Now Hilton Head will give back to DJ star Monty Jett – with $108K for charity

Monty Jett left us as smoothly as spoke on the radio for 36 years as the voice of Hilton Head Island.

He was sleeping when his heart failed during the night, and he glided on out a day later on Oct. 24 at age 76.

A celebration of his uniquely Lowcountry life will be held Friday, Nov. 15, from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. at the Mary Ann Peeples Pavilion at the Coastal Discovery Museum. It will be pure Monty, with live music, food, drinks, stories -- and a goal of raising $108,000 for local charities.

Mayor Alan Perry has named it Monty Jett Day on Hilton Head.

Monty was at the top of his game. He was healthy, happy, and still broadcasting a Saturday morning show. He had two new grandbabies. And in March, he relished the role of grand marshal of Hilton Head’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade, a perfect perch for a beloved showman who jazzed it up with a horse-drawn carriage.

Monty was a well-known in person as he was as a faceless radio voice. He was everywhere, and everyone knew him.

The family says he helped local charities at countless events over the years raise $30 million for charity.

He first sat in front of a microphone at age 15 in Denmark, South Carolina, as “Monty Jett and the Jett Set.”

He remained local to the bone, and eventually joined a list of local disc jockey stars like Mark Robertson, Phil McLean and the rascally “Uncle Billy” Peters of Beaufort.

Monty came to the island from Charleston in 1988 when WIJY “Joy 108” came on the air, bringing a little Elvis into a room full of Benny Goodmans, if you will.

He guided us through hurricanes, traffic jams and beach music weekends, always with a hook, like the trivia contest during his on-air fishing gig with Fuzzy Davis. Monty and

Fuzzy talked a few minutes – live – about fishing every weekday morning for 35 years. “I had more moms tell me their kids wouldn’t get out of the car at the elementary school until we gave the answer to the trivia question,” Davis said.

Monty never stumbled. He never ran out of words. And his voice was calming.

“He was born with that mellifluous, golden, comforting but distinctive voice,” said his wife and broadcasting partner, Ginnie Lee Chalmers-Jett.

He could smooth over episodes like the year they sailed MoonPies like Frisbees into the St. Patrick’s Day crowd from the radio station float.

“You could get some distance with those things,” laughs Fuzzy Davis, who said the MoonPie toss was quickly banned.

Monty also survived the crashing waves of change in the radio industry.

He loved to say in that deep voice that seemed to have a smile separate and apart from the smile on his face that everything from the eight-track tape to streaming services were supposed to kill radio.

“Monty not only weathered that with dignity, he remained relevant and was still true to himself,” said Brad Tholen, a broadcasting partner for six years.

“He genuinely loved people and was able to communicate that love.”

Monty did move up and down the dial a few times on Hilton Head, but he was so important to his stations for public relations, marketing and sales that the owners had sense enough to leave him alone.

“He was so true to the trade of radio,” said Ginnie Lee, who was married to Monty twice, and even in the years of divorce co-hosted a radio show with him.

Monty’s goal was to give the community a voice at the microphone, but he was not a political animal and never sank into the vitriolic cesspool of “talk radio.”

He felt the only way for radio to survive was to be local.

And so the man who knew the throbbing summer nights of dancing at the Varnville Pool mixed like bourbon and water with a posh new Lowcountry.

That upbeat outlook -- and steady voice -- made a difference during the Lowcountry’s decades of breakneck change.

Fuzzy Davis, his airwave fishing buddy who became like a brother, said it best:

“He helped to give Hilton Head an identity.”

David Lauderdale may be reached at lauderdalecolumn@gmail.com.