Sasee Magazine - November 2020

November 2020

"Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our Thanksgiving."

- W.T. Purkiser -

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November 2020 “Pie & Parades” Contents Volume 19, Issue 11

About the Cover Artist: Suzanne Beland is an artist living in the city of TroisRivieres, Canada. She was always passionate about drawing from a very young age. Her keen interest in art led her to train in graphic design. She practiced this profession for over 12 years and then moved on to animation and colorization of 2D cartoons for television.

She has always worked in fields that call on her creativity and for several years she has made a living from her profession as a painter.

As a self-taught artist, Suzanne stands out with her invented characters full of humor tinged with her colors and her unique vintage style. She oscillates between her beautiful, romantic young ladies and the funny characters of her series “Happy.” Her primary intention is to create a feeling of lightness and happiness through her artworks.

To see more about her works, visit www.suzannebeland.com or www.facebook.com/suzannebelandartiste 4 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

8

Veronica Smyth: Some See a Weed, Some See a Wish

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

10

Thank You, 911! by Erika Hoffman

14

Colton Vermillion: A Helping Hand

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

19

Flo Miller Phillips: A Momma to Many!

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

22 30 32 34

Small Business Saturday Gift Guide

36

Tia Bergeron: A Confident Combat Veteran

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

38 40

Blooming Roses by Rose Ann Sinay

42

Tom Herron: Everything Old is New Again

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

Holiday Pageantry by Diane DeVaughn Stokes November Calendar of Events Razzle Dazzle and Hope by Terri Elders

What’s Cooking by Ellen Fannon

Holiday Art Market November 13 - 15 11am - 6pm Paintings, pottery, jewelry, art glass, home decor, Christmas ornaments and more.

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from the Editor

Publisher Delores Blount Sales & Marketing Director Susan Bryant Editor Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

As I sit here at my new desk to write my first Sasee “Letter from the Editor,” I can’t help but feel an overwhelming rush of gratification. I am incredibly thankful for the opportunity to work with and learn from my enthusiastic and dedicated team. I am looking forward to building new, inspiring relationships with the many wonderful writers we publish. I know I have big shoes to fill as I shift into Leslie’s role as editor, but I intend to continue the amazing and heart-felt work she has built here. As I transition into my career as a young adult, I constantly feel the utmost appreciation for where I came from and all I have experienced leading me to this moment.

I grew up a beach gal in Pawleys Island, SC. I graduated from Waccamaw High School and attended college at Clemson University, where I received my Business degree. I have a deep love and appreciation for creativity, music, and the arts as a whole. I was completely astonished by the fact that one of my first essays to edit was ironically a story about a baton twirler in a parade, “Razzle Dazzle and Hope,” written by Terri Elders, which is available for you to read later in this issue.

I twirled my first baton at the age of six and joined the competition team here for the “Carolina Dynamics.” I won the titles of Miss Majorette of South Carolina and Miss Majorette of the South East in many divisions throughout the years and went on to place top 10 in Miss Majorette of America. During my time at Clemson, I was blessed to experience numerous once-in-a-lifetime adventures with my “Tiger Twirlers.” We were fortunate enough to travel all over the country with the football team and perform on the field with the “Band that Shakes the Southland,” including our victory at the National Championship.

I am especially grateful for my family and friends who have always been my biggest supporters and to be back in the beautiful Grand Strand. I am genuinely so thankful and thrilled to begin this journey with all of you.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Cheers,

Account Executives Stacy Danosky Erica Schneider Gay Stackhouse Art Director Patrick Sullivan Contributing Photographer Chasing the Light Photography Web Developer Scott Konradt Accounting Gail Knowles Executive Publishers Jim Creel Bill Hennecy Suzette Rogers PO Box 1389, Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 fax 843-626-6452 • phone 843-626-8911 www.sasee.com • info@sasee.com Sasee is published monthly and distributed free along the Grand Strand. Letters to the editor are welcome, but could be edited for length. Submissions of articles and art are welcome. Visit our website for details on submission.

Sasee is a Strand Media Group, Inc. publication.

Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved. Reproduction of any material, in part or in whole, prepared by Strand Media Group, Inc. and appearing within this publication is strictly prohibited. Title “Sasee” is registered with the U.S. Patent & Trademark Office.

6 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

Veronica Smyth:

Some See a Weed, Some See a Wish

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

Tell me a little bit about yourself and your background.

I consider myself to be a patriot, I love our country. I also consider myself to be a professional student. I have a passion for learning. I’m a humanitarian at heart and after high school, I got my associates degree in human services. Shortly after completing my first degree, I worked for a while in the insurance world. I soon realized that, professionally, I had hit a dead end and would need a higher degree to advance my career. I went back to school and got my bachelor’s degree in communications. Years later, after I had left the insurance world, gotten married and did life for a bit, I decided to go back to school to study nutrition, which is where I learned about Fair Trade. I have always loved learning and discovering more about myself and the world.

What brought you to the Grand Strand area?

I was born and raised in Connecticut but for the past decade, I have lived in multiple states on the east coast. My father lives here in Myrtle Beach and my husband’s family lives in northern Alabama and Virginia. We wanted to move to be closer to family. Initially, I was only coming to Myrtle Beach to see my dad and to sell at the flea market. As fate would have it, here I am starting my journey with Forever Revolutionary and my first brick and mortar store at the beach, despite the pandemic.

How did you come up with the idea for your Forever Revolutionary Boutique?

The idea really stemmed from my passion for people and love for our country. Whenever I’m out shopping, I look to see where the products are made and I get discouraged when I see China, Taiwan or other countries that are known for sweat labor. I want to see “Made in the USA” so I really want to work on changing that.

It’s not even like I have a huge passion for fashion or products. I’ve been dreaming about finding “my groove” in the world and ways that I can give back. Forever Revolutionary is the way that I can achieve that. I can support the country I love, the community I live in and give back at the same time. Plus the added bonus of getting to shop all of the time now!

I try to offer made in the USA products as much as possible, but they’re not always easy to find. When I do offer products made outside of the USA, I make sure that they are sourced through and certified Fair Trade. Fair Trade is kind of like a global nonprofit. They ensure that industries are adhering to fair labor practices, paying fair wages, not using child labor and that they are giving back to the community. It’s hard for the USA to compete in the market when it’s saturated with products that are derived from sweat shops. Buying and selling Fair Trade helps keep the market competitive so the USA can compete. I’m hoping the folks here are just as enthusiastic about American Made and Fair Trade products as I am and that I’m able to spread the word on important issues like this through my work here.

I also feel it’s important to give back and that’s why I currently donate 3% of my profits to The Polaris Project to help fight human trafficking and to the National Alliance on Mental Illness.

