South Carolina

My brother married while we were still undergraduates. His wife was a cute, pixie graduate student from Davenport, Iowa with flashing brown eyes and about as opinionated as the rest of us were. She was, as was the fashion in the early sixties of those of us tasting the heady life of academia, quite liberal. She found many of the things here in the deep south barbaric. One of the things she said during one of our early conversations was that she could never, ever live in South Carolina or Mississippi. Now this statement did not particularly bother me because at that time I had never been in either state and my knowledge of the two states was limited to what I knew about them historically and from the CBS evening news. We, of course, had no other networks available either at our parent's house or on campus. Several years later, after I had driven through South Carolina a couple of times and spent several days there, I had a little clearer view of the state.

While we were in Japan, we had a new couple from Utah join the Inspector General team. Since they were young and were assigned to Green Park Housing those of us who also lived there were responsible for welcoming them, inviting them to dinner, and helping them settle in. The several couples of us gathered for the dinner and of course the conversation was lively as usual. Charlotte, the newcomer, was sharing her background and opinions. It seems that she had gone to the University of South Carolina as a drama major and was an expert on all things southern. She made the statement that all Southerners were decadent and that education in the south was nonexistent. Those of us, the majority of the group, of course took issue with her statement, but kept our true reactions somewhat muted, being southern and having been reared to mind our manners. We did wonder why she would have remained at some hick college to get her degree if it were so bad, but did not engage her in any lengthy debate over the issue.

South Carolina still gets a little of this treatment. People are still snickering about the governor and his mistress from Argentina. Of course there are enough scandals above the Mason Dixon line to balance out whatever ridiculousness we may find in the South Carolina state house.

Anyway, my knowledge of South Carolina and my experiences in South Carolina have vastly increased since I defended her honor to Charlotte back in 1971. At that time I had no idea that parts of my family had lived in South Carolina. My mother's Grandfather Jackson came from upstate South Carolina to Hamilton County Florida in 1848. Her Great Great Grandfather Law immigrated to America through Charleston sometime in the seventeen hundreds, coming from Barbados. He then went into Liberty County Georgia where the family lived until they settled in Hamilton County about as soon as Andrew Jackson cleared the natives out.

Out first trip to South Carolina came as Klep and I began our move from Valdosta to Tokyo in 1968. We had been married less than a year when we packed out our household goods and spent a month visiting and traveling. Klep spent a couple of years during his teens near Walterboro, South Carolina on a plantation where his dad worked as a herdsman in charge of the owner's prize Angus cattle. Klep loved the experience, but his mother never adapted to being away from the hills of east Tennessee. In addition to the changes in climate, the mosquitos were a bane on her existence. So, after a couple of years in the lowlands, they moved back near Rogersville where he finished high school. Anyway, he wanted to share the area with me, so we took a couple of days in late April. We toured Cypress Gardens and Middleton Plantation, and some other places. We drove over to Hilton Head which was in the early stages of development, and we had one particularly lovely luncheon looking out at the water near the Hilton Head bridge where we had shrimp Louis. We enjoyed the experience of drifting under moss laden trees with azaleas blooming all around us at Cypress Gardens. We marveled at the formal gardens and the English atmosphere of Middleton Gardens.

Years later we returned to the area with the boys, but we spent more time in motel swimming pools and at outlet shops on that trip than at gardens.

In the nineties we spent a lovely week in the historic district of Charleston. To use Pat Conroy's title, we spent a week South of Broad. Our morning walks took us around the battery. I spent my days browsing through antique stores on King Street, marveling at the prices, and at the old market watching the Gullah women weaving baskets and soaking in the atmosphere. We ate she crab soup and other good sea food, walked around, and listened for the bells on the hour from St. John's.

Now we find ourselves in South Carolina quite often because our youngest son and his family live in the upcountry. We have fallen in love with this region, the rolling hills, the pleasant weather most of the year, and the variety of activities which are there. Of course, for us, the main attraction are the two lovely little girls who call us Nana and Papa.

I wonder if Karen, my sister in law, ever changed her mind about South Carolina. I hope so. After all, her daughter did her pharmacy residency at the medical College of South Carolina in Charleston. In fact we had a lovely visit with her while she was there. I don't care if Charlotte Freeman changed her opinion. She isn't and never has been on my Christmas card list, anyway.