Azalea Magazine Winter 2016

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PHOTO ESSAY: RURAL LOWCOUNTRY / CAST-IRON COBBLERS / MOONLIT MEMORIES BADHAM HOUSE / UPPER DORCHESTER CO. HISTORICAL SOCIETY / M&G CASSANDRA KING BULLS BAY SALTWORKS / ELLA & OLLIE'S ON EDISTO / FRANCIS BEIDLER FOREST

Living History Inside the Koger Murray Carroll House

Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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A Z A L E A

M A G A Z I N E

F E AT U R E S WINTER 2016

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58 W HE R E THE S I D EW AL K EN D S

From marsh creeks and farmlands to black swamps and charming, weathered structures

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80 IRON CLAD COBBLERS

Three winter cobblers that are sure to please Hot Plate A bowl of Raspberry Tapioca Cobbler

THE BADHA M H O U SE

Herman and Harriet Halmon happily throw open the doors to the historic white mansion outside of St. George

MOONLIT M EM O RI ES Taking one last journey with my grandmother

Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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CONT ENT S

/ Winter 2016

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35

31

23

10 Editor’s Letter 14 Contributors FIELD GUIDE A brief look into our local culture 17 Author Pat Conroy 18 Q&A Cassandra King 20 Etiquette Gift Giving SOUTHERN LIFE 23 Southern Spotlight - Preservation 28 Southern Spotlight - Food 31 Southern Spotlight - Restoration 35 Southern Spotlight - Conservation 39 Southern Spotlight - Food

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COLUMNS 45 Natural Woman by Susan Frampton 49 Kids These Days by Tara Bailey

53 Life & Faith by Lili Hiser

49

17

O N T H E C O V E R : Inside the Koger Murray Carroll House / Photograph by Dottie Rizzo 10 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016

88 THE VILLAGE POET - Wintering


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EDITOR’S LETTER

A Rural View Some days, it seems as if cities get all of the attention. Between the news, movies, books, and television shows, the bright lights and bustling lifestyles prevalent in big cities seem omnipresent—and for good reason. Over 80% of the United States population lives in urban areas, surrounded by neighborhoods, restaurants, shops, and art, creating ever-evolving cultural hotspots all over the country. In rural areas, culture is less in flux than in cities—it is more rooted. These outlying areas are less affected by the winds of what is in vogue at any given moment, and remain constant no matter what is happening in the rest of the world. In this, our first Rural Issue, we wanted to document some of the sacred, unique communities of the Lowcountry that embrace a slower place as well as the special folks who are dedicated to their preservation, ensuring that they are not lost to time.

Will Rizzo Editor in Chief


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The Edisto Oyster Necklace

Will Rizzo Co-Publisher and Editor in Chief will@azaleamag.com Dottie Rizzo Co-Publisher and Managing Editor dottie@azaleamag.com Susan Frampton Senior Editor

DOTTIE LANGLEY

Jana Riley Senior Editor

ARTISAN CRAFTED JEWELRY

Charlie Sweeney Rachelle Cobb Copy Editors

dottiela ngle y.com

Lewis Frampton Distribution Manager Contributors Tara Bailey Virgil Bunao Elizabeth Donehue Susan Frampton Ellen Hyatt Lili Hiser Jana Riley Jason Wagener

Advertising Susie Wimberly susie@azaleamag.com 843.568.7830 Tina Zimmerman tina@azaleamag.com 843.276.5084 Subscribe *Available for $16.99 a year (4 Issues). Visit azaleamag.com for details. Azalea Magazine is published by

Azalea Magazine 114B E. Richardson Avenue Summerville, SC 29483 info@azaleamag.com www.azaleamag.com 843.478.7717

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AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016


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CONTRIBUTORS

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JANA RILEY / Writer

SUSAN FRAMPTON Writer

JASON WAGENER llustrator

LILI HISER Writer

Jana Riley is a writer and editor living in Summerville. Her current favorite hobbies include having the world explained to her by her two-year-old daughter, Forest, and sharing warm snuggles with new baby Oscar.

An accidental writer, Susan Frampton lives in Summerville, SC. Along with a fluctuating number of wiener dogs, chickens, turtles, snakes, and the occasional pig, her husband and family provide endless material for her musings on life, love, laughter. Her life is full of adventure and comedy; and some days she contemplates having wine with breakfast.

Jason started his illustrious art career when he won a coloring contest in third grade, subsequently entitling him proud owner of a Mickey Mouse dry erase board. He moved to the Lowcountry in 1990, before attended The Savannah College of Art and Design.

Lili was born in Charleston and raised in both the Lowcountry and Florida. She holds degrees from CSU and USC. She invested more than ten years of service in the non-profit/ higher education sector and many years as Communication Studies adjunct faculty. She and her husband enjoy re-experiencing life through the eyes of their young children.

AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016

TARA BAILEY Writer

Tara is a writer and editor for SCIWAY. net. She is a Palmetto State native and lives in Summerville with her husband and three daughters.


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About

About

CONROY

THE BOOK

Conroy attended The Citadel Military Academy in Charleston, South Carolina, where, as a student, he published his first book, The Boo, a tribute to a beloved teacher. After graduation, he took a job teaching underprivileged children in a one-room schoolhouse on Daufuskie Island off the South Carolina shore but, after a year, was fired for his unconventional teaching practices—such as his refusal to allow corporal punishment of his students. Conroy authored twelve books, and the movie adaptation of his novel The Prince of Tides was nominated for seven Academy Awards including Best Picture. Pat Conroy died from pancreatic cancer on March 4, 2016, at the age of 70. He is buried in St. Helena Memorial Garden, near the Penn Center on St. Helena Island. It is owned by the nearby Brick Baptist Church.

Literary Legend

A new volume of Pat Conroy's nonfiction and moving tributes to the beloved author

A Lowcountry Heart: Reflections on a Writing Life by Pat Conroy is a new nonfiction collection of letters, interviews, and magazine articles spanning Conroy’s long literary career, supplemented by touching pieces from the beloved author’s many friends. A Lowcountry Heart collects some of Conroy’s most charming pieces of short nonfiction. Ranging across diverse subjects such as favorite recent reads, the challenge of getting motivated to exercise, and processing the loss of dearly missed friends, Conroy’s lighthearted and eminently memorable pieces offer a unique window into the life of a true titan of Southern writing. In addition, A Lowcountry Heart also includes a beautiful introduction from his widow, the novelist Cassandra King, as well as his eulogy. This moving tribute is sure to be a cherished keepsake for any true Conroy fan and a lasting monument to one of the best-loved writers of contemporary American letters.

Featuring: A Lowcountry Heart: Reflections on a Writing Life by Pat Conroy pg. 17 / Q&A with author Cassandra King pg. 18 / Gift Giving Etiquette pg. 20

Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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"I’m a totally obnoxious Alabama football fan." What's one thing you've bought in the last five years that you couldn’t live without? My MAC computer. I love the little booger. What's one thing you've bought in the last five years that you could go the rest of your life without? A heavy wrap. It’s so hot here I never wear it.

Q& A

Cassandra King Bestselling Author & widow o f t h e l a te Pa t C o n r oy

What is your favorite thing about living in the Lowcountry? I suffer from an ailment called the ‘beauty disease,’ which causes you to yearn for beauty at all times. It’s incurable, but the Lowcountry is the best medicine available.

What is your favorite music? Bluegrass, hands down. Tell us about your latest novel. Moonrise is my latest novel, which was inspired by Daphne du Maurier’s classic gothic, Rebecca. Set in Highlands, NC, a new wife comes to her husband's summer estate in the hopes of being accepted by his close-knit group of family and friends. Instead, she finds suspicion, betrayal, and long-hidden secrets.

What is your dream job? My dream job is what I do, writing. I love it. Is there a motto that you live by? Yes. The motto I live by is “when the pupil is ready, a teacher appears." The universe teaches us everything we need to know about life, but we have to be open and ready to accept it. Who or what are you a fan of? I’m a totally obnoxious Alabama football fan. Coffee or tea? Tea, with a little milk and sugar. It’s my British genes.

What are you working on?

The book I’m working on now is a cookbook/memoir, one of my favorite genres. I love to read about food. Come to think about it, I love everything about food. AM

K I N G O F T H E R O A D See Cassandra King at these exclusive events: - Feb. 5: Speaker for 20th Annual Southern Author Series, Timrod Library, Summerville, SC; speaking at Bethany Methodist Church at 3:00 pm, followed by reception with book signing at the Timrod - Feb 12: Valentine’s Tea at Trident Technical College, 3:00-5:00 pm, ticketed event For more events, visit, http://cassandrakingconroy.com 20 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016


Gathering is always in season. This is Summers Corner. Where the best times are the ones spent with each other. Dorchester District Two schools. Beautiful architecture. And homes from the mid $200s–$400s. Models open daily. Homes available for quick move-in.

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DO: Make A List Give presents to the people you want to show your appreciation to, such as family and close friends. Put Thought Into Gifts The biggest mistake people make when approaching holiday gifts is to buy what they would like, rather than what the recipient would like. Take time to really think about the gift recipient’s personal interests, needs, wants, likes and dislikes.

ETIQUETTE

Present Day It’s that time again. Holiday season is officially underway, which means the hunt for the perfect present has begun. It’s a cliché, but as you flock to the stores searching for the perfect gifts for friends and family members, keep in mind that gift giving is ultimately about the spirit or thought behind the present. by Elizabeth Donehue

Here is a list of do’s and don’ts for gift giving this holiday season

Consider Presentation The best way to present a gift is always beautifully wrapped and in person.

