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Goodbye to Pastor Beatty at First Baptist Church

September 26, 2024
By Garland Pollard
This Sunday, Pastor Gary Beatty will preach his last message at First Baptist Church in Boca Grande. Beatty announced his retirement last Sunday. “God’s been good to me,” said Beatty. “The island’s been good to me. People have been good to me.” He came to the church in 2000. His wife Betty knew from the […]

This Sunday, Pastor Gary Beatty will preach his last message at First Baptist Church in Boca Grande. Beatty announced his retirement last Sunday.

“God’s been good to me,” said Beatty. “The island’s been good to me. People have been good to me.”

He came to the church in 2000. His wife Betty knew from the first moment that this was the right place. He calls his partner in ministry his helpmate, a word from the King James Genesis. “My wife spoke out and said ‘I know God wants you here’.”

It was not easy at first, as other candidates had asked for particular salaries.

“When I came here they had 12 people and they couldn’t even pay me $50 a week. I had to take it strictly by faith,” Beatty said. “I set up my little desk and I spread the bills out and remind God, and said I can’t pay these. I need you to send me some good people.”

Over his term, many have helped keep the church open.

The late Carl Lindner Jr., was a billionaire who owned United Fruit and a chain of dairy stores, as well as stepping in to buy the Cincinnati Reds from Marge Schott. Lindner stepped in for First Baptist, too, after Beatty wrote him a letter telling him of the situation. “If you can help me financially, me and the Lord will get this church back on its feet,” wrote Beatty, in a handwritten entreaty. “I am asking you for two reasons. One is you are a brother in Christ. And another, we are fellow Buckeyes. Every year he would help me with this or that.”

Beatty believes the wealth on the island creates a different dynamic, but it is the people that make the church. Even during Ian, the wider community of non-Baptist Christians helped to ensure the viability of the church.

“I respect what money can do,” said Beatty. “But I respect even more what money can do when the heart’s with it.”

Pastor Beatty and wife Betty in 2022. Beacon Archives

He will soon be 84. In 2022, he celebrated 50 years in ministry. “We were planning on retiring just before Ian. I prayed to God, if you get me through this, you will keep me going.”

Part of being on the island has meant stepping up for causes. He fought for The Island School, when some thought it was not necessary. He recalls heading to Fort Myers to win over the county. “Way back when we had to fight to save The Island School. I was the only pastor that stepped up. I went down to the commissioner meetings in Fort Myers. I said to ‘em, ‘Fellas, I have been to many a commissioner or councilor meeting over pornography and bars, but this is the first time I have ever had to come and fight for little children to have a school that they want to get rid of to have tennis courts.’”

The school won.

While here, the campus on the island’s Church Row has also been a focus; the small garden a bit of Eden open to all who visit. Beatty put the church on the National Register of Historic Places. He felt it would help protect the rebuilding of the church, which sits on the island’s Gilchrist Avenue.

The members of the church have included so many locals, and even the Mainers and Jamaicans who have attended faithfully while they worked for The Gasparilla Inn. The arrival of the Bush family, who attended the Episcopal Church, even allowed him to preach to Secret Service agents, many good old boys from places like Oklahoma.

He mentions the late Pansy Polk Cost, the Fust librarian, as well as her brother Darrell Polk, as many of the locals who prepared the way for him. It was Darrell Polk who called him to the church, where he eventually won over all 12 on the church committee.

“All 12 of them voted for me,” said Beatty. “It was the only time I got 100 percent.”

He will still preach at other churches as an itinerant, but cannot take on another church. He calls First Baptist Church a true mission church, with a very unique set of needs.

“When I came here it intimidated me to no end,” said Beatty. “I often asked the Lord in prayer, why did you call me? I’m just a country boy from the hills of southern Ohio.”