Clarence A. (Trip) Barnes 3rd, the Vineyard’s famed raconteur whose life resembled a tall tale that stretched from growing up on Park avenue in New York City to decades running Clarence A. Barnes Moving and Storage, died on Sept. 1 at the age of 83.
He died peacefully at his home in West Tisbury, his son Mike Barnes confirmed.
On an Island of characters, Trip, as everyone called him, towered above them all, literally and figuratively. He was a big man with a big personality and perhaps an even bigger heart. At one point during summers there was hardly a fundraiser he didn’t host, using his skills as an auctioneer with boundless energy — and no boundaries — to raise money for any number of essential Island causes, many of which he started himself.
“We have Trip to thank for quietly taking care of so many Vineyarders who might have been down on their luck,” said Emily Bramhall, during the 2018 ceremony for Mr. Barnes’ Creative Living Award. “We have Trip to thank for the ice arena, for Vineyard House. Wherever you look, chances are very good that Trip has been behind the scenes getting the important work done.”
At that same event, Chris Scott, former president of the Vineyard Preservation Trust, told the story about how Mr. Barnes decided to sell well-known painter Ray Ellis’s tie at the end of an auction.
“Ray would take his clothes off,” Mr. Scott said. “And the crowd would go nuts as Trip sold them. Trip had him down to his skivvies, all sweaty and naked, and the crowd was packing up, but then Trip said we should auction his tie. So he started the bidding at $25, and then $50, and then a guy in the back says, ‘I’ll give you 150. Thousand.’ So Trip says, ‘We’ve got $150,000 for the tie. Do I hear $160,000?’”
The legend of Trip Barnes begins on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, where he grew up attending fancy prep schools, until he became a teenager and decided a Vineyard life suited him better.
In a 2015 interview with the Vineyard Gazette, Mr. Barnes recalled wanting to drop out of the Trinity School, a private preparatory high school in Manhattan, telling his father he hated it.
“Trip, don’t tell your mom I said this, but do what you want to do, but try to be the best at it,” he recalled his father saying. “If you want to be a milkman, be the very best one you can be. Be the best truck driver you can be.”
He took his father’s words to heart and moved to the Vineyard, where his family had roots in Oak Bluffs and Chappaquiddick going back to the mid-1800s. He got a job at a dairy farm and then for Carroll’s Trucking.
Driving trucks, it turned out, suited him well and he made it is life’s work. For many Vineyarders, Clarence A. Barnes Moving and Storage became an integral part of their introduction to the Vineyard, as Trip helped pack up their lives from all over the country so they too could set down roots on the Island.
“I’ve moved everything and everyone, groceries to the Island, art across the country, fish to New Bedford,” he said in the 2015 interview. “What can I say? I like going places, moving people.”
And he always did it his way, not necessarily conforming to the rules, or even the rule of law.
“One family needed to get a piano out of their apartment on Fifth avenue, but had renovated the apartment since their piano had been moved in,” he remembered in the 2015 interview. “We had to lower it out of a third story window, me sitting on the piano on the way down to make sure that it didn’t smash a window or crash into the brick walls. The police were very nice and looked the other way on that one. Looking back, I think they just wanted me out of the city.”
Mr. Barnes gave up drinking in 1989.
“I drank like a fish when I was seventeen,” he said in a 2017 interview with the Martha’s Vineyard Magazine. He went to Edgehill, an alcohol treatment center in Rhode Island at that time. “It worked. I went to ninety-six A.A. meetings in ninety days. I did everything you’re supposed to do. I really overdid it when I got started – but I got started.”
Then, in typical Trip style, he reached back to help others in the same situation.
“There’d been something called the Captain Silver House that had been a sober house, but it was long gone,” he recalled in the Martha’s Vineyard Magazine interview. “I knew the Island really needed one, so I started one over my office. Then one day I had a call about someone who was willing to put money into an Island sober house because her son was an alcoholic who needed help and she had money that could provide the help. We ended up getting $300,000 for a house in Eastville in the early ’90s. I got together a couple of alcoholics to help clean up the place. We had 10 rooms and we decided to call it Vineyard House.”
