The Bluffton Breeze January 2014

1 The Bluffton Breeze January 2014

J A N U A R Y 2 0 1 4

A S p e c i a l E d i t i o n t o C e l e b r a t e t h e B r e e z e

At the heart of Bluffton since 2003

2 www.blufftonbreeze.com

The magazine of BlufftonBluffton BreezeThe

The Bluffton Breeze Magazine is published by The Bluffton Breeze LLC. All rights are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or stored for retrieval by any means without permission from the Publisher. The Bluffton Breeze Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited materials and the publisher ac-cepts no responsibility for the contents or accuracy of claimes in any advertisement in any issue. The Bluffton Breeze Magazine is not responsible or liable for any errors, omissions, or changes in information. The opinion of contributing writers do not nec-essarily reflect the opinion of the magazine and its Publisher. All published photos and copy provided by writers and artists become the property of the Bluffton Breeze Magazine Copyright.

FOUNDERDonna Huffman

PUBLISHEREric Einhorn

[email protected]

EDITORRandolph Stewart

[email protected]

SALES DIRECTORBonnie Stewart

[email protected] 505-0945

COVER PHOTOChris Hefner

ART DIRECTORJane Skager

PRINTERAccurate Lithography

CORPORATE OFFICE12 Johnston Way, Suite 300

P.O. Box 472, Bluffton, SC 29910843.757.8877

CONTRIBUTING WRITERSGene Cashman III, Jevon Daly,

Joel Zuckerman, Michele Roldan-Shaw, Amber Kuehn, Tamela Maxim, Barbara

O’Connor, Joan E. Morris, Oscar Frazier, Merry Lee Jones, Grahm Bullock,

Betsey Thayer, Joseph Ovileros Pinkney, Edward Mixon, Bill Hodgins, Stumblin’ Jimmy Watermellon, Jeanie Bunton, Jeff Fulgham,

Art Cornell, J. Mitchell Brown,Carolyn Smith, Charlie Wetmore, Karen Pacifico,

Margret Heyward, Fran Marscher, Don and Babbie Guscio, Jamie and Lori Guscio,

Connie Rockhill, Gloria Underwood, PHD, Alican White, William Behand, Josh Luman,

Steve and Ann Anthony, Bill and Bonnie Nely, Dan Woodard, Mary Syrett,, Brian Conte,

Jo Wee, Dot Gnann, Laura Baily, Josh Martin, Robert Jones, Amous Hummell, Jay Frazier,

Jim Palmerand a special thanks to

Low Country Civil War Round Table, Trust for Public Land, Low Country Questers, Ducks Un-limited, Juneto Society, Daughters of the Ameri-

can Revolution

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERSEd Funk, Eric Horan, Margaret Palmer, Art Cornell, Chris Hefter, Kathy Gibbon,

Ali Jansen


J A N U A R Y 2 0 1 4

A S p e c i a l E d i t i o n t o C e l e b r a t e t h e B r e e z e

At the heart of Bluffton since 2003

We chose the rose for symbolism. So beloved by so many. Beautiful in many ways.

Donna Huffman is the rose.


ABOUT THIS ISSUE January 2014, volume 12, no.1

A celebratory issueIt’s been 12 years since the Bluffton Breeze was founded. So why a retrospective? There is no neat 0 or even a 5 in the number of years. And we’ve a

long way to get to 21.

The main reason is Donna Huffman, our founder, has handed over the reins of the magazine and we want to celebrate the amazing foundation she has given us. Thankfully, her presence and influence lives on, as does her vision “to provide the Bluff-ton Community with a high quality magazine that represents a reverence for the town while paying tribute its people, events, history and businesses.”

The other reason is that the unique values of Bluff-ton captured in the Breeze are enduring. Bluffton is all about history, and history never gets old. Bluff-ton represents a miracle of nature, and nature is timeless (or at least we’re working really hard to keep it that way). The Breeze has always revered the town’s spirit of creativity and eccentricity – and great writing and art lives forever. And, on a prac-tical note, the Breeze of past years has provided helpful information about life, and as we look back, this guidance seems surprisingly current.

The Breeze does not cover everyday news, social or political commentary (that’s why newspapers and the internet so fundamental to life.) Equally, we are

not designed to be a magazine that people “skim through. In delivering our vision we are committed to providing stories and features that have insight, depth, curiosity – and yes, a quirky sense of humor that suits the town we love. Our writers have deep feelings about the environment. They share their expertise on subjects of all types and they do it with passion. Through Donna’s example, we will always share simple inspirations that make people stop, think and appreciate the world we live in.

The Breeze was at the heart of the Bluffton com-munity when it spanned a small quirky, and very eccentric place. The town has grown and has add-ed new dimensions, and we will explore these in our magazine. But we will never forget that it is Old Bluffton that gives the expanded community a source of pride, identity and a center of gravity.

To our writers and contributors over the years we say a huge thank you and trust you will take equal pride in the journey of the Breeze.

To newcomers, we hope this celebratory edition of the Breeze provides an enjoyable “primer” on some of Bluffton’s charm and core values. And for those who know Bluffton well, we hope a few of these arti-cles bring a sentimental smile to your face!

