James William Poag Jr.

Jimmy Poag, a devoted husband, father, grandfather, and friend, passed away on June 2, 2026 in Lexington, South Carolina. He was a man of quiet strength and generous spirit — one whose impact on his community, his family, and everyone fortunate enough to know him will be felt for years to come.

Born on January 11, 1948, Jimmy built a life guided by a deep sense of purpose and an unwavering commitment to doing right by others. After earning his Juris Doctor degree from the University of South Carolina School of Law in Columbia, South Carolina in 1974, he dedicated 44 years to the practice of family law. More than an attorney, Jimmy was a trusted guide for thousands of families navigating life's most difficult chapters — he approached every case with care, patience, and a genuine desire to help. His legacy in the courtroom is measured not in verdicts, but in the lives he helped steady.

Outside the office, Jimmy found joy in the outdoors and embraced life with the curiosity of a true adventurer. He was an avid golfer who relished time on the course with friends and family, and loved attending tournaments nearly as much as playing in them. He found peace at the beach and wonder in the mountains, and his travels abroad gave him a broad and generous view of the world. A devoted history buff, he approached the past with the same sharp and inquisitive mind he brought to his work.

Jimmy was also a craftsman in the truest sense — a man who loved working with his hands. His stained glass pieces, created with patience and artistry, are a lasting testament to the care and attention he poured into everything he made.

Jimmy is survived by his beloved wife, Ruth Poag; his sons, Cable and Joshua; and his stepchildren, Isaac and Heather. He leaves behind six grandchildren who filled his life with laughter and love: Will, Gabriel, Anne, Sophia, William, and Ari. He is also survived by his siblings, Missy Atkins and Jeffery Poag, and by numerous nieces and nephews who carry his memory with great fondness. He was predeceased by his parents, James William Poag Sr. and Mary Brickle Poag.

Jimmy Poag lived generously and fully. He gave his time, his talent, and his heart — to his family, to his clients, and to the community he called home. Those who knew him carry forward not only his memory, but the example he set: that a life well lived is one given in service to others.

A memorial service for Jimmy will be held on Sunday, June, 14, 2026 at 2:00 pm at Lexington Baptist Church Chapel, 308 East Main Street, Lexington, SC 29072. Immediately following the service there will be a drop in at the house, 346 Palmer Drive, Lexington, SC.

In Loving Memory of Jimmy Poag

A man of wit, warmth, and unwavering love for the people in his life.

To know Jimmy Poag was to be made immediately comfortable in his presence. He had a way of filling a room — not with noise, but with ease. Quick-witted and sharp-minded, gentle in manner and generous with his time, Jimmy was the kind of man who left every person he encountered feeling a little more seen, a little more at home, and very often, a little more amused. He was a lawyer, a golfer, a dancer, a devoted husband, a cherished friend, a loving father, and a grandfather who made breakfast to order. But above all, Jimmy Poag was simply good company — and the world is quieter without him.

Family: A Brother Like No Other

As his sister Missy, she will always treasure the memories they made together as a family. Growing up and well into their adult years, the two families made a tradition of going places together: the beaches of South Carolina or Florida, the mountains of Georgia and North Carolina.

Jimmy’s love of golf ran deep, and some of his finest moments on a course came alongside Michele’s husband Andy. The two played together as often as they could. But the round that stands apart from all the others came when the families traveled to Scotland — and Jimmy and Andy teed off on the Old Course at St. Andrews. They had their picture taken on the Swilcan Bridge at the 18th hole, the same stone arch that has felt the footsteps of the true greats of the game.

They also shared a love for South Carolina Gamecock football. After Missy's family moved to Florida, they made it a tradition to watch the games together from miles apart. Those calls, conversations, and moments cheering on their team kept them connected and became memories she will always cherish.

Jimmy’s son Joshua reflects. Jimmy was a proud South Carolina alum, he loved the Gamecocks with a passion, and no matter how many losses the football team had, in his eyes, beating Clemson made it a successful season.

Jeff the baby brother of Jimmy, who has Jimmy to thank for one of the most vivid memories of his young life. When Jeff bought his first car — a 1969 Ford Custom with a three-speed manual — he didn’t yet know how to drive it. Without hesitation, Jimmy drove it home down Main Street through Lexington, then patiently taught Jeff until the day he could take the wheel himself. “Thanks to Jimmy,” Jeff says, “he gave up his time to give me a great memory. I will never forget it.”

A Life Among Friends

Jimmy’s friendships were lasting and deeply felt. Eddie, a colleague and friend for the entirety of his legal career, remembers the generosity Jimmy offered without fanfare — sharing his office for two years while Eddie’s space was being built, and capping long workdays with dinner at the steakhouse downtown, laughing long into the evening. “It was always a blast,” Eddie recalls, and that phrase captures something essential about Jimmy’s company: it always was.

Scott, another dear friend, speaks of Jimmy’s gentle way and his readiness to help — whether walking the fairways together or guiding friends through legal matters like closing on a home. “I feel fortunate to have called Jimmy Poag my friend,” Scott says. That fortune was widely shared.

Al goes back even further, to June 6, 1970, when Jimmy stood as a groomsman at his wedding. He remembers Jimmy alongside Charles Campbell and Larry Berry — a group that, when assembled, could laugh until they cried. “He was just a fine fellow,” Al says, “and just as smart as he was funny.” Al raises a toast today: “Here’s to Jimmy — ’til we meet again.”

