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The HAUNTED SOUTH /GRASSROOTS JEWELRY / The MUSIC of FRANCES CONE HORSE RACING REVIVAL / The SOUTHERN ART of CANNING / OUR OWN AJ GREEN PROHIBITION SWEET TEA / INSIDE an ARTIST’S HOME / M&G: ANYA BUNAO

AZALEA Modern Living in the Old South

FREE ~ FALL 2013

TEXTURES SOUTH ofthe

WE LOOKED PAST THE MAGNOLIAS and ANTEBELLUM MANSIONS to DOCUMENT the HUMBLE BACKDROPS THAT ARE at the HEART and SOUL of DIXIE'S CHARM A Photo Essay by Dottie Rizzo


Donnie Gamache Attorney at Law

100 S Main St. Suite C Summerville, SC 29483

(p) 843.821.8280 (f) 888.429.8289

dpkgcalendar@gmail.com


When it comes to your eyes…

What’s important to you, is important to us!

EXPERIENCE

TRUST

PATIENT CARE

20 year tradition of excellence in eye care, serving the Charleston area.

Dr. Reuther is Board-Certified in Comprehensive Ophthalmology and Cataract Surgery.

Dr. Reuther offers state-ofthe-art eye care, including advanced cataract surgery, diabetic eye care, glaucoma and macular degeneration.

“I chose Dr. Reuther for my cataract surgery and I am seeing better than ever. The new facility and fantastic team at Carolina Eyecare Physicians are a great addition to the Summerville community.” – Berlin G. Myers, former Mayor of Summerville, SC

Call (843) 873-5577 to schedule your exam! CarolinaEyecare.com | 296 Midland Parkway | Summerville, SC 29485

Robert G. Reuther, MD


Features AZALEA Magazine / Fall 2013

Karl McMillan shows off the newest member of his family

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TEXTURES of the SOUTH A photo essay of Dixie's charm by Dottie Rizzo

74

CHASING STEEPLES

The man behind the Charleston Cup by Will Rizzo

78

AJ GREEN

Giving back is as important as receiving by Susan Frampton

84

HAUNTED SOUTH

Tales and mysteries of the unexplained by Katie DePoppe

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Contents

/ AZALEA Magazine / Fall 2013

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55 07 Editor’s Letter 08 Letters 13 Contributors 15-20 FIELD GUIDE A brief look into our local culture SOUTHERN LIFE 23 Southern Spotlight - Music 28 Southern Spotlight - Author 30 Southern Spotlight - History 35 Southern Spotlight - Food

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COLUMNS 41 Natural Woman by Susan Frampton 45 Southern Rambler by Chris Campeau

63 Grass Roots Angie Buxton and Janie Manning weave patterns from the past into the future of sweetgrass basketmaking by Susan Frampton

49 LIFE & FAITH A Continuous Legacy The first Baptist church in the South by Will Browning

90 THE LOCAL 90 Summerville Farmer's Market 92 July Third Thursday

SOUTHERN STYLE 55 Living Arrangements Florist Heidi Inabinet brings style and creativity home after the work day is done

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94 Southern Sides by Jana Riley

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ON THE COVER: A Norfolk Southern rail car parked at Kapstone Summerville / Photograph by Dottie Rizzo

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The Daniel Island Company’s

Newest Community...

Carnes Crossroads

Model Row Now Open!

A New Community in Goose Creek Ca rn es Cr os sin g

1 St Av en ue

et

.J

tre

St am es Av ue

Goose Creek

en

Summerville

s S ile ain 3M M rth o N

Exit 199B

Ch ar le st on

843.761.8600

Information Center

95 I-

Here in the heart of Charleston’s growth, a new community is emerging. Located on 2,000 acres at the intersection of North Main and St. James in Goose Creek, Carnes Crossroads offers the lifestyle of a small town, with charming neighborhoods, beautiful parks, lakes and close proximity to stores, shops, restaurants, offices, schools and church – and all the conveniences of Goose Creek and Summerville. The first homes begin around the mid-$200,000s and are being built by David Weekley Homes, Eastwood Homes and Sabal Homes. Our Carnes Crossroads Real Estate Information Center is a wonderful resource to learn about life here. Located across from the Village Green and the historic Green Barn, our office is open 7 days a week, with or without an appointment. Or visit CarnesCharleston.com to learn more.

From I-26, take exit 199B for US 17N (North Main St). Travel 3 miles to Carnes Crossroads. Take the 1st left (1st Avenue) into the community.

CarnesCharleston.com

Where Community Comes Together Development managed by The Daniel Island Company

Carnes Crossroads Real Estate, LLC. Chuck Buck, BIC


Announcing the Final Phase of the Summit

Don't miss your opportunity to own a piece of this naturally beautiful community. Located just minutes from Historic Downtown Summerville, the Summit is a hidden jewel of our community. 3/4 to 1 acre wooded lots with classic Southern styled homes epitomize the Summit's lifestyle. Our company is based on the belief that our customers' needs are of the utmost importance. Our team is committed to meeting those needs. Let us help you build your dream home in this wonderful community. We welcome the opportunity to earn your trust and deliver you the best service in the industry.

(43 lots available / 3/4 to 1 acre lots) - Offered by -

2nd South Properties & Construction & M&S Development Co. 843.871.4818 / www.2ndsouth.vpweb.com


Editor’s Letter

"I have a job that allows me to focus my attention on the incredible things the South offers me..."

Soul Mate I have moved around a good bit in my thirty seven years. And for all but a six-month stint when I was in middle school, I have lived in the South–Tennessee, Georgia, and all over South Carolina and Florida. I am a proud Southerner; one who has had the pleasure of experiencing many facets of the diverse cultures of Dixie. The best way I know to describe the South is authentically soulful. From the honest passion of the music and literature, to the delicious simplicity of the food. From the comfortable elegance of the architecture, to the fervid spirit of the people–the South is just real. Deep. Meaningful. Intentional. And I have to admit that I often take it all for granted. I grow too familiar with the magic of this place. Sometimes I have to make a conscious effort to take it all in--to slow down and remember how lucky I am to have a life here. Azalea has helped me with this. I have a job that allows me to focus my attention on the incredible things the South offers me–to memorialize my home with every issue. In the photo essay (Textures of the South, pg. 66), we chose to look past the moss and mansions, to forgo the famed and storied, and document the modest beauty that is at the heart and soul of Dixie's charm. Every photograph was taken within an hour's drive of our office in Downtown Summerville. There is so much out there to see. You don't have to look far; you just have to look. So, we invite you to explore. Whether it's a Sunday drive or on your way home from work, look and see what all the South has to say. You'll come away with something to be grateful for every time. Will Rizzo Editor In Chief

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We Are

Scholars For sixty years, Pinewood has provided exceptional educational opportunities for students in preschool through twelfth grade. We set our expectations high with challenging curriculum, high quality instruction and a commitment to developing the leadership potential of every child. Our results are nothing short of outstanding. One-hundred percent of the Class of 2013 gained college acceptance, with nine out of ten students receiving college scholarship offers, and one in five earning AP Scholar designation.

We Are Scholars. We Are Pinewood.

Arrange a tour today

admissions@pinewoodprep.com 843-376-0142 ext. 2001

www.pinewoodprep.com

Full and Half-Day Pre-Kindergarten -12th grade Financial assistance available

Letters The REBIRTH of MAYBANK PLANTATION / BASS MASTER: MARC DESCHENES AMERICAN SURVIVOR / The GREATEST GENERATION / A CHILD of the LOWCOUNTRY DESIGNER JULIA FAYE DAVISON / A BOWL FULL of LEMONS / RAISING the BAR

FREE ~ SUMMER 2013

Modern Living in the Old South

GREEN IS GOOD

UNRIPENED TOMATOES HAVE LONG BEEN a STAPLE in the SOUTH TRY THESE FOUR INVENTIVE RECIPES and DISCOVER WHY

" COVER TO COVER I just wanted to send you a quick email and tell you how much I love Azalea. I look forward to every new issue and read it cover to cover.

I picked up a copy after we had dinner at Firewater Grille. My dad commented that he could not believe it was free and that he loved the high quality.

As a resident of Summerville, I am proud to see it in stores and around our local community. I leave it on my coffee table so when guests come to visit, they can read about our little (but growing) town.

Kristen Erkert Robson

Beth Myers REALLY HIT HOME I just read through the summer edition of Azalea. You had a lot in there that I loved, and it all centered around veterans. Your opening letter really hit home in my heart. I couldn't agree more with your "hero" sentiments. Keep up the great work with a wonderful magazine.

Class of 2013 National AP Scholar National Merit Commended Scholar Carolina Scholar Palmetto Fellow

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PRICELESS Just finished reading the Azalea summer issue! The article about Homegrown Brewhouse was cool. Susan Frampton's description of yard work was priceless. The photos of Maybank Plantation were so Lowcountry. But the story of Rollins Edwards was most inspirational. Great issue! Tim Lowry FUN TO READ This is a great magazine. Every issue is fun to read. Thank you for printing it.

Bo Turocy

Lee Runion

HAS TO HAVE ONE Azalea is such a great magazine that everybody just has to have one!

WOW The magazine continues to wow!

Cindy Koontz The Timrod Library

Austin Pahl

"

Your opening letter really hit home in my heart. I couldn't agree more with your 'hero' sentiments.

FREE? I just wanted to tell you that my parents are visiting us from outside of Philadelphia, and they both enjoyed reading your magazine.

Kathy Randall LOVE As always I love, love, love this magazine. Marie McLeod


PULTE INTRODUCES TWO GREAT COMMUNITIES IN ONE EXTRAORDINARY TOWN.

The Historic District's Newest Community

Modern Living With An Air Of Nostalgia

• Quaint neighborhood with only 20 homesites

• Walk or bike to downtown Summerville shops, parks, and restaurants

• Minutes from area schools • Walk or bike to downtown Summerville shops, parks, and restaurants

• Nearby YMCA: pools, fitness, family fun • Features mature landscaping, gazebo with event lawn and oyster pit

Luxury Homes from 2,300 to 3,200 sf

Luxury Homes from 2,200 to 2,800 sf

pu l t e.com/ si mmonsg ro ve 877- 748- 6659

p ulte.com /dan ielsorc ha rd 877-882-3579

This material shall not constitute a valid offer in any state where prior registration is required or if void by law. Photographs are for illustrative purposes only and are not intended to be an actual representation of a specific community, neighborhood, or any completed improvements being offered. Details & offers subject to change or cancellation at any time without notice. Please see a sales associate for details. © 2013 Pulte Homes Corporation. All rights reserved.


Near the Coast Beneath the Oaks On the Porch

It’s Everything Lowcountry.

