Wanderings

Since I wrote last I have done some South Carolina traveling north and south. We spent one afternoon tooling up 17 with Jim and Vicki with no real destination since we started too late to go to Brookgreen Garden. We stopped outside of McClellanville at Hampton Plantation just before a big thunderstorm. This is a state historical site because it is an old rice plantation and former home of several prominent lowcountry families -- Rutledges, Horrys and Pinckneys. Families of freed slaves continued to live there for several generations after emancipation. There is a huge oak tree there that was slated to be cut down, but as he was passing through, George Washington suggested they leave it, so it grows on. It hosts lots of resurrection fern that was furled out and lush the day we saw it. We got chased away by a hard and fast thunderstorm which was a daily occurance around that time.

Closer to Georgetown we took a left on a dirt toad and determined we were on the King's Highway -- the original route 61 that went between Charleston and Boston back in the day. We stopped at St. James Santee Parish -- established in 1706 at the request of the French Huguenots, it was the 2nd parish in this area for the Church of England with the first being St. Philips,in downtown Charleston. The present building was built in 1768. (Vicki was once a Charleston tour guide.) The interior is very plain with beautiful pine worn smooth to the touch. The cemetery had many very old graves -- one was for an "overseer" -- but also some rather recent ones. One from the 80s, I believe, was for a journalist in Charleston with the inscription: "Raise a toast for Jack" -- or something along those lines.

I spent a day in Florence at an engineering day camp for middle school students (don't ask) and in the following week visited another in Aiken. The group in Florence was in a chemistry lab, doing all kinds of acid/base experiments that get dramatic results -- color changes, smoke, popping noises. All 12 year olds think dry ice is pretty darn amazing. I stopped by the Farmers Market and bought some peaches before I got back on I95.

The group in Aiken was building Lego robots. Each group had a box of parts and a booklet with the assembly steps illustrated. It reminded me of putting together a bookcase, but smaller and harder. I think some of the kids were loving it and some were pretty stymied by it.

I can't believe I have lived here this long and not made it to Aiken yet. What a pretty place, once you finally get there. I think "the haves" in Aiken live the gracious southern life. The "have-nots", not so much. The land started to roll as soon as I drove into the county. I checked out the downtown area and a residential neighborhood right behind it where a lot of yard crews were sprucing things up for the weekend. I didn't really see anything "horsey" so I guess we have to go again.

Driving along, I enjoyed the changing landscape. In some places it looked so overgrown and wild I could just imagine Francis Marion himself slogging through the swamp. In other places, lantana, crype myrtle and palm trees were profuse and gave the view a more inhibited look. Houses were old and big, with wide porches and big magnolia trees in the yards. It was the the picture of southern rural summertime beauty.

We are determined to overcome our enertia and get out and see a bit more of what is within a day's drive of us. We want to go to Congaree, but it's gonna be pretty hot at the swamp these days. I think a drink on the beach at Edisto would fill the bill, today.

Mom's Garden Spot

This is the view my Mom has created for herself (and for her neighbors) at Glenaire, the retirement community in Cary where she moved over a year ago. The wooded area out her back door was one of the selling points on this particular apartment -- and to get it, she probably moved sooner after Dad's death than she would have liked.

But, as things turned out, we are glad she moved when she did. It is good to have that big transition behind her and the house sold easily just before the economy completely collapsed last year. She has really transformed this little glade from underbrush completely overgrowing the azaleas and camellias that were there -- to this pretty little area where the plants have room to breathe and flowers offer spots of color as well. She has always had a green thumb.

Spoleto on the Cheap

I don't have much this week.

Duncan and I did Spoleto on the cheap this year by volunteering to usher and we will definitely do that again -- as we have realized many locals do every year. You don't have much control over what you see, so your experience is a little random, but that's sort of the point of Spoleto, anyway.

