It's That Smooth, Southern Charm

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I'm sure a lot of people think the word "charming" is overused in describing Charleson, but I cannot come up with a more approriate descriptor. I'm no world traveler, but Charleston is, without a doubt, the most charming city I've ever visited. It is a law there that no building over 80 years old, within the original township boundaries, can be structurally changed. They can be modernized and upgraded, but walls, fireplaces, staircases, etc., must remain as they were originally built. I think this is a wonderful law. It forces the recycling of old buildings, rather than just tearing them down to be replaced by concrete, glass, and steel. Even the streets, as confusing as they are, must remain exactly as they were originally laid out. The result is beautiful beyond words. And, as an “older structure” myself, I couldn’t help but feel a kinship in realizing age has its own aesthetics.

I treated myself to a chauffeured car from the airport to the hotel. The driver was southern hospitality at its best, pointing out landmarks and providing little known historic facts, such as information about the 1886 Charleston earthquake, a 7.3 magnitude, believed to have been caused by faults created from the break-up of Pangaea. There is still evidence of the damage, which extended into Alabama, Kentucky and Virginia and was felt as far away as Boston, Cuba, Chicago, and New Orleans.

When in downtown Charleston, even the smell of the city is reminiscent of 100 years ago... jasmine, horses, magnolia, food cooking, the sea air... history you can smell. I've never experienced that before. The first evening, I enjoyed a pure southern dinner at 82 Queen, a very upscale restaurant near my hotel. She-crab soup, heirloom tomatoes that tasted fresh from the vine, stewed tomatoes and okra, red beans and rice, and roasted chicken, seasoned with herbs and spices I couldn't identify, but wonderful on the palate.

Next morning, first stop is the market. Wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with New York City, one of the local vendors asked me if I was from New York. “No,” I told him, “Kansas City, but don’t you think it makes me look like a world traveler?” He just smiled and, I guess, seeing through my guise, asked if this was my first visit to Charleston. Yes, I was that obvious. After visiting the market to purchase souvenirs (whooo, the prices!!! I spent way too much money), I walked through Anson, one of Charleston's boroughs. The streets are lined with beautiful old homes where immaculate gardens are visible through wrought-iron fences and, near the gates, historical plaques are displayed, detailing the age of the building and its original builder.

A quick water-taxi ride took me to the USS Yorktown with its WWII vintage aircraft and the Apollo 8 space capsule. I could not believe how small the capsule was... to think three men trusted it to bring them safely from space! There is a Medal of Honor Museum on the carrier, with the names of recipients going all the way back to the Civil War. The ship itself was a huge community with a bakery, clinic and surgical hospital, pharmacy, tailor shop, laundry, and FOUR dental clinics (dental health must be a problem at sea). The bunks, hanging from the ceiling, were scrawled with poignant messages from the sailors who slept there... "Janie, I miss you," "MOM" in a heart, "Keep all who sleep here safe, Dear Lord." But, the highlight of the tour was walking through the USS Clagamore, a WWII submarine. Forget what is seen in the movies! Tremendously cramped spaces, so small there was no way to move through the corridors without bumping into someone. Our guide, who served on the sub, said it had as many as 90 men on it when in service. Where in the world did they put them all? For enlisted men, there was no place to sit, except on a bunk, the one toilet, or at mess. The purser's office was the size of a closet, the captain's quarters maybe a walk-in closet.

Dinner that evening was at A.W. Schucks, beginning with an appetizer of fried green tomatoes, buffalo shrimp (much better than wings!), and shrimp stuffed with crabmeat, wrapped in bacon and deep fried. The entrée of grilled shrimp and asparagus with a dill sauce was complemented by a sangria made with peach brandy, pineapple juice, and red wine — I want the recipe!!

On the approach to Ft. Sumter by boat, it's difficult to understand why, other than its strategic location, this tiny fort was so crucial to both sides of the Civil War. It is only upon landing that I learned that what I see of the battlement walls is only 1/3 of the original structure. The Union Army completely demolished the fort and, when I see the actual weaponry used, it's easy to see how — 18-inch cannonballs fired from a mile away. Built to defend against foreign forces invading from the sea, it was vulnerable from the mainland with its powder room on that side. It was excavated and resurrected for the Spanish American War. What I was surprised to learn is that in the first battle of the Civil War, not a single person was killed.