During the process of making Forever Revolutionary a reality, who or what are you most thankful for?

I’m thankful to God. It’s my faith that has guided me through this process and brought all of this to life. It’s my faith that fuels my love of people, country and the environment. My husband has also been a great support and full of encouragement.

He’s a retired Navy Seabee, and has helped out a lot with the unique, physical structure inside my shop.

Do you have a favorite Thanksgiving memory or tradition?

I think one of the most exciting Thanksgiving moments for me was when I finally reached a place in my life where I was capable of being the one to host Thanksgiving dinner. It’s nice to have your own home and be in the position to take the weight off of family members who have done it for so many years - it’s a lot of work. My aunts always hosted Thanksgiving and it took a lot out of them, I was finally able to be the one to do all of the cooking, cleaning, and decorating. It was nice to return the favor of extending my home to them and they loved being able to relax and enjoy the time with family.

8 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

Shop Small Shop Local • Shop Fair We try to offer customers American made products as much as possible.

When we can’t, we make sure our products are certified fair trade.

3% of all our profits are donated to the Polaris Project to help fight human trafficking and the National Alliance on Mental Illness.

Be your own kind of beautiful 3901 Dick Pond Rd. • Myrtle Beach SC 29588 www.foreverrevolutionary.com

Thank You, 911!

by Erika Hoffman

“This is the other half of dumb and dumber calling!” I announced after my husband answered his cell phone. “You got a minute?”

“I’m in the middle of dictating…” he sighed sounding vexed.

“But, you are finished seeing patients?”

“Yes.” “Well, I just thought I should tell you that if I get shot by police, it’s not my fault.”

“What?”

“It’s like this: I have been in the house all day with the men working on the back deck and I thought since they finally left, I’d take the dogs for a walk, but since it’s so hilly out here, I thought I’d drive them down to the fitness center where the land is flat and walk there.”

I heard him sigh deeply.

“And so I grabbed my keys to the car, well actually the fob, and the ones to the house and the leashes. I carried the dogs and threw them in the back seat and then threw my cell in the front passenger side. Suddenly, I heard this beeping sound and I saw a red-light flashing, so I looked down at my phone in the passenger side, and it said 911.”

“You dialed 911?”

“NO! I didn’t dial anything. Anyway, I pressed the red phone icon to cancel, but the dispatcher called me back immediately. I answered all her questions regarding my name, address, and why 911 was dialed. She kept insisting I’d dialed 911, and I kept insisting I had not. And I asked her if there is some way that a phone can dial the police without your doing it, and she just said that a policeman would be by. I told her I was planning on going to the fitness center and she said that maybe he’ll just call. So, I called you. What do you think?”

“Something in your bag of a pocketbook hit the phone and somehow alerted the police.”

“Are you on the phone?” the policewoman asked. There I stood in my pandemic fashion: ragged looking jogging pants with the hems out, a stained T-shirt from a few summers ago, and old sneakers in a garish color my husband bought for me for Christmas because they were reduced, probably due to the god awful hue. (If it weren’t for this pandemic, I’d have never worn them as I wouldn’t want to be seen out in them.)

She asked me if I was the one who called 911. I went through my saga as to how I didn’t dial anyone, and I know a few years ago when I was dialing 919 for the area code, I paused and sure enough they sent the police out despite my telling them I wasn’t phoning for help. She listened to my tale where I swore, I had not phoned the police, not even by accident.

She said that there is a SOS feature on the iPhone located on the side and you can activate it by pressing that button, but it’s not easy to do. It must be held down.

I told her I didn’t hold the side buttons down and I have no idea how this happened, unless when I was holding the dachshunds, I accidentally pressed it down or their bodies pressed it down. I said I was very sorry she came out, but there was no emergency.

She smiled, turned around in my driveway, and went on her way.

I loaded the dachshunds in the car and drove to the fitness center to walk them as I had originally planned forty minutes earlier.

Now what did I learn from this misadventure? If you are like me and technologically challenged, learn about this SOS button on your cell phone so you don’t accidentally press it and set off alarms bothering the police with your non-urgent stupidity.

Yet, there is a silver lining to this snafu–it’ll give the police officers something to chuckle over in between doing their difficult and dangerous jobs.

“I told you. I didn’t take a purse. I threw the cell on the seat.”

“I think they’ll send a policeman.”

“Dang. Bye!” I took the dachshunds out of the back seat and put their leashes on and walked them to the end of the driveway, and then I took my phone out and texted a friend who is savvier about cells than I. I wanted to see if she knew how this happened.

Sure enough, a police car turned into my driveway.

10 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

Erika Hoffman pens personal essays. Many she has compiled into anthologies which are sold on Amazon. Google her name, and they’ll come up!

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Colton Vermillion: A Helping Hand

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson What is your role at PruittHealth?

I am the Community Relations Representative for the hospice division in Florence, South Carolina. My job is to develop, establish, and maintain business partnerships with referral sources. I am also very active in community engagement events with a desire to enhance humanitarian efforts for our local communities.

Tell me a little bit about your background and where you are from.

I grew up in a small, rural town called Rosedale, Indiana, where the farmland never ends. As a child, I was very active in sports and always embodied a passion for the healthcare industry. I started my healthcare career path as a certified nursing assistant during my senior year of high school.

Beyond that, I graduated from Indiana State University with a Bachelor of Science. I then completed 2 semesters of my doctoral degree in physical therapy school before switching gears and pursuing my master’s in business administration, which will be finished early 2021. I moved to South Carolina 3 months ago to begin my career with PruittHealth. Since I was young, I wanted to relocate to the south because you just cannot beat southern hospitality and the mild winters.

How did you get interested in this career path?

Hospice work requires special individuals to work in this type of environment. I chose to pursue hospice after experiencing first-hand, with my grandparents, just how big the difference in end-of-life care is with the support of hospice. There is no comparison. The type of compassion, empathy, and support is second to none when provided by a hospice staff as we have here at PruittHealth. I wanted to be involved in the lasting impact hospice has on the patients and families before, during, and after a patient has passed away.

Does PruittHealth do anything special for Thanksgiving?

I cannot speak on behalf of the other segments; however, our Hospice division makes sure to leave a lasting impact during Thanksgiving. During the holidays, we believe it is important for our patients and their families to spend quality time together. To help ease the stress and burden of extravagant cooking, we help by providing meals to our patients and their families. Our patients at our other facilities are provided special holiday meals as well.

What are you most thankful for this Thanksgiving?

