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May 2017

Miracles come in moments. Be ready and willing. - Wayne Dyer


Volume 16, Issue 5

May 2017 8

Listen to the Stories By Sue Mayfield Geiger

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A Friend to Remember

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Sasee Asks an Expert

By Jeffery Cohen

Planning Activities for a Person with Alzheimer’s or Dementia

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Not as it Appears

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Sasee Asks an Expert

By Erika Hoffman

Assisted Living: New Beginnings

By Nancie Leeton

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Showers of Blessings

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Sasee Asks an Expert

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By Pat Jeanne Davis

Choosing a Continuing Care Retirement Community

By Michael Fink

Soul Deep

By Melissa Face

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Wicked

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Making a Living, Making a Difference

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The Monster

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Why Are You Looking Up Here?

By Diane DeVaughn Stokes

Sasee Asks an Expert

Family Reunions Create Lasting Memories

By Olivia Cox

JDog Junk Removal & Hauling By Leslie Moore

By Billie Holladay Skelley

By Linda Hummel

Spreading Joy & Faith - Abbi Neal By Leslie Moore

Kids Page Kids Read It May Calendar


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Cover Artist

Kimberly Dawn

Live for the Moments You Can’t Put into Words (Kid Rock), by Kimberly Dawn Kimberly Dawn is a folk artist from Chattanooga, Tennessee. Although the roots of her art run deeply through the soil of the southern Appalachian Mountains, it was the Lowcountry of South Carolina that ultimately defined her boho beach style. Kimberly Dawn credits her early inspiration and surf style from the diverse southern community, the stunning beaches and the colorful boardwalk culture of coastal Carolina. Today, she is inspired by her travels, her family and the rich fabric of her life as southern folk artist. Kim’s first mentor was the iconic folk artist Howard Finster. She spent the next twenty years of her career traveling the folk art show circuit, mentoring many younger artists along the way. Although, Kim’s preferred medium is painting, she loves exploring other mediums including sculpture, collage and glasswork.

letter from the editor Hilda is the mother of one of my oldest friends. She’s 93 and lives with Kathy and her family – and she has Alzheimer’s. When I was in my early 20s, Hilda was a petite, pretty, well-dressed woman with the sweetest smile that effectively disguised the no nonsense strength underneath. Honestly, I was a little afraid of her – get out of line and she would put you in your place without a second thought. But, I always knew she liked, and maybe even loved me a little. Nevertheless, I was still careful to be on my best behavior in her presence. After being widowed in the ‘80s, Hilda assumed the role as matriarch of her family for many years. Her children and grandchildren were, and still are, her world. When her health began to fail, the family rallied around her, keeping her independent for as long as possible. But, one day, after a near fatal medication mistake, it became obvious that Hilda could no longer live alone. That day, she went home with Kathy for a “visit” that became permanent. I have watched my friend, and her entire family, support Hilda through each loss with dignity and grace. Their home is filled with laughter and fun – and yes there are bad days, but compassion and love reign supreme. And as awe-inspiring as Kathy’s consistent, gentle care of her mother is to me, for my friend it’s just what one does for family. And she is one of my heroes. Happy Mother’s Day to all – and especially to those heroes like Kathy who have proven to me that love transforms tragedy into grace, and that each day of life is indeed a celebration.

Kim now makes her home in Savannah, Georgia, and incorporates the nostalgia and rich history of the city into her most recent work. Currently, her work can be found in galleries throughout the southern lowcountry from North Carolina to Savannah. Look for Kimberly Dawn’s paintings in the Myrtle Beach area at Perrone’s, Collector’s Cafe, Muddy Waters, Sunset River Gallery, and Carl Kerridge Photography. Contact Kim on Facebook at Kimberly Dawn Clayton Arts

who’s who Publisher Delores Blount Sales & Marketing Director Susan Bryant

Photographer & Graphic Artist Aubrey Plum Web Developer Scott Konradt

Editor Leslie Moore

Accounting Kristy Rollar

Account Executives Amanda Kennedy-Colie Erica Schneider Gay Stackhouse

Administrative & Creative Coordinator Celia Wester

Art Director Patrick Sullivan

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.

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Copyright © 2017. 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.


Listen to the Stories by Sue Mayfield Geiger

I never knew her. My mother never knew her. She was an elegant, petite lady of Austrian heritage born in 1889 at St. Joseph’s Orphanage in San Antonio, Texas. She spent her early years under the watchful eyes of Catholic nuns until 1901 when she was adopted by the McCormick family. A student at Our Lady of the Lake, she had barely completed high school when a dashing, tall stranger came into her life, married her and moved her to Galveston. With long, dark hair and ivory skin, her beauty is only revealed to us in old photographs. One, in particular, taken on her wedding day, shows an angelic halfsmile on the face of a young girl with hair piled high on her head, ruffled lace at her throat, and an elaborate rosary draped around her neck. We can’t see her hands, but have been told that they lovingly embraced five children, combed their hair, touched their tiny fingers and nurtured their souls. She only lived to be 28-yearsold, dying in 1917 from complications of pneumonia when my mother was a mere nine-months-old. So, I grew up never knowing my grandmother. My mother grew up never knowing her mother. Her name was Marie Albright McCormick Robinson. We’ve traced together as much information as possible, but still there are gaps about the woman who gathered her children by her side each evening, taught them prayers and cuddled them in the folds of her petticoats and flowing skirt. So we have been told. After my mother married and had her own children, the details of my grandmother’s life seemed to fade away. Siblings married and had their own children and grandchildren. We always knew that there was a Marie Albright McCormick Robinson, but so little was known about her. There were only the stories. So important in life. The stories. They just keep getting passed on from generation to generation, keeping relatives and events alive. Heritage. Roots. Family Trees.

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I was always fascinated by the details of Marie’s short life. I studied her photo often, wondering about her early years in the orphanage, her youth, her feelings. I knew that my grandmother was buried in Galveston on 61st Street, but for some reason, we never went there. It wouldn’t be until a few years ago that I decided to stop at Calvary Catholic Cemetery and pay her a visit. Many of the tombstones still stand erect and majestic, yet others have crumbled and decayed, reclaimed by the marshy, low terrain, as was probably the case with my grandmother’s. Relatives contributed to help defray costs and a new marker was ordered. It is rosewood granite, engraved in lovely French script that reads: Marie McCormick Robinson, 1889 - 1917, With Loving Dedication. When my mother was still alive, I took her to see it. She was happy to see that her biological mother’s final resting place was now properly marked. Yet we didn’t just visit a marker. We visited my mother’s mother, my grandmother; a lady who was once a living, breathing important part of the universe. Although we never knew her, we will always love her. We will always remember her life, treasure the stories and wonder how we all might have been affected had she lived. Honor your mother – living or deceased. If you are fortunate enough to still have her in your midst, pay her a visit, tell her you love her, and above all else, get her to tell you some stories. You may have heard them a thousand times, but that’s okay. It’s always nice to hear them again.

Sue Mayfield Geiger

is the granddaughter and niece of pressmen who worked at the Gulf Publishing Company in Houston, Texas. She grew up near enormous typesetting machines, inhaling the smell of ink and writing stories on reams of discarded paper. Today she freelances for several publications, both regional and national, and her short stories and poems have appeared in various literary magazines. She lives on the Texas Gulf Coast.


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4612 Oleander Drive, Suite 102, Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 1-800-932-2738 www.hospicecare.net Ansley is the mother of three women who lives alone in the quiet town of Peachtree Bluff. She runs a successful design shop named after her two youngest daughters. When her children converge on her home, they each bring along life’s trials and tribulations. However it is a shipwrecked boat that threatens to bring back a lost love and deep-rooted secrets. How will she keep her past from her girls while maintaining her perfectly calm and peaceful life that she has finally achieved? Caroline is a Manhattan socialite whose mother’s southern roots never suited her…that is until the day her life is turned upside down. Pregnant and devastated, she packs up her daughter and heads down to the sanctuary of her mother’s home. She knows she will receive the support she needs from her mom, while her sisters will undoubtedly bring her back to reality. Kristy Woodson Harvey tells the story of this dynamic family through two different points-of-view. Each character processes the current events, as well as reflecting on the past. The breathtaking prologue

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Nicole McManus loves to read, to the point that she is sure she was born with a book in her hands. She writes book reviews in the hopes of helping others find the magic found through reading. Contact her at ARIESGRLREVIEW.COM.

