Once upon a time, in a town called Sarasota, there lived two men with the same first name—though spelled a little differently—and a shared reputation for doing good deeds. These two 60-somethings, once known as the “bad boys” of their youth, never followed the expected route. College never called to them, yet both found their way into philanthropy in 2012, after forging very different careers. One was a native Floridian who roamed the wilds of Osprey, became a passionate environmental advocate and served in public office.The other grew up in a small town in Massachusetts, joined the Marines at 17 and later made his mark in public policy. Today, these men—great storytellers, master connectors and quiet heroes—are pillars of the community. They give without hesitation, serve without seeking the spotlight and lift others in ways many will never see.
The Story of Jon Thaxton
Long before Jon Thaxton became a respected leader at the Gulf Coast Community Foundation, shaping transformative policy and advocating for housing, health and the environment, he was just a stubborn redheaded kid from Osprey who liked to explore. Born into a fifth-generation Sarasotan family and raised on a farm in the space that is now Roessler’s Restaurant, Jon’s earliest memories were in the undeveloped land of what would later become Palmer Ranch. It was his playground, his classroom and eventually the foundation for his life’s work.
A lifelong advocate—His first act of advocacy came during his fifth-grade year. That was when Jon wrote his first letter to the editor of the Sarasota Herald-Tribune, outraged over the financial burden of public litter clean-up. “It was un-American to litter,” he wrote, arguing that it raised taxes for everyone else. Looking back, he sees that short letter as the catalyst: “I guess I never had a choice about saving the environment.”
The next defining moment came as a teenager, standing in front of a map of the proposed I-75 route. Jon, an avid outdoorsman and budding conservationist, saw more than lines on a page—he saw a path plowing through Sarasota’s best wetlands and wildlife habitats.
Empowered by instinct and quad maps, he wrote to the Florida Department of Transportation. He was ignored. He sent it again and was ignored again. “They built the interstate based upon what powerful people owned with total disregard for wetlands and natural areas. But I was hooked. I’ve done environmental public advocacy from that day till today,” he says.
Behind every force of change is an inspiration. For Jon, that someone was Bill Wimish, his high school biology teacher. A fellow hunter, Wimish took Jon’s love for the outdoors and gave it structure, scientific grounding and purpose. “I understood the habitat,” Jon says. “It made me a better fisherman, a better hunter and a better conservationist.” There was also Colonel Walker, Jon’s civics teacher, whose lessons in government stayed with him through his 12 years as a Sarasota County Commissioner. Both mentors passed before he could thank them, a regret Jon carries—but one he turns into advice for today’s educators: “Don’t wait for a thank you. Teach like it matters. Because it does.”
Jon’s teenage years were not what most of his admirers today would expect. “I was a bad apple,” he says with a grin. A few arrests, skipped school and the end of his Boy Scout troop shaped a wild period in his life. At one point, nearly every scout in his troop was on probation—including Jon. In a full-circle twist, his first campaign donation came from his former probation officer. “He wrote the check and drew a smiley face in the memo line. I never cashed it. I still have it,” he says. Since joining the Gulf Coast Community Foundation in 2012, Jon has led initiatives that have reshaped the region: systems of care for the homeless, healthier food distribution, stronger affordable housing policies and environmental efforts like the Water Quality Playbook and the expansion of Legacy Trail. He’s been a driving force behind The Bay Park and remains a fierce defender of the land that shaped him.
Mark Pritchett, the retired CEO of Gulf Coast Community Foundation and current Board Member of The Bay Park Conservancy—who promoted Jon to Vice President for Community Leadership when he became President and CEO of the Foundation—has too many memories to fit in this story, but a few stand out as favorites (and funniest): “I met Jon when I first came to Sarasota back in 2008. We were meeting at Millie’s for breakfast, and I didn’t know the area well. I told him I was running a little late because I was having trouble finding it. He asked where I was and I said, ‘I think I’m going north on Clark Road,’ and he said, ‘No, Clark Road runs east-west, not north-south.’ He’s never let me live that down—he thought that was hilarious. Great first impression.” He also recalled Jon’s “little boy innocence” and forgetfulness: “He’s left his phone in different places around the office so many times. I smile every time I think about it.” And perhaps his favorite observation: “Jon goes to a lot of events to represent the Foundation, and he’s always one of the first to leave but you never know it. He’s known for just slipping out the back when nobody’s looking. He takes great pride in that!”
