The man behind the peanuts is a pillar of West Ashley, but few people really know who he is.
“A lot of people don’t even know my real name,” he said. “You say, ‘Hey, where’s Timothy Grainger in this town?’ They say, ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about.’ You say, ‘Hey, where’s Timbo?’ ‘Oh, I know him! I buy peanuts from him!’
“It’s funny how that works.”
Grainger, 59, opened Timbo’s Boiled Peanuts in 1989 after he got tired of “working for other people for $5.20 an hour,” he said. Growing up in Summerville, his friends doubted the business would work out. But it’s been 30 years, and he has no intention of stopping anytime soon.
He spends about 12 hours a week boiling peanuts — and he sells about 100 pounds on the days he’s open.
“I know how much time it takes to cook them, how much salt to add. I figured it all out after 35 years or so,” he joked.
“I’ve had people come out here asking, ‘How do you cook these?’ And I always say, ‘Hot water and peanuts.’ I ain’t telling.”
A new home
The Summerville native lives in Dorchester County, but makes the 15-mile drive twice a week to his iconic orange trailer parked on S.C. Highway 61. That drive will likely change soon after a dispute with his landlord drove him to look elsewhere for a parking spot for his business, which he depends on for a living.
“My old friends from Summerville HIgh School still keep in touch,” he said. “Charleston in general keeps in touch. They know what’s going on — even if they don’t know the whole story. They say, ‘This ain’t right. You’ve been here for years.’”
But Grainger is holding out hope — and has his eye on a few different spots in West Ashley already.
“But it’s just like money — you can’t count it until it’s in your hand,” he said.”What makes me hopeful is my clientele.” He added that no matter where he ends up parking his new trailer (his current one is likely to fall apart if moved), he knows the community will find him.
“If you look up boiled peanuts, you’ll see me all over,” he said.” That’s 35-plus years working at this. My customers are great. They’re my whole life. I have customers who were kids, and now they’re bringing their kids to my trailer.”
Health and hope
Grainger said his declining health adds to the hardships his business is facing. In need of a new kidney, he starts dialysis treatments just after 6 a.m. on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. And Mondays and Wednesdays are blocked out for doctors’ appointments, leaving only Fridays and Sundays for his peanut business.
“I just can’t be in two places at one time,” Grainger said. “After dialysis, I have enough strength to get home, about three miles away, and I have to take a nap. … I used to put in 50 hours a week, four days a week. I can’t do that anymore. If I get a new kidney, maybe I can get back to that.
“But now, it’s all l can do to lift the buckets for these peanuts,” he added. “I used to sling them around like they were nothing. They run about 40 pounds when full. It just ain’t like it used to be. But, you know, I’m still lucky that I can get out here two days a week. There are a lot of dialysis patients who can’t work at all.”
Despite the hard work getting harder — “It ain’t that bad,” Grainger said — he said even if he didn’t need to, he would still get out and sell his peanuts.
“I’d probably still do it,” he said after thinking for a while about the question. “I’d do it for my customers. They’re my whole life. They keep me going.”