We ushered for Don John -- very interesting staging, but overall, a bit dark and gritty for our tastes, and Good Cop Bad Cop, which was a lot of fun. We took tickets at the Finale at Middleton Plantation Sunday night and that turned out to be a really nice experience. People went all out with the picnic dinners -- some carted in dollies with tables, chairs, china, silver candelabras, table linens, flower arrangements and cooler after cooler of food. (We took a blanket and chicken from the Colonel.) The program included no introductions, no speeches, no thanking the sponsors, no previews of next year. Just beautiful music for more than an hour and spectacular fireworks.

Otherwise, I have a new "client" for writing services and several projects stretching into the summer. Today is Debbie and Wilson's 25th anniversary -- a well earned milestone for them. The plan was to be on a walking tour in France. I wish it were so.

"You are clear to Hamilton and Godspeed!"

For some reason, my fascination has been grabbed by the Charleston to Bermuda (C2B) race that started from the Charleston Harbor yesterday. Five sailboats along with the 140' schooner, The Spirit of South Carolina, are expected to arrive in Bermuda in five or six days -- so Wednesday or Thursday.

The Spirit of South Carolina, sailing in an exhibition category, is going to participate in a tall ship event in Bermuda next week, so it is just going along for show. This is the7th run of the bi-annual race, and apparently, participation is down because of the economy -- 20 - 30 boats is what they hope for. The idea is to highlight the historical connection between the two places and boost tourism.

The racing boats are: Nova, a 56' Swan (pictured in front of the Ravenel Bridge and in the other picture, to the right of The Spirit of SC), Cadence, a 51' Able Apogee 50 (to the left of The Spirit of SC), The Spray, a 63' Little Harbor, Tohidu, a 43' Beneteau from Charleston, and Grateful Red, a 40' Tartan C&C. Pictures are from the Post & Courier.

The coarse is 777 miles. After a day on the water, the C2B website shows Nova with a nice lead.

In other news. Spoleto is in town, Jay Leno did his last Tonight Show last night, Duncan and I will be celebrating our 3rd wedding anniversary on Wednesday night and they really need a stoplight at the intersection of Henry Tecklenburg and Savage.

Happy Birthday Bob!

I can remember laying on the floor in the dining room, in that miserable teenage way, listening to Rainy Day Women playing on the cabinet-style Hi-Fi, thinking that if I did not get out of that house, I would never discover my true self or. . . or anything. I was probably right.

Bob Dylan's music has carried me through almost everything since. I tip my hat to Bob on his birthday tomorrow. I may just go out and buy his newest CD to celebrate.

Driving West in 1970
Robert Bly

My dear children, do you remember the morning
When we climbed into the old Plymouth
And drove west straight toward the Pacific?

We were all the people there were.
We followed Dylan's songs all the way west.
It was Seventy; the war was over, almost;

And we were driving to the sea.
We had closed the farm, tucked in
The flap, and we were eating the honey

Of distance and the word "there."
Oh whee, we're gonna fly
Down into the easy chair. We sang that

Over and over. That's what the early
Seventies were like. We weren't afraid.
And a hole opened in the world.

We laughed at Las Vagas.
There was enough gaiety
For all of us, and ahead of us was

The ocean. Tomorrow's
The day my bride's gonna come.
And the war was over, almost.

Prairie Home Companion with Musical Guests, Polecat Creek

Tickets to Prairie Home Companion were one of Duncan's Christmas presents and the show in Durham, with musical guests Polecat Creek was last Saturday night. Except for the music, it turned out to be not the greatest show I've ever heard them do -- but it was a whole lot of fun to see. As they read through their scripts, they just let pages fall to the floor -- but they cleaned up each batch before the next sketch. And I've always liked Fred Newman, the sound effects man. Homegirls, Laurelyn and Kari were just great -- relaxed, in perfect tune and by all appearances, having a good time. They did four songs and sang along on several others.