In addition to starting Vineyard House and continuing to raise money for the organization throughout his life, Mr. Barnes was a longtime member of the Martha’s Vineyard Commission, and a key figure in the Vineyard Preservation Trust, Hospice of Martha’s Vineyard, the ice arena, among many other essential Island institutions. He also took over auctioneering duties for the Martha’s Vineyard Community Services’ Possible Dreams fundraiser after Art Buchwald stepped down.
“I’m just passing on something I learned from someone else,” he said in a 2002 interview with the Gazette. “I have no formal education. But I’ve read a lot and learned from other people. If you’re nice to people, they learn to be nice back.”
He also was instrumental in the Martha’s Vineyard Agricultural Society, and when giving out scholarships to Vineyard high school students during class night at the Tabernacle, he often brought a live pig with him to the podium, in part to remind everyone of the Island’s agrarian roots, and because it was a lot of fun.
“I never wanted to live anywhere else,” he said of his Vineyard life. “I’ve been to every state in the Union except Hawaii probably five times and maybe more, and they’re all fun to visit, and I’ve even wanted to go back to one or two of them, but this is where I live and I love the people here and I love the Island.”
Mr. Barnes is survived by his partner Joan, sister Susan, daughter Elizabeth and sons Mike and Clarence the 4th, and grandchildren Harrison, Henry and Ian.
Services and a celebration of life are planned for sometime in October.
This article appears in September 4, 2026.
Deepest condolences to his family. Trip was of a generation that does not exist anymore. He did so much good and always with a smile. Most described him as a character, I think he was actually a true gentleman the island lost a good one.
The photograph alone, says it all…
What Trip stories we have — showing up in a veritable blizzard in ’96 to move us when we just assumed the move would be canceled. We’re sitting and eating breakfast and my dad, always a kidder, says “Oh there’s Trip.” My mom, having learned her lesson about my dad’s jokes, replies “Oh right.” But there he was, just the top of his hat visible over the snow trudging up the walk. Reliable, fun, and always up for an adventure. He was so kind to me as a cub reporter for this paper. May his memory be a blessing and his family take comfort in all the wonderful stories I am sure are pouring in.
Those of us who have crossed paths with Trippy are indeed fortunate for the experience, and for the many memories that will continue to bring smiles to our faces and continue to make us laugh . Such a compassionate, hilariously funny, gentle, and caring man. He was one of a kind, enriched our lives, and will be missed..
Trip and I crossed paths many times over the years. He went to Trinity, I went to Collegiate, also in Manhattan. Both our families had long island histories. He was on Chappy when I was at MVRHS. When I think of island projects, it has always been “I wonder if Tripp could help”. With an entire life-time of history, it is hard to imagine the island without him.
God bless you, now and forever. Thank you, old boy, from the bottom of my heart.
Moved my parents and brother up here in the 70’s in the school buses. Moved my family and me up here in 2015. We got the truck with the palm trees.
Sad to hear this news. Although my sisters knew Trip well, I always got a kick hearing their tales of him. Fond memories hanging out in the cramped attic quarters above Trip’s office so long ago and fascinated by all those treasures he kept out back… A life well-lived and trod. Rest easy
An island icon if ever there was one. Farewell dear Trip.
Sad to hear this news. Although my sisters knew Trip well, I always enjoyed hearing their tales of him. I remember hanging out often in those cramped attic quarters above Trip’s office so long ago now and being fascinated by all those treasures he kept out back. A life well-lived and trod. Rest easy
Trip became my first friend on MV, 40+ years ago. How lucky. Such a great guy. Such a huge loss. My deep condolences to his family.
We shall miss you, your stories and sense of humor. See you on the other side!