I am thankful for my family and friends home in Indiana as well as the new family and friends made here in South Carolina. The PruittHealth staff has welcomed me with open arms and made me feel right at home as part of their family. I am also grateful for continued good health because I have witnessed first-hand the devastating impacts of this pandemic. It is a blessing to have the opportunity to do the work I do while having the endless support from an organization that encompasses the same passion I have for loving, giving, and caring. I constantly feel blessed and I am always thankful.

14 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

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Flo Miller Phillips: A Momma to Many!

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

“It’s a miracle to have a baby, but it’s a double miracle for someone to have a baby and give it to someone else in need. I have a high appreciation for the mothers who are strong enough to do this, when they think it’s in their best interest to give their child to a better home.” -Flo Flo was raised in Pamplico, SC, on a beautiful piece of property her grandparents owned, where her grandfather was a farmer and a doctor. It wasn’t until she was a freshman in high school that she made her way to the beach life. Her father relocated their family to Litchfield for his Real Estate job. Despite Flo’s threats to jump off a bridge because she did not want to leave the farm, she surprised herself by falling in love with this new home of hers. She made lots of friends and became a cheerleader at Georgetown High School. Afterwards, she attended Brenau University, but ultimately, transferred and graduated from the University of South Carolina. She continued her education by receiving her masters from Coastal Carolina University and began teaching, as she adored children and treated them all as her own.

At the young age of twenty-two, Flo married her first husband and attempted to have children straightaway. Flo explained to me that she always wanted a big family. She said, “when you were young, you had doll babies, and then when you grow up and get married, you have real babies.

I always thought everyone had babies, no question about it.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite that simple for Flo to make this dream of hers a reality as easily, or as quickly, as she’d hoped. Once she realized her body was not equipped

to produce all the babies of the world, she began seeing several different doctors and specialists. We have to keep in mind that this was a different time, therefore In Vitro Fertilization was not available to the public yet. If it had been, Flo’s story may have been a different one to tell, but this did allow her the opportunity to go through the miraculous process of adoption.

Adoption was much less common then, but Flo was determined this was her life path. She first went to the Children’s Bureau to be deemed qualified to adopt a child. Although Flo thought she had the perfect home, the woman interviewing her claimed she did not because in order to adopt, Flo would have to give up working, as the woman sat there, pregnant and working. After five years of trying, Flo felt like everyone around her was having babies.

Her sister had a baby and one of her best friends ended up with triplets. I know what you’re thinking, but no, she did not give one of her babies to Flo. This heightened Flo’s focus even more and she decided to meet with a close attorney friend for help.

A year later, when Flo was teaching at Waccamaw Elementary, she was called to the principal’s office. She, of course, thought she was in some kind of trouble, but once she made her way there, she realized it was actually her husband Sasee.com :: November 2020 :: 19

and equally wanted a brother as much as Flo wanted a son.

Flo’s helpful attorney friend assured her he would not let her feel this heart break again. One night while the family was on vacation, the phone rang in the middle of the night.

Flo answered and to her astonishment, it was her attorney calling to inform her that she was getting a baby boy, who she named William Rivers.

on the phone who was trying to relay an important message.

He told her something good happened and she said, “did you sell a house?” (He worked as a contractor.) He told her no and that it was something even better and she replied, “well, did you sell two houses?” He chuckled, “No, we have a baby girl!” Flo went screaming out of the school, left her students, and zoomed home to tell her mother the wonderful news. She called the attorney immediately and he declared that she could have her baby in three days and Flo exclaimed, “No, I absolutely cannot wait, I’ve waited long enough.” Flo brought her baby girl home the very next day in the most darling outfit she had been waiting so long to dress her baby in. At the age of twenty-nine, Flo finally had a baby girl of her own, little miss Elizabeth Kari. Flo described her home as looking like a funeral event due to the insane amount of cars that showed up to congratulate the family and to welcome the baby that everyone knew had been such a long waiting process for the family.

Flo was determined to have a brother for Kari, so she began trying to adopt again. She heard about a very young mother that was going to give her baby up and Flo and her husband began to support this girl because Flo, obviously, thought this was going to be her baby. Sadly for Flo, the mother decided to keep her baby and apparently she had pulled this scam before. This exact scenario happened once more leaving both Flo and Kari completely devastated. Kari was four at the time 20 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

Flo told me a few stories about her early days with the children. The first was about Kari and how everyone used to ask Flo, “Where did Kari get that blonde hair?” Well, Flo got tired of that question pretty quickly and decided to dye her hair blonde to match so that no one would question her again. The next was a story about Rivers when she first brought him home. She was a tad doubtful at first and questioned herself, “Will I love Rivers as much as I love Kari? I don’t know if I could ever love anything as much as Kari.” One night, Rivers was really hot in the bed and had a high fever and as she rushed him to the hospital, she kept weeping and praying, “Oh, Dear Lord, I swear I love him just as much as Kari!” Although Rivers was the one with the virus, Flo needed her own nurse because she was so scared to lose him. This story gives Flo a good giggle now though.

Growing up and still to this day, Flo’s children get to celebrate two birthdays every year, their traditional birthday and their

she also became a Certified Parent Care Facilitator. This role meant that she helped with the relationships between parents and their children as well as helped the grieving parents who were having to go to court and possibly going to lose their children. Flo has also operated manner camps in the area for years.

Flo is extra thankful this Thanksgiving for her now husband of 9 years, Phil, because he is so helpful with her children and grandchildren as well as his own daughter, two sons, and several grandchildren. She knows they won’t be able to travel forever, but is looking forward to hopping around the state to see all of their family for as long as they can.

Flo clarified, “I’ve always worked with kids and I’ve always loved kids, it’s all I ever wanted to do.” Flo has unconditionally taken care of everyone else’s babies, and now she has several of her own. Not only is she a mama to all of her students, children, and grandchildren, but she is also a mama to her five dogs, a kitten, and many quail and chickens. I am excited to visit Flo at her lovely home again soon to watch her new baby chicks hatch. “gotcha day.” The kids knew from the very beginning about their adoption, in fact, Flo made up her own stories because there weren’t really books that explained these situations at the time. The story that they knew about acquiring Rivers went a little something like this: “Kari was playing in the backyard one day and heard a noise coming from a nearby weeping willow tree. She discovered a basket with a handsome baby boy. She excitedly ran home with it and he lived with us forever.” Ever since, Flo has made sure that she has a weeping willow tree in her yard. Flo always illustrated to the kids that they did not come from her tummy, but from her heart. Flo’s children grew up easily knowing just how loved they really were. They made good grades in school and are very spiritual beings. Kari resides in Greenville, with her husband, and recently birthed their first baby girl.

Rivers lives in Columbia with his wife and two children and refers to himself as very lucky to have the upbringing he had, all thanks to Flo.