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A Friend to Remember by Jeffery Cohen

Brenda and I were always best friends. Don’t ask me where we met. I really don’t recall, but it was probably in a library. A couple of bookworms like us were destined to squirm across each other’s paths eventually. Playing tag or hop scotch didn’t interest us. While other kids hung out at the local pizza parlor or nosed around at the corner sweet shop, our noses were buried deep in a book. I lived at 61 Sycamore Street, and Brenda lived at 94 Marion Street, just around the corner, but the space between those two houses was miles apart. In fact, they were worlds apart. Living in my house was like living in a shadow. Although there were plenty of windows, there was just never enough light and so, like a dusty houseplant forgotten in a corner, I choked as I struggled to grow. My father was a truck driver who worked hard for a living, often coming home smelling of honest sweat and oil. There were days when he was just so tired he’d shuffle his feet as he dragged himself through the front door, collapsed on the couch, and in minutes be sound asleep. My mother was a housewife who cooked and cleaned and took care of my two brothers and me. We were a handful, so between baking pies, scrubbing the tub, and making sure we didn’t kill each other, my mother’s days were pretty full, leaving little time to read. She would page through Life Magazine once in a while as my father read the daily paper. Then the television would go on, and the rest of the night would be devoted to Milton Berle’s clowning or the antics of I Love Lucy. “Jeffery, just what do you think you’re doing?” my mother would ask. “You’re always hiding behind one book or another. Why don’t you go outside? Get some fresh air.” I sometimes wonder if I would have ever known about a white whale called Moby Dick or a barefoot boy named Tom Sawyer if it hadn’t been for my father. Late at night when ever yone was deep in sleep, he would slip into my room and carefully push a small stack of books under my bed, then quietly creep back down the hall. Those books were the only light

I had in the stale dark gray cloud that surrounded me. Maybe that’s why I spent so much time at Brenda’s house. At Brenda’s, there was, as her mother would say with a shake of her head, “never a dull moment.” It was like being in the middle of a three-ring circus. The minute you walked through the front door, you expected to smell peanuts and popcorn. Instead of a calliope playing in the background, you might hear a Stravinsky symphony blaring from the stereo as Brenda’s father conducted each movement with a pencil he held as respectfully as if it were a maestro’s baton. His arms would flail wildly as he cocked his head back. With his eyes closed, he savored every note. Then there were days when the strains of Charlie Parker’s saxophone would climb up and down the scales and explode like a volcano, its smoldering notes rushing down in streams that would splash off the walls. “What is that?” I asked as my ears followed the bounce of Bebop for the first time. Brenda’s mother knelt down before me, looked me straight in the eye, and in a whisper that was as reverent as a prayer in a church chapel, she said, “That, my boy, is the Birdman.” Neighbors politely referred to Brenda’s house as “unusual.” If my house was in a fog, then their house was like looking into the sun. There were sculptures perched on pedestals. Paintings hung on every wall with fiery oranges and sizzling yellows that made you wonder if you could go blind by staring at them for too long. The living room wallpaper was red! Red… with splashes of gold and turquoise and a print that depicted the “Seven Wonders of the World.” Everywhere you looked, there were books – walls of shelved volumes that held everything from the perfectly worded classics to finger snapping beat poetry. There were piles of picture books with color photos of


exotic places like Tibet or the Fiji Islands and stacks of storybooks, encyclopedias, novels, textbooks. Heaps of history and how-to books rose from every available table. It was just like being in a library, only you didn’t have to be quiet.

were at a gallery opening. And the countless hours we spent in museums. Mother was never more alive. I was never more alive. And then, one morning, without warning, my mother’s interest in all of it disappeared. It was all gone in an instant.

With a house like this, you’d think one would never leave it, but Brenda and her folks spent as much time outside as they did in, and how lucky I was to have been included. There were picnics of caviar and fried chicken, Norwegian sweet cheese and Russian cornbread arranged haphazardly around a silver candelabra set down on a chenille bedspread. Lawnchaired nights were spent in the park where arias of “Madame Butterfly” echoed from the bandstand as lightning bugs flickered. There were plays and puppet shows, carnivals and concerts. Museums of every shape and size were offered up, from tiny closets with small town displays to the big city cathedrals of culture.

“Now she talked less, ate less, lived less. She no longer had the need to go anywhere, rarely leaving the house and then rarely leaving her room. The fire that once burned so wildly inside of her had been extinguished leaving behind smoldering ash. It was then that she explained to me that all she wanted to do was to join my father, and so she stopped eating and drinking.”

One afternoon, Brenda and I leaned against the cold stone walls of an Egyptian tomb at the Museum of Natural History while the rest of the city sweltered in a heat wave. We held hands, closed our eyes and wondered if life could ever be any better. And so it went, through grade school, high school and finally, we were heading off to college. Brenda chose a school in the Midwest while I stayed on the East coast. We vowed to stay close, and did in the early days, but distance and time slowly pried us apart, and we eventually lost touch. There were days when Brenda and her family would cross my mind and I would promise myself that I would call, but somehow I never got around to it. Then one Mother’s Day the phone rang.

“I tried in every way possible to get her to change her mind. I even threatened to have her force fed if need be, but she just smiled at me and shook her head. She held my hand in hers and said that this was her last wish. She asked me to help her fulfill that wish, and so I sat at her bedside and watched her slowly fail. As the hours passed, the room got smaller and quieter. I could see the light that once danced in her eyes softly surrender its step. The pink in her complexion drained to white as her breathing became more labored until I knew the end was near. As the sunset began to reflect on the walls of the bedroom, surrounded by her paintings and sculptures and piles of books, I crawled into her bed, gently slid my arms around her small, fragile frame and held my cheek to hers. I kissed her forehead, ran my hand over the silky strands of her silvery hair and told her what a special mother she was to me. I told her I loved her. I told her how much I loved her.”

“Jeff, it’s Brenda.” In an instant the years had melted away, and we were just two kids back home again.

As Brenda recalled the words she’d whispered, she explained that her mother answered with a deep sigh. As the sun finally fell below the horizon, and the day closed its eyes, Brenda’s mother calmly let go of her daughter’s hand.

“How’s your family? Gosh, I miss them,” I sighed, waiting to hear the latest stories.

I covered the mouthpiece, took a deep breath, finally managing to say, “Brenda, are you OK?”

There was a hesitation, and then Brenda explained that her father had passed away five years earlier. “He died in his sleep. An aneurysm. It was a shock to everyone because he was always so healthy. It hit Mom pretty hard. You know how close they were. I just couldn’t imagine her living alone so, I decided to quit my job and move in with her.”

There was a long silence, and then she said in a calm and measured voice, “I will be...now that I’m able to share this with my best friend.”

“How was that?” I asked, wondering if I could ever have made that kind of sacrifice. “It was actually quite wonderful,” she explained. “We became constant companions. You know what a ball of energy my mother always was. So our lives became a whirlwind of non-stop activity. There wasn’t an opera we didn’t attend or a play that we didn’t view and symposiums and discussion groups. If we weren’t running to a concert or a lecture, we

Jeffery Cohen

Freelance writer and newspaper columnist, Jeffery Cohen, has written for Sasee, Lifetime and Read, Learn, Write. He’s won awards in Women-On-Writing Contest, Vocabula’s Well Written Contest, National League of American Pen Women’s’ Keats Competition, Southern California Genealogy Competition, and Writer’s Weekly writing contest.

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Planning Activities for a Person with Alzheimer’s or Dementia

The Alzheimer’s Association advises that activities can enhance a person’s sense of dignity and add meaning to life as well as providing a sense of engagement, usefulness and accomplishment. If someone you love has Alzheimer’s or dementia, here are a few tips from the organization that may help. • Keep the person’s skills and abilities in mind – Stick with activities the person has always enjoyed. Adjust, as needed, to match the person’s current abilities. • Pay attention to what the person enjoys – Take note when the person seems happy, anxious, distracted or irritable. Some people enjoy watching sports, while others may be frightened by the fast pace or noise. • Consider whether the person begins activities without direction – Does he or she set the table before dinner or sweep the kitchen floor mid-morning? If so, consider incorporating these activities into the daily routine • Be aware of physical difficulties – Consider if the person tires quickly, or has difficulty seeing, hearing or performing simple movements. Avoid challenging activities. • Focus on enjoyment, not achievement – Choose activities that build on current skills. A professional artist might become frustrated over a declining quality of work, but an amateur might enjoy new opportunities for self-expression. • Look for favorites – A person who always enjoyed reading the newspaper may still enjoy this activity, even if he or she can no longer completely understand the content. • Encourage involvement in daily life – Tasks like setting the table, wiping countertops and emptying wastebaskets can provide a sense of accomplishment and help the person feel like an active and valued member of the household. • Relate activity to work life – A former office worker might enjoy activities that involve organizing, like putting coins in a holder, helping to assemble a mailing or making a to-do list. A former farmer or gardener may take pleasure in working in the yard. • Change activities as needed – Try to be flexible and acknowledge the person’s changing interests and abilities. Caregivers may find they have more success with certain activities at specific times of day, such as bathing and dressing in the morning. • Make modifications to your daily routine as needed – Adjust activities to disease stages. As the disease progresses, you may want to introduce more repetitive tasks. Be prepared for the person to eventually be less active.