“Much of the progress Sarasota has made on homelessness in the past decade can be traced—often quietly—to Jon’s leadership. In my view, he’s the unsung hero of the effort. At a time when it was hard to get city and county officials on the same page, Jon was the one person who could bring people together and help craft a unified, multi-pronged strategy,” says local philanthropist, volunteer and author Jim Doyle. “I’ll admit, Jon also had to teach me a few things—especially about patience, which doesn’t always come naturally to entrepreneurs. One day, he told me something that stuck: Entrepreneurs are like motorboats on a river. They can move fast—but if they’re not careful, they capsize. Government is like a barge. It takes a long, long time to get it moving. But once it’s headed in the right direction, it’s almost impossible to stop. Jon Thaxton did more than anyone else to get that barge moving in the right direction in Sarasota. And I know homelessness is just one of many areas where his fingerprints are all over the progress we’ve made.”
“Jon Thaxton stands out for his broad curiosity and thoughtful engagement across housing, the arts and environmental issues—qualities rare in a world of specialists,” adds Joe McKenna, president & CEO of the Sarasota Orchestra. “He’s deeply committed to making things better, from local youth programs to cross-sector housing efforts. Jon listens, seeks understanding and motivates others to act. A fan of the Constitution and Federalist Papers, his work is rooted in fairness and civic values. Our community is fortunate to have someone like him.”
Swimming with the dolphins—Jon’s relationship with dolphins spans decades, from swimming with Flipper as a kid in Key West to becoming a trained member of Sarasota’s marine mammal rescue team. There was even a wild night as a teenage dishwasher at a local Holiday Inn when after stealing some cheap wine, Jon and his friends took a drunken midnight swim with two relocated dolphins. “We were drunk as skunks,” he laughs. Now, Jon assists in Sarasota Bay’s renowned dolphin health assessments—precise, collaborative efforts with marine scientists from around the world. “Each dolphin has a name, a family tree. It’s mindblowing,” he says. “I am the most fortunate redneck from Osprey that’s ever been.”
The Andy Griffith Show at Jon’s house—Beyond conservation, Jon is a superfan of The Andy Griffith Show. With thousands of memorabilia pieces, he owns the world’s largest private collection. Every few years, his home becomes a full-blown Mayberry museum, packed from floor to ceiling with nostalgic pieces. When he heard Ron Howard—who played Opie on the show—was visiting Ringling College, Jon called in a favor. “I needed some photos signed,” he says. Ron obliged and Jon added a few prized autographs to his one-of-a-kind collection.
Dancing with Drew—Jon met the love of his life over 30 years ago. About Drew— a former juvenile probation officer—Jon says “It was love at first sight for me,” he laughs. “She was dancing, surrounded by admirers, and I waited for my shot.” Their first dance was a waltz, and they’ve been dancing together ever since. “I was attracted to her beauty, and she was attracted to me because she thought she could fix me. Only half of that’s true,” he says.
And Then Came Rocky—During COVID, Jon embraced a new wardrobe, a beard and a dog named Rocky. After losing him briefly to a change of heart from the prior owners, Jon and Drew bought him back—for $1,000. “Two days later, they offered us $2,000 to take him back. We said, ‘No way.’ He’s not for sale. He’s our baby,” recalls Jon.
A Story Still Unfolding—From a boy scribbling letters to the editor to a man orchestrating regional transformations, Jon Thaxton’s journey is proof that passion, purpose and even a little rebellion can shape a life of extraordinary impact.
Vice President of Community Leadership at Gulf Coast Community Foundation, Erin Minor, shares how both men have made a significant impact in the community and with her, personally: “For decades, Jon and John have stood as pillars of our community—steadfast public servants whose brilliance, humor and integrity have shaped the very fabric of civic life. They have championed what is right and good for all, often leading with courage even when the path was not easy or popular. Their vision and advocacy have not only left a lasting mark on our community but have also deeply influenced me personally. As mentors, they guided me with wisdom and conviction; as confidants and friends, they offered support, encouragement and perspective at pivotal moments in my work. Their example has been both a standard to aspire to and a source of strength, reminding me that leadership is about service, character and heart. Their legacy is written not only in the progress of our community but in the lives they have touched along the way—including mine.”
