<p>Going to watch The Masters in person at Augusta National is a bucket-list item for many golf fans, so about a year ago, Joel Beavins decided there was no sense in waiting any longer to check it off his list.</p>
<p>Beavins and longtime friend Rob Parramore made plans to travel to Georgia this past spring along with their youngest daughters, both avid golfers. They made arrangements to use a friend’s tournament badges and got travel plans locked in. But on April 10, the day before the tournament started, those tickets fell through.</p>
<p>Beavins stayed up late that Friday night working the phones from a Georgia hotel room, desperately trying to nail down last-minute badges for the weekend rounds. By 8 a.m., he managed to pull it off, the forecast rain for Saturday’s round never arrived, and the four of them watched the last two rounds at Augusta, witnessing Tiger Woods’ historic win that Sunday.</p>[sc:text-divider text-divider-title="Story continues below gallery" ]
<p>A once-in-a-lifetime experience for all involved, courtesy of Joel Beavins.</p>
<p>“He was the one that made everything happen for everybody else,” said Melissa Parramore, Rob’s wife. “He really did.”</p>
<p>As it turns out, it was fortunate Beavins had insisted on making that trip happen this year. The Franklin resident died earlier this month as a result of injuries suffered when a small plane flying out of Greenwood crashed near Lansing, Michigan.</p>
<p>But that good fortune was born out of Beavins’ insistence on always living life to the fullest. Each of us has a limited number of days on this earth — and while his time may have come to a premature end, Beavins lived large. He made the most of the days he had and tried to help everyone he cared about do the same.</p>
<p>The Beavins family and the Parramore family went on spring break trips together almost every year, often to sunny locations in Florida or along the Gulf of Mexico. Joel Beavins wasn’t really a beach person, but he still went along for the ride just so his family and friends could enjoy the surf and sand; he was content to sneak in a round of golf or two on the trip.</p>
<p>Part of the fun, the Parramores said, was hearing Beavins tell stories that seemed to get crazier every time he was asked to tell them — and creating fodder for new tales as they went along.</p>
<p>“Wherever we would go, he was always conjuring up some kind of funny — he was a salesman, so wherever we went, he was trying to get something for free just by talking to people,” recalled Ally Parramore, Rob’s oldest daughter. “Even in the drive-thru at McDonalds, his notorious thing, he would always try to get another free drink.”</p>
<p>“More than anything, it was just to see if he could do it,” Melissa Parramore added. “It was a challenge.”</p>
<p>But such schemes were seldom selfishly motivated. Beavins was the kind of guy that would go an hour out of his way on a drive home from one of his younger daughter’s golf tournaments to deliver an Impossible Whopper from Burger King to his older daughter, who attends college in Indianapolis.</p>
<p>Much of his joy in life came from spreading joy to those around him.</p>
<p>“You can’t think about Joel Beavins and not just smile or laugh,” said Jay Hoffman, a close friend.</p>
<p>At his memorial service Friday, those nearest to Joel recalled a fiercely loyal friend who was always the first to offer advice or a helping hand — and not just to his family or closest friends. Beavins went on numerous mission trips to various destinations, and made sure to rope others into going as well. He made it a point to help those less fortunate, but in a way that allowed those people to maintain their dignity.</p>
<p>Beavins showed that same empathy to everyone he came across. Friends said when Beavins entered a room, he made time to check in with everyone, listening intently to what each person said and somehow always finding the right emotion for the moment, whether you needed a shoulder to cry on, a joke to break the tension, or a kick in the pants as he urged you to move forward instead of sweating the small things or feeling sorry for yourself.</p>
<p>Out to dinner with several families and their children a couple years ago, Hoffman was feeling down because his oldest daughter was about to leave for college.</p>
<p>Sensing something was wrong, Beavins listened carefully to Hoffman pour his heart out — “and even let me wallow in my own self-pity for a minute, but only for about a minute,” Hoffman said — before giving it to him straight. Beavins reassured Hoffman he had done his job as a parent and everything was going to be OK … and then punctuated the conversation in his own personal style.</p>
<p>“In the end,” Hoffman recalled, “(Joel) squeezed my shoulder and told me, ‘You’ve got to suck it up and soldier on, buddy.’”</p>
<p>Beavins had probably given some version of that pep talk to more than a few of his friends. And while many of them are hurting, they’re trying to honor his memory as he would have wanted them to, by sucking it up, soldiering on and continuing to maximize every day, just as he did.</p>
<p>“That’s been at the forefront of my mind,” longtime friend Rich Arkanoff said. “Trying to honor Joel by stepping up my game as a community leader, as a father and as a friend.”</p>
<p>“He’s irreplaceable,” Melissa Parramore added. “But we’re all going to have to do the best we can to live life the way he would want us to — to the fullest, like he did.”</p>