The experts at the Alzheimer’s Association go on to say to consider your approach with activities and remain realistic, flexible and relaxed. Help get the activity started and break down into simple steps. Helping your loved one feel needed, even if you have to assist with the difficult parts of the task, is important. Don’t forget to talk about what you’re doing, even if the person can’t respond and don’t criticize or correct small mistakes. For more information, help and support, visit www.alz.org or call the Myrtle Beach chapter of the Alzheimer’s Association at 843-213-1516

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Not as it Appears by Erika Hoffman

Today I tripped over a long-haired, red fox – a stuffed toy for our two dachshunds. I picked it up, turned it over in my hands, and a smile spread across my face as I recalled something that happened three years ago. Our female miniature dachshund was dragging that stuffed animal around with her, although the toy fox was as large as our little dog, Bear-bear. At the time, my father, 92, was sitting in his favorite place on the sun porch where our female dachshund liked to lie in a sunny patch on a throw rug over the cool tiles. Nearby, my daughter lazed on the sofa reading. Dad looked over at the dachshund trotting proudly with the gnawed neck of the fox in her mouth and its white-tipped, limp tail dragging behind. “Honey,” Dad whispered to his granddaughter, “I believe one of your dogs has killed the other.” Heather felt her male dog resting next to her on the couch while she witnessed her tiny dog Bear-bear dragging the toy. “Grandpa,” she said, suppressing a laugh, “That’s not a dead dog. That’s a stuffed animal.” Dad looked confused, and then brightened. “Oh, I see now.” He chuckled.

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My dad suffered from dementia. And I’m sure his vision was failing too. Trekking to the ophthalmologist seemed almost pointless as it was frustrating for Dad to gauge what he saw through the lens that the doctor asked him about in much too quick a tempo. Glasses became a bother to Dad; he often misplaced them. Toward the end, he kept h i s wallet in the drawer too. Yet, when he first came to live with us seven

years earlier, he had a recitation he used to ensure he had all the important things on his person. He’d cross himself the way Catholics do. Only when performing the sign of the cross, instead of reciting the Trinitarian formula, he’d utter the following words and start by pointing at his shirt pocket. He’d exclaim, “Glasses!” Next, he’d gesture lower and shout, “Testicles!” He’d complete his sacramental chant with “checkbook and wallet” as he finished making the signs of the cross. At home was one thing but when he launched into this routine in public, I’d stop him before the cringe-worthy moment. As his dementia increased, it became harder to halt the rhyming memory cue before he bellowed something offensive. After a while, I kept his checkbook in a drawer and later his wallet; that ended his stand-up routine of blessing himself. Of course, my father had other stunts he’d perform if we dined out. If he offered to pay, he’d proceed to the counter, hand the cashier the bill and inquire in a sincere voice if she accepted credit cards. Then he’d nod and slowly pull out his worn wallet and rifle painstakingly, slowly through it, searching. Finally, he’d yank out and proudly throw down his AARP card. The flummoxed cashier didn’t know what to say as she saw before her a stooped and addled old man. In reality, Dad did this prank on purpose; he thought it funny. Then she’d politely whisper, “No Sir. That is your AARP card.” He’d say “Sorry,” and jerk out another card offering her a membership id in AIChE or a Belk credit card or something equally inappropriate. The process would continue as the queue grew, until finally I’d intervene. “Dad, give the girl the right card.” And then he would with a big grin. The fun Dad had with his visible senility and “punking” people were the good times, and they somewhat ameliorated the bad times and eased the poignant moments. Dad liked to gaze at the trees to spot birds, and frequently he’d see a monkey. It took a lot of my convincing for him to finally realize it


was a bird nest or a configuration of twigs that created an optical effect that looked like a monkey hanging from a branch. I’d say, “We don’t have monkeys here in North Carolina.” To which he’d reply, “Couldn’t one have escaped from the zoo?” Well… there was always that possibility. I hated to tell him that he was hallucinating. Once at the airport, the wheelchair assistant took off his sneakers and wristwatch and things in his pockets before pushing him through the scanner. After Dad was X-rayed and the vigilant TSA approved and verified he was no terrorist, the wheelchair assistant gave him back his things and coaxed on his sneakers and retied them. At the gate, I tipped her and told her I could handle it from there. She left. When Dad rose to walk to the row of chairs at the gate, he stumbled badly. “Erika, there is a rock in my shoe!” “Dad there is no rock in your sneaker. You wore them in here! You haven’t been outdoors.” He hobbled and almost tripped as he tried again to walk. ”I tell you there is a boulder in my shoe!” “Oh my!” I figured it was better to show than tell. I’d humor him. So I untied the offending sneaker and took it off and shook it upside down to show him it was devoid of stones, and it was simply his overactive imagination. Out fell his watch!

His last summer he visited my sister in Chicago because I was preparing for a son’s wedding and needed a respite from elder care. When my sister and her 6’4” husband came back here with Dad in their black Lincoln Continental, I asked my father if he had enjoyed the drive. “Oh yes,” he said. “The G man was very good to me.” “Who?” I asked. “The FBI agent who drove me back in the big black car. Nice guy.” I had to laugh as my brother-in-law does resemble a “man in black.” Three weeks later my father had a hemorrhagic stroke. Before he was released from the hospital to a nursing facility for recovery, another event happened, and he passed. Taking care of one’s elderly, demented parent is no piece of cake.  Not everyone can or should try to do it. But, for me, I am happy I did. Despite the trying times and the inconvenient moments, I got a lot of pleasure taking care of my old man. Quite a few laughs too as he was a character and full of joie de vivre. He was part of the greatest generation. I miss him.

“I told you,” he declared, and everyone around us laughed. After that, I wasn’t as smug correcting him about delusions!

Erika Hoffman

As the years rolled on, the dementia worsened. He’d wake my husband and me at two in the morning to alert us that someone had stolen his Cadillac from this hotel where we were staying. I’d reassure him that we were not only in our house but also that his car was parked safely in our garage. I’d accompany him back to his bedroom, down the long hall past our children’s rooms. Those rooms remained empty as the kids were all grown and gone. As I tucked him in, Dad always thanked me for “putting up” with him – his verb, not mine.

writes what she deems “humorous, non-fiction narratives.” She also likes to write about her travel experiences. Her stories get published by editors in magazines, e-zines and anthologies. But once, she self-published her two small books with many photos about her trip to Cuba. If you like her style of composition, you will enjoy these inexpensive books on Kindle, called Welcome to Cuba: Get in Line!  & Welcome to Koobah: What the C.U.C.?

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If you need Assisted Living and Memory Care for your loved ones, Murrells Inlet’s newest and most advanced Senior Living community is accepting reservations. We even have options for seniors who aren’t quite ready for full Assisted Living.

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Please call to schedule your private tour (843) 353-1525 699 Prince Creek Parkway, Murrells Inlet, SC, 29576 • ThriveAtPrinceCreek.com


Assisted Living: New Beginnings by Nancie Leeton

The first thing I would like readers to know is that assisted living is “not the end” – it is a new beginning! As a matter of fact, I introduce myself to visitors as the Director of New Beginnings – because that’s what I do, I help people begin a new life! Many people still have the old “nursing home” image in their minds when they think about assisted living. THRIVE is not a facility, it is a community. I think many folks would be surprised about the fact that many of our residents still drive, work on their computers and even play golf! Everyone that lives here is on the same journey, but each person travels it in a different way, and that is why we develop a personal care plan for every resident. I think people would also be surprised to see the energy we have here at THRIVE. Our calendar is full of purposeful activities and events – we are beyond bingo! The residents as well as the staff have a lot of fun here! Assisted living provides a stress-free lifestyle. No longer do you have to worry about preparing meals, doing your laundry, cleaning the house, or driving. I often hear residents and family members say they wish they had made the decision to move in sooner! One of the most gratifying experiences that I’ve had starting up this community is not only filling it with our wonderful residents, but enjoying the sound of laughter and witnessing strong friendships being forged. Friendships happen quickly here because our residents have a lot in common. Many were in the military or relocated here from the same area. Our residents and staff have a genuine concern for each other and that’s truly the beauty and the blessing of living in a community. It is very heartwarming to see families come together again to relax and enjoy time together. It is a huge relief for the adult child when they finally surrender their caregiver duties. It is also a relief for the parent who no longer has to worry about being a burden to their child. It truly takes a village to support our seniors and with our experienced and dedicated staff, we are the village. Nancie Leeton is the Community Relations Director at THRIVE at Prince Creek, located at 699 Prince Creek Parkway in Murrells Inlet. She counsels families and helps them through the journey of picking the right community for their loved one. She absolutely loves her work! For more information about assisted living, contact Nancie at 843-574-8985 or visit www.thriveatprincecreek.com.