Flo left me with a quote of the most frequent questions she gets asked by others, “Is he yours or did you adopt him?” and she would answer very clearly, “He IS mine, and I DID adopt him!” Flo also wanted me to pass along some advice to all the people interested in adoption: “Don’t give up! Get the word out and seek help from everyone you know. Even through the hardships, it’s a wonderful experience and is SO worth it. I love to talk about it because it reminds me of how truly blessed I am.”

Flo taught school for forty years and spent her last fourteen years as a master teacher at Lowcountry Preparatory School where Sasee.com :: November 2020 :: 21

Shop Local • Spend Local Support Local Small Business Saturday November 28th

♥Shop Small

Show Your Love

We’re an eclectic gallery featuring art of the Carolinas and creative home decor items. Unique gift ideas include Nan Bedick’s artsy enameled pendant and art glass

by Scott Summerfield.

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Sasee.com :: November 2020 :: 27

Presents An Old Fashioned Christmas

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28 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

What

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Lynda Thomas - Independent Insurance Agent 843-457-1180 • affordablecareactsc@gmail.com Sasee.com :: November 2020 :: 29

Holiday Pageantry

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

“

It is the size of a brick and just as solid, weighing three pounds, filled with nuts and candied fruit galore including pineapple, cherries, walnuts, almonds, lemon and orange peel.

Certainly this Thanksgiving will be unlike anything that any of us have ever experienced. Family will not be able to gather like other years. We may be eating alone or with neighbors.

But guess what? We should be used to it by now since we have been dealing with some mighty weird Covid-19 stuff since March.

Some family members who go to work daily won’t want to take a chance of infecting those who are older and more at risk so they will stay home this year instead of gathering.

That category of risky and older includes me! I guess we won’t need two turkeys this year.

And I wonder how many folks will risk shopping on Black Friday? That’s a day I would never go shopping even in normal circumstances. It’s way too chaotic and congested for me. There’s never been anything I ever wanted bad enough to fight those crowds, but I do want to tell you about the craziest Black Friday I have ever had.

It was 1968 and I was President of the first Junior Civinette Club at my high school in Florence, SC, and I was conned by the Florence Civitan Club, the sponsoring organization, to be in their “Miss Claxton Fruitcake” Pageant. Don’t laugh. This event raised big money for the local Civitans, who also sold fruitcake on the streets of Florence all during the holiday season.

On an international level, the Civitans partnered with the Claxton Fruitcake Company in 1951 selling millions of the product to fund projects for the developmentally disabled.

How could I say no to that? When I told my parents about the Civitans request, they laughed and thought it was a joke because as you already know from my previous articles, our family has always been full of pranks. They couldn’t imagine a fruitcake pageant.

30 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

”

Let me set the stage for those of you who have never heard of, or tasted a Claxton Fruitcake. It is the size of a brick and just as solid, weighing three pounds, filled with nuts and candied fruit galore including pineapple, cherries, walnuts, almonds, lemon and orange peel.

Okay, fast forward through buying a dress, getting my hair done into one of those fancy up-dos that were popular back in the sixties, and purchasing long white gloves to add elegance. The biggest challenge was how to dye my white satiny shoes hot pink to match my long evening gown.

Bingo! Pepto-Bismol did the trick perfectly. No kidding.

This pageant ordeal was far more difficult to put together than I thought when I said, “Sure, I’ll do it!” It was my first pageant and I thought it would be fun to meet new girl friends from the other local high schools.

Well, the pageant was held the Friday night after Thanksgiving and lucky for me, there was no talent or bathing suit. It was all based on poise, and personality that the judges got to experience during the interview process early that afternoon. I have to admit I was much more at ease dressed in my comfy casual attire that day than I was later that night in high heels and an evening gown. Not my thing at all, even though over the years, many more pageants followed to accrue scholarship money.

The judges asked me if I liked to eat Claxton Fruitcake, and I had to be honest with them, “No,” I said, “I have never liked any kind of fruitcake. I’m a chocoholic! I would much rather eat a chocolate bar, but I’d be proud to represent the Civitans and their great work in the community.” I also studied up on the early days of the Claxton Fruitcake in case they asked me about it, and they did!

And in case you need any trivia at your holiday gathering,

Savino Gillio-Tos immigrated to the United States in 1902.

He moved first to New York and worked in the hotel business as a baker before landing a job in Macon, Georgia. From there he chose to settle into Claxton, Georgia, where he specialized in homemade ice cream, pastries, and fruitcakes. In 1945, he sold out to one of his favorite employees, Albert Parker, who chose to specialize in what was truly a novelty, the heavily packed, three-pound fruitcake.

Catholic Youth Organization and assuredly knew, the two would never mix!

So as you settle down for dessert this holiday season to devour your fruitcake, make sure it’s Claxton! You heard all about it from a proud former “Miss Claxton Fruitcake,” who celebrates her “GRAND” title every year with a giggle, still preferring chocolate!

I know, I know. I hear you asking, “What happened at the pageant?” Well, I did win the title of “Miss Claxton Fruitcake,” and “Miss Congeniality,” but best of all, I got to ride in the Florence Christmas parade the following Saturday on a float designed especially for the Civitans, tossing out fruitcakes to the crowd. No, they weren’t the three pound ones because a miss-toss could have killed somebody! These were the new hot off the press one pounders.

Diane DeVaughn Stokes is the co-owner of Stages Video Productions in Myrtle Beach and the Host and Producer of “Inside Out” on HTC, channel 4. She and her husband Chuck share passions for theater, travel, scuba diving and their 3 four-legged kids. Diane is the author of “Floating on Air-A Broadcasting Love Affair” about her 47 years in Radio and Television.

Months later, I guess after the word got out that I liked crazy titles, I got a call to be “Miss Falstaff Beer” at the Darlington Southern 500, but that’s where I drew the line even though it came with a $500 scholarship. I hated beer then and still do! No way! Besides, I was President of the South Carolina

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Sasee.com :: November 2020 :: 31

November 2020 3, 10, 17 Food Drive Peace/Sotheby’s International Realty Pawleys Island 10am - 2pm www.peacesir.com 3 & 27 Holiday Camp Rockin’ Jump Myrtle Beach 8am - 6pm, Ages 5 -12 www.rockinjump.com/myrtlebeach 7 Brew at the Zoo Brookgreen Gardens 5:30pm - 8:30pm Members - Adults: $40 Non members - Adults: $45 Designated Drivers - $20 www.brookgreen.org

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Razzle Dazzle and Hope

by Terri Elders

“I wouldn’t walk across the street to see a parade,” Daddy declared at breakfast the day before Thanksgiving. “I don’t hold with razzle-dazzle.”

