Charleston

On Saturday, I returned home from a wonderful trip to Charleston, South Carolina, having tagged along with my wife Lynda, who had to go there for a fairly swank insurance conference at the Doubletree Inn and Suites in downtown Charleston.  (The photo above is St. Philip's Church at 142 Church Street, taken by me with my junky old Verizon LG phone camera. This church is located only a few blocks south of the Doubletree).

We flew in from Flint on Wednesday, October 12 and arrived in Charleston in the late afternoon.  My wife registered for her conference at the hotel and then attended an informal reception.  I called my old grad school classmate/friend/native Charlestonian Rick R. to see if he was still interested in getting together at some point during our stay.  I hadn't seen Rick since I finished Eastern Michigan University's historic preservation program in '04, but through the miracle of social media we had reconnected through Facebook and had gotten to know each other better there than we had in our time at school.

As far back as a few years ago, Rick had said that he'd love to have us come down to Charleston, and when in the spring of this year it looked like we'd definitely be coming down for Lynda's conference, Rick had said to definitely call him when we arrived.  After playing text message tag for awhile, Rick and I hooked up on Thursday evening for beers at a burger/pizza/sports bar joint called the Mellow Mushroom on King Street.  The next night, Rick and his wife graciously took Lynda and I out to eat at a pretty good seafood restaurant in nearby Mt. Pleasant called RB's, where I had the shrimp and grits.

The rest of my time was spent wandering around while Lynda was in her conference.  On Thursday morning, I took the ferry to Fort Sumter out in Charleston Harbor.  It was a lazy, relaxing trip out there.  I was amazed to learn just how far the fort is from the city of Charleston.  The park ranger, an extremely energetic and engaging young guy named Brent Everitt (I was impressed with his presentation and made sure to catch his name tag) went to great pains to make sure we all understood that the first shots of the Civil War were NOT fired from the Battery at Charleston, but at Fort Johnson.  Charleston is about 3 1/2 miles northwest of Fort Sumter, while Fort Johnston was about one mile due west.  1860s technology prevented a shot from Charleston being possible, but apparently some tour guides in Charleston perpetuate this myth.

Another thing I always seem to notice about historic sites I visit is that they end up being far smaller than I envisioned them to be.  I felt that way about the White House, Historic Jamestown, and certainly Fort Sumter.  Let me tell you, I sure as heck would not have wanted to be stationed at Fort Sumter: it's a tiny and remote location and with it's lack of shade must have been oppressively hot in the summer and probably not much better in winter.

When I returned from Fort Sumter, I made my way to King Street and felt completely out-of-place among all the high-end boutiques and ultra chic and expensive clothing stores.  My destination was Blue Bicycle Books, the main used book shop in Charleston.  I make a point of visiting whatever local bookshops I can find whenever I'm on vacation.  Blue Bicycle was fun to browse, though I found their prices a little high and didn't buy anything.  The store is long and narrow with several small rooms dedicated to a particular type of book ("history room", "childrens room", etc.).  Used bookshops always have their own peculiar layout and vibe, and Blue Bicycle is no exception.

Well, I don't want to bore everyone with a blow-by-blow recap of my entire stay in Charleston, but Lynda and I managed to pack in quite a bit in the short time we were there.  I bought a sweetgrass wreath from a friendly weaver (of the traditional Gulla sweetgrass style) named Mildred who had her works set up outside a church on Meeting Street.  Lynda and I wandered through the Battery and up East Bay south of Broad and saw the amazing houses there.  Did I mention that the architecture of Charleston is nothing short of incredible?  The city breathes history and tradition in a way that few other places in America even come close.

My real education in the culture and history of Charleston came from Rick, who (as I mentioned) is a native Charlestonian and has his own building contracting business.  Rick is committed to historic preservation, and drove me around town on Friday and show me some of his current projects, located on the northwest side of town near The Citadel.  Rick and his wife also live in this area, in a freedman's cottage that they have been restoring.  Rick told me that this part of Charleston is notable for the number of freedman's cottages, which are small one-level vernacular houses that were built in the late 19th century for newly freed slaves.  Check out this link for more information about freedman's cottages:

http://www.historiccharleston.org/preservation/why_freedman.html


I could go on even further about Charleston, and I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but I need to cut it short.  It was a wonderful adventure and I would gladly return in a heartbeat.