Jesus said He is the only way to God. What if He’s right? THE PEOPLE OF SURFSIDE UNITED METHODIST CHURCH INVITE THE COMMUNITY TO JOIN OTHERS WHO ARE SEEKING GOD IN A NEW FAMILY FRIENDLY, INFORMAL TIME OF CELEBRATION AND SHARING CALLED THE WAVE, A CONTEMPORARY WORSHIP SERVICE SUNDAY MORNINGS AT 11 AM IN OUR FAMILY LIFE CENTER. COFFEE WILL BE AVAILABLE TO THOSE ARRIVING EARLY. COME AS YOU ARE. LEAVE WITH NEW FRIENDS.

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You can register online at Surfsideumc.org Surfside United Methodist Church 800 13th Avenue North Surfside Beach, SC 29575 (843) 238-2734

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Showers of Blessings by Pat Jeanne Davis

When Dawn entered my home that Sunday afternoon in January, she was six months pregnant with her first child. “Surprise!” we all shouted. How could I say “no” to my sister-in-law when she asked if the shower could be here? We spent that morning decorating with streamers and balloons of blue and pink. Family and friends of the mother-to-be brought hot and cold dishes, many rich desserts and sweetly wrapped gifts for the new arrival. My niece was twenty-two, excited about the forthcoming birth and surprised by the shower. I was excited too and had been so ever since I heard those life altering words back in September, “Pat, I have a baby for you.” At last, at age fortysix, my prayer was about to be answered, and I knew my life would never be the same. I was forty years old when John and I married. We wanted children, but realized our chances were slim due to my age and a progressively painful condition called endometriosis. I had struggled with this disease since my twenties. Ultimately it became necessary to make a decision. Did I want to have conservative surgery or a hysterectomy? We still wanted to have children and I was unwilling to totally eliminate my chance of conceiving. I choose the conservative approach. The surgery involved removing adhesions. Also, it was necessary to remove one ovary and 3/4th of the remaining one due to cysts. Of course, my gynecologist thought it highly unlikely – if not impossible – that with only 1/4th of one ovary, and in my mid-forties, I’d ever get pregnant. With the encouragement and strong urging of my doctor, my husband and I decided to pursue a private independent adoption as a means of gaining a family. There were many setbacks and disappointments for us

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during the next two years as prospective birth mothers changed their minds. I was on the verge of giving up – my hubby wasn’t. And I’m so grateful we didn’t. Because, this Sunday I was awaiting the birth of the baby who would be my son. I had none of the physical discomfort of carrying him, but felt all of the joy and anticipation my niece was experiencing. Neither John nor I had a clue about caring for a newborn. But somehow I was sure we’d be perfect parents – for we certainly couldn’t have been happier or more eager parents-to-be. No one at the shower that day knew that I was about to leave my job, had decorated a room as a nursery and bought clothes for a long anticipated infant. I wanted so much to shout that I, too, would soon be a mommy. But that would have to wait – the birth was a month away. I needed to be absolutely certain this time and keep quiet until the baby was actually in my arms. And besides this was Dawn’s day. I was happy for us both. Johnny was born on a Sunday one month later. Now my good news was here, and his birth announced to our family. All my friends had long since raised their children – most had children in college, and one was already a grandmother. When they learned about the new little man in my life they all got together and conspired, and the next baby shower was for my son and me. Life with my son changed me. Our baby taught us what it felt like to be parents and introduced us to a love that overwhelmed us both. The following year on Mother’s Day, our family got together for the day at my sisterin-law’s home. Dawn was expecting a second child and showing at four months. My son was walking now. The demands of an active child on me, an older mom, were exhausting. I’d been feeling ill for several weeks in a row. I considered the chance I may be pregnant. Impossible! I was forty-eight years old and infertile. But I made an appointment with the doctor the next day.


“My pregnancy test is what? Impossible!” I said, stunned upon hearing the test results. After the initial astonishment and joy of discovering I was pregnant subsided, I couldn’t help but wonder how I would cope with two small children at my age. Before long I was showing, a little soccer ball beginning to bulge in my stomach. This time around, my niece and I wore maternity clothes at the same time. She promised me everything would be fine. “I know all about being pregnant. Forget your age,” she reassured me. I wasn’t sure her advice was exactly scientific, but it certainly was encouraging. And my niece was right. My initial worry was unnecessary. It was a thrilling time in my life, having one child and another on the way. My pregnancy was uneventful, although I did experience the expected morning sickness, tiredness and a little edema in my ankles. I wanted to have a natural childbirth. So John and I attended all the classes for expectant mothers. Even with all our preparation though, fear arose in my heart again as my December due date approached. And then the day finally came when I went into labor. After several somewhat rocky hours and a C-Section, Joshua was born, full term and healthy at seven pounds, twelve ounces.

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As I entered my life as a parent of two, I pondered if it would feel different to mother an adoptive son and a biological son. But the love I felt for both of them was the same. Johnny was our first child, and we experienced all the wonder of having a brand new baby in the house – wonder that returned in full when Joshua, our surprise blessing, entered our home. Getting to know both of them has brought great joy into my life. My prayer was answered in God’s own time and in His own way. I don’t think anyone could have written a more unique story than my niece’s and mine, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

AT CAROLINA GARDENS AT GARDEN CITY, Pat Jeanne Davis

enjoys flower gardening, genealogy research and travel. Her work appeared in Faith & Family, GRIT Magazine, Splickety Magazine, Ruby For Women Magazine, Woman Alive and Chicken Soup for the Soul books. She has completed two historical inspirational novels and is represented by Leslie H. Stobbe Literary Agency. Pat loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at www.patjeannedavis.com.

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Stop By & Meet Our Family

Choosing a Continuing Care Retirement Community by Michael Fink

You’re not sure about retirement – and you certainly do not want to move several times. And, most importantly, you are not “old!” Maybe consider a Continuing Care Retirement Community (CCRC) also known as a Life Plan Community.

Foreign • Domestic Cars • Trucks • SUVs Oil Changes • Maintenance • Diagnostic A/C & Heating Brakes • Cooling System Check Engine Lights • Exhaust System

A CCRC is the complete package – supporting your active lifestyle and dedicated to maintaining your independence with multiple levels of care should you need it, all under one roof. With the multitude of living options and luxurious amenities, you will feel like you’re living in a resort – and you are! You’ll never have to move again. It’s a reassuring and important promise CCRC’s offer. Because you’re healthy and active, you will start in Independent Living, but if your needs change, you can easily transition to Assisted Living, Memory Care, Skilled Nursing or Rehabilitation. Surrounded by friends, you’ll have easy access to the care you need in your own home.

Bob & Myra Levine Owners

Studies show that by providing enriching activities, residents live longer, healthier and happier lives. It’s about how many years young you are, not how old. You will have the freedom to engage in wellness classes, participate in social activities, enjoy a fresh culinary experience and live life to the fullest. One of the best things about CCRC’s is the option of maintenance free living – no housework or cooking! The Lakes at Litchfield includes full maintenance and repair, housekeeping and deep cleaning, lawn care, security, transportation services and a flexible dining program. Retiring at a Continuing Care Retirement Community will open up a world of possibility to allow you to experience retirement how it should be.

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860 Inlet Square Drive • Murrells Inlet • 843-357-0862

Michael Fink has been the Director of Healthcare Marketing at The Lakes at Litchfield since September of 2014. After graduating from Lander University in 2007, he had the privilege of working in a vast array of different areas within Healthcare. A few of those being: Skilled Nursing Facility, Hospice, and now Assisted Living. Michael enjoys educating the community on all aspect of healthcare especially the lifestyle of a CCRC. Contact him at 843-235-9393.


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Soul Deep by Melissa Face

“Well good morning, cutie,” the receptionist says to my daughter, Delaney, as we sign in for our appointment. She continues to compliment my daughter’s looks, so I smile appreciatively and prompt Delaney to respond. “Thank you,” Delaney says on cue, and we find a seat in the waiting room where she continues to receive compliments and kind remarks. My daughter is beautiful. She has porcelain skin, a perfect pout, bright blue eyes and blonde hair that curls at the ends. She epitomizes the idealistic beauty that we have been exposed to in movies and magazines. She is only three years old, and I am a little worried for her. I’m her mom, so naturally, I believe she is pretty. But this is more than a case of maternal prejudice. Store employees and businessmen frequently stop to chat with her. “You’ve got a future Miss America on your hands there,” one man told my husband. Ladies stop us at the grocery store and in the mall to tell her how attractive she is. “Aren’t you just beautiful!” one lady exclaimed. “Come here,” she said. “I have something for you in my purse.” And the lady gave Delaney five dollars and told her to buy herself something nice. Delaney has an incredible personality in addition to her good looks. She is very verbal, musical and sarcastic. She is witty, clever and catches on quickly to new concepts. But she gets noticed and receives attention because she is pretty. She is offered money, treats and compliments based upon her physical appearance. I cannot help but wonder how she is processing this attention. What will she do with it as she grows older? Will she equate beauty to self-worth? Because I teach teenagers, I have a little window into a world that could be my daughter’s future. Some of my students have cosmetic bags larger than my suitcase. They perfectly apply liquid eyeliner, mascara and false lashes. They paint their faces and nails, dye their hair and tan their flesh. And they are only sixteen and seventeen years old. But somebody, at some point in time, sent them the message that these products would make them more beautiful. So that is what they do.