Will Rizzo Co-Publisher and Editor in Chief will@azaleamag.com Dottie Rizzo Co-Publisher and Managing Editor dottie@azaleamag.com Katie DePoppe Editor at Large katie@azaleamag.com Margie Sutton Style Editor Will Browning Faith Editor

T

he Ponds is a place to bring up a family. A community where kids can still be kids: exploring trails, playing in the pool or riding bikes to the new Y. The land itself has a rich history that spans generations and will be loved for many more to come. It’s everything Lowcountry, and then some. Located on Hwy 17-A, 5.4 miles southwest of the Summerville Town Square, The Ponds has all the things you’re looking for in the place to call home, plus a few you haven’t thought of yet: • Centuries-old live oaks • Outdoor amphitheatre • On-site YMCA • Community activities • Restored 1800’s farmhouse

• Community pool and pavilion • Parks and playgrounds • 1,100 acre nature preserve • 20-mile trail system • Stocked fishing lakes

DiscoverThePonds.com • 843.832.6100

NOW BUILDING at The Ponds from $299,900 Palisade A

Palisade B

Jana Riley Copy Editor, Staff Writer

Contributors

Chris Campeau Jason Wagener Susan Frampton Charles F. Philips, Jr. Dr. Edward West

Advertising Jenefer Hinson jenefer@azaleamag.com 843.729.9669 Susan Frampton susan@azaleamag.com 843.696.2876 Azalea Magazine 114B E. Richardson Avenue Summerville, SC 29483 info@azaleamag.com www.azaleamag.com

Subscribe

Mungo Homes | DR Horton | Sabal Homes | HHHunt Homes | Saussy Burbank

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*Available for $16.99 a year (4 Issues). Visit azaleamag.com for details.


You’ re Not Just a Patient. You’ re Family. You’ re Not Just a Patient. You’ re Not Just a Patient. You’ re Family. You’ re Family.

We are moms, dads, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters. We understand Hanahan: Trident Office Pine Office the 9313 Medical Plaza Drive, Ste 202 404aNorth Pine Street complexities of navigating through today’s healthcare system. As member Hanahan Office North Charleston, SC 29406 Summerville, SC 29483 of1254 our family, promise to walk you572-1200 through life’s medical decisions—however Yeamans Hallwe Road (843) (843) 873-0202 Hanahan, SC 29410 large or small. Summerville Locations: (843) 554-8312 Summerville Office 213 West 4ththe North Street We are moms, dads, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters. We understand We treat our patients with kindness and respect. And most importantly, they find Ladson: Gum Street Office Summerville, SC 29483 complexities ofdads, navigating through today’s healthcare system. As(843) a member 412 North Gum comfort in knowing that ourdaughters, physicians haveStreet their bestsisters. interest at understand heart. And with We are moms, sons, brothers and We the 873-0681 Iron Horse Office Summerville, SC 29483 of our family, we promise to walk you through life’s medical decisions—however an urgent care accessible 7amtoday’s to 11pm everyday,system. we are even for complexities ofcenter navigating through healthcare As a there member 3495 Iron Horse Road (843) 873-1720 West 8th Office Ladson, SC 29456 large or small. life’s learn more or to life’s schedule an appointment, visit of ourunexpected family, we surprises. promise toTowalk you through medical decisions—however 102-A West 8thus North Street (843) 793-5970 Laurel Office Summerville, SC 29483 online PalmettoPrimaryCare.com. large oratsmall. We treat our patients with kindness andLaurel respect. find 507 North Street And most importantly, North Charleston: (843)they 871-9440 Summerville, SC 29483 comfort knowing that ourkindness physicians have their And bestmost interest at heart. And We treatinour patients with respect. importantly, theywith find (843)and 875-0600 Appian Office an urgent care center accessible 7am to 11pm everyday, we are even there for 5325 Appian comfort inWay knowing that our physicians have their best interest at heart. And with 843.572.7727 | PalmettoPrimaryCare.com Oakbrook Office North unexpected Charleston, SC 29420 life’s surprises. To learn7am more to schedule an we appointment, visit for us an urgent care center accessible to or 11pm are even there 87 Springview Lane, Steeveryday, B (843) 552-0400 online at PalmettoPrimaryCare.com. Summerville, life’s unexpected surprises. To learn more SC or 29485 to schedule an appointment, visit us (843) 875-0400

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You’ re Not Just a Patient. You’ re Family. Champion

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8/28/12 2:07 PM


Presents the 20th Running of the

Steeplechase

Tickets and reserved parking on sale at

www.charlestoncup.net

or call us at (843) 766-6202

Sunday, November 10, 2013 at The Plantation at Stono Ferry Hollywood, SC Gates open 9am, Paddock call at noon. Vendor Village • Tailgating • Hat Contest. Hat Contest is sponsored by The Hat Ladies with prizes in six categories for men, women, and children www.hatladies.org R ace Sponsors:


Featured Contributors

JASON WAGENER / Illustrator

Jason started his illustrious art career when he won a coloring contest in 3rd grade, subsequently titling him "proud owner of a Mickey Mouse dry erase board." He moved to the Lowcountry in 1990, and save an education at The Savannah College of Art and Design, has remained a faithful transplant ever since.

CHRIS CAMPEAU / Writer

Chris is a barbecue enthusiast and Southern culture aficionado. While JANA RILEY / raised in the Deep South, he spent Writer and Copy Editor time in Southeast Asia, Bermuda, Jana is a writer and editor living and most recently, Europe. You in Summerville with her husband, can find him and his lovely wife Dan. Jana enjoys adventures with chasing their three children on her three favorite kids, Noah, Jude, ball fields and in barbecue joints Forest, and their dog, Alfie. throughout the Lowcountry.

SUSAN FRAMPTON / Writer

Susan Frampton has called Summerville home for almost thirty years with husband Lewis, daughter Sara, and a myriad of dogs, chickens, turtles, and snakes.

Proudly Announcing S u m m e rv i l l e m e d i c a l c e n t e r

Pediatrics Emergency and inpatient pediatric services close to home. It’s something every family deserves. SMC now provides pediatric care for newborns to age 17, with 24-7 access. And, this summer, we will unveil our beautiful new Pediatrics Emergency Department and Inpatient Unit, created just for our young patients. Residents of Dorchester County, North Charleston and surrounding communities are now just minutes from emergency pediatric services. As a national leader in quality care, SMC is proud to make this healthy commitment to our kids.

Summerville is MY Hospital Visit tridenthealthsystem.com/smc to follow our PEDS progress!


Steeped in

Heritage. Future. Primed for the

20

00

At JOHNSON & WILSON Real Estate Company you will find an innovative real estate firm that offers a wide range of residential and commercial services. You’ll also find a hand-selected network of talented agents who take pride in their company, driven by the passion for the communities in which they live and work.

< Tiffany Johnson-Wilson Broker-In-Charge


A BRIEF LOOK INTO OUR LOCAL CULTURE

THE FACTS The tea plant made its U.S. landing in Summerville.

- Sweet Tea -

In 2010, Azalea declared Summerville the “Birthplace of Sweet Tea.” Here are the facts and exciting events that happened in response to our original declaration. To read the article that started it all, visit azaleamag.com and click on the mason jar.

Summerville was the site of the first commercial tea plantation as well as the government’s tea farm.

The Town of Summerville had the phrase “Birthplace of Sweet Tea” trademarked. The Summerville Restaurant Association, along with Summerville D.R.E.A.M., held their first Sweet Tea Festival.

For years it was believed that sweet iced tea was first introduced at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair—the same year Summerville’s Dr. Charles Shepard won first prize for his Oolong tea; however, Pat Villmer of the St. Louis World’s Fair Society writes that it “wasn’t invented at the World’s Fair. The good people of the South were serving iced tea in their homes long before the fair.” Years prior to the Fair, an article documenting the reunion of Confederate soldiers provides evidence that iced tea had been consumed years prior to the popular 1904 account of Dr. Shepard adding ice to his tea.

THE RESPONSE

Summerville’s Department of Tourism formed the “Sweet Tea Trail” to help guide tourists through the five districts to town and offering monthly trolley tours. Local businesses have joined the celebration by offering products like sweet tea cupcakes, sweet tea jam, sweet tea body scrub, sweet tea pork chops, and sweet tea coasters and t-shirts. In 1963, Charleston Tea Plantation bought Pinehurst Plantation and transplanted the remaining tea plants to its Wadmalaw Island location. Charleston Tea Plantation produces American Classic Tea®, the official tea of the White House since 1987.

Local media outlets like the Post and Courier and WCBD News 2 validated Summerville’s claim as the “Birthplace of Sweet Tea.”

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Field Guide Tea

much as you put in." After PGS, I was able to apply this to practically anything I did, and I plan to apply it to everything in the future.

Q Who or what are you a fan of ? A I'm a huge fan of running! I believe that

running is truly the most challenging sport because its 80% mental, and only you can push your limits.

Q A

Sugar

I like my milk and sugar with a little bit of coffee, if you know what I mean. It's exam week's only lifeline.

MEET & GREET

What makes locals tick, one neighbor at a time

Q& A

ANYA BUNA O Senior Class President Summerville High School

LO C A L FA R E / S W E E T T E A C O N T E S T

SECOND ANNUAL

SE P T. 1 9 , 5p m- 8p m As a part of Summerville Dream's Third Thursday Festivities

®

®

Q What is your favorite thing about living in the Lowcountry?

A

Being so close to all the different bodies of water we have. Whether it's a beach day with friends or a day on the boat with my family, I can guarantee a good day on the water.

Q What is your dream job? A When I grow up, (cliche, I know) I want

to be an event planner. I think it would be so interesting listening to people's ideas and bringing them to life. Let's just hope the economy keeps my dreams alive.

Q Is there a motto that you live by? A At Palmetto Girls State (PGS) this year, we were told: "You only get out of this as

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Coffee or tea?

FALL 2013

Q

What is one thing you've bought in the last five years that you couldn’t live without?

A My Nalgene water bottle is definitely something that I couldn't live without. I consider myself an aquaholic–always staying hydrated. Q

What is one thing you've bought in the last five years that you could go the rest of your life without?

A A couple years ago, I did chores for like a month to get this sweet long board. A few weeks later I learned how to drive, and my long board unfortunately became something that I could live without.

Q What is your favorite music? A Sublime is my all-time favorite band. I could

listen to them forever and never get tired of it.

Q What would be your dream vacation? A To spend a summer visiting a country

on every continent. I want to have as much global perspective as possible.

Q What is your fondest memory of living in Summerville?

A I have been very lucky to grow up in such a close-knit town like Summerville. Everyone is friendly and willing to lend a hand. Chances are you have a mutual friend with nearly anyone you meet. AM


Explore

Sweet Tea Trail

B L A Z IN G T H E T RA I L A new venture that highlights the five districts of Summerville Summerville, SC is quickly becoming known for more than flora and pigskin. We are the official “Birthplace of Sweet Tea,” and with this new distinction comes new ventures, like the Sweet Tea Trail. Designed to help visitors and locals alike explore the wonderment of Summerville, the Trail guides folks from the I-26 interchange at exit 199 through the five districts of town—offering uniquely Southern dining, shopping, historical, and cultural experiences along the way. Beginning with the shops and restaurants at Azalea Square, travelers are led toward historic downtown Summerville for distinctive and authentic entertainment, shopping, and dining offerings. Next, it’s on to Azalea Park which marks the start of a self-guided walking tour of fine historic homes. From there, visitors are led to Colonial Dorchester State Park, the historical hub of early Dorchester. The Trail then concludes in the scenic Plantation District which features Middleton Place, Magnolia Gardens, and Drayton Hall Plantation.