The Story of John Annis
President and CEO of the Charles & Margery Barancik Foundation and former president and CEO of Gulf Coast Community Foundation, Teri Hansen, hired Jon Thaxton when he joined Gulf Coast in 2012 and John Annis when he joined Barancik in 2018. “I was at Gulf Coast and John was at the Community Foundation. He was head of grants there. After sitting through some meetings, I quickly realized we were of like minds—that we saw problems in the community in a similar way. So as I was staffing up, there was no question that we would hire him. Chuck Barancik just loved him and so I hired him. I became known as “the chief thief” because I stole all the good employees from other organizations . . . and I was totally good with that!” she says. “John has been a great connector for the Foundation to a lot of the organizations that are small, upcoming grassroots that we might not have otherwise found. I call him ‘my fixer’— I give him a problem and he solves it. For his retirement, I’ve given him a five-year offramp, with the working days gradually tapering off each year. I think it’ll be great for the Foundation and great for the new CEO.” She adds that like Thaxton, Annis has a great sense of humor: “He’s got this big truck and in the back there’s a flatbed with this big cover that you can remove and it’s a big kind of pit. He said ‘if you’re ever missing, they should probably check this place first. That’s where I’ll put you!’ Life is boring when John Annis is not here.”
In a small town in Massachusetts where everyone knew each other by name, John Annis grew up surrounded by the quiet strength of community. His father, who started as a truck driver and gravel worker, eventually became the town’s chief of police. But big titles like this meant little where John came from. “We didn’t think in terms of rich or poor,” he reflects. “Everyone helped everyone. That’s just what you did.” That early exposure to a values-driven, tight-knit environment shaped John’s worldview in lasting ways. Even during his “bad boy” teenage years—protected, as he jokes, by a town good at keeping secrets—he learned about trust, loyalty and responsibility. Lessons that would serve him well later, both in the United States Marine Corps and in philanthropy.
From Marine to Mission-Driven Leader—John’s path to leadership was not paved with expectations or strategic career moves. It was driven by curiosity, service and a desire to make things better. After serving 24 years in the Marine Corps and retiring as a sergeant major—his dream rank—he sought a change of pace. That change came at the Herald-Tribune, where he started as a junior staffer counting papers. It didn’t take long before John began spotting inefficiencies, asking questions and climbing through the ranks to become director of customer services and a member of both the executive team and editorial board.
His next stops at the Collins Center for Public Policy and later the Community Foundation of Sarasota County broadened his understanding of how complex issues like poverty, education and policy are interwoven. At the Community Foundation, he was hired into a role for which he did not at all feel qualified. “I had never made a grant in my life,” he laughs. “But the people around me—Patricia Martin, Susie Bowie, Jon Thaxton—they were generous with their time and knowledge. I just listened and learned.”
Jim Doyle first met John in 2015 when he had established a fund at the Community Foundation of Sarasota to help address homelessness in our community. “At that time, John worked at the Foundation, and his job was to help guide donors like me. But I quickly realized John was much more than a capable advisor—he was a remarkable force for good,” Doyle says. “He struck me as a rare combination: the laser-focused discipline of a retired Marine, paired with a deep compassion and drive to serve. Together, we explored a wide range of possible solutions. John didn’t care who got the credit. The approach we ultimately funded wasn’t connected to his foundation at all. That didn’t matter to him—he just wanted to solve the problem. Over the years, I’ve seen that same spirit show up again and again. John is mission-driven, not ego-driven. He asks the hard questions, keeps his eye on the goal and always leads with heart.”
Sarasota wasn’t part of John’s original plan. But it was always part of his wife, Regina’s heart. A Sarasota native, she and John met in the Marine Corps and married over 35 years ago. After trying out Sarasota as a potential retirement destination in 2002, they never left. “We were just testing it out,” John says with a smile. “Now we have grandkids living here, so the test is complete.”
John brought his deep sense of duty, humility and big-picture thinking to the Barancik Foundation in 2018. He quickly became a force behind the scenes—guiding investments in education, humanitarian aid, arts and culture, the environment and medical research. As Senior Vice President of Collaboration and Impact, he wasn’t just overseeing grantmaking—he was weaving connections between organizations, ideas and people.