The dolphin tour was given by a man who resides in, and has dedicated his life to protecting, the marshlands. He knew every waterway, every bird and fish. Along the way, he pointed out an old shipwreck, history unknown, but which was probably the ship of a rumrunner, which were prevalent in the area in bygone years. My guide dropped me off at Morris Island where I collected shells and saw the lighthouse from a short distance. The erosion of the land has caused it to become unusable, and there are efforts being made to save it. Morris Island is the site of the Civil War battle depicted in the movie, "Glory," and my guide told me human remains are still sometimes found. I didn't find any, thank God, but did find some very nice shells and sand dollars and saw a beautiful jellyfish, ironically named a cannonball, in the shallow waters. We found dolphin on the return to the landing. Their eyes are like that of a faithful dog... interested, eager to interact.

My only disappointment was the tour of Old City Jail, which is supposed to be haunted. The building is certainly spooky looking and, when the guide told us that it had no modernization throughout its use until 1939 when the government forced its closure, I realized that it would not be a good place to find yourself. It was built and used for punishment, pure and simple. No windows, only bars that let in all types of weather. No toilets, only a bucket. No running water, at all. No light at night, given that streetlights would not have been installed outside. I found it more gruesome than scary — so hellish that the guide told us of prisoners actually beating their heads against the walls to escape by death. I would think anyone who managed to be released, still sane after incarceration, would leave Charleston as quickly as possible. It was hard to reconcile such brutality in a city so beautiful and charming.

The Old Exchange, the oldest building in Charleston, started as an outpost building in 1618 and was completed in 1780. It was originally built to house goods coming into port. All the guides were dressed in period clothing, and on alternate days, they tell the story of the building from the American and British viewpoints. I happened to luck into a day when it was from the American one. I stood in the room, on the anniversary of the day, that George Washington danced at a ball held in his honor after Charleston ratified the Constitution of the United States, the 7th state to do so. Then, when the British regained Charleston, it served as a dungeon for "traitors of the Crown." Stede Bonnet, a cohort of the pirate Blackbeard, was kept there before being hanged at the Battery. At the outbreak of the Revolutionary War, Charleston had its own "Tea Party," and made it one better than the "Boston Tea Party." They stole the tea, but didn't dump it into the ocean. They stored it and then sold it back to the British occupation forces. Interestingly, there was an English family on the tour with me. At one point, in his historical recitation, the guide said, "the Revolutionary War," to which the tourist father said, in a low voice to his son, "The colonial rebellion." Extremely interesting tour and a "must-see" for anyone visiting Charleston.

Lunch that day was at Poogan's Porch and was the best meal I had in Charleston — pan-fried (or chicken-fried, as I was taught) steak that would make you want to stand up and slap your mama, fresh green beans seasoned in lemon butter, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a pecan pie to die for!! I had to put down my fork between bites so I could savor the meal to its fullest.

Last Charleston adventure was a sail on the Schooner Pride where I was allowed to help "man the sails." I can see why people enjoy sailing… such fun, with the captain yelling, "Prepare to jibe," and the crew answering, feeling the sun on your face, the wind in your hair, and the gentle swells of the ocean beneath the boat. It’s exciting and relaxing, at the same time. We sailed near Pinkney Castle, located on a small peninsula, in ruins now and a bird sanctuary. On the return to port, the mates raised the Jolly Roger and fired a mock cannon at The Customs House.

Leaving was bittersweet. I was missing home, but Charleston is absolutely enchanting. There is no doubt it deserves being named a favorite travel destination.

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Photos

Charleston, S.C.
One of the many churches.

Architectural Integrity
The staircase had to remain although the tower is structually damaged.

The Provost
Enactment of the imprisonment of the pirate Stede Bonnet.

The Old Exchange
Our American "bluecoat" guide posing with a "redcoat" manniquin.

The Old Exchange
In the room where a ball for George Washington was held.

The Schooner Pride
Me manning the sails.