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Field Guide Apothecary

HE A LTH NU T

Coconut Oil

If you are like me and have become addicted to Pinterest, youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve undoubtedly come across a ton of pins that discuss the hundreds of health and beauty benefits, as well as household uses, for coconut oil. After buying a jar for myself from Godâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Green Acre in Summerville, I am now a firm believer that unrefined, organic, extra virgin coconut oil is a must-have in every household pantry and medicine cabinet. Compiled here are a few of my favorite uses for coconut oil, although this is only a fraction of the comprehensive list. I encourage you to search and see for yourself how versatile and helpful this natural oil can be. by Dottie Rizzo

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U SE S F O R C O C O NUT OIL Benefits Of Taking Internally: • a healthy replacement for butter in cooking • boosts metabolism and supports healthy thyroid function • believed to help prevent or reverse Alzheimer's • speeds healing of fungal infections when taken internally and used externally • a tablespoon melted into a cup of warm tea can help sooth a sore throat • some evidence shows that the beneficial fats in coconut oil can help with depression and anxiety as well as diabetes Benefits For Skin: • anti-aging facial moisturizer • prevents stretch marks during pregnancy • great massage oil • mix with equal amounts of sugar for a smoothing body scrub • great for removing eye makeup with no skin-harming chemicals • softens lips and heals chapped lips • soothes psoriasis or eczema • great as a natural shaving cream • can be used as a natural deodorant Benefits For Hair: • a tiny dab helps prevent frizz • helps get rid of cradle cap • great as a deep conditioner for dry hair • promotes hair growth and prevents dandruff Other Uses: • use to soften and condition leather (test small area first) • mix with a splash of lemon juice and use as a furniture polish • mix with a little baking soda to remove sticky residue left behind by adhesives • removes rust from scissors or knives by coating with oil for an hour then rinsing

These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA). These products are not meant to diagnose, treat, or cure any disease or medical condition. Please consult your doctor before starting any exercise or nutritional supplement program or before using this or any product during pregnancy or if you have a serious medical condition.

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Field Guide Drink

PROHI BI TI ON S WE E T TE A

Iced tea sweetened with sugar cane and mixed with rumâ&#x20AC;&#x201C;yum Ingredients (makes 4 cocktails) 2 cups black tea (strong brewed black tea chilled) 1 cup ice (additional for serving) 3/4 cup rum 10 tbsp cane syrup 1/4 cup juice (freshly squeezed, 2 to 3 lemons optional) Garnish: 4 lemon (wedges) Directions: - Combine tea, ice, rum, cane syrup, and lemon - Stir well and serve in ice-filled glasses - Garnish with lemon wedge www.seriouseats.com

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LIFE S

O

U

T

H

E

R

N

Sweet Frances

Following Charleston's Frances Cone from the Holy City to the Borough of Churches by

Katie DePoppe

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If the true measure of a vocalist’s talent is how they sound in person, then Frances Cone is the real deal. Known as Christina by the locals who know and love her, the Charleston native, Fort Dorchester alum, and College of Charleston graduate, first honed her gentle lilting voice through numerous Lowcountry church doors. Later as a dance and political science major at the College of Charleston, Cone upped the ante on her dream to one day sing for audiences beyond Charleston as she became increasingly comfortable playing gigs in cafes and coffee houses. So, it was no surprise and with little contemplation, that following graduation, she made her way to New York City. “It was just the next thing…like a grade level almost,” she says, “middle school, then high school, then college, then New York.” The miles didn’t take her away from the Holy City entirely though. Anyone who didn’t sleep through the local music scene in the late

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FRANCES CONE "Come Back" Released February 26, 2013

nineties and early 2000s know her current band mates, Owen Beverly and Ward Williams. Beverly, a talented songwriter and musician who played alongside Charleston’s Cary Ann Hearst, The Working Title, Leslie, and Jump, Little Children ( JLC) to name a few; and Williams, former cellist and guitarist for JLC, are both close friends who have helped Cone to hone her skills and grow as an artist.


While the sweet, smoky vocals of the musically gifted teen who was once inclined to sing a show tune or two is still overt, there’s a subtle ruggedness to Cone’s vocal sensibilities as she nears thirty. Hers is a voice that’s experienced things now— one that delivers lyrics which comfort, challenge, and evoke a world of delicate sensibilities, while lightening the burden of life’s heartbreaks by merely remarking on the heavy. “There's perspective on every corner and the community of people is so filling,” she says of her home away from home since 2005. Already acclaimed by the likes of Vanity Fair, American Songwriter, Paste, and Brooklyn Vegan, the group’s authenticity and captivating melodies are undeniable. And it doesn’t look like they’ll be going away any time soon. With shows scheduled across the U.S. in 2013—and some sold out—the songs and dreams of these transplanted Charlestonians are alive and well. France Cone’s “Come Back” album debuted in February 2013.

one night - your masterpiece

SIP N PAINT

How did you originally team up with Owen Beverly and Ward Williams? I'd been a pretty big Ward Williams fan for many years and then met him in Brooklyn at a birthday party in 2006. We hit it off and started playing music together a few months later. He's such a wonderful human and ridiculously talented. I met Owen up here through the same crowd of Charleston folks and we started playing together about a year ago. He's one of the best songwriters I know. I'm so honored and lucky to play with these guys. Tell us about the history behind the name Frances Cone. Francis is both my dad's and great grandfather's name and they were also both born on  September 11th. I threw an e in there to make it feminine and went for it! It was important for me to keep Cone, and the name Francis runs so deep and feels so meaningful and grounding. Why Brooklyn? Moving to NYC/Brooklyn wasn't really a conscious decision. I got here and immediately asked myself, "What have I done?" After I got over the initial shock of it all, I grew to love this place so, so much… and man, oh man…when you accomplish something here, it feels so great. 

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Sweet Frances continued

Where do you see your music in five years? Who knows what the music industry will be like in 5 years? Who knows what will happen in 6 months? I, for one, love that there are a million ways to do this now. It can get frustrating because there are so many paths to choose from, but I think it's exciting. The internet has allowed so many people to express themselves musically on a broad scale who probably wouldn't have been able to do so with the old label model and it can get tricky and crowded, but I think it's wonderful. What’s the main purpose in the music you write? I'm so deeply affected by other people's music—it means almost everything. Patty Griffin's album Living With Ghosts got me through my first year in New York, and I remember riding the subway one day and thinking what an amazing power that was, and is…and to be a part of something like that was bigger than big. AM

S U M M E RV I L L E b 8 4 3 . 8 7 1 . 5 8 8 8 b V I N TA G E H A I R S T U D I O . U S M o n 9 - 4 , Tu e s - F r i 9 - 7 , S a t 9 - 4

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Serving up Southern Author Pat Branning

chefs, this second installment of Dixieland goodness echoes what we've been saying all along: the porch and Momma's cooking are the heart and soul of the South. Magnolias, Porches, and Sweet Tea By Pat Branning Lydia Inglett Ltd. Available Now

CAROLINA GOLD RICE PUDDING w/Sugared Pecans Inspired by Chef Tom Ferrell, Berkeley Hall, Bluffton, S.C.

3 tablespoons unsalted butter 1 quart whole milk 1 cup Carolina Gold rice 1 vanilla bean, split or (1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract) 1/3 cup golden raisins 1 cup sugar 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 cup chopped sugared pecans

SOUTHERNSPOTLIGHT Pat Branning (Food)

Acquired Tastes

Beaufort writer and foodie, Pat Branning, releases her second book celebrating Southern cuisine by Katie DePoppe Pat Branning first showcased her love of Lowcountry heritage in her visual, culinary collage Shrimp, Collards & Grits— Recipes, Stories, and Art from the Creeks and Gardens of the Lowcountry in 2011. Featuring nearly 200 local recipes, the fullcolor coffee table book also includes 150 fine art paintings by noted Southern talents Ray Ellis, Nancy Ricker Rhett, John Carroll Doyle, and Joe Bowler. After much local acclaim — and a release that coincided with the Beaufort, SC, Tricentennial — Branning is back. In fall 2013, she will debut her second full-color recipe/art combo entitled Magnolias, Porches & Sweet Tea—Recipes, Stories, & Art from the Lowcountry. A blend of art, photography, humorous and heartwarming tales, and a plethora of new takes on old favorites from world-class

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• Toss in a small amount of water, just to moisten. Toss in granulated sugar to coat. Bake in 350˚ oven for 5 - 10 min. • In a heavy-duty stock pot, heat milk with butter and vanilla to the point of boiling. Add rice at this point, while stirring with a wooden spoon. • Continue to cook the rice according to package directions, stirring to prevent rice from sticking to the bottom of the pot. • The starch from the rice will thicken the milk after about 30 minutes. When this occurs, add raisins, sugar, and cinnamon. Simmer an additional 5-10 minutes. • Turn off the heat once thickened but not thick enough to where the spoon will stand up. Remove vanilla bean, if using. Sprinkle with sugared pecans.

First Course

Branning's first book, Shrimp, Collards, & Grits, can be found alongside her new title wherever local books are sold in the greater Summerville-Charleston area. For those with deeper culinary interests, find her at the Savannah Food and Wine Festival held November 11-17, 2013, in Savannah, Georgia.


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The Ponds Farmhouse (History)

Living History

Fredreik Schulz and the Boys of Summerville by Charles F. Philips, Jr. and Dr. Edward West

If American history were contained in attic trunks, we of the Lowcountry would own one of the largest. Our trunk is so full of stuff, we could sift through it all afternoon and not find the bottom because new history is always waiting under the cover of the next little box of old letters, tied up in ancient pink ribbons. Just as Facebook and Twitter indelibly document the details of our lives today, the people who lived one or two centuries ago left written records of the heroic and mundane which help explain who we are now.

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One such individual was Fredreik Schulz, a rice planter and surveyor of St. George’s Parish (modern Dorchester County), and the former owner of The Ponds in Summerville. Early Life, 1822-1861. Fredreik Cantey Schulz was the son of John Christopher Gottfried Schulz, who came to the United States in 1790, and Susan Fludd Cantey Schulz, daughter of seventeenth century Ashley River settlers. In March 1818 John Schulz purchased 1,203 acres of the Ponds Plantation from the executors of the estate of Revolutionary War veteran, John Glaze. Schulz expanded the plantation adding adjacent lands and invested heavily in slaves to work his rice and cotton fields.  The Schulz family lived at what is today The Ponds, and in 1829 they purchased a summer home in the growing settlement of Summerville. Here they “marooned” during the hot malarial summer months. Like planters all over the Lowcountry, rice planter families sought high, cooler ground away from the disease-ridden lowlands whose fields of rice in standing water produced “miasma” – the odor of rotting vegetation (i.e. the smell of marshes). The illness produced from the miasma was “country fever,” known now as malaria.