In May 2025, he transitioned to a new role as Senior Advisor. It’s a shift in title, but not in purpose. Now, he works at a higher level, helping nonprofits build resilience and pushing the region toward more collaborative, transformative philanthropy.
The Aspen Years—A decade ago, John was selected as an Ascend Fellow at the Aspen Institute, a prestigious program focused on breaking intergenerational poverty by supporting both children and the adults in their lives. That experience reminded him of something fundamental: “Too often, people in my position think they know more than the people who are actually doing the work. The people we’re serving are the ones facing the real nonsense. Our job is to help get the nonsense out of their way so they can be as efficient as possible,” he says. Through Ascend, John met some of the most thoughtful changemakers of his life. It reinforced his dedication to the frontline nonprofits doing the real work on the ground.
The Wrong Jo(h)n—Not every day in John’s professional life has gone according to plan. One day, while still at the Community Foundation, he was invited to speak to a group that seemed very excited to have him. When he arrived at the event, he realized why: they thought they had booked former County Commissioner Jon Thaxton. “I called Jon from the parking lot as soon as I figured it out,” John says, chuckling. “He was on his way there, too. I told him, ‘I’m leaving. You can have it. I’m going to get ice cream instead.’”
Papa John—Perhaps his most cherished title these days is not “Senior Advisor” or “Sergeant Major”—it’s “Papa.” John’s grandchildren, Amaya (5) and Dahlia (1), live just minutes away. “It’s incredible,” he says, with unmistakable joy. “They’re so beautiful. So much fun. I get to be a part of their lives every day.”
A Connector for Community Change—Whether building military teams, fixing newspaper systems, transforming nonprofits or guiding family-focused philanthropy, John Annis has always been a connector. He connects ideas, people and purpose. He sees communities not as problems to be solved, but as networks of neighbors lifting one another up—just like in that small Massachusetts town where he grew up. Here in Sarasota, he’s still doing what he’s always done: listening, learning and helping good people do good work. The titles may have changed. The mission has not.
“John Annis is a champion of the impossible,” says Luz Corcuera, the now-retired executive director of UnidosNow. “He was instrumental in the 2Generation work in Sarasota-Manatee. I worked closely with him while implementing the intergenerational leadership program at UnidosNow for low-income, first-generation college students. John understood that it was critical to empower parents to engage in their children’s educational attainment.” Corcuera remembers with fondness the evening John met with UnidosNow parents to learn about their fundraising efforts to join their children on a two-day college tour to Florida universities. “John helped obtain additional funds to support a life-changing experience for these families. He was a regular speaker in the UnidosNow college prep program, promoting building social capital and developing networking skills. He was our go-to person when students wanted to connect with professionals and opportunities in the community to learn about a variety of professions, taking the time to accompany students on some career exploration days. I am grateful that during my tenure at UnidosNow, I had his support as a trusted mentor, a friend and the magician who made things happen. John is a passionate community leader, an inspiration to many of us, and someone who believes in collective power.”
“John Annis often contributes to individuals in ways that matter most—honesty, encouragement, social capital, and quiet giving,” says President and CEO of The William G. and Marie Selby Foundation, Susie Bowie. “These may not be recognizable to anyone other than one person at a time and those with their circle, but they are the bits that change the trajectory of lives and the bits you never forget.”
Joint Q&A
You both entered philanthropy in 2012, completely unplanned. What brought you here?
JON THAXTON I was a three-term county commissioner. I was running for my fourth term, again unopposed. I had well over $100,000 in the bank and I was the only candidate raising $100,000. Then all of a sudden, the Supreme Court of Florida makes a reversal of jurisprudence that they have upheld for decades and Sarasota County had a charter provision that made term limits unconstitutional. So the Supreme Court says, “Well, we changed our mind. It is now constitutional despite the fact that the constitution says it’s not constitutional.” And so I was the first elected official in the state of Florida to be kicked out of office by the Supreme Court. So here I am, going from de facto elected to not even being able to qualify to run. It was devastating. I got a call a couple days later from Dan Bailey, saying, “You should think about one of the foundations.” Less than 24 hours later, I got a call from Teri Hansen asking me what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. At the time, I couldn’t spell philanthropy and
I thought, “What the heck—let’s do it. That’s it.”
