Isle of Palms Magazine Summer 2017

15 www.IsleOfPalmsMagazine.com | www.ILoveIOP.com | www.IOPmag.com Approaching his 64th birthday, nostalgia dripped from his lips as he talked about his own memories of wild Super Bowl parties, wildly successful marketing plans, beach volleyball and wind-blown pingpong balls. Myatt readily admitted that he was not exactly a model employee at the post office. But though he was a pain in the you-know-what to his bosses, he was popular among IOP residents. One way he endeared himself to the island’s single females, especially widows, was to deliver a little something extra along with the mail – usually roses on Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day. Though he spent almost another decade-and-a-half with the post office, Myatt’s life was blown in a different direction in 1989, when Hurricane Hugo roared through the Lowcountry. The monster storm wiped out much of Isle of Palms, including the rented building that housed Malibu East, paving the way for the Connector to become reality four years later and convincing real estate developers that people would pay a premium price to live in a mini- mansion overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. “It was a whole ’nother world,” Myatt reminisced. “Now Isle of Palms is a resort island. It wasn’t before. It was a freakin’ destination, unlike anything else. It had a bohemian flair. Everything changed after Hugo. The secret was out. The big houses started coming in.” “I made a lot of money in beer and real estate,” he added. “But I would trade it all to go back to Mayberry.” Myatt took a circuitous route on his way to becoming an Isle of Palms icon. As a young child, he lived in downtown Charleston. His family later moved to James Island, where he graduated from high school. Earning a football scholarship to The Citadel, he majored in Chemistry and Biology, and, when he graduated in 1975, he took a job with MUSC, working the 10 p.m. to 8 a.m. shift. He had eight days on and eight days off, and, though the unusual schedule fit his typical 20-something- living-near-the-beach lifestyle, there was little room for professional advancement. His father suggested that he say goodbye to his dead-end job and take the Postal Service exam. Myatt posted a perfect score, and, in July 1978, he started what eventually would be his 25-year post office career, working Wednesdays and Saturdays and filling in on other days when his fellow employees were sick or on Photo by Jess Wood Photography. Bit by the entrepreneurial spirit for a second time, the former mailman and bar owner now sells everything you would need to play stickball.