I shot Mama a despairing glance. That very night was the Santa Claus Lane Parade!

All autumn I’d been practicing my walkovers and twirls as an acrobatic majorette in the Carpenterettes. While the others in our troupe would roll down the route on skates, the three of us in the center row not only twirled, but at breaks cavorted for the crowds like a pack of seals, outdoing one another, tossing batons as high as the telephone wires, turning a flip or walkover before catching them, landing in splits on the pavement.

Mama had spent weeks sewing sequins onto the lapels of my satin costume. We’d debut new outfits for this parade down Hollywood Boulevard, second only to the Rose Parade in local fame. These two bracketed the Southern California holidays like bookends.

“Don’t upset us, Paul.” Mama said quietly. “Terri’s leaving for school now. I don’t want her worrying all day.” She handed me a slice of raisin toast with a reassuring smile.

“All right. We leave at 5,” Daddy finally grumbled, “but I won’t drive to Hollywood ever again, Hope or no Bob Hope.”

I’d be too nervous that day to eat lunch and if we left at five, we’d have to postpone supper until we got back home. I gobbled up the toast.

Hollywood, though only nine miles from our Southwest Los Angeles home, seemed a million miles away, as far as Andromeda, a beckoning, shimmering glamour symbol.

We’d all been star struck, my classmates and even Mama.

We gossiped about how an agent discovered Lana Turner sipping a soda at the very Schwab’s Drug Store on Sunset where they were shooting the new movie, “Sunset Boulevard.” We poured over photos of stars in the Herald Express and Photoplay Magazine.

But the Santa Claus Lane Parade! Every year we tried to guess the Grand Marshall. A few years earlier Gene Autry had memorialized his experience by penning “Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer.”

Now, in 1949, it would feature Bob Hope. At Bebe Carpenter Studio we tapped and twirled to “Buttons and Bows,” an Academy Award-winning tune Hope had introduced in 1948 in The Pale Face.

34 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

That afternoon as Mama pinned my cap securely to my topknot so it wouldn’t fall off when I cartwheeled, I wondered which troupe would lead Grand Marshall Hope. I suspected the Carpenterettes would front an American Legion Post color guard or a drum and bugle corps.

Mama applied mascara to my lashes and rouged my cheeks.

She handed me her tube of Tangee Pink Queen so I could put on my own lipstick. Wearing makeup was one of the most thrilling parts of preparing for a performance.

As it neared 5pm, Mama handed me a new baton and boots, an early Christmas present. I wondered how she’d saved to buy them from her grocery allowance.

As our old Chevy headed north, I wondered if the famous Meglin Kiddies would appear. The Meglin Dance Studio had produced Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney, and Shirley Temple. Though we saw them as our arch-rivals, in truth we Carpenterettes were second cousins twice removed. We aspired, while they’d attained.

When we reached the participant drop-off point, Mama promised they’d pick me up later by Grauman’s Chinese Theater. I connected with my troop. Our director, Bebe Carpenter herself, nodded approval at our sparkling new outfits. Our sequins reflected the rays of the thousands of fairy lights decorating Santa Claus Lane.

“Good news, girls,” she said, “you’ll be escorting the Grand Marshall.” Our gleeful squeals echoed all the way to Highland.

We quickly assembled in front of the Cadillac convertible carrying Hope. He perched on the backseat, waving to the throngs lining the streets. He hadn’t noticed us yet.

This was the second year a local station televised the parade, so we knew that when we passed the camera booth with radio personality Bill Welsh, we’d turn and perform a baton salute. Welsh would announce The Carpenterettes, a matter of importance to Bebe.

Alhough November nights even in balmy LA can be chilly, the exertion of performing soon warmed me up, so along the route I welcomed the occasional pauses to swipe at my forehead. At last we neared Welsh’s booth. Welsh, excited, leapt from the booth, carrying his hand mic out to Hope.

We couldn’t overhear them, but Welsh hurried back to us.

“Hope wants to give one of you his autograph,” he said, grabbing my shoulder, as the cameramen positioned themselves. He propelled me toward the Caddy.

Hope leaned over, extending a hand with a pen at the ready.

“Good evening, dear,” he said. “Where’s your paper?”

I blinked, bewildered. Having none, I tugged off my left boot and handed it to him. He smiled, scrawling his name in letters tall enough for the camera to catch.

On Thanksgiving our Herald Express came early. I’d made the front page, grinning up at Hope signing my boot. Mama clipped out the photo and framed it.

Daddy, true to his word, never again attended another parade.

In 2007 the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, which had staged this Tinseltown treat each year, announced that the 75th in ’06 had been the last. Hearing this, I hummed a few bittersweet bars of “Buttons and Bows,” recalling that “Hopeful” holiday season when I was 12.

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Los Angeles finally revived the parade, renaming it the Hollywood Santa Parade. Though Daddy didn’t hold with razzle-dazzle, I certainly do. I’m planning to see it next year.

Terri Elders is a lifelong writer and editor, is a frequent contributor to anthologies and periodicals. At 80, she’s happy to be back again in sunny California, where she no longer has to worry about shoveling snow. She misses the snow on Christmas day, but delights in having New Year’s brunch at the beach.

Sasee.com :: November 2020 :: 35

focused. She felt fully prepared and ready to do her job as part of the Desert Storm Military Police.

It was December of 1990 and they landed in Saudi Arabia in MOPP (Mission Oriented Protective Posture) gear feeling all 100 degrees beating down on them. She explained, “As soon as I hopped off the plane, we immediately ran for cover in a ditch while carrying our ridiculously heavy bags. The Scud missiles were going off left and right and all you can think is, okay, I’m here, this is it, I might die, but I have to just embrace it.”

Tia is considered a combat veteran of Desert Storm because her platoon permanently resided in the middle of the chaos, right where the Scuds went off, and the patriot missiles took off to intersect them.

Tia Bergeron:

A Confident Combat Veteran

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

Tia grew up in a small town in New Hampshire with a single mom who worked most nights as a country singer. Tia became very independent at a young age and helped take care of her sister who is 4 years younger. She explained that her family’s struggle growing up played a role in her wanting to make a strong name for herself. She excelled in school and was named salutatorian of her graduating high school class. She had always been interested in criminal justice but knew at the time, in 1986, females were not prevalent in law enforcement or the military. Both of her grandfathers were WWII Veterans and she developed a big connection with them due to a variety of conversations they had through the years. She decided at the age of 18 to overcome the statistics and join the military.

