the mountain to work, only to have these tall tales confirmed when I myself moved to Colorado and met some of his college friends.

He studied forestry, and though he didn’t finish college, I feel confident saying he carried that love through his whole life.

I can’t count how many hours we spent in the woods together, with him pointing out every tree and flower we passed. I learned where to find morels and where to avoid snakes, how to cover chigger bites with mud and how to find the best camp spot. 

He got his pilot’s license at 24 which he used to see what he could, especially South America, though I’m afraid the statute of limitations keeps me from continuing with that story.

Traveling was something he inspired in all his kids, wanting us to see the world and experience life.

He loved meeting new people, trying new things, bringing back new stories, New Zealand being one of his favorite places to visit.

Seeing as he couldn’t move the whole family to New Zealand, he settled with his second favorite, Ocracoke. He and my mom honeymooned here; we spent every summer here, and some Christmas vacations, too, before we moved in 2002.

He loved this island, so much so that when I asked why we didn’t go on vacations anymore he replied, “because we’re already here.”

My dad, “Tpayne” as I liked to call him, was an enigma, a man of many nicknames and even more stories.

As I sort through his life, I have found more friends, memories and jokes than I ever thought possible.

Thanks to him I know how to successfully pick a crab, how to find the best bar, when to pick a green bean and where to find clams.

The Woodstock attendee may not have been perfect, but who of us are? He knew how to enjoy life and showed me so many of the things I love in this world.

I will take his memory and carry it with me. I will remember him when I smell sawdust or Old Bay, but most of all I will remember him when I laugh or tell a good story.

We will be celebrating his life at 3 p.m. on Nov. 16, drinks, music and your best paint-stained clothing, one last “Tompound” party (on Lighthouse Road).