D O N ' T:

Spend Above Your Means Gift giving is about being thoughtful and showing appreciation; it’s not about going into debt. Leave The Price Tag On It is not appropriate to show how much you spent on an item. Expect Anything In Return Giving is not an opportunity for quid pro quo. If the person reciprocates, that's wonderful. However, if the giving is onesided, be happy that you were the one doing the giving. After all, it is better to give than to receive, right? While December is the biggest gift-giving month, there are endless reasons to give gifts throughout the year. The purpose of giving gifts is to bring joy to both the giver and receiver, promote goodwill, and make for a closer relationship. As we count down the days until Christmas, as with any gift giving occasion, just remember it truly is the thought that counts. AM

“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” – Winston Churchill

ELIZABETH DONEHUE

Arbiter of social graces, with a heart for simple hospitality and a tendency for adventure, Elizabeth lives in Summerville with her husband Wesley, baby boy Harlowe, and yorkie Gucci.

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shown $250

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Originally designed for Civil War amputees, this “one-armed-man” is now most often used as a camp utensil―and conversation piece.

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Before running off to be a judge on Forged in Fire this past summer, Jason brought us these stylish rebar oyster shuckers. shown $80

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Southern L I F E & C U L T U R E from O U R L I T T L E S L I C E of T H E S O U T H Living History

An antique bed inside the Koger Murray Carroll House

Making History

The Upper Dorchester County Historical Society is preserving the past to share with those who are the future by Susan Frampton

Featuring: Making History pg. 23 / Ella and Ollie's pg. 28 / Down to the River pg. 31 / The Crown Jewel of South Carolina pg. 35 / Bulls Bay Saltworks pg. 39 / Columns

Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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Making History

A two-lane highway threads its way past pine forests and wideopen farmland, pausing at thick stands of hardwoods and dipping dangerously close to the inky black water of cypress swamps. While this particular road may be the most heavily traveled in the region, its characteristics are not unique, for such is the landscape of Upper Dorchester County and the pathways through it. At some time or another, most who live in Dorchester County will navigate this diverse countryside to St. George, a town that might seem the unlikely heart of the larger, lower body of the second-fastest growing county in South Carolina. As the county seat, the small community of St. George not only hosts the offices of county government, but also holds thousands of documents that remember the past, validate the present, and give license to the future of the region. But these items represent only a small part of the narrative of this historically significant area of South Carolina. Thousands more are tucked away in the attics and closets of local individuals, having been passed down through generations. Often these gems are lost to time, but Phyllis Hughes, President of Upper Dorchester County Historical Society (UDCHS) and Chair of the Dorchester County Archives and History Center’s Board of Directors, is not about to let that happen in her county. Hughes is a walking encyclopedia of Dorchester County history, and her extensive knowledge and passion for the subject weave little26 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016

known facts into stories that leave the listener hungry for more. In her distinctly Southern accent, Hughes reveals tales of the county, containing love and loss, murder, intrigue, politics, comedy, and tragedy into a storyline worthy of a blockbuster movie, often leading in with, “Y’all, wait till you hear this—you’re not going to believe…” Under her hands-on style of leadership and with the help of dedicated members and volunteers, history is being made available to the public through projects that are tangible testaments to the people, events, and accomplishments of Dorchester County. Dorchester County Archives and History Center At the old county courthouse at 101 Ridge Street in St. George, sawdust flies from whirring saws and power cords snake through a warren of rooms on the ground floor of the brick building. The center was chartered in March of 2014 and moved to the courthouse in May of 2015. As Hughes offers a walk-through of the progress being made on the soon-to-be-opened History Center, excitement for this project is palpable. “We’ll have a life formation sculpture of Arthur Middleton right here to greet everyone,” Hughes says, indicating the museum entrance. “He was a great American patriot and a signer of the Declaration of Independence, you know.” She leads the way past exhibits chronicling the history of the Kusso and Natchez Indian


Tribes merging to become the Edisto Indian Tribe and a case which will hold fossils of some of the oldest human remains found in the entire country. When the Dorchester County Archives and History Center opens on Saturday, January 28, 2017, visitors will find themselves totally immersed in the history of Dorchester County and transported from the earliest humans to the innovations that put the area on the map. The History Center will be home to dioramas depicting early life in Colonial Dorchester, to mannequins dressed in authentic uniforms of the day, to an exhibit exploring the African American culture centering around indigo and rice production, to displays addressing the influence of the early railroad in Dorchester County, and to rooms portraying snippets of real life in the parlors, stores, banks and even a glimpse of life in an early jail cell. “Every single room will have something that will shock and awe visitors,” Hughes declares. “We want every citizen to feel like this is theirs—because it is their history. We want to involve teachers and

History Lessons Phyliss Hughes, the DCAHC Board Chairman; the restored Koger Murray Carroll House; a painting in the archives room; a vintage document with wooden seal; Anne Irick reads a letter from her collection.

students, and we’re going to offer courses in how to properly record an oral history.” “Can you imagine the connection a 16-year-old will feel when they sit down and talk to the first black mayor, or hear the story of a senior citizen that lived through almost a century of changes? We want that to connect them and help build their interest in their community.” In June of 2015, Dorchester County Archives and History Center began the monumental task of digitizing tens of thousands of documents from both private and public collections. “We already have over 100,000 documents in this building alone,” says Christine Rice, Director and Archivist at the Center. “On a good day, with no interruptions and documents that are in good shape, I can digitize 400 to 500 documents.” One of the most significant collections was passed into the hands of Anne Irick through ancestors who placed them in a fire-proof trunk in the early 1800s. The key to the trunk was lost for many years, a cautionary tale for how easily timeless treasures can be lost. When the key was found, Irick was like a kid on Christmas morning. The Moorer-Murray Collection, as it is known, is an exhaustive anthology of a family that she quips, “Never threw anything away.” Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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Making History

Record Setting Clockwise: An antique organ at the Koger Murray Carroll House; Anne Irick looking through family records; a vintage record player in the Mercantile Store display

“They saved everything,” Irick explains as she looks over the thousands of tissue-thin documents, letters, and photos, some of which she took to be examined by Antique Road Show experts when they came to Charleston. “The family made lists of everything—from goats to furniture.” No one knows why the documents were all brought from the courthouse in Walterboro prior to the Civil War, but it was fortuitous since most records left behind were lost forever when the courthouse was burned during Sherman’s March to the Sea. Perhaps the most dramatic piece in the collection is a PreRevolutionary War land grant signed by Royal Governor Thomas Broughton. Written on skin, the document still holds the large wooden seal of the governor. “We hope that people will bring us their historical treasures,” Hughes says. “We don’t have to keep them. We will simply digitize and catalog them. We don’t have everything online yet, but I look forward to the day when our children will be able to have access to all of it.” “Our goal is to one day house the entire history of Dorchester County under one roof,” says Hughes. Without a doubt, they are off to an auspicious start. When the doors open in January, the History Center will play host to The Smithsonian Institute’s Traveling Exhibit, “The Way We Worked.” Adapted from the original exhibition and developed by the National Archives, the exhibit explores how work became such a central element in American culture by tracing the 28 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016

many changes that affected the workforce and work environments over the past 150 years and draws from the institution’s rich collections to tell this compelling story." The exhibit will be on display January 28 through March 12, 2017. Koger Murray Carroll House Standing at the corner of Wire Road and Quaker Road in Grover, SC (just outside St. George) is another impressive project of the Upper Dorchester County Historical Society. Known by the names of its different owners since its construction circa 1792, the Koger House is believed to be the oldest house still standing in Dorchester County. Having been largely uninhabited for over 25 years, the historic home built by Major Joseph Koger, the first sheriff of what was then South Carolina’s Colleton District, was gifted to the UDCHS by Mr. and Mrs. Fitzhugh Sweatman. Its restoration would require substantial funds and major work, but Hughes and the society members were determined to move forward with the preservation of this important structure.


With funding supplied by a small initial award in the form of a Transportation Enhancement Grant, the UDCHS was able to stabilize the foundation and roof of the building, declared by the SC Palmetto Trust to be an endangered historical property. Built along the stagecoach route and wagon road between Charleston and Augusta, the Georgian-style clapboard single house constructed of black cypress is a testament to meticulous craftsmanship, and its worn wood floors and woodwork tell the story of the thousands of feet that have passed through its doors. A lingering bloodstain on the floor of an upstairs bedroom adds an intriguing chapter. To help underwrite its restoration, the Historical Society “sold” each of the 9-over9 paned windows to donors, allowing them to honor or memorialize loved ones in a significant and lasting manner. Proceeds from the sale of several publications have gone toward the organization,s fundraising efforts, including The Diary of David Gavin, a painstakingly transcribed diary of a teacher, attorney, surveyor, estate manager, land speculator, and investor, who served in the South Carolina General Assembly from 1834-1843 and again after the Civil War in 1865-1866 and Memorial Stones Cemetery Inscriptions of Upper Dorchester South Carolina, a book that covers inscriptions from 138 cemeteries and has proven to be an invaluable tool for genealogists. “We opened a bank account with a zero balance to get this project started,” Hughes discloses. “Two individuals put $100 bills in the jar, and that’s what we started with.” The finished product is impressive and a must-see for all who live in Dorchester County. Hughes gets a bit emotional when describing the efforts made to bring the home back to life. “This house belongs to all of us—every citizen of Dorchester County. We just prayed that we did everything right while trying to restore it, and that those who come after us will continue to save it.” AM

For more information on membership and the work of the Upper Dorchester County Historical, visit www.scdchs.com For information on Dorchester County Archives and History Center, visit www.dca-hc.com or call (843) 563-0053.