The Schulz home in the old section of town was located on the east side of West Carolina Street (then called “The Great Thoroughfare”) just north of Five Points. Their home served as a meeting place for members of St. Paul’s Stono Parish Episcopal Church in the 1830s (today’s St. Paul’s Episcopal). John Schulz was a politically-connected writer, and a series of letters written to a daughter about his regional travels and the influential people therein, remain preserved today. Some record a series of interesting visits with Vice President John C. Calhoun.  It was while visiting John E. Calhoun, a cousin of the vice president, that Schulz took ill and died suddenly on September 25, 1833. His death at fifty-four left his widow with several young children, among them, Fredreik Cantey and his unmarried sister, Maria Boyd. Susan Schulz acquired the portion of the Ponds Plantation that included the settlement area from her husband’s estate and continued to manage it. By the 1840s Susan was living in Charleston and her son Fredreik had taken over management of the Ponds for his mother. Susan Schulz died in 1852 and in her will she bequeathed her estate to all her children but specified that “The Ponds I desire to be a home and a support to my two unmarried children Maria and Fredreik.” During these years Fredreik managed The Ponds and pursued surveying of local lands. In May 1849 he completed a survey of the old Town of Summerville at the same time the railroad was laying out the new town. The railroad later designated the proposed residential

settlement as “New Summerville,” and the area along Richardson Avenue, south of the present railroad, was developed. During the 1850s, Fredreik acquired direct ownership of all the present Ponds Plantation and made it his home.   The Isaac P. Smith Incident.  Fredreik C. Schulz enlisted with A. C. Andersons Company, 1st South Carolina Mounted Militia, in November 1861 at Stallsville near his home.  He served with this unit for two months and was promoted to first lieutenant. In January he was commanding the unit when it was dissolved.  In April the unit was merged into Company F, 3rd (Palmetto) Battalion, South Carolina Light Artillery.  In June 1862, Schulz was promoted to captain, and F Company took the name Schulz’s Battery for the remainder of the war.  Most of the men initially enrolled were from Summerville, and that Schulz was elected captain by the company.   Schulz’s unit was stationed in the Charleston area and was engaged with Federal forces in actions at James Island, Johns Island, Adams Run, and Edisto Island and in the defense of the Charleston-Savannah railroad line.  The close proximity of Schulz’s stationing allowed him to be in regular contact with the manager of his plantation at The Ponds and also to get intelligence about movements of bodies of soldiers in lower Charleston and Colleton counties. In September and October of 1862, he was ordered to the Summerville area to enroll conscripts for the new unit. 

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Living History continued

Reports of Union activity reached Confederate command in Charleston and sparked ideas of an ambush. Late in January 1863, Confederate artillery and infantry units were ordered to encamp and hide themselves along the upper Stono River on both the James and Johns Island side of the river. Schulz’s company was encamped at Grimball’s farm on the Johns Island or west bank of the Stono. They muscled two 12-pounder Napoleon cannons into Mr. Grimball’s carriage house and closed the door that opened onto the river side. Other guns were concealed behind marsh brush along the river bank. The carriage house was a particularly sore point for the Confederates as someone had drawn a charcoal figure on the building and Union officers from the gunboat would use the figure as target practice for their small arms while the boat anchored in the river. The Confederate commander established a plan to lure the gunboat up river passed several artillery units who could then trap the boat and sink or capture it. A messenger from the signal corps was to notify the artillerymen when the USS Isaac Smith was under way so that they could quickly man their posts unobserved and spring the ambush from both sides of the river as the gunboat retreated back down the river. However, the best laid plans often go astray and late notice of the gunboat’s approach did not reach Schulz’s men until the ship was nearly at their position. Somehow the ships lookout did not spot the cannoneers racing across an open meadow to man their weapons hidden in the carriage house and the ship passed the hidden guns without incident. The trap was sprung as the ship went further upstream. As the first guns opened on the ship, Schulz’s men manhandled their weapons out of the carriage house and out into the open land in front of the marsh. They were protected by a small fence. The guns above Grimball’s farm drove the Union gunboat The Isaac Smith back down river toward the inlet, firing at the Confederates as it went. Schulz’s guns joined the attack along with Confederate artillery on the opposite side of the river as the ship neared their position. One of the shells fatally damaged the vent for the boiler on the ship, stranding it and setting it adrift without power. The ship became a sitting duck for the artillery and as shells began striking it inflicting heavy casualties the captain raised a white flag. Along with the other batteries, Captain Schulz and his men ceased fire to watch officers arrange the surrender as the sharp highlights of the golden glow of the sky, the river and the marsh were painted by the setting sun. Suddenly a federal relief gunboat appeared firing at the negotiating men as it came to the rescue of the disabled ship. However, it was turned away by

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other Confederate batteries that had yet to commit to the trap and the Isaac Smith was secured. Fredreik Schulz and his men retired with a tale to tell one day to their grandchildren.   A Court Martial and the End of the War. In February 1864, Schulz applied to the adjutant general “for giving my overseer [of my plantation] a pass to pass through my wagons and crops [to] Slans Bridge with provisions for myself [sic] and family, as the picket there will not allow him to do so now.” About this same time, his plantation served as a refuge for the besmirched captain while he stood trial in a court martial. In December 1863 Schulz was accused of neglect of duty, abuse of government horses, and conduct unbecoming of an officer and demanded a court martial.  They also claimed that he was a habitual liar, lacking a veracity, and embezzling funds from soldiers under his command. Assistant Adjutant General, Colonel A. Romans' official report states that the embezzlement charge had no merit and that “Captain Schultz [sic] is a man of large means... [and] would not risk his position in the Army and Society by appropriating to his own use a small sum of money due to one of his men.” In late February 1864, Schulz was arrested and ordered to stand trial on the charges presented by the officers. On March 8, Schulz asked permission of the chief of staff that “during my arrest, I be allowed to go to, and remain at my plantation in St. Georges Parish.” Schulz remained at his plantation for nearly eight months in 1864. He was exonerated of all charges and was granted 10 days of extended leave in October. In all likelihood the issue was a personal one involving petty jealousies. It stands as a classic example of how these petty issues between southern families could be maintained and even hold up the Southern war effort at a critical time in the fighting. In November he returned to his unit. Schulz’s Battery remained in the Charleston area and joined the retreat of Confederate troops northward when Charleston was abandoned to the Federal army in February 1865. Schulz surrendered with his unit near New Smithfield, N.C, in April 1865.  Schulz returned to his home at The Ponds in 1865 after his parole and resumed his surveying and farming.  In 1866, he was hired by Henry A. Middleton to manage his extensive lands in the area. In a series of letters to Middleton, Schulz addressed efforts to prevent trespassers from taking lumber and otherwise planting illegally on the Middleton lands.  These letters provide interesting commentary on the confusing times following the war when planters returned to the area and attempted to reclaim


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lands from squatters. Schulz returned to his surveying business, and a number of surveys he completed after the war exist among the McCrady plats. The 1880 U.S. Census of Dorchester Township, Schulz listed himself as a surveyor, age fifty-eight, living at The Ponds. Sometime prior to 1891, Schulz divided his property and sold off the sections.  Apparently, none of the deeds were recorded and when Edward Lotz bought the entire tract that year, he obtained quit claim deeds from the various individuals who had acquired the land from Schulz. Schulz remained in the Summerville area and died there in 1895. A monument to him is located in the St. Paul’s Episcopal Church graveyard in Summerville. The memory of Fredreik Schulz has largely faded away today. His vast plantation on the upper Ashley, now ripe for new residential construction, has a single monument to his name – “Schulz Lake Road” – and even that is often misspelled “Schultz.” But in his day, he gave us survey lines that defined our properties, and he captured a U.S. flag that still rests in the Confederate Museum in downtown Charleston. Maybe we should toast him, at least momentarily, at Oktoberfest this fall. AM Research for this article was conducted in primary and secondary sources located in the Charleston RMC Office, South Carolina Historical Society, and the South Carolina Room of the Charleston Public Library in Charleston. The authors also reviewed materials in the Colleton County and Dorchester County court houses in Walterboro and St. George respectively. Additionally, the authors reviewed primary and secondary materials in a variety of locations including the Caroliniana Library and the Cooper Library at the University of South Carolina in Columbia, SC, the Valentine Museum in Richmond, VA, the Chicago Historical Society in Chicago, IL, as well as the private papers of the Schulz-Burden family. The authors would especially like to thank Mr. Henry Schulz Burden, Mrs. Debbie Engleman, and Mr. James Boyle for providing access to their family papers, and Mr. John Morgan and Ms. Therese Munroe of The Ponds development for aiding in the production of this article.  Dr. Edward West is a Summerville pediatrician and is preparing a book on the subject of Summerville and the Civil War. Charles F. Philips, Jr. is a historian for Brockington and Associates, a cultural resource company located in Charleston.

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Miss Rina in her kitchen / Filling the jars with Sweet Tea Jelly

SOUTHERNSPOTLIGHT Rina's Kitchen (Food)

Jam Sessions

Out in the country, a small Italian woman has brought about a renaissance of the Southern art of canning and preserving by Susan Frampton Down a winding road on the outskirts of Summerville, two distinctively different worlds have come together. Old World Italy and the rural American South might not seem to have much of a common denominator, unless you’ve found your way to Rina’s Kitchen. Complete with church pew and rocking chairs, the vinecovered front porch is a pure slice of Americana, and the jars lining the shelves inside are reminiscent of an old country store one might find down a dirt road in any Southern state. Miriam Baxter, a blue-eyed woman with a no-nonsense manner,

shakes my hand as I walk through the door. “Mama’s in the back cookin’,” she says, opening the door leading me to the heart of the business. A tiny woman walks away from a simmering pot to greet me. The moment she speaks, her heavily-accented English conjures up images of checkered tablecloths and wax covered Chianti bottles, but the aroma of something sweet and southern in the air is more the flavor of my grandmother’s house in Georgia than Italy. Rina Palmer, or “Miss Rina” as she is known to most, has called the Lowcountry home since 1978, settling on six acres of land near the Summerville Airport. When her husband, Jack, bought the property, its twenty-seven pecan trees were the only attributes. “We cried and cried when he told us,” she said. “None of us wanted to move that far out in the country.” Before coming to South Carolina, the family spent 23 years moving from place to place: Texas, Illinois, Oklahoma, and Kansas. But it was in Tennessee that her mother-in-law taught her to preserve vegetables from the garden, a talent she brought with her when they settled in Summerville. Her first foray into business netted her $6 from the sale of six jars of strawberry preserves. Rina’s life reads like a novel you cannot put down. She remembers the terror she felt at the sound of sirens and the feel of explosives shaking her home in Udine, Italy, during World War II—so close to the action that a bomb hit directly on her bed. It was nothing less AZALEAMAG.COM

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Jam Sessions continued

than a miracle that she was not there. She is matter-of-fact about her difficult childhood. As was common during wartime, when her mother could no longer care for her, she was sent to live in a Catholic orphanage where she stayed until the age of fourteen. She then lived with an aunt in Bergamo, near Milan, returning to her mother only years later. By age nineteen, her close resemblance to the iconic Italian sex symbol Gina Lollobrigida had men following her down the streets of Italy, but things changed when she met her future husband, Jack Palmer. Introduced by a friend to the big, handsome, twenty-seven-year-old American stationed in Italy with the Air Force, Rina was soon smitten. Jack treated her to her first hamburger, and after only four or five dates, he brought a cake to her house and told her he wanted to marry her. That was March. They were married on July 20th. “We had two weddings,” Rina explains, “one in English and one in Italian,” because neither spoke the other’s language. She and her new husband left Italy in October, on her twentieth birthday, only one day after receiving her passport. Upon their arrival in New York via the USNS Geiger, the couple promptly boarded a bus for Jack’s hometown in Tennessee. The journey took its toll on the new bride, and she quickly realized life in America was not all that she hoped it would be. Homesick, and by this time pregnant with their first child, Rina was overwhelmed by her new surroundings. Unable to read or speak English, she was lonely, and her marriage turned tumultuous. Even the food was foreign; each night she took her husband’s change and snuck to the grocer’s to buy pasta and tomato sauce. She even became ill with toxemia which threatened her life and the baby’s. When she gave birth to Miriam, the first of her two daughters, Jack was proud. “She was so tiny and beautiful, and blonde, just

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like him,” Rina remembers. Having a child gave her a new perspective and she and Jack were able to work through their problems. Soon, Barbara, a second daughter was born. “He handled everything,” she says, always making sure that her needs were met. “To this day, I have never even written a check.” Miriam handles all of that now, just as she did at age six when her father was serving in Vietnam. “Mom wasn’t too good at writing in English,” so Miriam wrote the