Tia’s goal was to be in the military police. Not only did she hold herself to that standard, but she also made sure to tell her recruiter “I’m going to be an MP or I’m not in the military at all.” The first obstacle she had to face was how small she was and her height just barely qualified. Tia shook her head as she informed me what everyone would constantly ask her: “Why are you going into the army? You’re so smart… why would you want to go and do that?” and she, of course, would respond with “because I want this experience, this is what I WANT to do!”

Sure enough, Tia was able to begin her journey by taking a semester off and going straight into basic training. She attended 17 weeks in the blazing heat in Alabama. She was in the reserves and performed drills for a few years until she was called to active duty. She told me when she finally got the signal, “Red Bull,” all she could think was, “It’s go time!” She admitted that although she was scared, she was even more 36 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

When I asked Tia what it was like being one of the only women in her unit as a military police officer, she laughed and replied, “It was definitely different.” She lucked into being assigned to all of the special detail missions because there was a female needed as a witness on most of the calls. This fact allowed her to have even more interesting experiences such as being assigned to General Vuono’s personal security team, getting to drive his Humvee motorcade, and getting to enter one of the M-1 Abram tanks as well as one of the Stealth bombers. She was also blessed to have been able to make connections with the women of Saudi Arabia who would not have felt comfortable coming to the men in the military. Being a woman allowed Tia to break some of these barriers which gave her the opportunity to comfort these women when they were crying and asking, “When will the bombing stop?”

She was fortunate to have a Sergeant who was protective of her. She assured me that she did not take offense to this, as it was much better than the normal reaction from the other males she worked with that approached her in a “what are you even doing here?” kind of way. Luckily for Tia’s commitment and courageous attitude, she eventually gained the respect from her peers that she well-deserved.

She went on to tell me a story about the way she was treated by the Saudi Arabians while deployed. She informed me that they have certain police who make sure that everyone has stopped their jobs by a certain time because that’s when everyone was supposed to pause their day to pray. Well, one of these police came up to her and told her she needed to get in the front seat of the Humvee. She thought to herself I’m over here fighting for you, and you’re going to demean me? but just firmly replied with “I’m sitting here with an M16, a 45, and an M60 on top of our Humvee, no sir, I’m not moving. This is my job to be here!” They did not like her response, but can you hear that devoted attitude I was telling you about? Her sergeant caught wind of this and warned her “please do not start an international incident.” I would also like to add that Tia gathered even more army medals than her stateside 1st sergeant had earned.

Tia made cassette tapes every day she was deployed to send

back to her family in the states and her grandmother wrote her letters every single day which meant the absolute world to Tia. To receive just a little piece of home while she was there was everything because, at that point, she just assumed any day could be her last. She told me about the scariest day she was there which was the day one of the Scuds actually hit near them and her unit was called to respond to the wreckage. She looked at me with wide eyes and said, “talk about chaos, that was THE most horrific thing I’d seen.” She had to rummage through the remnants of her fellow troops while trying to collect their dog tags, which left her feeling completely heartbroken. It was even more terrifying for her to think about the fact that their roles could have easily been reversed had the Scuds landed a little closer to them instead.

She explained that coming home was extremely emotional.

She said, “to go from that climate to this, it was a whole other planet.” Her mom was waiting for her along with an extraordinary number of patrons to welcome them home. Every single veteran was granted their own personal American flag with their name attached. To this day, she still feels incredibly thankful for all the support they received from the people of this country.

Tia stayed with the military for 10 years, but once she returned home in 1993, she only had a few more years left.

During that time, she continued training and attended camps closer to home in places like Canada, where she had to have her wisdom teeth taken out in the middle of the field. She also spent some time working in the criminal investigation unit in Boston and completed her degree from the University of New Hampshire where she graduated with a history degree and a minor in psychology.

After her time in the military, she started a job with the New Hampshire Athletic Association and was the Associate

Director for 15 years. She met her husband, Chris, during this time because he was an Athletic Director at a big school. They got married in 2007 and a few years later found themselves wanting a change, plus they were tired of the snow- we all get that! They vacationed in Pawleys Island over the years to see Chris’ parents, who have lived here for 10 years. In 2012 they moved to the beach. Chris is now the Physical Education instructor at Waccamaw Middle School as well as the varsity lacrosse coach and the JV football coach. Tia works for the Coastal Montessori Charter school part-time as the business manager. A year and a half ago she earned her real estate license and says that is her next direction of life. She works for the Litchfield Company and enjoys the flexibility it gives her to be able to enjoy the area they now live in. She admires the fact that she gets to meet new people and build more relationships.

When Tia thinks back on her time in the military, she is overwhelmed with compassion, especially around Thanksgiving and the holidays. While she was deployed, holidays were not celebrated and felt just like any other day, which makes Tia appreciate these times at home even more.

She justifies that even though we have our problems and lots of unrest currently in America, it’s still not nearly as rough as what she had experienced elsewhere. She explained, “At least here, I’m able to drive, speak, have my own opinions, and not wake up to the sound of sirens every day.”

She could not be more content with the person she grew into due to the military. It gave her thick, tough skin and has made her unafraid of life’s twists and turns because she knows she’s survived worse. She doesn’t regret anything and has continued to keep her high-energy, thankful spirit. She adds, “I can watch the sunrise and the sunset every day if I want, what’s not to love and feel humbly grateful for when you live here?”

Sasee.com :: November 2020 :: 37

Blooming Roses

by Rose Ann Sinay

When I was a child, our family moved from one military base to another every year or two. On my first day at a new school, my mother would say, “Don’t worry, you’re a rose.

You’ll bloom wherever you’re planted.”

As the years passed and the time grew closer for my father to retire from the nomadic lifestyle of the Air Force, we all became excited about owning a home for the first time.

Instead of having to take whatever unit was available on the base housing list, soon, we would be looking for a permanent place to live. Each of us (kids) would have our own bedroom painted in our favorite color instead of the standard issue white or beige.

Mom made lists and cut pictures from magazines that she pasted into notebooks. I started my own wish book of a bedroom filled with pillows, bookshelves and poster-covered walls.

Mom said the kitchen was the hub of the house. Ours would be an enormous gathering room. She imagined it with an old farmhouse sink, electrified cast iron stove and red and white gingham curtains. The house, itself, would be sprawling with good bones and fertile roots that would sprout daffodils in the spring and roses in the summer. She would look for growth marks of children on closet doors, evidence a caring family had lived there. Our new house would have already earned the name “home.” It was up to us to make it ours.

A big front porch with a wooden swing attached to the ceiling joist – Mom and I both agreed about that. I pictured us sitting there every evening with a tall glass of sweet tea finished with a garden sprig of crushed mint clinging to the rim. It was sappy and idyllic, but then, who fantasizes in reality?