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Fresh Catch Clockwise: The menu; owners Jackson Hatch and Brandon Rushing; a grass-fed beef burger with bacon jam; the sign designed by J Fletcher

SOUTHERNSPOTLIGHT Ella & Ollie's:Food

Spirit of the Island

When Hurricane Matthew blew ill winds through their newly opened restaurant, Ella & Ollie’s owners realized nothing can dampen the unique spirit of the Edisto Island community by Susan Frampton

The very name conjures up an image of good friends, and it couldn’t be more on point. Ella and Ollie go way back—well, as far back as you can go when you’re both only a little over a year old. And when your dads are the coowners of the greatest thing to hit Edisto Island since sunshine and fresh air, you spend so much time together that you feel a little bit like family. That’s exactly the vibe that Jackson Hatch and Brandon Rushing, two young veterans of the restaurant business were looking for when they opened Ella & Ollie’s, the seafooddriven restaurant on Edisto they named for their young children. With nationally acclaimed Chef Phillip Bardin also on board as a partner and consultant, the culinary triumvirate created a fine dining experience equal to any in downtown Charleston that captures the casually elegant atmosphere of the iconic seaside community.

before my dad would come pick me up. I just loved getting to know all the people, and I was always comfortable being in and out of the kitchen.”

A native of Edisto Island, Hatch, the restaurant’s general manager, was born into the food and beverage business. “My mom was bar manager at Dockside when I was growing up,” he says. “I’d do my homework at the bar, and visit with the early patrons

Executive Chef Brandon Rushing came to the island from Washington State for an internship under Chef Bardin at the legendary Old Post Office Restaurant, where he later became sous chef. “I came for ten weeks and never left,” he says of his immediate attraction

30 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016

He would leave the island to go to school and later to work in Charleston’s growing culinary industry. Having held positions from dishwasher to front of the house, he knew he could never sit behind a desk. He was on the opening team for Charleston’s acclaimed Butcher and Bee restaurant, but still felt himself being drawn back.

to the Lowcountry. The Edisto Island girl he met, and later married, may have had something to do with that attraction, but once ensconced in the community he knew this was where he belonged. Though he also found himself working in Charleston, lastly as chef de cuisine for Blossom Restaurant, he too felt the pull of the island. “There’s just no other place on earth like it.” When the two met, they talked about opening a restaurant together. But they admit that they said they would never do it on Edisto. “We knew the seasonality would make it difficult, and that the labor pool we would have to draw from would present a challenge.” Finally, they succumbed to the inevitable, and plans for their Edisto Island business fell into place. The restaurant opened to rave reviews, but some twenty days later, a hurricane named


Matthew showed up without a reservation. “We never imagined that in our first month we’d be closed and filing our insurance forms,” says Hatch. But it was amidst the calamity that followed the storm that they realized how lucky they were to have chosen the location of the tightly-knit community. “People here are so generous and so genuinely nice,” Rushing says. “They really care. There were people who came and helped us out, with no agenda other than wanting to lend a hand, and our employees have been incredible. Our main concern was putting them back to work—we spend a huge percentage of our time together. They are like our family now, and we know they have families to take care of.” Thirty days after Matthew blew across the island, the restaurant has reopened for lunch, and as the first guests stick their heads in the door to inquire “Are you open?” the answer is a resounding “Yes!” Though the restaurant boasts an impressive space for special events, it is the warmth of the bar and dining area that encourages guests to linger over its locally-sourced dishes. Reclaimed wood lines the walls of the back bar, and intricate lightening-strike designs in the hand-hewn pine bar-top invite conversation among old friends and new. Starter plates of fried green tomatoes with bacon jam and crispy quail over hoe cakes begin to emerge from the kitchen. It is obvious that the crowd has been missing these delicacies over the past month and is anxious to revisit the distinctive flavors of Ella and Ollie’s. When the aroma of the Brasstown beef of the E&O Burger begins to waft through the air, a collective sigh of contentment can be heard in the room. Butter poached lobster rolls, shrimp and grits, and roasted duck are among the favorites. The smiles on Rushing's and Hatch’s faces say it all. This is the sound of home for the young entrepreneurs. Knowing that their children will grow up amidst the family and friends of this community makes all the challenges they have encountered a distant memory. The storm has passed, and the sun shines down on a new day for Edisto Island and Ella & Ollie’s. AM Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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HOLIDAY LIGHTS & DRIVING TOUR

NOVEMBER 25 TO DECEMBER 30 6:00 to 9:30 p.m. daily (closed Dec. 24-25)

Santee Cooper HQ and Old Santee Canal Park | Moncks Corner, S.C.

HOL I DAY FA I R S Friday thru Sunday Nov. 25 – Dec. 18

W W W.C E LE B R ATE TH E S E A SO N .O R G


Before

The Great Escape The Davis' were able to save most of the original architectural elements; the entrance was moved to the side of the structure and a porch was added.

SOUTHERNSPOTLIGHT Edisto River Cottages: Restoration

Down to the River

There is a special sense of peace to be found at Shelly and Nels Davis’ Edisto River Cottages by Susan Frampton

When Shelly Davis was growing up in Arkansas, her grandparents lived in one of those houses—the ones that are never empty and always brimming with the lively laughter of family, friends, and neighbors. It was where everyone gathered for Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and where there always seemed to be room for everyone–no matter how many showed up.

made their home in town for many years, they both felt the pull of the country. Moving to the Ridgeville area five years ago felt a lot like coming home, and the proximity to the Edisto River was an added bonus.

When they moved to the mountains, her grandparents built a series of small buildings. “One was the kitchen, then there were the sleeping porches, the eating area, and yes,” Davis laughs, “the outhouse.” She filed the concept away in the back of her mind, holding special memories of the happy times spent in the fresh air of the country with her Grandma and Grandpa Brown.

Both Shelly and Nels like to work with their hands, and it wasn’t long before they were adding a room onto their home for Shelly’s son and working on other projects. When a parcel of land nearby only one-half mile from the river caught their eye, Shelly’s imagination took her back to the small buildings her grandparents had built in the mountains. Soon, they found themselves with plans for the vacation rental business they call Edisto River Cottages on the drawing board, and it wasn’t long before The Brown Cottage

Nels Davis grew up with a similar love of the outdoors, and though he and Shelly

“In the Lowcountry,” Shelly muses, “we’re often so focused on the coast and the beaches that we forget we have these beautiful rivers.”

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The Dorchester County Archives & History Center was chartered in 2014 and is located in the former courthouse in St. George, the County Seat of Dorchester County. To date, The Archives has collected over 100,000 documents, including original documents dating back to the 1600s, maps, photo collections and early newspapers—closing the gaps of the history lost during the Civil War. The county finally has a place to go to celebrate the history of Dorchester County. The DCAHC is committed to preserving today for tomorrow.

MUSEUM EVENTS PERMANENT EXHIBITS

TEMPORARY EXHIBITS

• Arthur Middleton (life form) Signer of the Declaration of Independence Middleton Place History

• The Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibit, The Way We Worked, is sponsored by the S.C. Humanities Council. The DCA & HC was chosen to host the exhibit first. January 28 - March 12, 2017

• 1600-1700 Native American Exhibit Includes Wigwam, artifacts and history of Kusso - Natchez - Edisto Tribes • Geology Exhibit Features a Graphic Design Wall of a Local Cement Quarry - featuring layers of earth over a mile in depth with images and fossils of marine life and mammals that once existed in Dorchester Co. • Natural History Exhibit Featuring the wildlife of Four Holes Swamp • 1700-1800 Colonial/Plantation Exhibit Featuring a diorama of Colonial Dorchester (1696-1750) Revolutionary Period Uniform Display Plantation Parlor African American Contribution • 1800-1900 Railroad Diorama - Featuring St. George, Badham and Reevesville Stations, Badham Sawmill Early Industry, Creation of Dorchester County (1897) • 1900-1940 Early Main Street General Delivery Post Office - Doctors - Drug Store Mercantile Store - Jail - Quilt/Sewing Room One Room Schoolhouse

Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday-Friday Thursday (Extended Hours) Saturdays

• Museum Special Events: Every Thursday from 5:00PM 7:00PM the center will host special guests: Portrayal of Arthur Middleton (Signer of the Declaration of Independence) Colonial Dorchester Historian Native American Chief Fossil Collectors/History Portrayal of an Indian Trader Gullah History Artists Walk Authors-Book Signings Railroad Historian • Saturdays: Every Saturday from 10AM - 2:00 PM a "Market Place" will be set up on the front lawn. Homemade Baked Goods Blacksmith Demonstration Sweet Grass Basket Makers Other Cultural Exhibitors • Beginning on February 4, 2017, the historic Koger House (ca 1780s) will be open to the public. Dates and times TBA. Please check out our website for updated information.