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A few years ago, I returned to my classroom from lunch and found one of my students crying at her desk. The boy she was dating had dumped her.

“He doesn’t like that I cut my hair short,” she sobbed into her notebook. “He doesn’t think I’m pretty anymore.” I listened and told her that was not the case, and even if it were, it didn’t matter what he thought. It was such a futile attempt at repairing her damaged self-esteem, and I knew it even as I uttered the words. Of course it matters what people think and say about our appearance. It hurts when people make negative comments about our clothing, a new hairstyle, or our weight. It stings when others hint that we must be “expecting” because we have gained a little around the middle. Those comments are hurtful to an adult, so certainly they can be injurious to a teenager. In the past year, I have lost quite a bit of weight. It was a change that I needed to make for myself in order to feel more comfortable, fully enjoy my life and get back to the old me. I have received a lot of compliments since I began this journey, most of them from people who would love me no matter my size. Those are the ones that matter most. But one individual told me that I looked “great, really skinny.” And a part of me, perhaps the teenage girl within, couldn’t help but wonder if those two adjectives had the same meaning. In reality, I know better. I know that I am so much more than how I look. I know that real beauty comes from a place deep inside of me, and that weight loss, hair color, and makeup matter very little. That’s what I want my daughter to understand. I want her to see herself as beautiful, regardless of what others see or say. I want her to accept compliments graciously, but realize deep down in her soul that only what she thinks is of real significance. Today Delaney has decided to wear a hot pink tutu over her corduroy pants. “How does this look, Mom?” she asks. She stretches her hands toward the sky and twirls across her bedroom floor. “Am I beautiful?” Instead of responding the way I usually do, I instead ask her how she feels. “I feel great!” she says. I admire her toddler confidence and wish I could bottle it up and store it for a time when she needs it most. “You are great,” I remind her. “And I’m glad that you feel that way.” And as her mom, I hope that she always will.

Melissa Face

lives in southeastern Virginia with her husband and two children. She teaches English, writes essays, and spends a little too much time on Facebook. Email Melissa at writermsface@yahoo.com.


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2017 Lineup 2 5 t h

A N N I V E R S A R Y

October 5

18th Annual Pawleys Island Wine & Food Gala October 6

Artrageous

Music, Art and Dance extravaganza

October 7

Grammy Award-winning

Delbert McClinton October 13

You’ve Got A Friend

Carole King & James Taylor Tribute

October 14

Grammy Award-winning Singer-Songwriter

Melissa Manchester October 19

Grammy Award-winning Bluegrass Group

Balsam Range October 20

Joe Gransden Big Band

October 21

Masters of Soul Motown ~ Tabled Event

For Tickets visit www.pawleysmusic.com or call 843-626-8911


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Ilka Doubek, Director 97 Otis Drive, Pawleys Island SC (843) 237-7465 e-mail ldaaoffice@gmail.com or visit us at litchfielddance.com!

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Wicked

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes She was beautiful. Still is. She had long blonde straight hair flowing down her back. She was only nine years older than me and three months pregnant with my precious baby sister, Cristy. I could not believe that this was my step-mom. Not to mention I had not even met my father yet! But if it weren’t for her, I would have never met him. In 1969 I was graduating from high school at seventeen years of age questioning all sorts of things in my life, as most teenagers at that age do. But I always felt that unless I could meet my birth father, I would never be complete. Up until that year I had never even seen a picture of him because my mom cut his head out of every photo she had of him and me together. I couldn’t blame her as he left her without any child support when I was only nine months old, causing us to live with my maternal grandparents. Mom was only nineteen and this had to be the most devastating episode in her life. But you can bet that every kid who is adopted or estranged from a parent wonders what those missing people are like, what traits have they inherited from their parents, and they deal everyday with this emptiness of “Why did you not love me and want me?” Once I learned from my paternal grandparents that my birth father was remarried for a third time to a wonderful woman who had two daughters from a previous marriage and a new baby on the way, I was hooked to meet them. I knew it would satisfy my soul just to talk to my father about the choices he made eighteen years ago, and having another sibling to love would be a bonus, as my mom was now remarried to the best dad in the world, and I had an incredible sister from their marriage.

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However, when my mom and new dad graciously agreed that they would support me in this effort to meet Howard, my birth father, he was not so sure he wanted to meet me. When he received my letter maybe he wondered what I wanted from him after all these years. Maybe he was afraid I would be angry and disrupt his life. And maybe he did not want to face the fact and be reminded that he not only left my mom and me, but also left us penniless. It was my stepmother, Norma who encouraged Howard to pursue this opportunity to meet me. She could have been jealous of the situation, perhaps even wondering if there was an ulterior motive. But she explained to him that it was the least he could do in meeting with me and answering the many questions I had about growing up without my father in my life. She told him it would be as cathartic for him as it would be for me. And it was. I’ll never forget that hot summer day in Valley Forge when my grandfather drove me to meet my father for the first time. Norma greeted us saying that Howard was a basket case all day and was out riding around, but she knew he would soon return. Next thing I know, a man with long dark hair, an earring in his ear, and black leather pants, yes even in August, drove up on his Harley Davidson. I was in shock to see this handsome, hunky guy standing before me. This is my father? He and Norma looked like they just stepped off the TV show Mod Squad. Howard asked me to hop on his Harley, which was the first and only time to this day that I ever rode on a motorcycle. He took me to Valley Forge Park where we sat and talked for an hour or so about all kinds of things. He was fascinated by how much alike he and I were in talents and abilities. He


was most curious, however, about what my mom had said about him when I was young. I told him she never said anything bad about him, but she did cut his head off in all my baby photos.

mom and new dad. She encouraged Howard to do the right thing and agree to my visit. I feel so lucky to be surrounded by all of my family who let bygones be bygones, and who put their own angst, hurt and feelings aside for the betterment of me.

That made him laugh hysterically. Even though today I teasingly call Norma “Wicked,” as in wicked stepmother, and even presented her with a tee shirt with that name imprinted on it, she is wickedly etched in my heart forever. She could never understand the magnificent gift she gave to me in putting the pieces of my past together, making my heart full and complete today.

Well, the rest of the story is a love story. Sadly, my father died five years after our meeting, but I visited him often prior to his death and grew to love my step mother who brought such joy into my life through her own caring spirit and the love I have for my sister Cristy. And on the day of meeting my father, he made me a promise to visit me in South Carolina someday to meet my new dad and have a reunion with mom after all these years. That happened three months before he passed away. It was his greatest gift to me.

Diane DeVaughn Stokes

MAY

My life would not be as fulfilled if I never met Howard, Norma or Cristy. And I have two great step-sisters too! And Norma made it all happen, after I received the blessing to seek them out from my

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and her husband Chuck own Stages Video Productions in Myrtle Beach. Diane is also the Host and Producer for TV show “Inside Out” as seen on HTC channel 4, and “Diane on Six” on EASY Radio. Her new book Floating On Air- A Broadcasting Love Affair is available on amazon.com.

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Family Reunions Create Lasting Memories

by Olivia Cox Family reunions are where some of the most cherished memories are made, whether it’s reuniting with your favorite cousins, savoring the taste of your Grandma’s famous 12-layer caramel cake or laughing at your crazy uncle’s silly jokes. Planning the event starts with the basics: who to invite, when it will take place, where it will be held and, of course, what to eat. First, decide who to invite and stick to it. If you want to invite second cousins and extended family, you’ll want to invite everyone on that branch of the family tree. Once you decide whom to invite, deciding on when and where the reunion will take place comes next. With everyone’s schedules being so hectic, it’s recommended to set your date as far in advance as possible so everyone can plan around your dates. Location is key for this type of event. A family reunion should either be centrally located or choose a destination location. Should it be an afternoon at the family farm, a weekend camping trip to the mountains, a cruise to the Bahamas or a week at a Pawleys Island beach house? For annual reunions a weekend might suffice; although for less frequent reunions, you might consider a longer stay. When deciding on location and length of stay, be sure to keep family budgets in mind.

REGISTER YOURSELF OR A TEAM BY CONTACTING US AT: 843.448.8379 OR VISIT US AT: www.LongBaySymphony.com A LONG BAY SYMPHONY GUILD EVENT:

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Planning a family reunion might seem overwhelming, but once you gather the basics it’s easy to move forward. If you start to stress just remember there are plenty of people willing and ready to help you make your family reunion unforgettable!

