Remembering Brendan Farrington: A Decades‑Long Voice in Florida Politics

Brendan Farrington, a name that meant “source you can trust” to generations of Florida journalists, died this past Friday at his Tallahassee home. He was 60, and his passing follows a short, unexpected illness, according to close friend Steve Schale.

Born in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, Farrington cut his teeth at the Patriot Ledger in Quincy back in 1988. By the late 1990s he’d swapped New England winters for the humid heat of Miami, joining the Associated Press. In 2001 he landed in Tallahassee, where he would spend the bulk of his career covering everything from legislative maneuvers to the state's relentless hurricane season.

Colleagues remembered him as a fair‑minded reporter with a quick wit and a passion for the oddball side of the Sunshine State. He compiled an annual “Weird Florida” roundup that featured stories so bizarre they sounded like urban legends—like the 1999 tale of a man who amputated his own finger, cooked it with scrambled eggs, and ate it.

Beyond the headlines, Farrington was a mentor. Former AP Florida news editor Terry Spencer recalled how the newsroom would light up when Brendan’s phone rang with tips from aides, legislators, and even back‑office staff. “He was the kind of journalist politicians trusted on both sides of the aisle,” Spencer said.

His reporting sometimes landed him in the crosshairs of power. In 2021, Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis’s press secretary publicly threatened him on social media after he exposed a donor’s investment in a COVID‑19 drug company. Farrington responded with measured humor, tweeting, “For your sake, I hope government doesn’t threaten your safety. I’ll be fine, I hope. Freedom. Just please don’t kill me.”

Former Governor Jeb Bush paid tribute on X, calling Farrington “an old‑school journalist” and “a real pro.” Those who knew him best also remembered his love of baseball—he proudly claimed to have set foot in every major‑league ballpark—and his habit of snapping “selfies with strangers” wherever he went.

After more than 25 years with the AP, he took a voluntary buyout in January 2025. Yet his influence lingered; AP Global Sports Editor Josh Hoffner said Brendan was “a watchdog and champion of government transparency, press access, and accountability journalism.”

He leaves behind his wife, Amy, and a legacy of stories that blended rigorous reporting with a genuine curiosity about the human side of every event. As Amy put it, “Brendan loved everyone he met and believed in the decency that lives inside each of us.”