By age nineteen, her close resemblance to the iconic Italian sex symbol Gina Lollobrigida had men following her down the streets of Italy

checks as well as the letters her mother sent overseas to her father. Though Rina lost Jack last year after 55 years of marriage, she is still amazed that he made plans to assure she would be well-taken care of. “I never knew about any of that, until he was gone,” she says, her eyes damp with emotion. Today, amidst the stainless steel colanders, stoves and cookers, Rina has stirred up an empire in her commercial kitchen, turning out 300 jars of products each day, four days a week. She began making preserves in a tiny storage shed Jack built beside the house, but she soon outgrew that space. The garden where she grew many of her ingredients gave way to a new work space, although fig trees she propagated still dot

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It’s a big world out there… are you protected? Jam Sessions continued

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the landscape. The building now includes not only the kitchen, but also a huge warehouse, a walk-in cooler, and a small shop which is open to both wholesale customers and the public. Over fifty varieties of jams and jellies line the shelves, along with pickles and relishes, pie fillings, preserves and syrups, but the aroma of Summerville Sweet Tea Jelly, Rina’s newest creation, fills the kitchen today. Made from loose tea leaves steeped for 20 minutes, its scent resembles molasses. “Well you know, we Southerners like our tea extra sweet,” laughs Rina. The idea for the jelly, first suggested by Tina Zimmerman, Tourism Coordinator for the Greater Summerville Chamber of Commerce, spurred Rina and Miriam to experiment until they found the perfect combination. Introduced at this year’s Flowertown Festival, they sold 186 jars over the course of the weekend, and the uniquely flavored jelly is now a best seller at the weekly Farmer’s Market where the two women are regulars. It also continues to be in great demand by gift shops and online customers. While Rina is the boss when it comes to cooking, Charlene, an employee of twelve years is in charge of the kitchen’s quality control and oversees the filling of the jars, while Peggy, a six-year veteran of the kitchen, handles closing and sealing. After processing in the traditional hot water bath, jars will sit up until the next day, when Miriam will place labels and fill orders.

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Through the years they have combined tried and true recipes with inventions of their own. Miriam, who handles the business end of the operation, admits that on occasion they have learned the hard way. While they rely on science to test the pH balance of pickles and relishes, and have been certified by the FDA as well as DHEC, they have also found themselves using advice based on wives tales. Too much foam in your strawberry jam? Add a bit of butter. Hands on fire from handling jalapenos? Apply white toothpaste. “We always have a tube nearby,” she says. You won’t find that remedy in any recipe book.


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Visitors are always welcome in Rina’s Kitchen. She loves what she does, and loves to teach the art of canning and preserving. While today she is answering amateur canning questions, each fall, she hosts the company’s signature

Over fifty varieties of jams and jellies line the shelves, along with pickles and relishes, pie fillings, preserves and syrups

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Jam Good Time—an event that showcases her trade and features appetizers, entrees, and desserts made from the Kitchen’s impressive line-up of delicious products. Her eyes light up as she describes the regulars who return to the event year after year. Though she may have come to the United States as an uncertain young Italian girl, today Rina Palmer is as American as— well—her apple pie filling. It even seems she still has an eye for tall, handsome Americans. Her favorite shows are Bonanza and Gunsmoke, and she schedules her day to make sure she doesn’t miss them. This year she will take a break from her Southern kitchen to return to Italy for the first time since 1986, and this time she will take three granddaughters along to introduce them to her homeland. A perfect marriage indeed. AM

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NATURAL WOMAN

Lost in Translation by Susan Frampton

I feel the stress of a long day begin to melt away as I watch the sun dip over the lake. At my husband’s suggestion, we’ve motored out to watch the sunset, and it is a beautiful evening to be on the water. Already streaks of pink and orange kiss the clouds, and shortly the fire-colored ball in the sky will disappear behind the horizon. This was a great idea. I have just turned my face into the soft breeze, when suddenly a fish zings by my head; a fish head, to be exact. Sailing over the rail, sending droplets of some awful fish juice into my eyes and the disgusting smell of not-so-fresh fish into the air, I hear the “plop” as it hits the water. I’ve not yet recovered when the tail half follows, headed to a spot somewhere behind my head. The assault continues until, by my count, the assorted parts of at least four

fish are swallowed up by the lake, with red bobbers marking their points of entry. When it’s safe to raise my head, I look to see my husband standing with hands on hips, proudly surveying the flotilla he has successfully launched. Without missing a beat he squints at me from behind polarized sunglasses, “Um, you’ve got some fish scales,” he points to my cheek, “right there.” At moments like this, I long for the ability to blink my eyes and transport him to the middle of a Black Friday sale at Bloomingdale’s. I also regret not owning a Taser. And though he is 99.9% responsible for my misconception that the purpose of this outing was to actually watch the sun set, I have to admit that some of the

ILLUSTRAT IONS BY JASON WA G E N E R AZALEAMAG.COM

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RAL NATU N WOMA

blame falls on me. I failed to listen for the unspoken but vital subtext delivered in the secret language he speaks so fluently. Had I been alert, I would have correctly translated “sunset cruise” as “sunset fishing trip,” and been much better prepared for the possibility of catching a fish in the face.

barrier between us simply results in each of us thinking that the other will call the cable company, pick up a gallon of milk, or take out the trash with the smelly shrimp shells before leaving for the weekend. (Though, in retrospect, the smell of those shrimp shells could have actually killed me.)

Actually, worse things have happened. Occasionally my lack of translation skills results in some type of bodily harm, and often the words aren’t as important as the subtle nuances. I’ve learned that when explicit instructions are given very, very slowly about the exact way one should stand on the base of a tall ladder as he lowers it to the ground, the loose translation is, “Prepare to flip through the air like a Flying Wallenda.” Learned that the hard way.

I’m betting that most husbands speak this secret language regularly; hopefully, with less dramatic consequences than our adven-

Sometimes I have to watch for body language to tell me what he is saying, and more than once the true meaning is lost in translation. The last time I turkey hunted with him comes to mind. We came to the top of a hill and spotted a fat spring gobbler. At his look, I squatted down behind a fallen log. Moving very slowly, he handed me his gun, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Ah, this must mean, “No, this gun won’t kick much.” Wrong. Translation: “Prepare to roll down the hill like a frozen Butterball on a sliding board.” But sometimes, I look too hard for the hidden meaning. It seems that the warning to, “Lean really hard to the left when we go up this steep embankment on the fourwheeler,” should be taken at face value, and is pretty sound advice unless you are up for a swim in some nasty swamp water. Lest you might be concerned that my life is in constant danger, most times the language

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Had I been alert, I would have correctly translated “sunset cruise” as “sunset fishing trip,” and been much better prepared for the possibility of catching a fish in the face. tures create. For us, it keeps life interesting and if that means I wear a few fish scales into the sunset, so be it. Besides, he has yet to catch on to the fact that I actually speak a secret language myself, and where I come from, “No sweetheart, I don’t mind if you fish while we’re out here,” means “Prepare to eat out every night next week.” But I’m still ordering that Taser. AM


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SUMMERVILLE’S FALL CHECK LIST catch a Friday night football game pick up fresh produce at the Saturday morning farmer’s market make it downtown for every Third Thursday take a hayride and vote for your favorite Scarecrow on the Square take in a play at the James F. Dean Theatre

DATE TO REMEMBER • Third Thursday-Every third Thursday 5pm to 8pm, Downtown Summerville • Farmer’s Market-Every Saturday morning 8am to 1pm, First Citizens Bank • Flowertown Players production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile, Oct. 18-Nov. 2 • Harvest Festival-Oct. 27th 6pm – 9pm, Town Square • Scarecrows on the Square-Oct. 19 – Nov. 2-Town Square


SOUTHERN RAMBLER

The Front Porch by Chris Campeau Nothing more clearly defines the southern home than the front porch. Ours is a foyer, a dining room, a place for naps, for reflection and for countless conversations. It’s the receiving area when company stops by unannounced. It’s the place for laughing over Sunday dinner with family and close friends; for cooling down with a glass of sweet tea after working all day in the garden; for carving jack-o'-lanterns and hanging Christmas lights; for healing scrapes and bruises from bike rides and falls; and for getting closer to the ones you hold dear. Front porches are reminders of the fading social philosophy that

we all need time to slow down. We need to unplug from technology and get to know our families and neighbors again. We need to relearn what it means to have gratitude and to appreciate the little things we take for granted, like God’s green earth. My love for them runs deep. I was raised in the country, on a red clay road that meandered between pine trees and cotton fields. I spent the summers fishing for mud cats, hunting snakes—and on countless nights after dinner—sitting with my parents on the porch. We rocked or drifted in the swing for hours watching the sun set and hearing

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ERN SOUTHLER RAMB

the woods come alive. I learned so much in those times—little things I may have never known otherwise—like if you listen closely enough, the sounds of the forest transform as day eases into night. From the porch, I was entranced by squirrels as they played in the trees, gathered their last meals of the day, and scurried home. I watched chimney sweeps and purple martins circle overhead, more quickly than seemed possible. The crickets played their symphonies so loud, that at times, it drowned out our conversations. At dark, the whippoorwills, hidden in the fields, called out. Owls silently floated by and settled in tall pines. And just beyond the porch, as the greatest backdrop of all time, were the heavens filled with stars.

I realized, with Divine clarity, the importance of what the front porch has represented in my life

We met on the porch to speak of our day and tell of the dreams of our lives to come. As a teenager, I talked about how things would be different when I got a little older and of the limitless possibilities of my life. Eventually, I grew up and went to the State College up the road. Those evenings on the porch with mom and dad happened less frequently until they were but a distant memory of my childhood. I blinked, and twenty years went by. Now I’m married and have my own children. And only in recent days have I realized, with Divine clarity, the importance of what the front porch has represented in my life. For us, slowing down was difficult; it even seemed impossible. It had become the norm

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to rush to and from work or school; to race from the next thing to the next. And when we were home, our interaction with the outside world was reduced to the television that was placed like an altar in the shrine of our living room. We’d become conditioned to know more about Hollywood’s dysfunctional celebrities than our own neighbors. We were missing out on what makes life important. So, a while back, I hung a porch swing to see what would happen—because I wanted my own children to experience what I had. Along with it, I added an old five-panel door that now serves as an outdoor table, a couple of rockers, and an American Flag, and the entrance to our home was instantly transformed from a dusty seldom-used trophy to one of the most treasured rooms of the house. Months have passed, and I can’t begin to tell you the difference in our lives. Since we reclaimed our porch, my baby girl has learned to ride her tricycle, and my boy has perfected blowing bubbles and throwing paper air planes. While my oldest, well, he’s discovered how to step off the stoop, dressed only in his skivvies, with arms widestretched, to catch a mouth full of rain in a summer storm. We now eat all our weekend meals on the porch and usually a couple dinners during the week. And it’s no longer unusual for our neighbors to walk by and see us laughing over dinner. We’ve found that food tastes a little better and conversations last a little longer when we’re there. This sacred part of our home now holds the stories of our days and the endless possibilities of dreams to come, just like the porch of my young days in the country. And although the view across the hydrangeas and under the dogwood tree is different than peering into the woodlands of my youth, it is my favorite view in town. That’s how I know I’m truly blessed. AM