SATURDAY, JUNE 10, 2017

MYRTLE BEACH NATIONAL GOLF CLUB 4900 National Dr., Myrtle Beach, SC

8:00 am registration 8:30 am shotgun start 18 Hole Scramble (Captain’s Choice) $75 per person

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Finally, the most-asked question: “What are we going to eat?” Once you have the total number of family members attending, the location, the date and the time; you’re ready to start thinking about food, everyone’s favorite part of a family reunion (besides seeing your family of course!). When designing a menu for a family reunion there are several factors to consider: Are there any family members who are vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free or downright picky eaters? Would buffet stations or a plated meal be best? What style cuisine would best match your family?

$300 per foursome Door Prizes Prizes for 1st, 2nd and 3rd place teams Games of Skill (and luck) on the course Breakfast ~ Beverages ~ Awards Luncheon

For sponsorship information please call the Symphony office at 843-448-8379.

Olivia Cox is the Public Relations Manager for Inlet Affairs Catering across from the Marshwalk in Murrells Inlet. Catering both on-site at our event location and off-site at your venue of choice, Inlet Affairs can help you design your perfect event. Contact Inlet Affairs by calling 843-651-2904, emailing info@inletaffairs.com or visit their website at inletaffairs.com.


JOIN WIPL AND

LEAD THE CHANGE Women in Philanthropy and Leadership for Coastal Carolina University brings together women of diverse talents and experiences who share the ambition of building a better CCU and a better community. WIPL is a movement–a gathering of like-minded individuals who join their collective talents and resources to make a positive impact on CCU and its extraordinary students. WIPL is motivating and inspiring women as leaders, donors and advocates while simultaneously transforming women’s giving for greater impact.

FIVE WAYS TO GET INVOLVED WITH WIPL

1 2 3 4

ATTEND AN EVENT To fulfill our mission and commitment to leadership, WIPL sponsors luncheons with inspiring speakers, and provides program support for leadership opportunities both on campus and in the community.

BECOME A MEMBER Our members donate $250 annually, and the combined impact of these funds has led to annual scholarship awards totaling $25,500 in 2016-2017.

FOLLOW US ON FACEBOOK We post news, leadership articles and event updates on our Facebook page, and following and sharing our stories helps support our mission to inspire women.

BE A WIPL INSIDER

Get the latest events and news.

TEXT WIPL TO 51555

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BE A WIPL INSIDER!

Text WIPL to 51555 to receive updates with news and events. facebook.com/WIPLCCU @CCU_WIPL

VOLUNTEER Volunteer your time to help promote the Women’s Leadership Conference by joining our Planning Committee.

To join WIPL, contact Hatton Gravely, WIPL director, at wipl-adm@coastal.edu or 843.349.5033. Learn more at www.coastal.edu/WIPL.

conference & celebration


Making a Living, Making a Difference David Kaiser JDog Junk Removal & Hauling by Leslie Moore

“Service has always been important to me,” began David Kaiser. “And I always wanted to fly for the military. My father and uncles fought in WWII, so I grew up hearing all their stories. They all came back safely, and my home was always very patriotic.” After not making the best grades in high school, David went to work in construction while he figured out what to do with his life. His epiphany came during a fishing trip with his grandfather on a remote lake in Arizona. The fish weren’t biting, so David decided to hike to the top of a nearby mountain. “As soon as I got to the top, a T38, a military training jet, came shooting overhead. I saw both pilots, they kicked in the afterburner and went straight up!” When he came back down, David asked his grandfather if he had seen the jet. Always David’s role model, he said, “Yes I did…isn’t that what you always wanted to do?” When David answered in the affirmative, he went on to say, “Then why don’t you just do it!” Soon after that day, David started college and after graduation, enrolled in the Navy’s Aviation Officer Candidate School. This is the same extremely challenging program highlighted in the movie, An Officer and a Gentleman and was run by the Marine Corps. David’s class started with 76 candidates and only 23 graduated and, of course, he was one of the elite. “This program taught me a lot about myself and how I react under pressure,” David told me, remembering. David served his country as a Navy aviator until his retirement in 2009. During Desert Storm, he flew 46


missions. “We were the nighttime carrier and did the most amount of strikes in Iraq. We flew around the clock until the other carriers and the Air Force got there. But, we were well trained and prepared. Only one aircrew was lost.”     As much as David loves military life, being separated from his family was hard. “I retired from active duty and joined the Reserves so I could spend more time with my wife and our two sons, who are now 20 and 22.” David’s older son graduates this month from Texas A&M and will join the Texas Army National Guard piloting Apache helicopters. Both boys want to make movies as their career and Ethan, the youngest, helps his dad out in his business with marketing videos. After retirement, David worked for a Defense Contractor for several years, but family brought him to the Grand Strand area. His wife’s mother has lived in the area for 33 years and at age 83, needed family close by. Always looking for a way to be of service and make a living, David found the JDog Franchise and knew this was perfect for him. This relatively new franchise is only sold to veterans and military families, and while it is a for-profit venture, the goal is to give as many veterans as possible jobs. Currently, statistics show that veterans have the highest unemployment rates of any group in the United States. “I try to hire as

many as possible, and right now 100% of my employees are veterans.” David’s crew will come and clean almost any space, hauling away and disposing of almost everything. If anything can be repurposed, David will do that also – recycling or donating anything still usable. “I donate a lot to our area’s homeless veterans,” David told me. “I store items at my own expense to help them get started.”  The rest goes to other charities or needs as much as possible. “Right now, we are able to divert about 50% of everything from the landfills.” “We are a service oriented business based on the military values of Respect, Integrity and Trust; I am fully licensed and insured, we are drug tested, background checked and covered by workman’s comp…we don’t cut corners” David began. “You go through your stuff, tag what you want removed, and we take care of the rest – and we perform all the labor and leave everything clean and swept.” The crew of seasoned veterans will also do small demolitions at your home and limited moving. JDog does commercial work as well, keeping construction sites clean and eliminating the need for unsightly, overflowing dumpsters. “Just call us,” David told me as we finished our conversation.  “Our prices are reasonable and you can be assured the job will be done well…the military way with Respect, Integrity and Trust!” Contact David at JDog by calling 843-314-1954, find them on Facebook @JDogMyrtleBeach or visit jdogjunkremoval.com/franchising/myrtle-beach. 35


Design services are available! Come in & talk to one of our talented interior designers who can help you with all of your decorating needs!

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Give Well Do Good 10% of every gift sale is donated to charity! Free gift wrap is just another bonus!

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Lee’s Inlet Apothecary • 3579 U.S.17 Business, Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 843.651.7979 • info@GoodDeedGoods.com • www.GoodDeedGoods.com

Rare blue Larimar found only in the Dominican Republic Broadway at the Beach • 843-445-7910 Barefoot Landing • 843-281-0736


South Myrtle Beach 843-626-7272 Myrtle Beach (Kings Rd) 843-839-1777 North Myrtle Beach 843-280-3222 Garden City 843-357-6400 Socastee 843-293-7272 Conway 843-347-7272 papajohns.com

ByGone Beauties

Eclectic Furniture and Treasures

1409 Hwy 17 South Surfside Beach, SC 29575 (Beside Jerribob’s)

843-215-9677

Shades & Draperies S I N C E

1 9 8 0

Your Complete Source for Custom Window Treatments and Bed Coverings Shades • Shutters • Blinds 4905 Hwy. 17 South Bypass, Murrells Inlet 843-651-8177 | www.ShadesAndDraperies.com

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The Monster

by Billie Holladay Skelley One of the worst epidemics in the history of the United States occurred in 1952. That year a monster virus stalked the country. It inflicted a disease called poliomyelitis, which often was called simply polio. This particular virus was unique because of its specificity for humans and its highly contagious nature. Nearly 58,000 people fought the demon that year. Over 21,000 came away with some degree of paralysis and more than 3,000 lost their fight. Beyond the disease, this monster spread fear. Since healthy children and active adults could be stricken, there appeared to be no rhyme or reason to this fiend. Anyone anywhere could be affected. People tried everything they knew, but previous remedies did not work. Because it struck so indiscriminately and no one knew how to stop it, polio was both demoralizing and terrifying. In 1954, my father succumbed to the monster. I was only two at the time and do not remember his death, but I do remember the campaign that arose across the country to find a weapon to defeat this scourge. It was called the March of Dimes, and for the first time, people felt there was something positive they could do to contribute to the polio monster’s demise. My mother encouraged me to save my dimes so I could drop them into a canister on the counter at one of our local stores. The cardboard cutout attached to the container featured a pretty little girl with crutches and braces on her legs. My dimes, my mother said, would be used to create a vaccine. I did not know exactly what a vaccine was back then, but I knew it was something to stop the villain that took my father. Fortunately, at that time, the world had two monster-slayers, Dr. Jonas Salk and Dr. Albert Sabin. By the mid-1950s and early 1960s their vaccines were proving effective. The battle against polio was turning.