I was seven when we finally moved from West Tisbury to our house at the foot of the hill on Quammox Road, just down from the Barnes. I wandered all over the place unsupervised, meeting the interesting Clare Barnes, Trip’s father, drinking Moxie on the beach. Soon we became friends with the young ‘Trippy’, and through all the years in between , we used to meet for brief chats whenever i visited the Vineyard. He was ‘his own brand’, and I loved him for that. A playmate fitting neatly between me and my brother John, enjoying many outrageous adventures as we played without adult interference all over Chappaquiddick. it is saddening and daunting to witness the demise of my generation, wondering when my own turn will come. I enjoyed Trip and his family, conversations, mischief, rides in an antique car with claxon horn, the older grandfatheer who allowed me to climb aboard, indulged my conversations about anything and everything. A very sad news, indeed, and I send my condolences to Susan, whom I remember as that exciting thing – a ‘teenager’, and all the rest of the family.
David and Roman, started The Firewood Boys, 40 years ago, in 1986, That is when I first met Trip. To say he was colorful is an understatement. He was my mentor. Driving an 18 wheeler big rig, he taught me how to beat the Steamship Authority at their own game to save $$$’s. He let me sleep many a night up in the bunkhouse. When I needed a vehicle on-island, he told me to bring a rachet to play rachet registry and take whatever junker I needed. He once asked if he could borrow a semi trailer of mine for a month. Of course I let him. Trip returned it 2 years later. Who cared, it was Trip. RIP my friend.
I had the pleasure of working for Trip during the summers of 92-95. What an education I received! A remarkable man, a remarkable life. Rest in Peace Trip, my old friend.
Trip was an Instant Classic. David & Roman the Firewood boys are forever in his debt. He provided excellent advice and a place to stay. He was generous, gregarious and our idol.
I didn’t personally know Trip, but in the past he moved my parents’ belongings from one home to another on the Vineyard on two separate occasions. Years ago I remember seeing his moving van in Washington, D.C. – I said to myself, “wow – Trip Barnes is everywhere!”
Trip was my nephew, and he was 3 years older than me! His grandfather was my father (Clarence Barnes Sr.), believe it or not, his father (Clarence Barnes Jr,) my half brother! He became known as Trip, for triple, thé 3rd C.A.Barnes.
I adored the guy, we’d been best friends since our youth and he regaled me with stories, as he did with all those he knew. And there were an abundance! We thank him for his warm heart, kindness, generosity, humor, and spirit. God love him.
He will be sorely missed by all of us who crossed his path.
A legend in my mind, from the many stories Trip and my Dad shared. I’m going to miss him greatly.
My deepest condolences to Elizabeth, Mike, Clarence and Joan.
Trip moved me from the Island in the late 70’s. To save me money, Trip put all the furniture and boxes to the front of his truck and packed the rest of the truck with produce he had to deliver off-Island.
He was a unique and kind gentleman.
Everyone who knew Trip has a story to tell. Here is mine. When I asked Trip if he would move our winter quarters from Connecticut to Lakeland, FL. I stupidly asked if he knew where Lakeland was. He replied that he spent a winter and spring at his Grandfather’s house in Lakeland after being dismissed from school around age 15. His Grandfather apparently was in the citrus business. His Grandfather asked him if he would like to get his driver’s license (in Floria you could get a farm license before you got a regular license). When he got back to Chappy in the summer he got a job at the MV Cooperative Dairy of which my Grandfather, Pete Pinney was President. Trip started on the bottling line. When Grandpa Pinney needed someone to drive a delivery truck up-island he saw Trip on the line and asked him if he had a driver’s license. Referring to his Florida farm license, Trip said yes he did. And that was the start of his trucking career. We are just one of many families to whom was special.
Our sincerest condolences to all who loved and befriended this towering and gregarious man. May they find peace in great memories and reflections of such an impactful man and his impactful life. May he rest well.
An Island living legend enters eternity..and will, no doubt, happy up the place… Farewell
When we moved from NYC to MV in 2013, of course we hired Trip. He showed up in the iconic truck with two Serbian behemoths. It was a blazing hot day in late May.
We spent the day helping fill the truck, dropping the vacuum sealed “space bags” of clothing out the third floor window. At one point he had to move the truck so another truck could get down the one way street. When he reparked it, he got into contact with a parked car somehow, and when it was time for him to leave, some doodad on the truck shattered the driver’s side window on the parked car. He left a note with the number to call and “I have insurance and I am sorry.”
