James R. Wallace III departed this earthly world on March 31. It was Holy Tuesday, a beautiful day. Roses were blooming, bees darted through clover blossoms in the front yard, and a mama wren that had built a nest in the alcove by the front door perched on the iron railing, singing. In the kitchen, Jim was making a cup of coffee when his big heart gave out. He was 82 and had lived a good life.

Jim was born Jan. 3, 1944, in Mobile, Alabama. His father was overseas, serving in World War II. His mother bundled up her newborn and traveled to her family home in Madison, Wisconsin, where they stayed until the end of the war. When they arrived, Grandma Affholder sprang into action, taking the baby from her young daughter. “Tony, go milk the cow,” she said to Grandpa. With his father in the Army, Jim spent his childhood moving from place to place—Alaska, California, Colorado, Florida, Washington and even Japan and Taiwan. He thrived everywhere he lived, but the vacations and summers in Wisconsin, working on dairy farm, held a special place in his heart.

Jim attended St. John’s Military Academy in Wisconsin before graduating from high school in Jackson, Alabama, and attending Auburn. He was cruising through campus in his yellow convertible Pontiac GTO with a buddy when he spotted a cute coed in front of Dorm 8. They later married and had three daughters.

Jim worked in the plastics manufacturing industry. In 1976, he went to work for Southeastern Kusan and settled in the Greenville, South Carolina, area. He taught his daughters to swim, ride bikes, water-ski, and enjoy the outdoors. In the late 1970s, he caught a 303-pound Warsaw grouper off the coast of Florida. According to family lore, the catch broke a 20-year record, only to be beaten six months later.

Jim ran marathons and rode bicycles across the country several times. One summer, he rode from Seaside, Oregon, to St. Augustine, Florida—from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic. After retiring, he moved to Charleston, South Carolina, where he was, for a time, part owner of Charleston Bike Taxi.

Jim liked to read, watch birds, eat sushi and play bocce on the beach with his family. He excelled in the art of jury-rigging and could do wonders with a roll of duct tape and a bag of zip ties. Disney movies made him cry. He loved babies and puppies, the color yellow and being a grandfather. He was a big man with a big heart who never met a stranger.

He was preceded in death by his father, James R. Wallace; his mother, Marijane Affholder Wallace Wilcox; and a very nervous rat terrier named Scooter. 

He is survived by his daughters, Jennifer Wallace, Anne Wallace (Tim Baker) and Caroline Wallace; his grandsons, Jack and BakerWallace; and his sister, Jan Wallace Johnson (Lester).

A memorial service will be held at 10 a.m., May 1, at First (Scots) Presbyterian Church in Charleston, South Carolina