While we waited for that day to come, we collected items that represented each place we’d lived: a piece of pottery from California, an antique bedroom set from Texas, a handcarved cabinet from Japan, and (my contribution) a bag of rocks labeled by state. We were gathering memories to take home.

Dad finally retired after twenty-five years of service. Our last move was almost ceremonial. We wouldn’t have to pack our 38 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

belongings into boxes ever again. I could paint my bedroom walls purple, if I wanted to. I could make friends and keep them!

My father decided we would retire to Connecticut. My very southern mother directed her disappointment and energy into finding our new home. For weeks my parents looked at houses with realtors, leaving me and my siblings with relatives. Every day, they returned disillusioned. It seemed there was nothing that resembled Mom’s checklist, or aligned with their checkbook.

I sensed my mother’s resignation. Time was running short.

Our furniture would be arriving soon and three extra kids in any relative’s household was a sure way to alienate the best of families. My mother had waited twenty-five years for her dream, and I feared it was not going to materialize.

A week later, our parents cryptically announced they would not be house hunting that day; we were all going on a picnic.

After a twenty minute drive into the country, they pulled into a driveway. I eyed the house in front of us critically; there was no front porch. I was angry and stayed in the car while my brother and sister ran to the back yard to check out the pond.

The two story white Dutch colonial was fronted by a trellis covered with tiny wild roses. It was pretty, but there was no place for a swing to sit on while I read my book or spent time with company.

The summer heat finally forced me out of our station wagon.

Reluctantly, I walked under the trellis and into the house.

The walls were different–textured and sponged a unique design. To the right, framed glass doors led to a large living room with a brick fireplace. Floor to ceiling windows dressed in sheer white curtains fluttered a welcome. It was . . . nice.

I followed Mom and Dad’s voices to the kitchen, almost walking into the side of a big white refrigerator. The stove was equally old and bulky; they would need to be replaced but, the white apron of a porcelain sink shone against wood counter tops and glass cabinet doors. I wanted to hate this house, but there were sparks of possibility. I could see Mom thought so, too.

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Upstairs, there were three bedrooms – not the four that we had planned. My sister and I would have to share. Again.

Mom walked in as I checked out the solitary closet.

“What do you think?” she asked. “I know you wanted your own room, but we’ll paint it your favorite color.”

“There’s no front porch,” I said, watching her face closely.

“It’ll do for now.” She forced a smile. “Maybe we can add one later.” *** I grew to adulthood in that house. We painted it barn red and planted big, hardy roses. There was a place for all of our transplanted memories, including my bag of rocks that decorated the flower garden. The coveted front porch was never added. Instead, I happily spent my free time in the not-so-enormous kitchen, reading a book, my feet propped up on a chair, drinking iced tea from plastic cups.

I had grown to love that house that hadn’t met my first expectations. It hadn’t changed much over the years. The paint had faded and the trellis sagged under its abundant foliage. It had served us well. It had become ours while we were forging divergent roots and creating new aspirations.

The day I left, I dug up one of those rose bushes, carefully placed it in a bucket and put it in the back of my car. It was a rose – a piece of home – it would bloom wherever we were planted.

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843-293-9333 Rose Ann Sinay is a freelance writer newly relocated to Connecticut. She continues to write about moments worth remembering, graciously provided by family and friends.

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What’s Cooking

by Ellen Fannon

“Hey, what’re you making?” My older son had wandered into the kitchen as I was browning some breaded chicken for dinner.

“Chicken with bread crumbs and parmesan cheese, which I will then cover with cream of chicken soup and bake in the oven.”

He surveyed the sizzling frying pan. “It would taste better if you added some tarragon. Do you have any tarragon?”

Tarragon? What the heck is tarragon?

“Uh, no, I don’t have any tarragon.”

“Too bad. Pick some up the next time you go to the store.

How about paprika? You have any of that?”

Paprika? Wait. That sounds vaguely familiar. It’s a type of spice, right?

“Columbus, Ohio, Homemaker of the Year” in nineteensixty-something, but also ran a business, raised five perfect children, taught Sunday school, and received the Nobel Peace Prize for curing cancer. (Okay, maybe I exaggerated a little on that last point.)

But the fact is, my culinary talents are sorely lacking and it’s rather embarrassing that my son is a better cook than I am. After all, aren’t sons supposed to sing their mother’s cooking prowess when a girlfriend or young wife cooks them something completely inedible? Somehow, I can’t ever see that happening with my sons.

One would think that having a gourmet chef living in the house would score us some fantastic meals. Unfortunately, it seems my older son is always “out” when there is cooking to be done. So my poor husband and I end up coming home after work and throwing something into the microwave.

Okay, give me a break. Is that a fruit, a pepper, a spice … what?

My older son did, however, put together a tasty pork stew a few weeks before Christmas. As we sat around the dinner table enjoying the rarity of having someone else cook dinner, my husband spooned a strange looking object from his bowl, “What’s this thing?”

“Nope.”

“That’s a bay leaf,” my son replied, “don’t eat it.”

He picked up a bottle of garlic powder and liberally sprinkled it into my pan. “Well, at least the garlic will make it better.”

“Well what’s it doing in my stew if I’m not supposed to eat it?”

“Sorry, no paprika, either.”

His lips flattened. “Lemon-pepper?”

Let me explain. My son has spent the last few years as a cook in several various types of restaurants. As a result, he has become quite the “foodie.” He has developed a gourmet palate and can wax theatrically on textures, subtle blends and nuances, and other masticatory adjectives describing food. Me, I describe food in one of two ways–tastes good or doesn’t taste good.

I am a simple person who cooks simple food, and that is mostly out of necessity to keep from starving or going broke eating out. Breaded chicken baked with cream of chicken soup is about as gourmet as I get. Beanie-weenies is more my style. As for spices, I may own three. (Do salt and pepper count as spices?)

It’s sad, really, as my mother was a good cook. She just didn’t pass that gene onto me, but back then women had to know how to cook, as nuking frozen stuff in the microwave was not an option. I won’t even discuss my mother-in-law, who not only made everything from scratch and was voted 40 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

“It’s in there for flavor.”

Thank goodness my husband got the bay leaf instead of me.

I would have just eaten it, assuming it was some epicurean delicacy, which was supposed to be good for me. Don’t eat the bay leaves. Who knew?

Ellen Fannon is an award winning author, a practicing veterinarian, former missionary, and church pianist/organist. She originated and wrote the Pet Peeves column for the Northwest Florida Daily News.

She and her husband have also been foster parents to more than 40 children, and the adoptive parents of two sons. Her first novel, Other People’s Children, the humorous account of the life of a foster parent, was released November 2017 and is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and the trunk of her car. She lives in Valparaiso, Florida, with her husband, son, and assorted pets.