Sure enough, he drives away and an hour later here comes someone’s tough Russian grandma, and she was UPSET! NYPD were called, and the officer calls the number. And on speaker phone I hear the cop-lady cop-ask to speak with Trip. And his voice saying “sorry he’s off island” and the cop says “he’s what?”
I’m sure he made the Russian grandma whole. It was such an awesome day. I knew him slightly before that day. And I got to work with him all day. And my wife got a fire engine red sunburn watching the truck and our boxes on the sidewalk. I saw and chatted with him plenty after that, mostly at places I worked. I thought about running for MVC when I thought he was retiring, but then he did not retire, and I was like “Why would I want to run against Trip? He’s good at it and he’s well, a trip.”
See you, space cowboy.
My boss from the summer of 1985 died yesterday at the age of 83.
His name was Trip Barnes, and in the nearly forty years since, I have never met another human being quite like him.
Trip, the owner of Barnes Moving was proud of his business, though calling it a furniture moving company doesn’t quite capture it.
It was part moving company, part junkyard, part halfway house, part mechanical shop and part traveling circus.
The headquarters in Vineyard Haven looked like Sanford and Son had opened a branch office on Martha’s Vineyard. Old trucks, tools, furniture, machinery and assorted objects whose original purposes had long since been forgotten.
And people. Especially people.
Trip had a habit of giving jobs to people who were down on their luck. People who had made mistakes. People who needed somebody to believe in them. Trip usually volunteered for the job.
One summer employee was Randy, whom Trip hired shortly after Randy got out of prison.
“He’s got something good in his eyes,” Trip told me. “He needs another chance.”
Then came the more practical explanation: “And he knows how to fix school bus engines.”
This mattered because Barnes Moving trucks were essentially retired school buses with new career aspirations.
Randy was missing four teeth, had dark hair down to his belly button, wore pressed shirts and kept his shoes beautifully shined. I was confused.
One day Randy and I spent hours removing seats from the latest school bus to arrive on the lot. By the end of the day, Randy had given me a complete tutorial on how to survive prison should I ever find myself there.
You could not get that education at college.
Then there was license plate tag. Trip had apparently renewed the registrations on only four of his six vehicles.
The solution? Magnets. One legal license plate could be slapped onto whichever truck needed it that day.
This arrangement was made considerably more interesting by the fact that a police officer frequently sat directly across the street from Barnes Moving watching for speeders.
So several Barnes trucks might drive past him during the course of a day wearing the exact same license plate. Shhhh.
Trip also taught us summer grunts one important word: “Freddy.”
Freddy was the code word for “we just broke the customer’s furniture, don’t say anything, get it back to headquarters and Trip will fix it.”
And Trip usually did.
He had MacGyver-like skills and could repair almost anything.
Early that summer I asked when we got paid. “Kid, keep track of your hours. Live off your tips. I’ll settle with you at the end of the summer.”
This seemed reasonable until I got a closer look at Trip’s bookkeeping system, which appeared to consist largely of his memory.
By August, I had some doubts.
On my final day, I arrived with every hour neatly written on one sheet of paper. Trip looked it over. “Kid, get in the pickup. We’re going to get you paid.”
For the next three hours, we drove around Martha’s Vineyard.
Trip would pull into a driveway or stop at a store, leave the truck idling and tell me to stay put. A few minutes later he would return with a stack of cash and hand it to me.
After several stops he asked, “How much more do we need?” I told him. Off we went again.
Three hours later, I had been paid every dollar I was owed. In cash.
Finally, I asked why all these people owed him money. “I told them I’d bill them someday for work I did for them,” Trip said. Then he smiled. “Today happened to be bill collection day.”
Of course it did. That was the day I finally understood Trip.
He wasn’t really a businessman. Barnes Moving wasn’t really a moving company. It was simply the vehicle that allowed Trip to live the life he wanted to live.
A little commerce. A little chaos. A fair amount of tomfoolery. And an enormous amount of heart.