JOHN ANNIS Similar other than I’ve never been elected, I was a head of our homes association for a little bit of time. I didn’t even vote for myself for that and hated that idea of being involved in that at all. The Community Foundation was looking for someone and my name was suggested and even though I felt totally unqualified, I did six or seven interviews after they first called me. One of the times they asked if I had any questions and I said, “My only question is, how many other candidates do you have?” They said, “Oh, we don’t have any other candidates.” I was the only candidate and they still couldn’t make a decision till after six interviews! At the first one, Roxy actually hugged me and said, “We love you.” I told my wife that and she said, “Well, they obviously don’t love you that much because you still are not getting a job offer.” So that’s how I stumbled into philanthropy.
You’re both known as great connectors. In just a few words, what does that actually mean in your day-to-day work?
ANNIS Actually, I’m going to weave Jon into this. I think part of that connection is—and I know that both of us have this—we’re thinking about what the outcome is that we want to achieve. What’s the destination and who are the people that can help us get there? One of the projects I was working on at the Community Foundation had involved homelessness. The county and city ordinances are really complicated and I could have spent a month trying to put all that in my brain to just try to figure out how to give the best advice to this one donor. Then I thought, “why would I do that when Jon Thaxton is a phone call away? I’ll just call Jon and ask him to come to the Community Foundation and talk to this donor about all the things he has rolling around in his head.” I thought that was really smart of me! That donor is still friends of both of ours and talks about Jon and me both telling him not to invest his money at that moment into homelessness because the county and the city were fighting. He held the money the market actually did better. He made $35,000 on his investment while he was sitting there doing nothing and then he did end up investing that money into some homeless stuff with both foundations and since then has helped to start Second Heart Homes, which now has 12 homes. Jon’s background and our advice together was what made him make a smart decision, and that has worked for me over and over again. I am not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I do, like Jon, know a lot of other people that are really good at other things. Why not get input from the great talent we have in this community to get other ideas and then push back and get other perspectives?
THAXTON That homeless system that the anonymous donor put together is still the same homeless system that this county is working on today. I was at a meeting the other day and we’re having a hard time getting interest in homelessness because, compared to four or five years ago, when there were six homeless people on every corner panhandling all over the streets, 150 outside the Salvation Army, 30 or 40 outside the Resurrection House, there’s hardly any of that anymore. For a county of a half a million people to have that as the homeless in this economic situation, we’re a standout and it’s because of the cooperation that we had and because this one donor fronted us the money and he’s an entrepreneur. Entrepreneurs are all different but they have one thing in common. Impatience. To play off of what John said, I am Sarasota’s master of stealing great ideas. All of my great accomplishments, the environmentally sensitive land, the Sarasota Bayfront, the Legacy Trail, the homeless, all of these things that people give me credit for doing were ideas that I stole from someone else and they work because, as John said, we’re not the experts, but we know who the experts are. And that’s the key.
When you both look back at your careers, is there one moment that you can talk about that stands out to be especially meaningful?
ANNIS There’s one that always comes to mind for me and it involves the Season of Sharing campaign. I was at the Herald Tribune when they started Season of Sharing. Then I went to the Community Foundation of Sarasota County where they actually managed the Season of Sharing campaign and frequently we would get big gifts. There’d be a $100,000 gift or there’d be a $50,000 gift and they’d raised millions of dollars. I remember one day Lori, who’s at the front desk, called me and said, “You’ve got to read this letter.” Inside the envelope were five one dollar bills and the woman had written that she had benefited from Season of Sharing previously and she was finally in a position where she could give back so she sent five $1 bills in an envelope. That note saying ‘I took someone else’s money, now I want to be part of the solution, that was a good one for me.
THAXTON I don’t even know if I can compete with that one—it’s very, very touching. Each time that we are successful at the polls in raising money to purchase environmentally sensitive land and park land in Sarasota, for me that’s the greatest feeling because I know that these are the longest lasting and most enduring things that I’m ever going to do. Parks are around for hundreds and hundreds of years and I’ve been a part of 30 or 40 parks in Sarasota. And for instance, when I drive by Red Bug Slough Preserve and I see all of these cars and all of these children enjoying the park and I know that if I weren’t there advocating for that park, it would be a condominium development. There’s nothing wrong with a condominium development, but parks are really cool and they’re really rewarding in that way. So that’s always my best memory and it’s kind of a recurring thing.