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LIFE & FAITH

A Continuous Legacy by Will Browning In 2007, I moved with eleven adults and eight children from Louisville, Kentucky, to help plant the Journey Church in Summerville. It has been the ultimate mission trip. What I was not aware of was that I was treading on a sacred path moving to the Lowcountry to start a church much like another Will three hundred years my senior. In 1696, a shipbuilder from modern-day Maine, William Screven, moved to Charleston with fifty others to start the first

Baptist church in the South. Fast-forward three centuries and the church that Will Screven, the shipwright, started would be the flagship church for the largest protestant denomination in the worldâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the Southern Baptist Convention. This fact may not resonate with readers as much as it does with me, but the continued story of the First Baptist Church of Charleston echoes through American history like few other churches. In 1775, the American colonies were on the brink of war with

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Britain and the leaders of the nation had gathered in Philadelphia to decide the fate of our land. Back at home the majority of Charlestonians hoped to keep a good relationship with England for, as a port city, our primary source of income was trade with the motherland; however, Oliver Hart, the pastor of First Baptist Church, didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t share that sentiment. The fiery, charismatic preacher, along with two others, was selected to serve on the Council of Safety with the singular purpose of drumming up support in South Carolina for the colonial cause to declare our independence from Britain. The pastor from

Hidden in the shadows of our Holy Cityâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s steeples are quiet whispers of greatness. Buried in our gardens are heroes... Charleston helped ready the people for revolution. On June 28, 1776, a small band of South Carolina patriots defeated the British Royal Navy in the Battle of Sullivan's Island. Our boys, stationed at an unfinished palmetto log and sand fort near what is today Fort Moultrie, defeated a British naval force of nine warships who attempted to invade Charleston. Emboldened by this win on what we now celebrate as Carolina Day, our new

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LIFE & FAITH

nation’s leaders gathered in Philadelphia and signed the Declaration of Independence. This historic church would decide to take every penny of their church treasury and donate all their resources to the Constitutional Congress to fight the Revolutionary War. When the British took Charleston in the early campaigns of the war, Charleston Baptist Church was desecrated. Keenly aware of the church’s influence for the colonial cause, the crown knew its congregation and legacy must be put down. Nevertheless, sand-lappers are never quieted so easily. Hidden in the shadows of our Holy City’s steeples are quiet whispers of greatness. Buried in our gardens are heroes, forgotten by most and revered by the few. Our stories are hushed by rushed ears and cherished only by patient inquisitors. But their story . . . is OUR story. The strong, the brave, the unwavering have always found our marshland to be home. We are a people that shape history and God has washed you and I onto these shores to continue a legacy. We now stain this soil with our sweat, our tears, and our blood for a greater purpose than first imagined. Many other heroes have worn down the road that brought all of us to Charleston but nonetheless we are writing a new chapter. We are the composers of this chapter in the annals of this wonderful city we now call home. AM

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Historical research attributed to Baker, Robert A. and Paul J. Craven. History of the First Baptist Church of Charleston, South Carolina 1682-2007, with an update by R. Marshall Blalock. Springfield, Missouri: Particular Baptist Press, 2007. Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. Wikimedia Foundation Inc. Updated 17 April 2013, 9:55 UTC. Encyclopedia on-line. Available from http://en.wikipedia. org/wiki/Minor_American_Revolution_holidays. Internet. Retrieved 16 July 2013.

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Living Arrangements Florist Heidi Inabinet brings style and creativity home after the work day is done photos by Dottie Rizzo

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STYLE

Q What do you do for a living?

my designs an organic feel.

A I am a florist, but describing what that

Oh yeah, and our chickens come check on me several times a day, but that may be more amusing than inspiring.

encompasses could take a while.

So let’s just say: Some days I’m an artist and flowers are my medium….Other days I help flowers speak what the soul whispers. Love – Happiness – Sorrow – Life!

Q How would you describe your personal decorating style (home)?

Q

A Classically modern with a nod to the primitive vintage? I don't know, that's a hard one.

A Shifting On A Limb from a retail store

Q If you had to name your personal style,

How does having a studio on your property affect your creativity? to a home studio has been a wonderful journey. I tend to be more creative at night so not worrying about the time is really nice–creativity flows uninterrupted. Not to mention the garden is right outside my door. I love clipping scented geraniums, coleus, hosta leaves, branches, etc. to give

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what would you call it?

A I don’t have a name for it, but I have a goal, and that is to always feel calm and rested in my home. For guests to feel like they’ve come to a place they can retreat, relax and may be feel a bit pampered. cont. pg. 60


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"

Inspiration is in most anything. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s wherever you look for it to be.

"

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Visit Summerville's Permanent Public Sculpture collection

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STYLE

IN BLOOM Inabinet in her home studio

Q Does your work influence your personal style and vice versa? A I would say my personal style and my work

are bound together so that I cannot differentiate or even really define either. It’s all just me.

Q Where do you find inspiration? A Inspiration is in most anything.

It’s wherever you look for it to be. I will say that creativity breeds creativity, so when I am around other creative people, regardless of their medium, I get more creative.

Q Do you have any style icons? A

These days I have many floral industry people I look to; however, two sources I have held to over the years are: Martha Stewart. (Yes it’s true! I like her.)

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I like to watch what is trending for her– not to emulate, but to be aware of and then re-style to suit myself. She has a lot of trend influence for the floral consumer. And Heather Chadduck, who was the style editor for Cottage Living magazine. (now defunct). She just has great all-around personal style.

Q You have a lot of collections. What's your favorite? A That’s like trying to pick your favorite kid! They’re all my favorite! Each offers its own visual gift. Q Your doorbell plays "Dixie." What's that all about?

A In true Southern style, we inherited it with the house! AM


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STYLE Grass Roots

Angie Buxton and Janie Manning weave patterns from the past into the future of sweetgrass basket making

Local Character

WEAVING HISTORY WITH STYLE Janie Manning & Angie Buxton

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STYLE Local Character

tribute to the oldest recognized AfricanAmerican art form in the country.

Though the physical distance between Sierra Leone and the Lowcountry is some 4,500 miles, there is an undeniable link between the two. Scientists have long known that winds originating off the “Winward Coast” of West Africa are capable of creating huge waves along the coast of South Carolina, and their impact has twisted and turned the landscape of the Lowcountry for hundreds of years. In the 17th century, along with those winds there came a people and a culture which would also shape its future.

These days, Buxton and Manning collaborate on jewelry designs, making detailed drawings which lay out each twist and wrap. The drawings are then transferred to a computer, where a software program generates the plans for a mold. Next, the pieces are cast using the Lost Wax Method, the same process used for centuries to create fine sculpture. “Each piece is an original; they are not mass produced,” stresses Buxton. “Sometimes it takes up to 6 or 7 months just to reach the point where the mold is perfect.”

Brought to this continent against their will, and enslaved as a labor force, the people of West Africa were particularly sought after for their knowledge and experience in the cultivation of rice, a primary cash crop for the South. Along with this knowledge they brought with them the art of making the fanner baskets so useful for winnowing (sorting) rice. By the time of the Civil War, these unique tools evolved into what we know today as sweetgrass baskets, created from the plentiful grasses of the Lowcountry marshlands.

It only takes a few minutes with the dynamic pair to see that their energy and enthusiasm is infectious, and that’s before they even begin to unpack necklaces and earrings, bracelets and rings of shimmering silver and gold. They lay out tiny, perfect replicas of sweetgrass baskets; some that hang from delicate silver rice beads, some joined together to form links, and others that are presented as shiny coiled ropes in the shape of rings. Amazingly, the craftsmanship meticulously mimics the perfect rows sewn into baskets for centuries by the hands of those whose ancestors walked the shores of West Africa.

Centuries later, it may be hard to imagine that this story might change the life of a suburban mom in Charleston, SC, but along with her first introduction to the sweetgrass baskets found in stands lining Mount Pleasant’s Highway 17, Angie Buxton found a passion which would result in a new career path. A resident of Daniel Island, Buxton’s interest in the history of the baskets led her to research their journey from the African continent and the way the art of weaving was passed down from slaves who originally created the vessels to aid in harvesting rice along the east coast. She then sketched jewelry designs based on the baskets with the idea of honoring those who draw their livelihood today from making and selling the timeless pieces of art. Soon, sketches led to clay and wax models of the first pieces which would launch the fashionforward jewelry line. But getting a new venture off the ground was not easy for the single mom raising two children, so when a friend introduced Buxton to Janie Manning, the combined efforts of the two women brought Sweet Charleston Designs to life.

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Spreading the word through their jewelry has brought them friends from across the country and around the world. Although she makes her home in Raleigh, NC, Manning’s business and marketing background piqued her interest in Buxton’s concept. She quickly fell in love with the idea and came on board to help market and promote the company. Through their partnership, the two women began to spread the word, build their product line, and pay

Sweet Charleston Designs features distinctively different designs, with each collection representing a different area where sweetgrass basket-making is practiced. “This piece is from the SeeWee Bay Collection,” Manning says, holding up a quarter-sized medallion suspended by a silver chain. “One of the first questions we ask potential goldsmiths is whether or not they have experience in needlepoint or cross-stitch. It really helps to have that background of fine handwork. This design,” she says, pointing out the tiny bands which appear to hold together the silver coils, “is hand-wrapped with gold.” Gentlemen are not left out of their collections, which feature wedding bands and cuff links. In fact, Congressman James Clyburn sported cufflinks designed by the pair to the inaugural luncheon for President Obama. Though they do not sell the actual baskets, Buxton and Manning helped to bring international attention to the art form when they sent a basket to the U.S. State Department for presentation


Dr. Chellis has had success treating many conditions including: as a diplomatic gift from the President on a trip to India. In addition, they aided the U.S. Ambassador to Senegal in identifying sources for the unique baskets loaned for display in the embassy there. Spreading the word through their jewelry has brought them friends from across the country and around the world. While riding in a taxicab in New York, their driver from Mauritania inquired where the baskets they carried originated, telling them that his mother in Mauritania made her daily couscous in a similar one, which she made herself. They exchanged stories, and some months later Manning received an unexpected phone call. On the line was Babu, their cabdriver. His mother was in the United States and had hand-carried baskets and gifts for them from his home country. Earnest about paying homage to the hard work and skilled fingers of those whose hard work keeps the culture alive, Buxton is also passionate about providing education on the dying art. Recently, renowned weaver Louise Jefferson helped her bring the story to life for a new generation when she spoke to Buxton’s daughter’s South Carolina history class. Manning’s young daughters have come to know the art form through the weavers they have met while traveling with their mother to jewelry shows and shops which carry the line. Seldom does a month go by that the two founders do not help with fundraisers, loan out jewelry for fashion shows, or use their products to raise awareness. As Angie says, “It isn’t our story, but it is our story to tell.”

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And tell it, they do. The sweetgrass basket could have no better ambassadors than the two partners, and their generosity speaks volumes about their commitment to the cause. New designs are in the works, some incorporating gemstones, and though economic conditions have not yet allowed them to both devote themselves to the business full time, the future looks bright. Their jewelry is exquisite, and like the culture which inspired it; built to last. AM In Summerville, you can find Sweet Charleston Designs at Four Green Fields on Short Central, although their work can be found in over forty boutiques and jewelry stores. To see more of their designs or find a store near you, visit www.sweetcharlestondesigns.com AZALEAMAG.COM

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P H O T O

E S S A Y

TEXTURES of the SOUTH While the South is best known for antebellum mansions and grand oak avenues, photographer Dottie Rizzo set out to capture a different crop of imagesâ&#x20AC;&#x201C; to look past the magnolias and moss and document the humble backdrops that are at the heart and soul of Dixie's charm.