Trip taught me something that summer that has stayed with me ever since. Most people aren’t asking the world for very much. They want a chance. A chance to work. A chance to belong. A chance to show that the worst thing that ever happened to them doesn’t have to define the rest of their life.
Trip gave people that chance. He didn’t make a production out of it. No speeches. No plaques. No recognition.
He just kept opening the door.
My only regret is that I didn’t keep a journal that summer. I am convinced I would have an award-winning screenplay on my hands today.
Then again, maybe those stories were never meant to become a movie. Maybe they were simply meant to stay with those of us lucky enough to experience them.
Mine certainly did.
Rest in peace, Trip.
And somewhere, I hope the rotating license plate is still in circulation.
Thank you, Brad. I just read this aloud to my husband. Your words truly painted a most delightful picture of a true legend.
What a beautiful article. I didn’t know how much he did for the island community. We need more trips in the world
My parents and the Barnes were good friends from 1953. (I have a photo of them laughing over their newly purchased gravesites at the old Chappaquiddick cemetery.) Trip and my brother Vance were fast friends. With John Siegel,
they produced the weekly Chappy Chatter newsletter(25 cents). Trip and Vance had many adventures, mostly legal. Trip did not get on with his mother. After one altercation with her, Trip and Vance put her car up on blocks.
Trip was a legend in his own time.
Trip saved the day for me many times. He was a true super hero, no task was to big…nothing was impossible. He will be sadly missed.
Trip was a dear friend to my mother, Jeannie Goodman McIntosh. “Trippy” always made her laugh and helped when she needed it most. When Mom passed away, his kindness and help with her estate were above and beyond. He had a special place in our hearts. Rest In Peace, Love.
I remember Trip coming into the Ritz on a cold February night. He had a proposal for a room full of drunks. A free ride to California and one hundred dollars, all we had to do was unload the old school bus of furniture when we arrived. It sounded good until I pictured going over the Rockies in winter in a school bus severely overloaded, the uphills would be slow it was the downhills that worried me.
I mentioned the problem, ruined his sales pitch, he didn’t speak to me for awhile after.
He was a wonderful man, the island has lost another character.
Why is that story so easy to believe. It was 100% pure Trip.
To say Trippy was unique is an understatement. I worked for him in the early 80’s. I learned a lot from him and ended up in the relocation business for 35 years. Clarence IV was in Boston then. Judy, Michael and Elizabeth were there.
I remember people asking Trippy if he could do something for them. The answer was always (No Problem)
Rest in peace.
One of a kind. Trip did two way out of the ordinary moving jobs for me. I am on record of being his honorary Aunt. RIP.
Trippy, with whom I grew up with on Chappaquiddick, certainly left his mark on the lives of many and on our island as a whole. He was and remains a treasure. He was still telling tales right up until almost the end and I felt so honored to be there to hear them. You will be missed my friend, but will be held in my heart forever.
I have many fond memories of Clarence from our days working at the original Cronig’s back in the day. I worked on the night crew with Neal Stiller, Hugh Bradshaw, Jeff Cronig and many others unloading trucks and stocking shelves. Clarence drove the rig off-island to get the food and always returned to the store at night full of stories. He spent a lot of time at the Leeside playing bid whist waiting for the boat. Always ready with a smile and a story. A great guy. Condolences to the family. I will miss him too.
Trip and my brother Morgan Brown started the first garbage pick up service on Chappy.Trip was. 15
Morgan-16 he drove
They changed 2.50 a can
Trip personified what a true Islander is — his kindness and willingness to help was legendary — he was one of a kind — and the finest kind. Bon voyage Trippy — be at peace thank you for everything you gifted us all with!
I would hope Carroll’s Moving continues Trip’s distinctive green moving truck as iconic Island art, and memorial to a moving legend.
Trip was in one word amazing! He used to haul my antique purchases from the island to NY and would regale me with his thoughts on the architectural history of my Brooklyn House. May he Rest in Peace and Power. The island is lessened for his passing.