What do you hope your legacy, both professionally and personally?
THAXTON That’s easy for me. If you go to Google Earth and zoom in on Southwest Florida, you’ll see this huge green blob in eastern Sarasota County, and it represents 135,000 acres of natural lands. That’s it. That’s my legacy. It’s huge. It is so big that were you to be fortunate enough to hitch a ride on the International Space Station and you looked out the window as it was flying over the eastern seaboard, you’d be able to see this thing. It’s so large you can see it from outer space.
ANNIS That is very cool. For me it’s more about answering the phone. People still seem to be surprised when they call and I answer the cell phone. You tell me what you’re thinking about. I tell you how I think we might be able to help or not. We still have to say no on occasion, but I want to be willing to talk and collaborate, try to figure out a way or give you a suggestion and maybe something else that might work. I love introducing people who may be able to do something even if we’re not involved. I get a lot of joy out of knowing that the ability to get small nonprofits in the right funding stream or help them get better at what they’re doing is something I’m really good at.
On to the fun questions. You’ve both been called ‘bad boys’ in your youth. I’d like you to each share one story and we can let our readers decide which one of you was the biggest bad boy.
ANNIS I don’t think I want this in print because I’m not sure the statute of limitations expired! My dad was in the police department at the time. One of my best friend’s sister bought a car and it was a lemon and she tried everything to try to give the car back and it kept breaking down. So, we decided that we would steal her car and then burn it so she could collect the insurance money. We took the keys, had an extra key made and we stole her car one night, brought it to an open area, filled it with gasoline, and then—because we hadn’t paid enough attention in science class—thought that if we made a trail of gasoline, we could light it from far away and we lit the match. Immediately, everything exploded. It burned the car tires. It burned it right down so that they couldn’t even find the VIN eventually. My dad investigated the case and of course they couldn’t solve it because he had no idea how it had happened. I’m living in the same house with the guy! My friend’s sister eventually got the insurance money for it. I may think of something less bad boy but yeah, that was pretty awful.
That was bad and you might have won already, but let’s hear Jon Thaxton’s story.
ANNIS Oh, no. I bet Jon should probably be in prison right now. His could have happened this week. Mine was at least back years ago.
THAXTON Yeah. I don’t know which one to choose. I’ve been arrested five times, put in jail four times. All of my crimes are crimes against property. I never committed a crime against a human being. I’m not a violent person, although I was suspended twice for fighting but let’s go with this one: I was at a Styx concert and got arrested for copious amounts of cocaine and spent two nights in the Polk County Jail and that one’s bad. But I was also involved in two arson incidents on the same day. So, this is after I got arrested for shoplifting at Publix when I stole an 18-cent can of potato sticks. Before we went in to do the shoplifting, a friend and I were smoking cigarettes outside of the Venice High School Planetarium, which was made of fiberglass. We thought, ‘man, this thing would blow like crazy’ so, we lit it on fire. We burned down the school planetarium. Then we went over to Publix and we started another fire. They had a bunch of cardboard boxes lying around, so we lit them on fire with lighter fluid. Then to top it all off, we went into Publix and I stole the can of potato sticks with $35 in my pocket. They detained me at Publix. The fire department’s outside putting out the fire and by this time, the planetarium’s already burned to the ground. Detective Slater picks me up at Venice High School, puts me in the back of a detective car and drives me to the jail, reads me my rights and puts me in. This is when the Venice Police Department had a jail, a small holding cell on Venice Avenue. I get on the phone and I call my dad. I’m 16 years old and he just picks up the phone and said, “What’d you do this time?” Of course, I didn’t tell him about the fires. I just said, “I got arrested for shoplifting.” He asks “How much was it? I say, “It was on sale. It was only 18 cents!” He asks “How much money do you have?” I say, “I don’t know, maybe $40, $35.” Click. He hung up the phone and made me spend two days in jail. I found out later that it traumatized my brothers and sisters severely that our father made their big brother and his oldest son spend two days and an overnight in jail. Shortly thereafter I dropped out of high school for the second time. I did ultimately go back and finish. I had a terrible grade point average. Marijuana is the worst thing in the world to do to a young mind. It’s just terrible. You can’t focus. All you can do is dream and be creative, which is not good. Might be good when you’re in your 30s and you’re working on art, but it’s not good for high school.