This page: The Williston Elko Blue Devils show their school pride on the town's water tower. Opposite: A vacant workhouse in Dorchester, SC.


A "No Wake" buoy sways to the rhythm of a rough day on the waters of Lake Moultrie.

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Clockwise from top left: A weathered barn rests in a field on a farm outside of Aiken,SC / An abandoned workhouse stands strong under a canopy of oaks in Dorchester, SC / A rail car loaded and ready in Summerville, SC.

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The marsh awaits another warm Lowcountry evening in Charleston, SC.

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Clockwise from top left: A filling station of the past is a scenic reminder of a simpler time / Smokestacks watch over Lake Moutltrie / Watermelons for sale on a truck bed near Bamberg, SC / This Summerville grain silo has the perfect patina.

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Modern advertisements aren't as charming as when they were hand-painted like these on the side of this general store near Denmark, SC / Shrimp boats docked at Shem Creek in Mt. Pleasant, SC.

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This bygone homestead rests in peace beneath the shade of an oak tree.

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C H A S I N G S T E E P L E S

Horseman Karl McMillan, the man behind the Charleston Cup Steeplechase is simultaneously preserving and reinventing Charleston horse racing by Will Rizzo / photos by Dottie Rizzo


The gates that lead into Belmont Park in NY were dismantled and moved from the track at Hampton Park in Charleston.

A

t the end of a winding narrow dirt road in Aiken's famed Horse District, I found Karl McMillan, the man behind the Charleston Cup Steeplechase race, sipping coffee on his porch, overlooking the pen where his newest thoroughbred (Will) was getting used to his new digs. “He's a retired race horse,” he says nodding towards the impressive animal. “I'm training him for fox hunting.” McMillan couldn't help but become a horseman. Horses where woven into the fabric of his family. His grandfather was in the last mounted detachment of the U.S. Marines station in China, and by default his father was a horseman as well. "It was never really an option for me,” McMillan says, “I had a pony before I could walk and was showing horses by the time I was six.” McMillan grew up in Summerville, SC, and showed horses until he was twenty, even forgoing college for a year to ride professionally. After college an incredible opportunity fell into his saddle when the developers of the Stono Ferry community in Hollywood, SC, ask him to lay out all of the equestrian facilities that had been planned for the property.  The facilities included a boarding barn, race track, and polo field.  “We put on the horse races and started a polo team as marketing vehicles for the development,” McMillan says. “I started playing polo and traveling the Southeast with the team. It was the most fun I have ever had on a horse.” McMillan was managing the barn, the polo club, and the races, but his involvement with Stono Ferry didn't stop there. While he was attending the College Of Charleston with plans of becoming a veterinarian, he got his real estate license and began selling residential properties.  "I was a college kid and after I saw that check, I didn't want to go to vet school anymore,” McMillan laughs. In 1989, Hurricane Hugo blew the developer of Stono Ferry into

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bankruptcy. McMillan was hired by the bank to continue working on the community. A few years later, along with two partners, he bought Stono Ferry from the bank and completed the development. Horse racing is nothing new to the Lowcountry. In fact, The South Carolina Jockey Club was formed in Charleston in 1768 and is the oldest jockey club in the United States.The last races in Charleston were run on the Washington Course at Hampton Park in front of The Citadel. Actually, the gates that lead into Belmont Park in New York were dismantled and moved from the track at Hampton Park in Charleston. McMillan rechartered the South Carolina Jockey Club, which had been disbanded in the early 1900s, with hopes that the facilities at Stono Ferry would reignite the social season (race week and the debutante balls) that had always been run by the jockey club. In the late ‘90s the homeowners association took over control of Stono Ferry when the last of the lots were sold. And with that, the polo team, as well as the horse races came to an end. BACK IN THE SADDLE McMillan stands with one of his horses / A scene from the Washington Course at Hampton Park

After an eight year hiatus, Stono Ferry asked McMillan to reestablish the Charleston Cup. The South Carolina Jockey Club, for which McMillan still holds the charter, promotes the races and uses the two events (Charleston Trials and Charleston Cup) as a conduit for charitable contributions, like the non-profit Charleston-based organization Darkness to Light. “It's our hope to bring the Jockey Club full circle,” McMillan says. “To promote the races but also have a philanthropic designation to it, as the club had early on.” This November will be the twentieth running of the Cup. McMillan is working tirelessly to preserve the storied history of Charleston horse racing while ensuring that the people of the Lowcountry instill their fervor for chasing steeples for generations to come. AM


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Always in motion, Summerville's own superstar AJ GREEN knows that giving back is as important as receiving

by Susan

Frampton

photos by Dottie

Rizzo

On-field photos provided by ESPN


A

t 6’4”, Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver AJ Green was probably the biggest kid at camp this summer—and the happiest. It’s the kind of event he never had the opportunity to experience growing up, and as he led the inaugural AJ Green Skills Camp on Summerville Memorial Stadium’s John McKissick Field this past June, he finally got the chance to combine two of the things he loves to do most: play football and give back to the community. The participants were star struck to have an NFL player running drills with them on the field and Green was glad to be home.

ON FAMILIAR GREEN AJ Green returns to McKissick Field to offer advice to up-and-coming high school talent

While arguably one of the best receivers in the NFL, you’re not going to hear about it from Green. In fact, his self-description in the New York Times as “just a country boy from South Carolina,” seems accurate. Though most feel that he’s the greatest Summerville export since sweet tea, Green doesn’t fit the profile of an NFL superstar. Most described as hard working and humble, there are no antics or temper tantrums for Dora

All of the hard work paid off for the former Summerville Green Wave player whose jersey is the only one to be retired in Coach John McKissick’s long and storied career. He did not come to the game until he was in the eighth grade, and credits a stint on the juggling team for the hand-eye coordination that later took him on to the University of Georgia where he was named SEC Player of the Week the fourth game of his freshman year

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and Woodrow Green’s son; it simply isn’t in his DNA. Both parents instilled a strong work ethic in Green, and taught him early on to work hard for what he wanted. Despite his success, the 25-year-old athlete is adamant that he’s, “not going to be one of those guys,” and he considers accolades and comparisons to players like Jerry Rice and Randy Moss, “an honor, but definitely weird.”


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"I didn’t have this growing up, so it’s always a privilege to come out here and help kids who are not fortunate." and broke all the UGA freshman records with 56 catches and 963 yards. So it was no surprise when Green was chosen fourth in the NFL’s 2011 overall draft by Cincinnati. Though the team has enjoyed two playoff berths in his two seasons on board, he knows that each game brings new challenges. “Everything is fast-paced here; you have to learn on the run,” he says. And running is what Green knows best. He does it wide open, with a 40-yard dash time of 4.5 seconds and a total of 100 receptions, 1500 yards and 10 touchdowns in his first twenty games—an NFL record. His stats for year two show that the first was not a fluke, with 97 receptions, 1350 yards and 11 touchdowns. Although Green’s career boasts a hefty salary and huge celebrity, he

hasn’t forgotten the community where he grew up or the memory of being a kid that never got the opportunity to go to camp. He’s determined that others have the chance he didn’t. “I love giving back. No matter what, I didn’t have this growing up, so it’s always a privilege to come out here and help kids who are not fortunate,” he says. Surprisingly, it’s not all football for Green. Before taking off for training camp, he announced his engagement to R&B singer, Miranda Brooke. The two have been dating for several years, and Brooke is often seen in the stands alongside Green’s parents. In his typical style, the quiet man predicted that his future wife would one day be more famous than he. If his past is any indication, we doubt he’ll mind. AM

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STORIES COMPILED FROM FOLKLORE


AND ADAPTED BY KATIE DEPOPPE


Are you familiar with that old saying that truth is sometimes stranger than fiction? Every fall, we are excited to offer a few stories that we’ve dug out of the proverbial trunk. It’s our hope that it’s the first time you’ve heard some of these. If you’re one of the folks around who is old enough to remember when Summerville wasn’t quite so bustling and was a little sleepier, you may not find these tales quite as surprising—we may be recounting some old favorites. Regardless, we look forward to telling these stories of local lore. Please take it as nothing more. These things really didn’t happen…

THE TALE OF CAPTAIN LE BLEU Captain Le Bleu, a dentist by trade, was serving in the Confederacy during the Civil War when — in the midst of battle —James R. Thompson, a lone drummer boy no more than fourteen at the time, saved his life. Forever indebted to the boy for his heroic deed, the grateful captain told the young man that upon his death he would will his house to him.

~ The knocks on the front door came before dawn.

In 1867, the last living descendent of the honorable Captain Le Bleu did just that. For many generations, the Thompson family owned the home, and they were always careful to pass on the story of how their family had come to acquire the property. A secret amongst only the Thompsons who lived there over the years? Some feared the Captain’s spirit never left the home he’d nearly died protecting. ~ The thunder rolled on a dark night in 1930s-era Summerville as one of the Thompson sisters brushed aside the curtains to peer through her living room window. As she stared into the blackness, a bolt of lightning streaked through the sky, momentarily filling the lawn with light. She shivered, and her vein-riddled hands shook as she grasped the thick, velvet panels and pulled them closely back together. It was only as she turned back toward her armchair that she heard the familiar noise again—coming from somewhere along the side of the house—and her eyes darted toward her sister’s.

Lying under the sitting room window was the body of a man. His only injury, a puncture wound to his abdomen.

“Do you think someone’s out there?” she asked, “That sounds nothing like an animal or a tree limb to me.” “I think we should call the Sheriff,” said her sister as she toddled down the long, pine-planked hall. “Who’d want to bother a couple of old ladies?” she called, raising her voice in hopes that if someone was outside, he’d know they had grown suspicious. “Besides it’s not wise for you to open the door.” “Well then, I’m going to check every door and window in this house and sit tight until the storm is over,” said her sister as she slowly made her way up the stairs. The white two-story had been their home for their entire lives—87 and 85 years, respectively. One of the oldest houses in Dorchester County—built in 1810—on one of the oldest roads off the original thoroughfare to Charleston, the sisters had grown accustomed to the occasional strange creak, rattle, or thunk in such a well-worn house, but tonight was different. Someone or something was trying to get in. “Everything is closed upstairs,” said the woman’s sister as she trudged one step at a time back down the wooden staircase. “We’ll lock ourselves in the little room with no windows until morning.”

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“Miss Thompson, Mrs. Thompson,” said the Sheriff as he tipped his hat at the two tiny women standing in the doorway, “You’re not going to believe this.”

“We thought we heard something last night, but we were too scared to leave the house or try to run for the phone booth,” said the older sister, “so we locked ourselves in and hid.” The Sheriff looked down at her thin frame as she recounted their horrific night. Her bare feet shuffled back and forth, and the hem of her nightgown brushed against her toes. “Mrs. Thompson, sounds like you did the right thing. Your neighbor here says he saw two men fighting in the yard last night. Says one was the man you think was trying to get in your window, and the other, a man in a gray uniform. Strange thing is, we have no idea who either of them is, and there’s no weapon in sight. Strangest thing I ever seen.” The sisters, exhausted from no sleep and shocked by the night’s events, suddenly looked overcome with weariness. “Let’s get you ladies back inside,” said the Sheriff as he looked past the crowd of neighbors to his deputies. “Boys, get what you need and let’s get this cleaned up.” The Sheriff followed behind the sisters as they walked through the front door and down the main hall to the sitting room where they’d first heard the noises the night before. “I can’t believe it,” said the younger sister, “but I knew I heard something odd. These old houses, you know, there are lots of strange things that happen . . . Why, Sheriff, what is the matter?”