Didn’t really him but talked to him a couple of times. Sounds like what u see very little of on this island. A guy who would help people
I first met trip back in our high school years. He was attending Trinity boys school in Manhattan, and I was at the Hewitt school for girls. My best friend at that school was Margie Street, now Wheeler. She introduced me to Trip, having known him on the Vineyard. Both her family and his had strong ties to the Island.
After school a number of the kids from the girls’ and boys’ schools would meet up on 86th St and Madison Ave. Trinity was on the west side of Manhattan and so the boys who lived on the east side would take a bus across Central Park to this impromptu after school gathering place, where we would all hang out for a bit at one of two coffee shops in the area, driving other customers crazy I’m sure, before heading home.
After I moved to the Vineyard in 1971, introduced to it, again by my friend Margie, I always enjoyed running into Trip, and sharing an enjoyable conversation about things happening on the Island and also reminiscing about our early days in NYC. A couple of years ago when Margie was back here for a visit, we went over to see Trip at his house, and spend a wonderful afternoon with him talking about the old days back in NYC, and also their early days on the Vineyard.
In the fall of 1986, after my mother received a diagnosis of lung cancer, she ended up rushing up from Florida to the Island and getting an apartment here to be closer to my sister Heather and me. After a couple of months she realized that she was not going to be able to get back to her apartment in Miami, and indicated she wanted to get her apartment packed up and moved to the Island.I contacted Trip, and explain the situation. He quickly sent some of his guys down to Miami to pack up my mother’s apartment. They had a big job ahead of them because, she had left quickly, so there had been no prior preparation for movers at that point. They reported that the radio was on, and it looked like someone had just stepped out for a minute. They packed everything up and brought it up to the Vineyard.
Neither my sister nor I had a place to put all these boxes and furniture. Trip suggested putting it all in one of his school buses and then he would drive it down to a field next door to my house. I wasn’t sure if it was even possible to get a large school bus down the mile-long bumpy dirt road we live on which was in terrible repair at the time, but he did it. My mother had hoped to be able to go through all her things herself, but by then she didn’t have the strength to do that, and died about a month later. I was concerned about keeping the bus for too long and called Trip to see if we could rent it because it was midwinter and it was going to be very difficult to spend a lot of time out in the cold in the bus sorting things, and neither of us were in a very good emotional state. He told us just keep the bus and take as long as we needed. I have never forgotten his very kind, and thoughtful gesture toward us at such a difficult time.
He was definitely one of a kind, and such a large presence in so many areas on the Island. I will miss running into him and sharing an interesting, and often fun, conversation with him. Loss is a terrible thing and my thoughts are with Joan , his family, and close friends.
My dad still loves sharing the story Trip told him about moving a house in the wee hours of the night to avoid “regulations”. Condolences to my old friend Mike and the whole Barnes family. Trip moved my parents on and off the island years ago – still have a box or two labeled Barnes Moving. RIP to this island legend.
Who, on the Vineyard, didn’t know Trip Barnes. I spent the Summer of 1969 as the Head Bartender at the Harborside Inn. I got to know the many locals who enjoyed a beer or two (many), including myself. I returned to Edgartown in the Spring of 1972 and left in the Fall of 1977. I lived on Chappy year round for that wonderful 5 1/2 years on the Bird family property. Trippy Barns was quite a guy, and a true Vineyard icon.
I am sure he was loved by everyone who knew him. May he Rest in Peace.
Great Guy! Worked with him to haul Hay an Animals to an from MV !
I was so glad to have run into Trip this past spring during a visit. I had not seen him in many years, and as always it was a pleasure to reconnect with him. The Island has lost a unique thread of the fabric of its life.
Twenty years ago, Trip went out of his way to deliver couches for the early days of the MVFF. His rates were more than fair; he supported our efforts and wanted to help us. And when we were working on getting the Stillpoint project through the permitting process, Trip, in his role as MVC Commissioner, gave a little speech that shifted the energy in the room and helped us to get our permit. There were other ways he helped me too. My life is richer for having known him. Blessings Trip. Thank you sir.