For more information, call Christine Rice, Director, 843-563-0053 or visit dca-hc.com

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8:30AM - 4:00 PM 8:30AM - 7:00 PM 10 AM - 2:00 PM


was finished. Its rustic, woodsy style paid homage to her grandparents, and it was to their memory that the cottage was dedicated. When an abandoned building in Jedburg caught their eye, they made a few calls to track down the owner. When they located her, Mrs. Muckenfuss agreed to give them the structure, with the caveat that they had to remove it from the property. They knew little about the building, except that it had been a thrift store for many years. “We knew it would be a process. We had to find a way to shore it up so that it could be moved, take off the roof and build a wall down the center, and then find someone willing to move it from Jedburg to Ridgeville.” But the pieces gradually fell into place, and once again the Davises found themselves up to their elbows in a new project. There were things that had to be undone before new work could be done in the structure that had never had plumbing, heat, or air conditioning. Floors were stripped, siding removed, and insulation installed–and they loved every minute of it. “I just had a feeling about this house. My initial plan was to give it a coastal theme, but that didn’t seem right. Instead, I left everything as natural as possible, and it seemed to bring a peaceful feeling to the space.” It wasn’t until Mrs. Muckenfuss attended the dedication of the restored building that she revealed the structure had once housed the original Summerville Presbyterian Church. Since that time, the Davises have even met

Home Away From Home In the bedroom, the Davis' made good use of vintage doors; a view from the living room; a bright, modern kitchen; Nels and Shelly Davis, the dining room is fit for a feast.

individuals who actually attended church in the building. A beautiful stained glass window they found in an antique store and added to the décor seems to offer a blessing to all who visit. Only 12 miles from Summerville and 35 miles from Charleston, the cottages provide respite from the hustle and bustle of town. The quiet alone is a priceless amenity. With their projects now finished, Shelly and Nels can now enjoy the people who come to stay in the cottages, and they have made new friends from all over the world. Though they do not have a big family nearby to help them enjoy the bucolic location, Shelly feels that Edisto River Cottages

are a way of continuing the traditions of her childhood. She gets a bit emotional when she speaks of the tranquility here. “I sometimes find myself humming that song Allison Krauss sings about going down to the river to pray when I spend time here.” As I went down in the river to pray, studying about that good old way, And who shall wear the starry crown? Good Lord, show me the way! O sinners, let's go down, let's go down, come on down, O sinners, let's go down, down in the river to pray.

“I know it would have made my grandparents happy to see what we’ve done here. I know without a doubt, they’d just love it.”AM For more information, visit edistorivercottages.com Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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Established in 1851 as a sea island cotton plantation, McLeod has borne witness to some of the most significant periods of American history. Today, McLeod is a 37-acre site significant for its meticulously preserved heritage and stories of all who lived and worked there. The worn dirt paths lead visitors through grand oaks to places walked by generations of people who transitioned to freedom. Visit McLeod to experience inclusive history through self-guided and interpretive tours.

UPCOMING EVENTS December 17th

January 14th & 28th

February 11th & 25th

Unveiling McLeod: Christmas at the Plantation

Unveiling McLeod: Radical Reconstruction at McLeod

Unveiling McLeod: Messages in the Architecture

Opens Tuesdays - Sundays 9 a.m. - 4 p.m. Admission: $10 ages 13 & up $6 ages 3-12

McLeod Plantation Historic Site 325 Country Club Drive, Charleston 843-762-9514 www.mcleodplantation.com


Less than a 30-minute drive from most parts of Summerville is an ancient land, filled with giants over a thousand years old. The waters beckon to be explored, and a boardwalk rises above the ground, inviting visitors to immerse themselves in the experience of being in such a sacred space. This is Francis Beidler Forest, an Audubon wildlife sanctuary in Four Holes Swamp consisting of around 18,000 acres of cypress, hardwoods, and swampland, and home to 142 species of birds. Originally purchased with the help of the Nature Conservancy in 1969, the land includes 1,800 acres of virgin cypress tupelo trees aged between 1,000 and 1,500 years old, one of two remaining old growth forests in the state, and the largest virgin stand of these trees in the world. The sanctuary welcomes over 11,000 visitors annually, including countless international tourists, and serves as an unmatched educational and scenic resource for photographers, birders, and area schools.

SOUTHERNSPOTLIGHT Beidler Forest:Conser vation

The Crown Jewel of South Carolina

Behind the scenes of one of the Carolina’s best kept secrets, conservationist groups are working tirelessly to protect its borders and beyond by Jana Riley

Pristine Sanctuary Cypress trees in Four Holes Swamp; Lord Berkeley Conservation Trust executive director, Raleigh West

As development in the Charleston area has become more prevalent, so have the people who recognize the intrinsic value of Beidler Forest and work together to protect this treasure of the Lowcountry for current and future generations. One such champion is Sharon Richardson, the executive director of the Audubon South Carolina Society. Formerly a contract grant writer and independent consultant, Richardson has been working in South Carolina on conservation for around twenty years, and though Audubon manages over 20,000 acres of habitat in South Carolina, Beidler Forest is a place close to her heart.

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Swamp Thing Clockwise: Visitors walk the newly completed boardwalk; entrance to the visitor center; a view from the observation deck at the Edisto River.

“When you’re out there, especially if you’re in a canoe, it feels like you’re in Jurassic Park,” she smiles. “You can easily imagine dinosaurs just flying by you as you sit in this incredibly spiritual and inspiring space; it’s like a step back in time, but you’re only 20 minutes from the busy highway.” Richardson and her team are working tirelessly to protect not only Beidler Forest, but the areas all around it, particularly upstream and upland. In doing so, they aim to create a strong buffer between the unspoiled wildlife sanctuary and new development, which even in moderation can wreak havoc on nearby delicate ecosystems and the critters within. The Audubon Society considers two major options when building this buffer: purchasing land outright and working with conservation groups to help private landowners establish conservation easements. Purchasing the land is a costly endeavor, and the group is not always able to meet landowners at a price that is affordable. But, when they are able to acquire new land, the knowledge that Beidler is even more protected is invaluable. For conservation easements, they turn to preservation groups such as Ducks Unlimited, The Nature Conservancy, Lowcountry Land Trust, and Natural Resources Conservation Service, enlisting the help of their fellow champions of the land. One such local group that has proven to be invaluable to Beidler Forest and the Audubon Society is the Lord Berkeley Conservation Trust, headed by executive director, Raleigh West. West is intensely passionate about preserving what he calls “special places,” defining them as “beautiful intersections of historically and naturally significant property.” His mission can be traced back to his elementary school years, when a dove club that was a regular after-school stop with his father was suddenly demolished. “I drove by, and it was just gone,” West remembers. “It’s a warehouse now. It hit me that, without some level of protection, things can easily be 38 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016

here one day and gone the next. Later, as I matured, I realized that the location was probably an appropriate place for a warehouse. But there are still places around that are special enough to warrant protection.” West’s dedication to preserving important land became his career, and he accepted the position of executive director at the Lord Berkeley Conservation Trust in 2013. Since then, he has shifted the focus of the trust’s efforts, which were previously directed at mostly Cooper River properties, to include Santee River, Cooper River, Four Holes Swamp, and the Ashley River Headwaters, which they collectively call “Santee Cooper Country.” This broadening of focus put Beidler Forest right in their line of attention, and West quickly became intent on using the resources of the trust to help protect the sanctuary. “Beidler Forest is such an amazing place,” West says. “It’s incredibly awe-inspiring, especially with the age of the trees in the old-growth forest. You think, ‘What? This is still here?’ It’s like a time warp.” Working in tandem with the efforts of the Audubon Society to establish a strong buffer for Beidler Forest, Raleigh and his team at Lord Berkeley Conservation Trust assist private landowners in establishing permanent conservation easements. The trust works only with willing landowners, guiding them through the process of donating the development rights of the land to conservation in perpetuity while educating them on the benefits, which include modest payments from various trusts and conservation groups, tax write-offs, and the guarantee that the land will not be split up into countless pieces in the future, while also ensuring that future inheritors will not have to pay exorbitant estate taxes. Upon agreeing to a conservation easement, the landowner still owns the land, and retains all of the rights they decide they want to retain such as fishing, farming, hunting, timber management or building a house or two. Essentially, the conservation easement restricts extensive development while allowing properties to be used for traditional purposes,


The Crown Jewel of South Carolina

strengthensing the environmental value of the land while lowering the taxable value. With a collaborative approach between the Audubon Society, Lord Berkeley Conservation Trust and other non-profit conservation groups, Beidler Forest is now surrounded by 25,000 acres protected by conservation easements, including the 13,000- acre Brosnan Forest. “We have a lot of people in our corner when it comes to establishing this corridor of pristine land,” Sharon Richardson says. “And all of us are just trying to get the message across that private landowners have options: if they want to permanently protect their property and keep this area free from overdevelopment, they can sit back and get paid.” As far as development goes, Raleigh West is quick to point out that he and Lord Berkeley Conservation Trust are not against new construction as a whole. “Development on its face is not bad or counter to what we are doing,” he explains. “Concentrated development where it should go—which is where the infrastructure is—is appropriate. We are trying to keep that sort of development from leapfrogging over to Beidler Forest. As far as quality of life, we are so fortunate to have this in our backyard; it is this gorgeous, unpolluted, original landscape. I think it’s our job to make sure it stays that way.” In the coming years, the Audubon Society hopes to acquire at least another few thousand acres around Beidler Forest with no gaps in between, a goal which Richardson says will ensure a safety net for the wildlife that calls the land home. For West, his hope is to establish a green belt around the Charleston area; to have a vibrant urban core with unspoiled landscapes just a short drive in any direction. Both Richardson and West believe that, with the right mindset, their dreams for the future, for the residents of the Lowcountry, and for the irreplaceable wildlife, are quite achievable. “We are blessed in South Carolina,” Sharon Richardson remarks, “Because there is a deep stewardship ethic here. People appreciate and care deeply about the land and want it to stay the same way. There is strength in numbers, and if we can all come together collectively, we can protect this crown jewel for generations to come.” AM

Q&A Michael Dawson, Center Director and Sanctuary Manager at the Audubon Center at Francis Beidler Forest A: What makes Beidler Forest so unique and important? Dawson: “As one of only two significant stands of old growth forest left in the state, the virgin core of the sanctuary is like no place else anywhere and is a slice of what much of the Lowcountry used to look like.” A: What sort of value does the Beidler Forest area offer, past that of an aesthetically beautiful attraction? Dawson: “Four Holes Swamp as an ecosystem is still pretty much intact and healthy, not having been hugely disturbed by people over the centuries. Except for logging over time (which will regrow) and a few road crossings, the swamp still possesses very high quality water, has high wildlife value, has the ability to sequester tons of carbon, and as the floods of recent years have shown, can mitigate flooding by holding onto vast quantities of water and releasing it very slowly.” A: Why do you think it is crucial to protect the land around Beidler Forest? Dawson: “Charleston's development pressure cannot go to the east or to the north, and much of it is heading west. It is not out of the question that in the near future, the swamp will likely be surrounded by sub-developments and mini-farms. Against that day we need to protect as much of the swamp and upland buffer as possible to put some "space" between it and what might be coming down the pike!”

