Remembering Brendan Farrington: A Lifelong Journalist Who Covered Florida's Politics and Storms

Brendan Farrington, the Associated Press veteran who spent more than two and a half decades chasing stories across the Florida capital, died Friday at his Tallahassee home. He was 60, and the news of his passing spread quickly among the journalists and politicians who’d known him for years.

Friends described him as a well‑sourced, fair‑minded reporter with a dry sense of humor—plus an unstoppable love of baseball. In fact, he bragged about having set foot in every major‑league ballpark, a pastime he squeezed in between press briefings and hurricane chases.

Born in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, Brendan cut his teeth at the Patriot Ledger in Quincy back in 1988. He moved to the AP’s Miami bureau in the late ’90s, then transferred to Tallahassee in 2001, where he became the go‑to voice on everything from gubernatorial races to the aftermath of Category‑5 storms.

Colleagues recalled the sheer volume of calls he fielded on election night 2014—politicians, aides, even back‑office staff—each hoping he’d catch a behind‑the‑scenes whisper. “He was the kind of reporter you trusted, no matter which side of the aisle you were on,” said Terry Spencer, former AP Florida news editor.

His reporting style was anything but dry. When a hurricane loomed, he didn’t just note wind speeds; he told the stories of the families sandwiched between rising waters and broken roofs. “Brendan always tried to frame the big picture through the lives of ordinary people,” said Steve Schale, a longtime friend and fellow journalist.

Beyond the hard‑news beat, Brendan had a penchant for the oddball. Each year he compiled a “Weird Florida” roundup, featuring everything from a man who cooked his own amputated finger to a leech‑treated digit rescued from a frozen pig. Those quirky pieces reminded everyone that Florida’s news landscape is as strange as it is political.

He wasn’t shy about the backlash either. In 2021, a press secretary for Gov. Ron DeSantis publicly threatened him on social media after he reported on a donor’s investment in a COVID‑19 drug company. Brendan responded with a wry tweet: “For your sake, I hope government doesn’t threaten your safety. I’ll be fine, I hope. Freedom. Just please don’t kill me.” The episode underscored his commitment to holding power accountable, even when it invited personal attacks.

Brendan left the AP in January 2025 after taking a voluntary buyout, but his influence lingered. Former AP global sports editor Josh Hoffner called him “a watchdog, a champion of government transparency, and a mentor to countless journalists.” Even former Gov. Jeb Bush paid tribute on X, calling him “an old‑school journalist… a real pro.”

Those who knew him most fondly remember his habit of snapping “selfies with a stranger” wherever he went—at bars, restaurants, or just on a sidewalk. His wife, Amy Farrington, summed it up: “Brendan loved everyone he met and believed in the decency that lives inside each of us.”

Brendan Farrington’s legacy is a blend of rigorous reporting, a dash of humor, and an unwavering belief that the press should shine a light on both the extraordinary and the everyday. He will be missed by the newsroom, the politicians who trusted him, and the countless readers who counted on his clear, compassionate storytelling.