ANNIS This reminded me of a lesser felony. At the Marine Corps, I went through boot camp, got promoted and I’m now at Camp Pendleton, sitting with some friends on the beach passing a joint back and forth. The waves are crashing, everything’s beautiful, and as I’m passing the joint, someone reaches in and takes it out of my hand. It’s the military police so, I’m thinking, my career is going to end that day. Luckily, he gave me a second chance. I had worked really hard to get to that point and that was going to ruin it for me. I would have had to go back home, tell my dad that I got kicked out of the Marine Corps for smoking dope on the beach. That would not have gone over well.
THAXTON I also had a cocaine arrest at the Lakeland Civic Center at the Styx concert but Michael Resnik was my local attorney and he got the charges reduced from felony cocaine to misdemeanor marijuana and got those records expunged. But John said something that’s really important. I’m very fortunate because I had four arrests. With that I’m thinking, I’m going to be washing dishes if I’m still alive. But I did a talk recently at the Harvest House Home Again luncheon and part of my presentation was that second chances are for rookies—I needed a fifth chance and that’s only counting the times I got arrested but I’m only successful to the degree that I am today because people gave me the chances. For me, the critical piece was I had two parents that never gave up on me. Neither did my brothers or sisters or my grandmother. My entire family—as much pain and suffering and embarrassment as I caused them because I’m the only one in the family this way. But they
never left me.
ANNIS That’s something else we have in common. I also was locked in a cell, but it was more about a battle of who’s going to surrender. I go into the cell and my dad closes that door and he says basically, let me know when you’re ready to go out. I thought, I’ll just take a nap. So, I laid down in the cell and then it became a battle of wills. I’m not going to ask to be released, you’re gonna have to come and let me out. My dad has a much stronger will than I like. Four hours later, I’m still in the cell but I’m not going to ask to be released. I’ll just stay here. Eventually, someone else came and let me out but my dad had already left and that was my ride. I started walking home and fortunately, someone recognized me and took me home. Dad never mentioned it to me. I never mentioned it to him. I like to think I won because I didn’t ask to be released. He probably thinks he won.
How would you describe one another in one sentence?
ANNIS When big issues come up, Jon is going to give you smart advice. So it’s not only that he’s going to listen to the issue, but he’s going to figure out a strategic approach to problem solving. Because sometimes, my emotions get in the way. I am angry about this. I want to do this. And Jon will say, ‘I get that. You’re pissed. And you should be pissed. Now, let’s move beyond that. What are we going to do now to try to make this happen?’ Jon is a trusted and respected problem solver.
THAXTON I knew about John before I knew John. I just remember him working on the Health and Human Services Committee for years and years and to his credit, he built it. When I look back at the number of lives that have been changed, the number of lives that have been saved as a result of this of this program, I’ve always given John credit for it. Because although there is no such thing as a perfect government program, it is so well put together and I’ve just always thought of John as one of the top philanthropic leaders in this community. I put him right up there with Teri Hansen or any of the CEOs in Sarasota County that we’ve seen. And that’s some pretty heavy hitters!
Much of your work is done in the public eye, but you do plenty more official and unofficial work to help organizations and individuals without the public knowing. Why do you do this under the radar?
THAXTON Well, if you go back and look at all these parks and the Environmentally Sensitive Lands Campaign that’s now raised almost half a billion dollars, you won’t find my name associated with any of those, but they’re all my babies. I built them from the ground up. The parks, the Legacy Trail Campaign—these were thoughts I had when I was 15, 16 years old, when I first discovered those railroad tracks. Forty years later, this guy named Bruce Dylan says, “Man, this railroad track would make a cool trail.” I thought it would too and I ran with it. The reason you do it behind the scenes is because that’s how you get stuff done. If people know that you’re going to be taking credit for it, if you’re going to be in there hogging all the glory, you’re not going to get anything done.