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One morning, during those years, I distinctly remember my mother waking me before sunrise. She had me put on my best dress and my black patent Buster Brown shoes. Hand in hand, we walked to the local elementary school just as the sun was coming up. The doors were locked, but we waited. Holding my hand tightly, my mother and I stood there for what seemed like hours. A long line formed behind us. At last, the doors opened. Maintaining her vise-like grip, my mother led me to a table where a nurse was sitting. The nurse asked many questions. “And the child’s father?” “Deceased. 1954. Polio,” my mother answered. Pausing, the nurse took a pink-colored sugar cube from a silver tray. She placed it on my tongue. It tasted good. Reassuringly, the nurse looked at my mother. “The vaccine has been administered.” Finally, my mother relaxed her grip on my hand. As we turned to leave, she bent down close to my ear and whispered. “Your father was enough. Now the monster will never get you.”

Billie Holladay Skelley

is a registered nurse by profession and received her bachelor’s and master’s degrees from the University of Wisconsin in Madison. She has written several health-related articles for both professional and lay journals, but also enjoys writing poetry, short stories, and historical essays. In addition, the author has written three books for children.


Making You Smile is Our Special-Tea ! LET US DO YOUR HEAVY LIFTING & SUPPORT A VETERAN AT THE SAME TIME!

Over 60 Teas • Homemade Quiche • Sandwiches & Wraps Scones/Pastries • Soups • High Tea Served Daily by Reservation Only

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The tea room is the perfect place for a Mother’s Day tea! Reserve your space now! A special occasion isn’t necessary to eat at the tea room. Anytime you eat at the tea room it’s a special occasion!

Serving a spectacular lunch Monday - Saturday, 10-4. No reservations required. Call ahead seating encouraged. 843-651-3071 • www.justbecauseIYQ.com Oasis Plaza • 2520 Highway 17 Business South • Garden City

Tea Room & Boutique

Residential Junk Removal • Commercial Junk Removal Labor Services • Estate Cleanouts • Donation Transport Government & Federal Services Light Demolition (sheds, fences, hot tubs, etc...) We Served & Protected Our Homeland & Now We Are Ready To Serve You...The Military Way With Respect, Integrity, & Trust!

LEARN MORE AT

www.jdog.com 843.314.1954

FOLLOW US ON SOCIAL MEDIA

Vintage & Shabby Chic Home Décor

843-333-0136 The Oasis Shopping Center 2520 Hwy.17 Business, Garden City

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Gold • Silver • Diamonds • Gemstones Handmade & Castings • Pearl Restringing Watch Batteries and Watch Bands Most jewelry repairs while you wait!

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We can Custom Design to meet your needs! We can set your Diamonds & Gemstones while you watch!

The Best of the Taste of Georgetown 2016! Serving Fresh & Local Seafood!

Over 30 Years Experience!

IN THE OASIS SHOPPING CENTER

(between Eggs Up Grill & Time Warner Spectrum)

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843-651-3517 2520 HWY 17 Bus. South, Garden City

Nothing Fancy, Just Down home gooD! 13089 Ocean Highway, Pawleys Island, SC, 29585 Litchfield Village • (843) 314-9369 Mon - Thur: 11am - 9pm Fri - Sat: 11am-10pm • Sun: 11am - 8pm southerncomfortsrestaurantandbakery.com


Why Are You Looking Up Here? by Linda Hummel

It took a few years for Uncle Tom to remodel his kitchen. Maybe it was only months (life moved more slowly when I was a kid), but every time we’d visit, there was a tarp hanging somewhere or an open bucket of paint on the floor. Toward the end of the project, the only part that remained in flux was a 3 ft. by 8 ft. space between the top of the Formica cabinets and the ceiling. My uncle and aunt were unsure what color to paint it, so that space remained naked for months. After a while, in some late night creativity he was known for, Uncle Tom took a thick black marker and wrote on the plaster: “WHY ARE YOU LOOKING UP HERE?” In my house, that space would have been painted green or yellow an hour after the plaster dried. My parents were more, shall we say, sticklers for the details. I decided I wanted to grow up to be jaunty – like my uncle – to worry less about the way things looked. His house might be a mess (it was always a mess), but who cared when I had so much fun, sitting around the table playing board games with my cousin or helping my aunt make cookies. By the time I married, had kids, and settled into our first home, I’d succeeded in only half of Uncle Tom’s legacy: I turned out to be a terrible housekeeper. But instead of adopting a C’est la vie attitude like his, I spent precious time wallowing in guilt: The disorganization, the dust balls that emerged from under furniture when the kids ran by, the constant sad state of the bathroom. I could pull plastic containers from the back of the refrigerator and even if there had been a cash prize waiting, could not have identified the contents. Uncle Tom would have giggled at this and maybe made

it his opening salvo as company arrived. He might have created a contest for who could name what it used to be. Not me. Worse than that, I became a first-class phony as soon as I knew company was coming. I’d begin to scrub everything in a days-long attack that bordered on a Silkwood shower for a house. Once this onslaught started, my kids would always chime in: “Who’s coming over?” I’d pretend it was mere coincidence that we were having a dinner party for eight, and that I was arranging the cleaning supplies under the sink in alphabetical order. They didn’t buy it, of course, but I just wasn’t able to let guests see the “real” us. I would think of my uncle often while vacuuming behind furniture or mopping the kitchen floor on my hands and knees hours before that doorbell rang. And as I wiped down every spice in my cabinet or went on a search for the last crumb in the living room, I’d ask myself Why? Would my company think less of me? Refuse to eat? Leave? My memories of Uncle Tom’s house are the memories I want my guests to come away with. His home had a rosy glow, dust balls and all. No one ever looked for stains on the family room carpet. Or checked the bathroom for grime behind the toilet. That’s the home I want. Company is coming tomorrow. There’s something in the refrigerator I can’t identify. I’m not moving it. Maybe I’m there, finally.

Linda DeMers Hummel

is a Baltimore-based writer who has recently completed a memoir, “I Haven’t Got All Day.” She spends a lot of time lately hoping to get good news from her agent.

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Spreading Joy and Faith: Abbi Neal by Leslie Moore

If you’ve watched Not the News or Carolina AM on WFXB FoxTV, you’ve seen the bubbly and adorable Abbi Neal, cohost of both shows with Greg Rowles. Behind the scenes, Abbi is just as friendly and fun, and her strong faith inspires her to give back to her community, spreading joy and love to all who know her. Abbi and her husband Deric have four children, Avery, 9, Gavin, 7, Coltn, 4 and Izabell, 2. Both work full time, demanding jobs that they juggle with the many demands of parenting. Deric and Abbi also manage to make time for a date night at least twice a month. For most people, that would be enough – but not for Abbi. I asked Abbi about her schedule – I just could not imagine how she found the time to volunteer. “Actually, my work hours are great,” she began. “I drop the kids off at school, head to the gym for my workout and get to work about 8:50 am. After I do my hair and makeup, we work on Not the News and Carolina AM. Afterward, I do any other shoots or commercials that are scheduled and pick up the kids by 2:30 pm.” What you don’t see in that schedule is that Abbi gets up at 4:30 am every morning to pray and read her Bible. She then writes a faith-based devotion that she sends to 60 people, mostly family and friends, brightening their day with her positive words and loving faith. This kind of schedule leaves her with very little sleep. “I was called to do these devotions for a while, about three months actually, before I started doing them,” Abbi laughed. “None of my kids sleep well, so I’m lucky if I get four hours a night. It’s really by the grace of God that I get it all done. But, I do love coffee!” She is quick to add that her husband is very supportive of her work. “He is my rock. I couldn’t do it without him.” Abbi gives back to others to spread her joy in her faith and to set an example for her children. “I want them to know that it isn’t always about them – serving others is important.”


For the past two years, on Fridays, Abbi goes to Magnolias Assisted Living in Myrtle Beach for visits and crafts with residents. “I love sharing the Gospel and talking with these people. They’ve become like family to us – and that’s important because we don’t have any family here. It’s been an awesome journey.” At least twice a month Abbi takes her children with her – they love spending time with their adopted family. “The residents of Magnolias help me more than I help them. Volunteering has taught me that everyone has an amazing story to tell.” Before Abbi volunteered at Magnolias, she gave her time to New Directions, then called Street Reach, helping the homeless. “Just because someone is homeless doesn’t mean that they are a drug addict. They might have made just one bad decision. Maybe they just need to be told they are loved and not alone.” Abbi went on to tell me that many stories of re-

demption came out of the years she volunteered at Street Reach. “People did get back on their feet. There is hope and strength in Christ.” “The brokenness in people is one of the hardest things to see,” Abbi told me when I asked her if she ever became discouraged. “People are lonely.” Remembering people’s names is one of the things Abbi believes can make a difference. “Names are important, and some people never hear anyone say their name. Just hearing their name makes people feel better about themselves.” “For me, all of this comes from God. It’s not by my power that everything gets done. I couldn’t do it any other way. It’s so easy for life to become all about us. I want to share the love of God and stay focused on His calling for my life.”