Tal remembers a small, perfect Jimmy ritual: whenever they said goodbye, Jimmy would look Heather in the eyes and say, “I love you.” Then he’d turn to Tal, with that unmistakable smirk, and say, “Tal, I just like you.”

“Well,” Tal says, “I love you, Jimmy — with all my heart.”

The Prankster and the Man of Joy

Jimmy’s humor was not merely a personality trait — it was a calling. He committed to a bit with the full dedication of a man who understood that laughter is one of life’s most generous gifts. His signature move: feigning a heart attack, clutching his chest dramatically, and trust-falling with complete conviction onto the nearest willing — or unsuspecting — person. The fact that Jimmy had already survived a quadruple bypass and dealt with clogged carotid arteries only added to the performance. He knew his audience. He knew the bit. He committed every time.

Isaac recalls a Christmas Eve that no one in the family will ever forget. The game was hide-and-seek, and Contessa was “it.” She made her way to the laundry room, spotted a figure buried under a pile of dirty clothes, and assumed it was one of the grandchildren. Then Jimmy — fully grown, completely committed — erupted from the pile. Contessa screamed. Everyone else dissolved. That was Jimmy: never too dignified to be delightful.

Heather, who lovingly called Jimmy her “other mother,” credits him with one of the most valuable lessons she carries: don’t take life too seriously. She picked up on his humor, his lightness, his ability to find the comic thread in any moment. Whether they were freezing together on the golf course, driving to piano lessons, or singing along to the Beach Boys, the Beatles, and ABBA — it was always an adventure with Jimmy.

The Man You Could Count On

Jimmy’s kindness was not the showy kind. It was the kind that shows up — literally. He drove Jeff home in a car he couldn’t drive himself. He kept Eddie’s practice running during a difficult transition. He helped Scott navigate legal milestones. He drove Heather to every piano lesson and spent hours beside her on the golf course, patient and present, even in the cold. Hadas and Gidi, who were welcomed warmly into his extended family, remember his ability to make everyone feel appreciated at every gathering — punctuated by a perfectly timed line like, “Thank God for such an easy-to-deal-with in-law.”

Patty describes him simply and exactly: spoken, quick-witted, intelligent, funny, caring. A lover of adventure. A keen observer. Polite. A gentleman. A man of faith. A man who cherished family time. There is not a word of that description that anyone who knew him would dispute.

Whether it was boogie boarding in the surf, playing renown golf courses, soaking up the local culture while traveling abroad, or taking a picture of a sunset, he always took time to stop and smell the roses, and enjoyed life in a way everyone should aspire to. With love from Joshua.

A Dog Named Ginger

Then there is the story of Ginger — and it says everything about Jimmy.

Ruth was preparing to move the family from Cayce to Lexington, South Carolina, and hadn’t yet told Heather. Jimmy, being Jimmy, chose to deliver the news on the final hole of a golf tournament. When Heather broke down — grieving the friends she’d leave behind — Jimmy listened. And without a moment’s hesitation, he promised her a dog. When Heather came home and announced it, Ruth was equal parts exasperated and unsurprised. “How could you promise her a dog?” she asked. But the promise was made, and into their lives came Ginger.

Officially, the dog was for Heather. In practice, she was Jimmy’s. He lay on the floor near the fireplace for hours with her. He counted out pepperonis one by one. He delivered single-serving bags of Doritos and Cheetos as afternoon snacks. He got on his hands and knees each morning to coax her out of her crate, calling her “sugar dog.” Even in her old age, when Ginger would no longer sit with anyone else, she always settled in beside Jimmy. They were inseparable until the end. Both of them passed this year. And Ruth believes — and those who knew Jimmy believe too — that Ginger was waiting for him at the entrance.

The Grandchildren

Jimmy loved his grandchildren with uncomplicated, wholehearted joy. He watched scary movies and played football with Will and Gabriel. He sat on the floor for dolls and Play-Doh with Anne and Sophia. And every time the grandchildren were around, he took their breakfast orders with the gravity of a short-order cook who understood that getting breakfast right was a matter of great importance. They held a special place in his heart, and a smile always followed in their wake.

What Love Looks Like

Ashley Atkins, Jimmy's great-niece, holds a memory from Nana and Pop's house that has never left her. One afternoon the family was gathered by the pool — grilling, spending time together — and it was one of the first times Aunt Ruth had come down to visit. Ashley looked up, stopped, and stared in disbelief. Without warning, Uncle Jimmy launched himself into a cannonball.

Even at a young age, Ashley knew exactly what she was seeing. This was a different Jimmy — carefree, happy, truly enjoying himself. And she understood, with the quiet certainty of a child who pays close attention, that Ruth was the reason. “I knew what I was witnessing was love,” Ashley says.

That memory has stayed with her all these years — not just for the laugh it carries, but for what it revealed: what love can bring out in a person, and the gift of family moments that never let go. The joy he found, the love he shared, and that unforgettable cannonball will stay with her forever.

My Love, My Life

And then there is Ruth.

Ruth and Jimmy did almost everything together. The beaches and the mountains. Travels abroad. Rounds of golf. Dancing into the morning hours. Theirs was a partnership in the fullest sense — not just husband and wife, but best friends in the truest way that phrase can be meant. “I not only lost my husband,” Ruth says, “but my best friend. He will live forever in my heart.”

Jimmy Poag was spoken, quick-witted, intelligent, funny, caring — a gentleman and a man of faith.

He loved Ruth. He loved his family. He loved Ginger. He loved a good laugh and a long round of golf.

As Michele put it: he will be remembered by the way he lived and loved, leaving behind many sweet, funny memories that will live on in the hearts of others.