ANNIS I know there are people in positions now who I helped when they were students or who shared a thought that they might want to do at some point. I get a lot of personal satisfaction, particularly as someone who has benefited from being a straight white Christian male. I have benefited a lot because of that privilege, and I try to give back to others in the community who don’t have the same access that I have had. I feel like I have to open doors for others. I think it’s also good for Sarasota. Every brilliant student that I can get to leave and come back and want to do more good things in Sarasota is good for our community. Sometimes, that’s better to do very quietly and not make it public. Someone who works for my financial adviser now was a student I met who was going to school to become a financial adviser. When she finished her schooling, she called me three months before graduation and said, “I’m ready to start doing applications.” I said “send me your resume. Tell me where you want to work and we’ll start introducing you to people,” and every single person I introduced her to thanked me. She speaks two languages, she just graduated from FSU, she’s local. The joy I get from thinking about how happy she is at her employer right now is amazing—it’s almost like Jon’s Google Earth story. I love doing that behind the scenes very quietly. Also, I’ve been fortunate to do okay financially, so I can make financial gifts on my own through a donor advice fund that I still have that doesn’t have my name on it. I feel good about that too.
You’re both very well-traveled. Is there a community outside of Sarasota that you think we should consider as a cohort city that is an inspiration for our future?
ANNIS Actually, I think most of the places I’ve gone within the US, when I tell them about Sarasota, it’s usually the opposite. We are so fortunate, with the arts and the philanthropy and how closely we really do work together. We have some things to complain about for sure. The school board, hospital board, county commission, you can pick out things if you want to, but we really are doing pretty well. I don’t think there are any places I’ve gone where I’ve said, “I wish Sarasota could be more like this.” I’m pretty proud of what’s happening in Sarasota/Manatee at different stages. Our chamber of commerce being the chamber of the year—we’ve got some good things happening here.
THAXTON I love to travel. Most of my travels are around birds. I travel to find rare birds and then as a result of finding rare birds, I meet really fascinating cultures. My aspirations for Sarasota are limitless. I really think that we have opportunities here that most communities are just envious of. I go to Asheville on a regular basis and I love the funk of Asheville. I love going to Europe. I’m a bit of a foodie and a red wine person, so I love going to Spain, Italy and the like, but no, I’m like John. I think people consult with us about things that we’ve done here in Sarasota. We recently republished our water quality playbook and we got some national attention for that.
You’re both transitioning gradually into new roles. What comes next for both of you? You’re not retiring, I know that!
ANNIS No, I actually have said this before and a lot of people have been asking since we signed this contract. It’s not lost on me that the last year of my professional career, I’ll be working one day a week doing something that I would do for free and I would be making more money than my dad made in his highest earning year as a police officer. I know he would be proud of that. He’d also be pissed about it! That would be something that he would be pissed about. I know I will continue to be working with nonprofits and trying to do good things in this community and in Manatee County and DeSoto County. I’m looking forward to growing up with my grandchildren. I want to be the best papa I can be and be a better husband and do all those cool things that I’ve wanted to do for many years and just keep putting off. So with this gift from the Barancik Foundation, it truly is the opportunity to continue to do really good work and stay plugged in, but also do it with people that I love working with.
THAXTON I definitely want to do a lot more traveling. Both my wife and I love to travel. Fortunately, I’ve had good bosses who’ve pretty much just let me do whatever I want to do, but I don’t do whatever I want to do. I’m very much, believe it or not, very constrained. I’m done with being constrained. I’m 68 years old. I have a finite number of years. I’ve put myself in a place where I have had a front row seat at some of the most significant decisions, meeting some of the most significant people for 50 years now. I have a lot of stories I want to tell.
ANNIS Another very important thing I’d like to share is that I will continue to serve as a volunteer guide at Patriot Plaza at Sarasota National Cemetery. I helped to raise the first flag there when it was dedicated and unfortunately had to return back there in 2024 to place my son’s ashes in a columbarium. He ended his life on January 20. One of the ways I’ve honored his memory was to become an official guide there. I “passed” my test on January 20, 2025 and have been taking people on tours since. It’s a great opportunity to visit Anthony and share lots about the amazing gift The Patterson Foundation gave our community.