As she spoke, the officer’s eyes grew wide and the color drained from his face. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing and making his way to the mantle above the fireplace. “That’s Captain LeBleu’s sword. It’s been in our family for generations,” said the oldest sister. “Why do you ask?” The Sheriff carefully removed the sword from its place above the hearth. It was covered in blood.


THE ETERNAL GUESTS OF GADSDEN MANOR There’s no denying the Woodlands Mansion is a Summerville staple. And one with a storied past, at that. In its former capacity as the Woodlands Resort & Inn, it garnered fans from around the globe in the 18 years it was in operation as South Carolina’s only AAA Five Diamond, Relais & Châteaux . Perhaps, it is safe to assume that such a grand estate, with an even grander history, would be owned and occupied by equally splendid residents—the eccentric and moneyed who were larger than life. Perhaps, that’s how it all began. Can what seems larger than life live beyond it? Regardless of the beginnings, what many don’t know is that throughout its time as a famous inn—amidst the daily bustle and toil— the grand house created a few believers in the supernatural and brought to light several unwanted guests who, as it stands, never intend to leave.

HISTORY

Built in 1906 by Robert Parsons, a railroad mogul from Pennsylvania, the mansion now known as the Woodlands was created as a winter home on an 100-acre tract of land. Thirty-three years after its construction, the Parsons sold the property to Alain White, a botanist and international chess expert. White purchased the property in 1939 at the onset of World War II and, during wartime, grew famous for throwing lavish parties to entertain servicemen—complete with dancing, singing, and roller skating throughout the house. After White’s death, the property was bequeathed to Ruth Holmes Gadsden, a well-known socialite throughout both Summerville and Charleston, who lived in the home until her death in 1980. Oral history states she generally kept to only one room of the house, the front parlor that served as her bedroom— where she later died—although she shared the home with 122 cats and a number of exotic animals. Six years following Mrs. Gadsden’s death, the Gadsden Manor Inn opened to the public following extensive renovations by then owners Deborah and Antonio Diz. After three short years, in1989, it closed and fell from public view until Joe Whitmore bought the home in 1993 and oversaw additional renovation until its reemergence as Woodlands Resort and Inn in 1995. Before the Inn opened for guests in May 1995, then owner Joe Whitmore—who had been living in the house prior to and during the renovations—discreetly called world-renowned spiritual medium Elizabeth Baron to the property. While his exact reasons for the call are somewhat of a mystery, it’s known that after Baron’s cleansing ceremony, she stated, “I was able to get rid of all of them except the children on the stairs. There’s nothing I can do about them.”

SIGHTINGS

In the spring of 1997, Debra Smith* sat quietly behind the mahogany concierge’s desk. She could hear the large clock in the front drawing room ticking away the hours. It was 3 a.m. The night auditor had come and gone, and the only other person on the sprawling property surrounding the inn was John*, the ex-marine turned security guard, who was trolling the grounds. John often spoke of strange happenings during his rounds, but no one else ever witnessed what he described. “He said he saw things a lot,” says Debra. Eventually, other believers came around. Servers in the formal dining room reportedly saw a man, dressed in nineteenth century attire, seated in the corner of the dining room. In both occurrences, as soon as the wait staffer took his eyes off the man, he disappeared. Once, standing at her desk, Debra recalls that something caught John’s eye, and he looked quickly around the corner before telling her there was

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the spirit of a man pacing along the wall of the alcove that led to her office. “I never saw anything,” she says. “I knew it was something only he was seeing. My grandmother told me once that you have to believe in ghosts to see them.” It was only a matter of time before Debra became a convert as well. On that night in 1997, as she sat alone at the concierge’s desk, the phone rang. Room 208. As she picked up the receiver, Debra quickly checked her records to confirm what she already knew—room 208 was empty. There was silence on the other end of the receiver. Debra chalked it up as a fluke and went about her work. Then the phone rang again. And again. Each time, just silence. That was the night she too realized there was something else among them. Several months prior to the call, a young couple on their honeymoon occupied the room. Because it was one of the smallest lodging spaces and always seemed colder and darker compared to other rooms, it was widely known among Woodlands staff that it was the last room to be booked. One of the managers often remarked that every time she went into the room, it appeared as if someone had been breathing on the windowpanes. On the night the honeymooning couple stayed, they heard a knock on their door in the middle of the night. A man, dressed as a butler, stood before them holding a silver tea set. He did not speak; he merely smiled, gave a polite nod, and placed the tray on a table just inside the door. The next morning, when the couple thanked the concierge for the service but inquired as to the strange timing, the employees were stunned. No one had any idea what the couple was talking about. It was only after the valets, who generally delivered room service, saw the tea set that the story began to unfold—the silver service, believed to have belonged to one of the previous owners and left behind on the property, had been hidden in the basement closet for ages. In December 1999, the Inn played host to a number of holiday parties. On one particularly cold evening, only a few short days before Christmas, guests filled the open spaces of the house— including the Winter Garden, the drawing room, and the front parlor—for a large corporate gathering. Men in tuxedoes and women in sparkling gowns mingled through the house, talking and laughing. Just as a cluster of coworkers settled at a nearby window, the boldest sighting occurred. As the group talked, they looked up to see a man staring through the window. His face, long and creased and gray, immediately startled them. He looked like nothing they’d ever seen. And just as quickly as he had appeared in the window, he was gone before their eyes.

THROUGH THE YEARS

“Every place you went into at the Woodlands, you felt like someone was there with you,” recounts a former valet. “Even at the pool in the middle of the night—you can’t mistake the crunch of the gravel, even when there’s no one there to see.” Many former employees, guests, and friends of the Woodlands have stories of the strange and unexplained to share. Most are not sightings but, rather, feelings of being watched or incidents that they feel have a perfectly unreasonable explanation. Perhaps, spirits really do haunt the old Gadsden Manor. Or perhaps, the lavish eccentricities and skullduggery of the past caught up with the old Summerville legend—like wrinkles in time. Regardless of whatever unexplained phenomenon or thing of the spiritual realm dwells within the old Manor, it’s probably safe to say they’re not checking out anytime soon. *names have been changed


LOCAL S OCIA LS , CA US E S & COMMUNITY STAY CONNECTED

SUMMERVILLE FARMER'S MARKET Shop for fresh local produce, meats, seafood, baked goods, and more, every Saturday morning. 8a.m.-1p.m. through November 23rd.

GET A FREE WEEK WITH ANY TANNING PACKAGE

1585 CENTRAL AVE. SUMMERVILLE 843.873.1003 (NEXT TO PUBLIX) 92

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The market is located in the First Citizens Bank parking lot adjacent to Summerville Town Hall at 200 S. Main Street. Free parking is available in the Town Hall parking garage.

GET A HEAD START ON YOUR SUMMER TAN


LOCAL SOCIALS, CAUSES & COMMUNITY S TAY CONNE CTE D

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LOCAL S OCIA LS , CA US E S & COMMUNITY STAY CONNECTED

THIRD THURSDAY IN HISTORIC DOWNTOWN SUMMERVILLE Every month on the Third Thursday of the month, the historic downtown Summerville district throws itself a party. Come join in on the fun! Every Third Thursday in 2013 5p.m. to 8p.m.

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Southern Sides / by Jana Riley

Portrait of a New Mother

Between sleepless nights and endless diaper changes, there's joy in the unexpected. I collapse into the driver’s seat of my car, exhausted after a half-hour department store shopping trip. Fifteen minutes ago, I spent what felt like an eternity searching for my debit card, convinced I misplaced it after paying for a few items at the checkout. I finally found it tucked neatly in my wallet--exactly where it was supposed to be. Ten minutes ago, I was kneeling on the floor of a fitting room, my bag dumped unceremoniously, as I frantically sifted through the contents looking for my car keys, which I knew I’d dropped

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somewhere in the store. Five minutes ago, car keys finally in hand, I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror and realized my mascara was smeared across one eye and part of my cheek, making me look like I had a black eye. Who knows how long I walked around like that. Now, I sit in the driver’s seat of my car, mustering up the energy to start the engine and head home. I know what waits there; a pile of dirty dishes, floors that should have been vacuumed yesterday,


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Patchwork of the South Cont.

discarded burp cloths, and shirts with stains on them. But I’m excited, because there are also two things I can’t wait to get home to: my six-week-old daughter, Forest, and sweatpants. I am the portrait of a new mother. It is a familiar story: the one of the harried new mother--unkempt, stressed, and overwhelmed, and I fit the bill perfectly. In a past life, I saw this woman as a tragedy--so caught up in having to care for a crying, screaming little person that apparently, taking care of herself was not even on the radar. I mean, I pitied this woman. Now, I am this woman. And I’m totally OK with that. Who needs to spend time trying to look beautiful when you’ve got the very definition of beauty right in your arms?

They told me that I would be tired and exhausted and perhaps even cranky. What they didn’t tell me was that I would gain a new understanding of joy– of pure, unadulterated happiness.

When I was pregnant, I gathered as much information as I could to prepare myself for the impending arrival of my daughter. I wanted to know what to expect, what having a newborn would be like, and when I would be able to sleep again. I read books, blogs, and articles, asked people I knew, and listened to the advice of strangers. Now that my daughter is finally here, I have realized something about the advice doled out to new parents: people are quick to tell you what you’ll miss when you have a newborn. What they don’t tell you is what you’ll gain. They told me that I would not see a full night’s rest for months, maybe even years. What they didn’t tell me was that even when I have the opportunity to sleep, at three in the morning after I’ve fed, changed, and burped her for the second or third time that night, I may not actually want to sleep. Instead, I may find myself staring at my new child, unable to close my eyes as I take in the beauty of the person my husband and I created together.

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They told me to say goodbye to alone time with my husband. What they did not tell me was that I would fall deeper in love with the man I married every time I see him holding our daughter; every time I see her gaze deeply into his eyes; every time his touch comforts her cries; every time the three of us are together. They told me that I would be tired and exhausted and perhaps even cranky. What they didn’t tell me was that I would gain a new understanding of joy--of pure, unadulterated happiness. They didn’t tell me that I would find my smile in her eyes, as I watch her learn and grow and experience this world. They didn’t tell me that I would smile brighter and laugh longer and more truly than I ever have before. They told me that I’d be exhausted, but they didn’t tell me that it would be the happiest, most head-overheels in love exhaustion that I’ve ever experienced. They didn’t tell me that.

They told me that once I had a newborn, I would never be the same again. They said I’d lose the woman I once was and become someone entirely new. In this warning, they were right. When my daughter was born, so was I--I was born again into the fold of motherhood. I was born a new woman, a mother, a person truly devoted to another human being. And every day, my daughter and I grow together. As she learns about her world and herself, I learn about her and how to be a better mother. More than anything, I want to be the best woman I can be for my little girl. Becoming a mother is not a restful experience. That much is true. The road is paved with spit up and dirty diapers, with long days and sometimes longer nights, with piles of laundry and not enough time for everything--but the journey--the journey is one that can lead you to the very best version of yourself, if you'll allow it. AM


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styled by

margie sutton

Azalea Magazine Fall 2013  

A celebration of the character, beauty and pace of the SC Lowcountry, AZALEA magazine is the authority on the Lowcountry’s distinctive style...

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