Taylor’s

“A Ladies Boutique”

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Furniture • Home Decor Jewelry • Local Photography

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Name

Address City State

Zip Send check or money order to Sasee Distribution PO Box 1389, Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

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Celebrate Memorial Day with the Kids

May 29

Memorial Day is known for fun – picnics, going to the beach, maybe even a vacation. But, this special holiday celebrates and honors our military heroes. Try a few of these fun Memorial Day activities with your kids and teaching them the importance of honoring those who protect and defend. Fly a Flag! Even if you don’t have an American flag, the kids can make one from construction paper or color one you’ve printed or drawn for them. Older kids can learn to fly and fold a flag. On Memorial Day the flag should be flown at half-staff from sunrise until noon only, then raised briskly to the top of the staff until sunset, in honor of the nation's battle heroes. Your kids will have fun creating and sending a card or care package to a soldier. Anysoldier.com has ideas of what to send and addresses. Let the kids make (with your help) a red, white and blue dessert! A yogurt parfait with strawberries and blueberries is healthy and fun. Or make a cake decorated like a flag, using the same fruit.

Everyone loves a parade! Let your kids and their friends have a Memorial Day parade! Help them decorate their bikes or scooters with patriotic streamers and signs. Then ride around the yard or up and down the sidewalk. (Don’t forget to make sure everyone has on their helmet.)

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Take the kids to Memorial Day Activities! Myrtle Beach, North Myrtle Beach, Surfside Beach and Georgetown all have services honoring our fallen heroes.


–Kid’s Read It!–

Nicole Says…Read these books to your kids! Reviews by Nicole McManus

Reading is the perfect way to travel the world from the comforts of home. Some of my favorite childhood memories are when my mom or grandmother and I read books together. These three books will allow the entire family to go on entertaining journeys. Hubert Little’s Great Adventure Written and Illustrated by Trilby Plants Hubert loves his family. His dad is away battling the snakes when his mother gets sick. Hubert decides he will swim across the lake to get the medicine for his mom. On his way back, he is captured by an octopus. Will Hubert be able to escape and make it home to help his mom? This is a very cute story about a young frog showing compassion and responsibility. Adults will chuckle at the mom’s allergies. The illustrations are adorable and will keep the youngest of “readers” entertained.

The Adventures of Simply Sam: A Present for Papa by Jim Eberwein Sam is excited to celebrate his Papa’s birthday. His mom fixes him a hearty pancake breakfast and gives him money to go buy the perfect gift. Unfortunately, Sam stumbles into some trouble along the way. Will Sam be able to find a present in time? This adventurous story of a young boy teaches children a valuable lesson in gift-giving. The illustrations and font have a video game feel attractive to children, while the repetitious words will help them learn.

Where is Robin? USA Written by Robin Barone and Illustrated by Robyn Mitchell Young Robin is excited to learn more about the world. She tells her mom that she is going to travel the USA. Robin learns what makes the popular cities so great. This adorable book is perfect for teaching young children the history and geography of the United States. The sing-song rhythm is a bonus for reading out loud to children. The pictures capture the beauty each city offers. Where is Robin? USA is a must-have for the family’s home library. The ending provides hope for a future, worldwide-themed book.


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May 2017

19th Annual Waccamaw Arts & Crafts Guild Juried Exhibition The Art Museum at Myrtle Beach, 3100 S. Ocean Blvd. For more info, call 843-235-2510 or visit myrtlebeachartmuseum.org

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Carolina Master Chorale: Pirates of Penzance 6th – 7:30 pm, Ocean View Baptist Church, Myrtle Beach; 7th – 4 pm, Ocean View Baptist Church, Myrtle Beach; $20 adults, $15 seniors, $5 students. For more info, call 843-444-5774 or visit CarolinaMasterChorale.com

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Moveable Feast Mary Kay Andrews discusses The Beach House Cookbook, 11 am, Kimbel’s Wachesaw, $30. For more info, call 843-235-9600 or visit classatpawleys.com

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Jason Michael Carroll, Music in the Park 6 pm, Francis Marion Park, Georgetown. For more info, visit hammockcoastsc.com

12-28

AniMagic - Songs from the World of Animation Swamp Fox Players, Strand Theatre, Georgetown. For times and ticket info, call 843-527-2924 or visit swampfoxplayers.com

20-21

Blue Crab Festival 9am-6pm, Little River. For more info, call 843-249-6604 or visit bluecrabfestival.org

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Rivertown Music & Craft Beer Festival 11am-6pm, downtown Conway. For more info, call 843 248 6260 or visit conwayalive.com

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12th Annual Mayfest on Main 10 am-6 pm, Main Street, North Myrtle Beach. For more info, call 843-281-2662 or visit northmyrtlebeachchamber.com

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Sunset Beach Concerts 24th – Tim Clark Band; st 31 – Silk Groove Band; 7-9 pm, Village Park on Queen Anne Street, Sunset Beach, N.C. For more info, call 910-367-6396 or visit sunsetbeachconcerts.com

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Annual Blessing of the Inlet Belin United Methodist Church, Murrells Inlet, 9 am-4 pm, 843-651-5099, blessingoftheinlet.com

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Waterway Art Association 26th Annual Exhibit & Sale Hickmans Crossroads Library, Calabash, N.C. For more info call 910-575-3737 or visit waterwayart.org.

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Gary Lowder and Smokin’ Hot Ocean Isle Concert Series 6:30-8 pm, Museum of Coastal Carolina parking lot, E. Second St., Ocean Isle Beach, N.C. For more info, call 910-619-1927


Advertiser Index

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Angelo’s Steak & Pasta.......................................................................................................27 Aunique Boutique..............................................................................................................10 B. Graham Interiors...........................................................................................................27 Barbara’s Fine Gifts............................................................................................................28 Brightwater............................................................................................................................ 7 Broadway Grand Prix........................................................................................................14 Brookgreen Gardens..........................................................................................................10 Bygone Beauties.................................................................................................................37 Callahan’s of Calabash......................................................................................................... 3 Carolina Car Care..............................................................................................................22 Carolina Gardens - Garden City.....................................................................................21 The Citizen’s Bank................................................................................................................ 5 CoCo Salon.........................................................................................................................28 Darden Jewelers..................................................................................................................15 Dr. Grabeman....................................................................................................................... 5 Dr. Sattele’s Rapid Weight Loss & Esthetic Centers...................................................44 Eleanor Pitts.......................................................................................................................... 5 Fringe....................................................................................................................................18 Good Deed Goods.............................................................................................................36 Grady’s Jewelers.................................................................................................................25 Habitat for Humanity.......................................................................................................... 9 Homespun Crafters Mall..................................................................................................27 Homewatch Caregivers.....................................................................................................14 Horry Electric Cooperative, Inc......................................................................................25 Hospice Care of SC...........................................................................................................11 Inlet Affairs..........................................................................................................................32 JDog Junk Removal & Hauling.......................................................................................39 The Joggling Board............................................................................................................... 5 Just Because IYQ................................................................................................................39 The Lakes at Litchfield......................................................................................................51

Litchfield Dance Arts Academy......................................................................................28 Long Bay Symphony.........................................................................................................32 Morningside of Georgetown...........................................................................................37 Myrtle Beach Estates.........................................................................................................40 Om Yoga..............................................................................................................................27 Oreck....................................................................................................................................28 Palmetto Ace.......................................................................................................................31 Papa John’s Pizza................................................................................................................37 Paperwhites.........................................................................................................................11 Pawleys Island Festival of Music & Art..........................................................................26 Pawleys Island Wear..........................................................................................................23 Perfect Fit.............................................................................................................................45 Piedmont Springs Interiors..............................................................................................29 Resourceful Realty.............................................................................................................29 Rose Arbor Fabrics............................................................................................................36 Sea Island Trading................................................................................................................ 2 Shades and Draperies........................................................................................................37 The Shops at Tweaked.......................................................................................................45 A Silver Shack.....................................................................................................................36 South Atlantic Bank...........................................................................................................52 Southern Comforts............................................................................................................40 Strand Security...................................................................................................................36 Surfside United Methodist Church................................................................................19 Taylor’s Boutique...............................................................................................................43 Taz.........................................................................................................................................29 Thrive at Prince Creek.......................................................................................................18 Two Sisters with Southern Charm.................................................................................39 Vandy Jewelers....................................................................................................................40 WEZV...................................................................................................................................50 Women in Philanthropy...................................................................................................33


Sasee Magazine - May 2017  

"Memorable People"