114 E. Ric hardson Ave. S um m er vil le, SC 2 9 4 8 5 843.225.366 1 fl y m oder n a p p arel. c om

Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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SUMMERVILLE Azalea Magazine 7.4874x4.8898 A.indd 1

11/14/16 9:59 AM


Local Flavor Rustin and Teresa Gooden; oak cut smoked sea salt

SOUTHERNSPOTLIGHT Bulls Bay Saltworks:Food

Bounty of the Sea

Using ultra-sustainable methods, a McClellanville couple harvests a delicious byproduct of the vast Atlantic by Jana Riley

On a small plot of land in McClellanville, South Carolina, the sea breeze whistles through the trees, bringing with it the familiar salty air beloved by coastal residents. As the sun rises, its rays linger on a quaint homestead, the dwelling of Rustin and Teresa Gooden, and the shelters for their animals. The warm rays of sun envelop a shipping container nearby, where a smoky aroma hangs in the air, and pierce the translucent material of a greenhouse filled with rows of black plastic tubs. Here, solar is celebrated; the same sun that lights up the beautiful Carolina morning becomes a workhorse for evaporation, helping to produce some of the finest salt on earth: the products of Bulls Bay Saltworks. Bulls Bay Saltworks is a physical manifestation of Rustin and Teresa’s shared devotion toward the environment, sustainability, and delectable food. Adventurers at heart, the Goodens met at an international hostel in the Florida Everglades, where they worked as tour guides in Everglades National Park. They hit it off, and when the season was over, Rustin found work as a rafting tour guide in Alaska and invited Teresa to join him. The pair became inseparable, and spent six years working between the two states according to the seasons before moving to Idaho and then to Portland, Oregon for Rustin’s schooling. Shortly before Rustin graduated, they began to talk about their next adventure, and pulled out a map to plan. Teresa Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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Bounty of the Sea

Local Harvest Carolina Flake sea salt; Rustin Gooden hard at work in the greenhouse.

grew up on the Chesapeake Bay, while Rustin grew up in Indiana, so they decided to move back to the East coast to be closer to their families. Feeling an inexplicable draw to the Charleston area, Rustin applied for a park ranger job at the Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge, and he got the call informing him of his acceptance as he was walking in to take his final exam. The Goodens were thrilled, and began house hunting immediately; first in Awendaw, then up and down the surrounding coast, searching for the perfect little plot of land to start anew. They ended up in McClellanville in 2011, and began “homesteading as much as possible while still living on the grid,” as Teresa explains. For a while, the Goodens settled into a comfortable routine: Teresa grew vegetables to sell to Growfood Carolina, and Rustin enjoyed his park ranger job. But on Memorial Day in 2012, the ongoing adventure of their shared life took on a new path entirely. Rustin and Teresa decided to throw a Memorial Day party to get to know their neighbors and acquaintances better, and while seasoning the

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hog, Rustin opted to source his salt from boiled down seawater. He smoked the hog for twelve hours, and with it, the salt. When it came time to serve the pork, he scooped some of the smoked salt into bowls and placed them on the table alongside the meat. While the pork was a rousing success, the star of the evening, according to the guests, was the delicious smoked salt. Countless friends asked the couple if they had any extra they could take home, and if they had plans to sell it in the future. The Goodens, ever interested in sustainable practices that put them in close connection to the environment, began experimenting with different methods of evaporation, and it wasn’t long before they ordered simple labels online and officially began their company, Bulls Bay Saltworks. Four years later, Teresa no longer grows produce to sell, and Rustin quit his part time job. The Goodens now have three employees, a small packaging facility on site, and their products can be purchased in 26 states. They have garnered a dedicated local following among chefs especially, and are featured in over 50 local restaurants, including McCrady’s, Husk, The Vendue, Butcher and Bee, and The Daily. Currently, they offer six products, all of which share the same humble beginnings; as part of the great Atlantic, specifically the waters of the Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge, which boasts



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Bounty of the Sea

some of the cleanest seawater on the East Coast. The Goodens wait for the perfect moment to harvest based on tides, rainfall, and other factors. In their fledgling days, Teresa and Rustin used five gallon buckets to collect the water, but these days, they rely on a marine pump that pumps and filters water into four 250 gallon tanks. Back in McClellanville, the water is pumped and filtered again, this time into holding tanks. When the time is right, the water is pumped and filtered again, and distributed among dozens of food-grade plastic tubs in the greenhouse. From there, Teresa says, the process becomes a bit “anticlimactic� for a few weeks. The water is left to sit in the sun for as little as two weeks to as long as a month and a half, depending on the weather. The Goodens monitor the bins carefully, removing the chalky calcium sulfate and bitter magnesium sulfate as they form, and as the crystallized salt forms, they sift it through multiple water baths to remove impurities. Once they have harvested the perfect salt, it goes on to be dried, finished and packaged. Some varieties, like the Carolina Flake, Charleston Sea Salt, and Carolina Margarita Salt, are packaged right up after drying, while others endure a few more steps. The Smoked Sea Salt is smoked over hearty chopped oak, while the Red Mash Sea Salt is blended with a fresno pepper mash from Red Clay Hot Sauce. Most interesting of all, perhaps, is the Bourbon Barrel Smoked Flake, which uses thrice-repurposed white oak bourbon barrels sourced from local cocktail mixer company, Bittermilk, lending a distinctive sweet and smoky aroma to the salt. Then, the products rest briefly before retailers, foodies, and chefs from all over the world place their order for a taste of Carolina. As passionate environmentalists, the Goodens have found a sweet spot with Bulls Bay Saltworks. Taking advantage of a constantly replenishing resource from one of the cleanest sources possible, relying on the power of the sun, and maintaining a minimal carbon footprint, all while offering a sustainable product with just one ingredient would be many an Earth-lover’s version of paradise. For the Goodens, such a privilege does not go unnoticed, and the couple lives and manages their company with gratitude and intention. Conscious to the core, the Lowcountry and its admirers are fortunate that the winds of change brought such saltof-the-earth people (and their actual salt) to our sandy shores. AM Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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AL R U T A N WOMAN

What Hits the Fan? We all know the answer, so why pretend it’s a fill-in-the-blank?

W

by Susan Frampton

ords. They can come together to be the greatest form of human expression, or fall into sentences that make monkeys happy they can’t speak. Like most people who have managed to make it past the ripe old age of five, words have occasionally come from my mouth that I wish I had could take back. I’m mostly sorry about those, because in general, they’ve sent me jumping off of things, onto things, or into things best avoided.

There are words I wish I’d said. I always think of the best retorts once an argument is long over. Don’t we all? There are also a lot of words I won’t say because they are just gross, offensive, and/or disrespectful. You hear a lot of them in today’s music and increasingly on television, and they’re like nails on a chalkboard. There are others that are just plain rude. Someone recently accused me of having told them to shut up. It made me laugh out loud. I’d no more tell someone to shut up than I’d punch the Pope. Although it isn’t inconceivable that I might have told the person to do something

ILLUSTRAT ION BY JASON WA G E N E R Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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else, that particular phrase is on the no-fly list. My mother had a thing about it, and she was not a woman you wanted to cross. I have a tendency to say what I think, and there are times when the words I use fall into the “bad” category. Lest you think otherwise, be assured that I was brought up right, and my parents, Sunday School teachers, and blessed grandmothers taught me to know better. I’m not particularly proud of the habit, but I own it. I do my very best not to use bad words at times or in places that I shouldn’t—although there is good argument for all-the-time and everywhere falling into those categories. But in some situations, words with four letters seem to have great therapeutic value—especially when said through clenched teeth. Shoot, darn, dang, and heck are great words, but they don’t offer the same bang for my expletive buck. The ones that do work for me are like that tiny valve on top of the pressure cooker. Each little word bomb lets out some dangerous steam. Sometimes when I’m really mad, I get all my swearwords out of order, and create a sentence that is grammatically incorrect, but cathartic in a way that keeps the pot from actually exploding and blowing out the windows. Don’t get all full of righteous indignation here. We all do it. Perhaps it’s really just about saying what you mean. Seemingly innocent words can be just as vitriolic. My dad once had his mouth washed out by my grandmother for calling someone a “Hot Dog!” Neither could later explain why the two words rated so harsh a punishment, but once the Ivory soap left the wrapper, there was no turning back. It is a clear example of what Mother frequently reminded me —it isn’t always the actual words


you say, but how you say them that transports them from innocent to profane.