After the show, Duncan, of course, wanted to prowl around and see what he could see, hoping to see Laurelyn, so we were lurking around the back entrance when Garrison Keillor came out. I fumbled around and pulled out the picture Duncan had insisted that we bring that was made of me with GK 3 years ago when he was at Guilford -- and he signed it and graciously showed us to Laurelyn's dressing room. She wasn't there, but I wrote her a note while Duncan prowled around backstage some more and snacked on leftover peanuts and grapes in the green room. That man can sniff out free food a mile away.
Julie Knight has the contract with Guilford College to photograph campus events, so when Garrison Keillor did a show there in the spring of 2006, I went along as her "key grip" for the evening -- which means that I carried her camera bag and sometimes held the lens she wasn't using. That night, the show was a long monologue with some music -- and the music was Polecat Creek.

After the performance, Julie was getting pictures in the dressing room and there was a Polecat Creek CD laying on the ironing board. I asked him how he liked them. He said he thought they were great and hoped he could get them on the show sometime.

Shortly afterwards, I sat down with Laurelyn to plan music for our upcoming wedding and I told her this story and she loved it. She kept saying: "No, he did not! What did he say?? Tell me that again! He said he wanted us on the show?!! Tell me the whole thing again. What did you say, what did he say? Get out!" We had a lot of fun with it that day, and I guess Saturday night's show was the culmination of that little story.

On the show they played: Kiss Me Over the Garden Gate and Cardinal Pair from Ordinary Seasons, Surry County's Burning off of Salt Sea Bound, and my all-time Polecat Creek favorite; Mama from Leaving Eden.

Mama, I know you can't stop the pain,
like no hard wish can stop the rain.
Mama, like you said, there's not much stays the same.
Better figure on another day of change,
We'll figure on another day of change. . .

Long rocking hugs of long gone yesterdays
when I thought I'd cry my life away.
Your long rocking hugs of long gone yesterdays,
Mama, they rock me through my troubles today.

Our Family's Experience with Story Corps

Somehow, Debbie made a connection with someone who works for StoryCorps and one thing led to another and Debbie got an appointment on the day after Mom's 81st birthday with the project in Asheville. The plan evolved for Uncle Bill to go too, and for them to talk about whatever they wanted to.

Debbie said they got to her house in Black Mountain and said "What will we talk about?" and then they didn't stop talking for the rest of the weekend. From all accounts, it was a golden weekend with lots of time for Mom and Uncle Bill to sit on the porch, looking out over the mountains, and remember the course of their long, good lives and tell their stories – some very familiar and some new. Sometimes, same story, two versions – you know how that goes :-)

The only thing missing was Uncle Vic, the oldest of these 3 siblings. He is almost 91 and lives in Chapel Hill. Between the three of them, they have a lot of life experience and memories are in good working order -- so story telling sessions can be quite lively.

For the actual taping, Debbie interviewed Mom and Uncle Bill and guided their conversation from memories of growing up on a depression-era, Piedmont tobacco farm before electricity and running water (Uncle Bill said “Sure we had running water – you took a bucket to the spring, filled it with water and then you’d run back to the house with it!”) to their memories of their own parents, to their favorite foods and least favorite chores when they were young.

They talked about WWII where Uncle Bill ended up as a prisoner of war in Germany. My mother was a teenager at home where scant news traveled slowly and a whole rural community sweated it out with them not knowing his fate and the whole community celebrated with them when they got word of his safety and release.

Mom and Uncle Bill spoke briefly of their marriages and of their feelings of love and appreciation for each other. At the very end, you hear Debbie thank them both for talking with her and she tells them she loves them. –It's Priceless.

On Mother’s Day, Mom and Duncan and I went to Chapel Hill and gathered with the Uncles, one remaining aunt, all the cousins and their children – to listen together and receive this final gift that Debbie instigated and orchestrated. It was good to be together to share our sadness over losing her, and at the very same time to celebrate our family’s story of strength, surviving and thriving, and always at the very end, loving each other.

This picture was taken last summer at Uncle Vic's 90th Birthday party. He's on the left, then Mom and Uncle Bill. Standing behind are the cousins: Mark Bowles, Me, Jo Ann Wilson, Debbie, and Marie Schmitt.