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Tom Herron:

Everything Old is New Again

by Sarah Elaine Hawkinson

Tell me about your life and what brought you to the Grand Strand.

I was born in Ohio but spent most of my childhood in the DC area. I worked for a trade association outside of Washington, but quickly shifted my focus to marketing and advertising. In 1979 my father and I formed our firm, Herron and Associates, and following his retirement in 1984, I expanded the company and renamed it The Marcom Group – we were really the first “hi-tech” ad agency around, utilizing computers and “floppy disks” to write and design everything. Marcom continued until 1993 when I began to experience advertising agency burn-out (which I now refer to as Mad Men Syndrome).

That same year, I partnered with legendary Gary Player to develop a new, up-scale approach to the golf travel business. I moved to the beach with my wife, Jaci, to set up shop. To this day, I still do quite a bit of advertising, marketing, and public relations work. After 40 years, I have pretty much thrown in the towel on political consulting. Instead, with my love of this country, I launched a nonprofit organization called Up with America!

How did you get involved with Covenant Towers?

In 2012 I received a phone call from Covenant Towers because they felt they needed new marketing. Once I learned of their unique property, I began telling everyone about the place. It’s the only not-for-profit, independent senior living place on the Grand Strand where everyone owns a piece of the rock. I would say if you’re 55 or older, “on a dollar for dollar basis, you can’t beat it!”

Not long after Jaci passed, I decided to move to Covenant Towers. So, at the ripe old age of 67, I abandoned yard-work for a life of leisure – and have been busier than ever! It’s tough for an old golfer like me to look out our windows and see the beautiful fairways of Pine Lakes Country Club. Since my health was strong and I didn’t need any sort of “assisted living,” I elected to become an active part of this community… offering a safe and comfortable place to enjoy my life. I was elected to serve on the Board of Directors here in the fall of 2017. I served as Vice President from 2018-2019 and am currently serving as President.

What about this work makes you feel grateful?

I genuinely enjoy the work and collaborating with the other residents here. My fellow board members all have different but exceptional backgrounds. All playing a role in deciding what’s best for our residents and this property and making huge contributions to what we do. It’s humbling to be a part of the culture change we have launched here, actively embracing the variety of backgrounds and talents from the individuals who live here.

I also want to applaud our almost 200 residents for their cooperation and understanding as we began handling the Corona Virus pandemic. We quickly, but carefully shut Covenant Towers down in mid-March. I do not doubt that it’s a combination of luck and foresight, but to date, we have had no residents test positive! Since the holidays, in general, are a big deal here and typically revolve around our delicious food, we’re hoping to be able to celebrate Thanksgiving dinner… even if it requires 2 or 3 seatings.

How do y’all develop community within Covenant Towers?

We encourage our residents to engage with each other. When you think of senior living, you think of shuffleboard, but to be honest, few ever use our existing shuffleboard because we have so many other activities to offer, both on and off-campus.

It’s true the pandemic has put the squeeze on some of our activities, but not all. We moved some of our activities outside and we have also continued to have our music and arts events. We still offer 5 or 6 church services a week – some in our glorious garden, which the residents plant and care for themselves. About 18 months ago, I started “Music Mondays” which often attracts 25-35 residents or more. Using YouTube and a blue-tooth speaker, I act as the DJ and ask the audience to shout out their favorite tunes!

From the entertaining times we have together, to the fact that we live only 5 blocks from the ocean, it’s easy for me to say that Covenant Towers truly feels like an oasis.

42 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

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Sasee.com :: November 2020 :: 43

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Sasee Challenges You to Focus on the Blessings in Your Life!

Throughout November share your blessings on social media with us

During these challenging times, the Friends of the Waccamaw Library are excited to offer our patrons an online option to purchase specially selected books and gifts.

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Visit the Friends Center online shopping site:

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Sasee is Thankful for You

Friends of the Waccamaw Library

All proceeds benefit the Library by providing funds for books and media, technology and adult and children’s programming.

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Please note these books will be available for pick up at The Chandler-Peterkin Room at the Library.

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46 :: Sasee.com :: November 2020

Non-Traditional Pies for Thanksgiving!

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Alayna’s Boutique.......................................49 Angelo’s Steak & Pasta................................35 As For Me & My House.............................44 Barbara’s Fine Gifts.....................................28 Bethea Baptist Retirement Community.............................16 B. Graham Interiors Collection..................46 Bloomingails Consignment........................27 Brightwater.................................................51 Brookgreen Gardens...................................50 Carolina Car Care......................................27 Carolina Center for Advanced Dentistry....12 Chasing the Light Photography..................23 Chapeaux de Femmes.................................17 The Citizens Bank......................................17 CLASS Inc.................................................32 The Clean Up Club....................................45 Coccadotts.................................................41 Comfort Keepers........................................46 Dr. Grabeman............................................17 Dr. Stattele’s Rapid Weight Loss & Esthetics Centers....................................18 Eleanor Pitts Gifts & Jewelry......................17 Forever Revolutionary..................................9 Frank’s/Frank’s Outback.............................41 Friends of Waccamaw Library( FOWL)......45 Good Deed Goods.....................................16 Grady’s Jewelers..........................................29 Grand Strand Furnishing & Consignment.........................................41 Hammock Shops Village............................52 Hot Fish Club............................................43 Inlet Provision Company............................43 Intercoastal Endo, PC...................................3 The Lakes at Litchfield..................................7 Lazelle’s Flower Shop..................................48 Long Bay Symphony..................................45 Lyndabeth Thomas Insurance.....................29 Moore, Johnson & Saraniti.........................13 New Haven at Little River..........................11 Palmetto Ace..............................................31 Papa John’s Pizza ........................................33 Pawleys Island Bakery.................................44 Physicians Weight Loss...............................39 Portside Grande Dunes.................................2 Prodigy Kitchen & Bath.............................43 Pruitt Health Skilled Nursing, Home Health & Hospice Care...................15 River City Christmas..................................48 Shades & Draperies....................................33 St. Gabriel Assisted Living & Memory Care.........................................32 Sunset River Marketplace.............................5 The Palmettos Assisted Living & Memory Care.........................................35 This and That 4 You...................................48 Tidelands Community Hospice..................28 Wilson Senior Center.................................27

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BRIGHTWATER 55+ ACTIVE ADULT COMMUNITY affords you the luxury to freely plan and navigate the days how you want, without the burdens and hassles of traditional home ownership. With the safety and peace of mind, living in a well-established, private neighborhood, with on-site Care Services, located in one of Myrtle Beach’s most popular areas, it’s life the way it’s meant to be.

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