In some situations, words with four letters seem to have great therapeutic value—especially when said through clenched teeth. Lots of people go out of their way to say euphemisms that are more acceptable but mean the same thing as the actual bad words. When someone warns that, “theyou-know-what is about to hit the fan,” we know exactly what is in question. You can’t un-see that picture in your head regardless of the word blanks you’ve had to fill in for yourself. The same grandmother that put Dad off hotdogs forever, used to exclaim, “John-Brown-it!” when she was really ticked off. There was no doubt what she meant. No one knows who John was or what he did to make his name a virtual curse-word, but when she threw out the phrase we knew somebody was in deep doodle. My toddler took to saying “Charlie-Brown-it!” when something made her mad, and saying it in a way that left little doubt she understood exactly what it meant. Some have said that those who occasionally or frequently burst out in bad words do so because they’re not too bright or have limited vocabularies. I’m a fairly intelligent person, with a wordlist that makes me a great Scrabble partner, and helps rack up respectable Jeopardy

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N AT U R A L WOMAN scores, so I don’t agree. Turns out, there is actually new science that disproves it. A recent study published in Language Sciences boldly announced to the world: “People Who Curse Are Smarter Than People Who Don't.” “A voluminous taboo lexicon may better be considered an indicator of healthy verbal abilities,” reads the study, published last November. In the next sentence, they kindly dumbed it down for those they thought might not understand the big words. “In plain English,” it goes on to explain, “the more curses you know, the more words you know.”

Study or no study, bad habits are hard to break, and I’m going to start trying to use more good words than bad (although I’m pretty sure that Hot-dog-Charlie-Brown-it-sonof-a-sailor-fudgecake won’t feel quite as good.) Study or no study, bad habits are hard to break, and I’m going to start trying to use more good words than bad (although I’m pretty sure that Hot-dog-Charlie-Brown-itson-of-a-sailor-fudgecake won’t feel quite as good through my clenched teeth.) I’ll let you know if I see that you’re headed for deep you-know-what or sound the alarm when you-know-where is freezing over. Fill in the blanks any way you want, because, JohnBrown-it, in the end, we all know exactly what I mean. AM


Stuck in the Middle with Me

I

K ID S THESE D AY S

by Tara Bailey

f you've ever been late to pick up a child, it might be because you forgot to get her. Or is that just me? Such is the fate of the middle child—that her needs are frequently an afterthought. Rest assured, I feel the appropriate amount of guilt over neglecting my middle daughter, which at times manifests in me saying "Google it," "Ask your teacher," or "I just can't right now." But for better or worse, ignoring the middle child really does make sense. As a baby, my second-born was the apple of my eye. She laughed so much that at times it was impossible to feed her because she wouldn't stop smiling. When she entered preschool, her teacher said she had to grit her teeth because she was so cute she couldn't stand it. That may sound weird, but I'm just quoting. She was the smiliest, happiest child I still have ever encountered, and she was easy to fawn over. Unfortunately for her, at age three, she—the little sister—became a big sister.

When my youngest child was born, my oldest had just begun kindergarten. I was busy trying to be the "involved mom" in this new school and made regular appearances to cut out shapes and sound out words in between feeding the new baby who was waiting for me at home. Then I would rush home to fill the baby's belly before her demands became intolerable to whoever was watching her for an hour or so. That middle child? She seemed happy enough. When it was the middle child's turn to start kindergarten, public school was old hat. Yet my oldest was entering third grade, when grades began to count, and I became the classroom mom. My youngest had just entered preschool, marking the end of that phase of life. At the time, that seemed like an important family milestone. The kindergartener? She would be fine. I continued to flip the calendar, and before long I found myself living with a teenager. Subsequently, I began blazing unforeseen parenting trails that required what seemed like all of my energy

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KIDS THESE D AY S

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and attention. The youngest child had keenly observed her sisters for the duration of her life and knew how to stay on my good side and generally out of trouble. Naturally, it was during this time when the middle girl entered her drama phase, and her favorite role was the part of the squeaky wheel. Looking back, I can't blame her, but her exaggerated limps following a stumble and her theatrical proclamations that she was unloved because we never, ever make anything she likes for dinner gave rise to even less sympathy and more inattention. I didn't realize it then, but her actions were a result of my inaction, which in turn caused more action from her and inaction from me. In hindsight, I don't know why Jan Brady wasn't more bitter than she was. I know and love several middle children. They tend to be the "fun ones" in their sibling groups, the peacemakers and negotiators, well-liked by others and generally successful. So how can this be when all I ever see from my middle child are fake limps and self-pity? I suppose that what these kids lack at home they make up for with their friends. With them, they don't have to claw their way to the top to be noticed (or remembered to be picked up on time from robotics practice). They are appreciated for their character traits, not because they stay out of the way. They have confidence because their parents have always assumed they're okay; thus, they assume they're okay. They just need for us to tell them every now and then. In many ways, we got lucky. Our middle child decided to set herself apart from her sisters with her grades. Not that her sisters' grades are shabby, but she has taken up academics as her mantle, at least for now. But that wheel continues to squeak nonetheless. She loves to flaunt the easier time she had in a math class than her older sister did. She also likes to ask her what classes she took when she was a freshman, which gives her an opportunity to

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point out that she is ahead of her sister's schedule. She enjoys logging onto the school website and reading her averages out loud. Somebody, pass the grease. It's tough to be stuck in the middle, wanting attention of any kind. Even when she goes out of her way to gain positive attention, it's eclipsed by the fear of going unnoticed. I tell her we are proud of her hard work and remind her, gently, that most likely no one else wants to hear the roll call of grades. "But we notice how much you care about school, and we admire your dedication." See? We try. Still, the grease is a bit watery.

It's tough to be stuck in the middle, wanting attention of any kind. Even when she goes out of her way to gain positive attention, it's eclipsed by the fear of going unnoticed.

So, what to do? If the middle child is tough on the parents, I imagine it's harder on the child herself. I have no answers and am open to suggestions. What I do know is that at the end of the day she always has something to share from school, answering in stories rather than "Fine." She goes out of her way to bake us treats to show her love. She has been patient with her parents and sisters and still loves to sit in my lap and cuddle. Our middle child may have to figure out some basic things on her own due to the misfortune—or fortune­—of her birth order. But she will be okay, and whatever she does with her life, she will do it smiling. AM Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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When God Winks

G

L IF E & F A IT H

by Lili Hiser

od recently reminded my husband and me of His creative handy ways while we were going through the task a lot of parents struggle with: naming a child. We already have two toddler boys in tow, but the exciting discovery of a pregnancy sparked daydreams of potential names. Once it was evident the little one was a girl, I suggested a name to my husband that did not get a joking response; this was a green light to move forward! We agreed her name, like her momma’s, would be a flower: Daisy.

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LIFE & FA I T H

In sharing the name, we have heard a variety of opinions, from it being a popular cow name to questioning whether she would wear Daisy Dukes. My young, honest nephew summed it up best by asking, “You’re naming her after a dog?!” Hearing the word “dog” being associated with your daughter is not a fuzzy feeling. And, yes, we are aware it is a popular pet name, but Johnny Cash’s boy named Sue turned out okay. Wait, I think he wanted to kill his dad. Well, apples and oranges… Regardless, we love the name, and this southern gal has already been planning what needs to get monogrammed. But one thing did bother us after we had decided upon our daughter’s name—neither of our moms’ names had been honored by a grandchild. With both of our sons named from our family heritage, there was a slight guilt that our daughter’s name was simply pulled out of the air. Or so we thought. In no time, Daisy already had quite the collection of daisy-themed items and dresses, including a book my mom had purchased and planned to give the baby at birth. It was a picture book of flower names and the origins behind each name. One afternoon, I received a call from my mom. “You are not going to believe this!” she exclaimed. To our complete shock, my mother’s French middle name, Marguerite, means daisy! The waterfall of tears started! When I got off the phone, I tried to explain the news to my husband between gasps of air—all while being a hormonal pregnant mess! 56 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016


25 Y E A RS OF E X P E R I E N CE Still, we also hoped to recognize my husband’s mom as well. I knew her legal middle name, once her maiden name, but I was unaware of her given middle name. I asked my husband, and he thought for a long minute or so. Then, “It’s Margaret, I am sure.” I was stunned by the news after, as a few clicks on the computer confirmed, the meaning of Margaret stems back to the same word, daisy.

Though we cannot take credit for intentionally being this clever naming our daughter, God clearly harmonized for our moms to be honored in a way we could never imagine.

Though we cannot take credit for intentionally being this clever naming our daughter, God clearly harmonized for our moms to be honored in a way we could never imagine. In the chaotic world we live in, He has the ability to bring jagged parts together and to create a supernatural masterpiece sealed with His wink of approval. We look forward to sharing this story with our daughter in the years to come reminding her of the One who truly handpicked her name like a flower in a field, like a Daisy. AM

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AZ ALEA MAGAZI NE Winter 2016

THE RURAL ISSUE

WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS p g. 5 8

MOONLIT MEMORIES p g. 7 0

THE BADHAM HOUSE p g. 7 4

IRON CLAD WINTER COBBLERS p g. 8 0

Love of Country A bride and groom at Appleby Methodist Church on Old Wire Road

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From marsh creeks and farmlands to black swamps and charming weathered P h o to s by V i rg i l B u na o & D o t t i e R i z zo


structures, the Lowcountry's rural communities abound with natural beauty


Top: Guy and Tina's Picking Parlor in Bethera. Bottom: The Edisto River outside of Summerville.

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Tent 14 at Indian Fields Campground in St. George.

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Clockwise: Sunrise in a forest near Summerville; the smokehouse at Sweatman's BBQ in Holly Hill; a plantation house near Walterboro.

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Top: A winter sunrise at Edisto Beach. Bottom: Setting up a rodeo near Walterboro.

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Clockwise: A turkey shoot near St. George; a row boat in Awendaw; hay bales on a plowed peanut field near Harleyville; pond at Mepkin Abbey near Moncks Corner.

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Top: A roadside praise house near St. Helena. Bottom: A creek with oyster beds near Ridgeland.

