Toms River, New Jersey — James “Jimmy” Hughes, well known as a bartender at Klee’s Bar & Grill in Seaside Heights, has died.
He passed away suddenly, leaving family, friends, and the local community in shock. His sudden departure at a relatively young age has prompted an outpouring of grief along the Jersey Shore.
Hughes had long been a fixture behind the bar, known for his warm smile, friendly conversation, and willingness to listen. Regulars at Klee’s often said he could turn a strangers’ first drink into a meaningful memory.
Those closest to him describe a man deeply rooted in his community. He worked late nights, celebrated neighborhoods’ milestones, and stood by friends through hard times. In many ways, the bar’s life was his life.
Beyond his work, he was quietly generous. He often helped people cover their tabs, offered rides home after late nights, and gave advice to younger staff just beginning in hospitality. In a world of backroom deals, he chose to stay true to simple kindness.
His death was not due to foul play, police confirm. Officials say no suspicious circumstances were found, but investigations remain routine until all details are clear. Medical responders were called to his home late in the evening, but he was declared dead shortly afterwards.
News of his passing triggered immediate responses. At Klee’s Bar & Grill, his colleagues gathered to share stories, tears, and a round of the drinks he loved to serve. Patrons left flowers, handwritten notes, and quiet remembrances at the bar.
In Seaside Heights and beyond, social media filled with condolences. Neighbors and fellow bartenders recalled his laugh, his voice, and the seemingly small ways he lifted people’s days. He had that gift—to make regular nights feel memorable.
His family confirmed he is survived by close relatives, though they’ve asked for privacy as they make funeral arrangements. Later this week, the community expects a public memorial where people can celebrate his life, gather in solidarity, and raise a glass in his honor.
As Toms River and Seaside Heights mourn, they remember more than a bartender: a friend, a presence in low hours, someone whose genuine concern for others made him a kind of quiet hero. In his absence, many feel the weight of loss—and the warmth of all the nights he made better.