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Top: Folly Creek off of Bowens Island. Bottom: An old red barn sits off the road near Harleyville.

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Clockwise: A live oak near Bluffton; an abandoned car outside of Summerville; an early morning fox hunt at Middleton Plantation; a caretaker's cabin on a plantation near Walterboro.

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Clockwise: A black swamp near Moncks Corner; Old Sheldon Church Ruins in Yemassee; kayakers in a pond near Summerville.

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Clockwise: The Intracoastal Waterway in the Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge; a farm on Edisto Island; an abandoned church on Hwy 17 near Summerville.

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t i l n o o M : s e i r o m Me e n o g n i Takmoonlit y e n r u o j st lamemories y m h t wi e h t o m d gran l i R a n by Ja 72

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My grandmother Janet Keller was something of a domestic adventurer in her lifetime. While she did not traverse the continents and immerse herself in foreign lands, she spent time in nearly every single one of the United States; she even lived in Alaska for years and had a timeshare in Hawaii. I remember her telling me from a young age that she held a personal goal to visit all 50 states, and for most of my life, she was missing just one: North Dakota. To a kid growing up in South Carolina, North Dakota felt as foreign as France, and I spent a lot of time imagining what the state must be like, particularly because it seemed so out of reach to my adventurous grandmother. Later, I realized that the state was likely skipped over simply because it was not “on the way” to a major attraction. Gram always found a way to travel, even though she didn’t drive: she and my grandfather traveled together, of course, but she also regularly accompanied us on family vacations and made traveling buddies over the years, going on cruises and road trips as frequently as possible.

My grandmother was a unique person, wholly and completely herself and unlike any grandmother I’ve met since. While it may make a better story to imagine her as the quintessential Southern grandmother—warm, immensely comforting, completely devoted to her grandchildren—the reality was quite different. Gram loved us, to be sure, but it never felt like she needed us. She didn’t live for her grandchildren or her husband or anyone else; she lived for herself. I never once doubted if she loved me, my sisters, or my cousins, but I also never doubted that she was an independent woman. She was the first woman I knew who had a full-time job: I remember coming to her cubicle at the Social Security Administration as a kid, in awe of the hustle and bustle of the offices, thinking she was so cool to work in a place that felt important. For a large portion of my childhood, she spent her winters in a condo on Isle of Palms; a family member would drop her off at the beginning of the season, and she would live there for months, alone, save for visits from her family and friends. A few times, I was lucky enough to spend a weekend at the beach with her by myself, and I reveled in the experience of being part of her routine for a few days. I remember she had this little shopping cart that she’d take down to the Red and White: the mom and pop island grocery store. She would walk to the store with it folded up and rolling behind her, choose exactly what she needed to last her for the next week (while still fitting perfectly within 74 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016

her little cart), wheel it back to her condo, park it at the stairs, and take trips bringing the bags up to the third floor. Then she would pour herself a glass of wine, go out onto her balcony, and just stare at the ocean and the beach. I always wondered what she was looking at, thinking that the view had to become simply business as usual at some point, but it never did. She always appreciated it. She always seemed to be soaking it in.

A few years ago, I got a call from my aunt explaining that Gram was in the hospital and that she seemed very sick. Surprised and concerned, my husband and I raced to Augusta to visit her. Gram was in the intensive care unit with complications stemming from her COPD, but she was expected to make a fair recovery. As I sat with her, we talked about her lifelong goal of visiting all 50 states. She said that she was still missing North Dakota, and with a glance toward my husband, I knew what I should do: I promised to take her to North Dakota as soon as she was able. She laughed it off, but said that a trip together would be fun, and I resolved to make it happen. Over the years, we had drifted apart a bit, and I was excited at the opportunity to get to be close to her once again while helping her achieve a longstanding goal. I started tracking airfare prices and looking at hotels in North Dakota and I planned to take her as soon as she was completely well. A short time later, Gram was back in the hospital again, and this time, she passed away. She was just shy of 76 years old. According to her wishes, there was no ceremony for Gram, no burial service, no casket. She was simply gone, her life ended abruptly by an undiscerning disease. When I found out she was to be cremated, I asked my aunt for a small parcel of her ashes, and the ashes sat in my possession for nearly a year before I had a solid plan. With the help of my husband, I decided that I would leave our two young children with him and travel to Colorado, rent a car, and drive the ashes to North Dakota, thereby fulfilling my promise to Gram. This past September, I carefully packed the ashes into a backpack, boarded a plane, and set off for my last journey with my grandmother. Driving from Denver to North Dakota, a thousand thoughts flew through my mind. Where exactly would I scatter the ashes? What would I do, think, or say to pay homage to her? What time of day should I perform


r,

To my family members reading this, the significance of the moon that night would be immediately understandable, but to others, I owe an explanation. During her life, Gram used the full moon as way to connect with her family all over the country. She explained to her grandchildren that no matter where we were on earth, we would always see the same full moon that she would see, so if we blew kisses to the full moon, she could easily receive them, and vice versa. Her logic was infallible to us as children, and every full moon, we’d all blow kisses, knowing she was doing the same. Conversations after her death revealed that many of us still engage in the ritual upon seeing a full moon as a way to remember her, and some of Gram’s grandchildren have even passed the practice on to their own children.

my mind. I recalled the time she took me to the Isle of Palms VFW for an oyster roast, and how she made me feel like the coolest kid who ever lived when I found a pearl in one of my oysters. I remembered how she made boxed spaghetti taste like a Michelin star meal, and how my sisters and I would beg her to make it any time we saw her. I laughed as I thought back to how she had the largest collection of “unrated” teen comedy movies that I had ever seen, and how she almost never missed an episode of The Tonight Show with Jay Leno or an issue of the National Enquirer. I pictured Gram in her element: wearing some silly getup in celebration of a holiday, with light-up hats, jewelry, masks, and more. She loved holidays, and any reason to celebrate was an opportunity for her to break out her costume box. I cried as I recalled one of the more special moments with her: sneaking out together onto the beach in front of her Isle of Palms condo in the dead of night to watch a meteor shower, just us, the stars, and the sound of crashing waves. As I reflected on our memories together, turning corners along the road and in my mind, the full harvest moon bobbed in and out of sight, occasionally riding alongside me, perfectly framed within the passenger window. I never saw another car—it was just the two of us. For an hour or more, I drove, and each time the moon reappeared, so did another memory, Gram's smiling face and distinctive laugh shining as clearly in my mind as the moon shone that night. Finally, I stopped. The park was silent. Ahead, there was a path framed by two small hills, and the full moon seemed like it took up the entire expanse of sky between them. This was the place. I walked until it felt right, ventured off of the path a little bit, and stared into the landscape like she used to stare at the Atlantic Ocean: soaking it in, appreciating it. After I felt I had imprinted the view into my mind, I scattered the ashes on the North Dakota earth as I said my own goodbyes. She finally made it to all fifty states.

When I came around the corner in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, previously in darkness, to see the brightest, fullest harvest moon I’ve ever seen, I could not contain my emotion, and immediately burst into tears. Sitting with the ashes of my grandmother on the seat next to me, I knew this was the moment I had been waiting for, and I slowly began to drive the scenic road yet again. As I drove, memories flooded

I will always regret that I did not get to take Gram to North Dakota while she was alive. I would have loved to travel with her again like we did when I was a child and be able to ask her so many questions about herself and her life. My last journey with my grandmother did not go as planned, but for the adventure it turned out to be, it was as beautiful and inspiring as she was. AM

the event, and how could I make it special? With no real answer to any of my own questions, I set my sights on Theodore Roosevelt National Park, and headed to nearby Medora, North Dakota. It took a couple of days, but I eventually checked into the quaint “Amble Inn,” just a stone’s throw from the park. The town was practically boarded up during these offseason times, and in the quiet, I revisited my questions—when, where, and how should I pay homage to Gram? I decided I would take a driving tour of the park around sunset, and if the moment felt right, I would scatter the ashes. As I drove up the winding road, I was struck by the beauty of my surroundings. Large rock formations covered the vast landscape, sporting more colors and textures than the eye could comprehend. The sun began to set as I traveled the scenic route, and I watched the golden light turn an orange hue before the park descended into darkness. For miles, I drove in silence, my path lit only by my headlights, until the moment I turned a corner, and there it was. I slammed on the brakes and gasped audibly. There, just above the center of the road, framed by two giant rock formations, was an enormous harvest moon.

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Badham House

Herman and Harriet Halmon happily throw open the doors to the historic white mansion outside of St. George to share the blessings of their destiny by S U S A N F R A M P T O N

photography by D O T T I E R I Z Z O

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When Herman Halmon was a young boy growing up outside of the St. George area, he would sometimes ride in a horse-drawn wagon with his grandfather down a gravel highway to the feed store. Along the way, they passed a tremendous white house with huge columns and what seemed like hundreds of windows reflecting the mid-day sun. On each trip, Herman would point and tell his grandfather, “Look! It’s the White House!” “It’s a white house,” his grandfather would tell him, “but not the White House.” If he went to school and worked hard, he could one day own a house just like it, his grandfather would tell him. Over forty years later, he would remember those conversations when he drove his wife, Harriet, down that same highway shortly after their marriage. The Badham House was just as he remembered it, but for one important detail: there was a for sale sign in the front yard. In 1912, Vernon Cosby Badham was the owner of three impressive sawmills, one of which lay just off Highway 78 in upper Dorchester County. The sawmill cut 50,000-100,000 feet of timber a day, hauling it from the swamps by a narrow-gauge railroad. After an Italian honeymoon with his second wife, the self-made North Carolina native set out to recreate a Neoclassical mansion similar to one his new wife had seen in Italy. From the impressive white mansion’s 40-acre grounds, he would be able to see his sawmill, as

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well as the post office and company store nearby. No expense was spared. Corinthian columns wrapped around the two-story portico on three sides, and a sunroom boasting 600 panes of glass lay off the western side. Rich wood paneling and coffered ceilings could be seen through the stained glass doors and sidelights, rumored to have been designed by Tiffany himself, and ornate steam radiators heated the 10,000-square-foot mansion. The depression rocked Badham’s world and forced the closing of the mill in 1938. His once-lavish lifestyle ended abruptly, leaving him unable to even provide heat for the stately house. Having placed his assets in his wife’s name, he would die at age 90, at the mercy of the executors of his wife’s estate. The home remained in private hands, but was finally lost to foreclosure. It seemed like a dream come true when the Halmon’s called the real estate agent to make an offer on the seven-bedroom, seven-bath Badham House of Herman’s childhood memory. When their offer was accepted, they anxiously anticipated the finalization of their financing and other details required for the closing. They envisioned opening the house up as a special events venue, for weddings and birthdays, and other occasions. But their dreams were shattered when the agent called to say that a cash offer had been made by another buyer, and it looked as though


A Home with Roots This page clockwise: A hand-painted fixture hangs from the panelled ceiling; the marble fireplace in the living room; the history room is adorned with murals that represent the area's rich traditions; the stained glass on the front door lets in a variety of rich hues; the main staircase. Opposite: The wood panels gives the home a rich, yet cozy atmosphere.


the house would slip through their fingers. They were promised something definitive within seven days. The wait seemed interminable, and Harriet remembers looking to the heavens and praying. “Lord, I want this house for a higher purpose. Not just for us, but for what we can do with this house. In my heart, I had claimed this house for my own, and I just knew that it was meant to be.” When those seven days were up, they received a call asking them to hold on for an additional seven days. According to Biblical scholars, there is special significance attached to the number seven. It denotes completeness and perfection, so it was no surprise that when the next call came, it was to say that the cash sale had fallen through and the house was theirs. It was not the first time that the two had felt the Lord’s hands in their lives. Many years earlier, after serving 27 years in the Army and retiring as First Sergeant, Herman went to work as the Printing Chief at the U.S. Congress. He worked for every president from Richard Nixon to Barack Obama, and he was responsible for the production of documents such as presidential papers and the congressional record. He spent 41 years in Washington, D.C., where his wife worked in the Pentagon as an accountant. Harriet spent 25 years in the Army, a career from which she would eventually retire as a Lt. Colonel. She served in the office of Repatriation and Family Affairs. “Wherever in the world there is a missing soldier, there is someone looking for them. Germany, Vietnam, Korea, no matter how long ago and no matter where.” It was her job to give monthly briefings to the family members of missing soldiers. She had been stationed in D.C. for 3 months when she was finally able to have her household goods delivered. The delivery date would mean that she would have to reschedule an appointment at the Pentagon where she was to pick up a flag for a repatriated POW. It was as she unpacked boxes on the morning of September 11, 2001, that a neighbor ran to her door to tell her that the Pentagon had been hit. The day turned out differently for Herman, whose wife was among the Pentagon’s missing. It was 32 days before confirmation came that her life had been tragically lost. Harriet did not meet Herman during that difficult time, but when they did meet and become friends a year later, she was uniquely qualified to understand his loss. She had thrown herself into her work to make sure that the needs of families of the missing and lost were met. “I always tried to answer the 80 AZALEAMAG.COM Winter 2016

questions I would want to know in that situation, because you never know. Today is their day. Tomorrow could be mine.” Harriet left Washington for other assignments over the next ten years, but the two stayed in touch. “My wife had been my high school sweetheart,” Herman says quietly. “I was awfully lonely for seven or eight years.” But destiny saw fit to reunite the two friends, and they were married two years later. When they moved to Badham House, they immediately began to look for ways to share their home with the community. Phyllis Hughes, a founding member of the Upper Dorchester County Historical Society recalls the day someone told her that the new owners of the historic home wanted to meet with her. She called immediately, and she went to visit the couple. It was not long before the Halmons opened their doors to a historical society event in their home. Over two hundred people came to welcome and celebrate the new owners of the house that had long been an enigma in the largely rural area. Among them was a 96-yearold African American woman who had once worked in the home. With tears in her eyes, she revealed that it was the very first time she had been allowed to enter through the front door. Since that time, Badham House has hosted weddings and parties, meetings and special events, and, if the Halmons have their way, many a happy moment will be celebrated under the roof of the house that they consider themselves to have been destined to share. When asked if he ever imagined that his grandfather’s advice would one day bring him here to the white house, Herman smiles and shakes his head. “Not in a million years.” “I feel it was simply meant to be,” Harriet says, beaming at her husband with the confidence that they are both exactly where they are supposed to be. AM


Open House Clockwise: The entire home is adorned with the original hardwood paneling; a guest bedroom; attention to detail; the sunroom is a gathering space for weddings and local events and has 600 individual panes of glass. Opposite: The side entrance to the sunroom; owners Herman and Harriet Halmon: the home is a classic example of Neoclassical Revival architecture.


THREE WINTER C O B B L E R S T H AT A R E SURE TO PLEASE Photos by Dottie Rizzo



S W E E T P O T AT O - P E C A N C O B B L E R Ingredients 1 1/2 cups sugar 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg 5 tablespoons all-purpose flour 2 29oz cans sweet potatoes in syrup 2 teaspoonsvanilla extract 5 tablespoons butter cubed 1/4 cup pecan pieces Ingredients (Crust) 1 1/2 cups all purpose flour 1/4 teaspoon salt 5 tablespoons butter, softened 5 tablespoons water

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Preparation Preheat oven to 400ยบ. For filling, in a large bowl whisk first 5 filling ingredients. Drain the sweet potatotoes, reserving the syrup. Pour sweet potatoes in a greased cast-iron skillet. Measure out 1 1/2 cups of reserved syrup, mix in vanilla extract, and pour on top of sweet potatoes. Sprinkle the sugar and spices mixture over top of the sweet potatoes. Put the 5 tablespoons of butter on top and sprinkle on pecans. Preparation (Crust) Mix salt into flour. Cut butter into flour until it resembles course crumbs. Add water and mix. Crumble over top of sweet potatoes in skillet and cook 40-45 minutes until topping browns.




R AS P B E R R Y T A P I O C A C O B B L E R Ingredients 1 1/2 cups sugar, divided 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon baking powder 3 teaspoons ground cinnamon 1 stick butter cubed 1 egg, beaten 4-5 cups raspberries 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg 1/4 cup instant tapioca pearls Vanilla ice cream (optional)

Preparation Preheat oven to 350ยบ. In large bowl combine 1 cup sugar, flour, salt, baking powder and 2 teaspoons of cinnamon. Cut in cubed butter with a pastry blender, then add the beaten egg and mix until egg is evenly distributed. Pour raspberries into cast-iron skillet and cover with remaining sugar and tapioca. Sprinkle 1 teaspoon cinnamon and 1 teaspoon nutmeg over the berries. Crumble the cobbler dough evenly over the berries. Bake for 40 minutes or until the berries bubble and crust gets golden brown. Serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Winter 2016 AZALEAMAG.COM

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C H O C O L A T E L AV A P U D D I N G C O B B L E R Ingredients 2 cups all-purpose flour 4 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 cup cocoa powder, divided 2 1/2 cups sugar, divided 1 cup milk 2/3 cup butter, melted 3 teaspoons vanilla extract 1 cup light brown sugar 3 cups hot water Vanilla ice cream

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Preparation Preheat oven to 350ยบ. In bowl, mix flour, baking powder, salt, 6 tablespoons of the cocoa, and 1 1/2 cups of sugar. Stir in the milk, melted butter, and vanilla. Mix until smooth. Pour into cast-iron skillet. In a separate bowl, mix 1 cup sugar, brown sugar, and remaining cocoa. Sprinkle mixture evenly over the batter. Pour the hot water over top; do not stir. Bake for 40 minutes or until center is set. Serve with vanilla ice cream, topped with some of the chocolate pudding.



WINTERING by Ellen E. Hyatt

Look here now, the winter gardens on the back roads, away from manmade noise and meddle-mess. Gardens planted with grasses, legumes, brassicas. These Cover Crops, fixing in and scavenging nitrogen, assist another rebirth for spring soil. And right there, dried stalks, byproduct of harvested grain now straw: towers stacked and readied for horses, their bedding. Not to be confused with hay— for horses, too. Harvested before going to seed, hay: makings for a healthy diet. As for us, don’t we also need to know ways to winter? Time for apple cake baked in the cast iron skillet (the pan with its own history of survival). Add brandy, that secret splash won the cake top prize at church bake-offs. Enjoy bittersweet tastes of recall in quiet light of Winterful.

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Lowcountry Orthopaedics -&- Sports Medicine A MEMBER OF

Get back in the Game! Orthopaedic and Pain Management Physicians, X-ray, Occupational Therapy, MRI, Physical Therapy and Outpatient Surgery Center. By offering the newest techniques and most advanced technology, we have the knowledge to offer our patients the best possible treatment.

North Charleston 2880 Tricom St.

Downtown Summerville 130 E. 3rd North St.

Summerville/Oakbrook 93 B Springview Ln.

Occupational Therapy 2881 B Tricom St.

Moncks Corner 2061 Highway 52

Daniel Island 899 Island Park Dr. #200

www.LowcountryOrtho.com | (843) 797-5050


styled by Margie Sutton, makeup by Neeley Israel, photo by Brat's Photography


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