Eric J. Einhorn Randolph Stewart

Publisher Editor


Since its in-ception in 2003 the Bluffton Breeze Maga-zine has been a hallmark of local pride. In-stantly recog-nizable by its gorgeous color photography—each cover is a lustrous full-bleed image, uncluttered by text and come-

ons—the Breeze showcases everything that makes this area special. The eye-candy ap-peal is no accident: founder Donna Hoffman is a former professional photographer driven by a deep love for Bluffton and the Lowcountry. Over the years she has been a member of the Bluffton/Hilton Head Chamber of Commerce, the Old Town Merchant’s Society and the Bluff-ton Rotary, where she served as PR director for 8 years and earned the prestigious Paul Harris Fellowship. She has been on the May River The-ater board of directors, and acted as a trustee for the Historical Preservation Society, where she also served as president for three years. Yet she says the greatest thing she’s done in Bluffton was volunteer as a Rotary Reader, working with a child on literacy skills from kin-dergarten through the 5th grade. “That was the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done,” she says. For Donna the Bluffton Breeze was not merely

a business, or even just a personal passion—it was first and foremost a way to serve others. Throughout her career as owner and editor of the Breeze, Donna approached her work with energy, dedication and a desire to help peo-ple right here in her own community. An arti-cle might educate, inspire, amuse or comfort; it might help promote a start-up business. People who contributed to the Breeze found outlet for their voices and visions; they were able to share stories of their lives with friends and neighbors. Some even bolstered their professional portfo-lios. Donna always made a point to focus on the positive—though never at the expense of reality—deliberately avoiding doom-and-gloom reporting or topics that serve only to divide. In a day and age when journalism is becoming evermore a game of competition and market-ing, Donna stayed true to the grassroots ide-al of communication with a cooperative spirit. Her efforts were always infused with altruism. As she has recently stepped down as edi-tor-in-chief—though she remains very much committed to the Breeze, and her spirit lives on its pages—we have decided to honor her by setting down a few personal thoughts and recollections. Present at the interview was her devoted husband Ted Huffman—town council-man, pitmaster of the Bluffton Barbeque, and of course a loyal supporter of the magazine.

Donna: I started out years ago in photography, taking classes at Memphis State. It was just a hob-by, and my camera became like a purse: when-ever I got ready to go out I’d automatically grab it. Ted: She became an expert in her field in print-

DONNA HUFFMANHEART & SOUL OF THE BREEZE

By Michele Roldán-Shaw


ing. It was the technical aspect she cottoned to, and being in the dark room wasn’t for everyone. Donna: Later I moved to Key West, still with camera in hand. I had every job you can think of in Key West! I worked for profes-sional photographers, for a 1-hour lab….Ted: A hole in the wall about half the size of our kitchen; the door wouldn’t even open all the way. It was right across the street from Mel Fisher [famous treasure hunter] and Donna was his go-to gal. We have incredible pictures of gold bars, contraband emeralds, all kinda stuff. Donna: My Key West chapter was a great time—my entire life changed there. That’s where I met Ted. Af-ter we moved to Hilton Head I was working for Skip Meachen, one of the best photographers in this area, plus I was doing my own thing as well. Ted cleaned out the garage so I could have my own studio; I did a book of black & white photographs of the Lowcountry; and Lord knows I had a booth at every festival that was ever out there, selling prints. My timing in this life—or God’s tim-ing for me—has been wonderful because I’ve been able to be part of some of the best eras. And we haven’t even gotten to the Breeze yet.Ted: But all of these things are connecting dots to the Breeze. There were some town elders, as it were, who told Donna it would never work—tried, failed, forget it. And they were so wrong. Donna: People have always wanted to pen something about Bluffton so everyone would know what was going on. Graham Bullock did the Bluffton Eccentric [Bluffton’s first newspa-per] and after he died his wife was cleaning out

the garage when she found a stack of old news-letters that Andrew Peeples wrote in the 1930’s.

[Ted digs these up and reads excerpts: an ed-itorial urging people to keep their yards and houses up so that visitors arriving via the new “hard-surface road” would be impressed; a proposal to build a public pavilion on the Cal-houn Street wharf with the labor of delinquent taxpayers (which did actually happen, Ted and

Donna affirm, but later a different delinquent burnt it down); a humor-ous news brief about the high-speed chase of an escaped hog, pur-sued with the help of a yellow tick hound; an announcement of the “complete success” of a Negro Spiritual Con-cert at the Campbell Church, which was en-joyed by “society folk” from Charleston and Savannah; and an ad for a story contest with the grand prize of $1.]

Donna: The reason I started the Breeze was because one day I was reading the Island Pack-et’s little column about Bluffton, and it would say things like, “Mary

Smith’s daughter came to visit for a long week-end; they had a picnic on Church of the Cross’ lawn, ate a bunch of oysters and it was great.” And I thought really, that’s all they’re going to give us? Bluffton deserves more than just the Packet’s crumbs. Then I said to myself, “The only thing people really want, the only thing that’s going to grab their attention, is pretty pictures.”Ted: And as far as pretty pictures of Bluff-ton, she had a damn passel of ’em.Donna: Anybody that knows anything about Bluffton knows that there has always been the


history, and I’m talking about the present history. When you look at Bluffton you have to acknowl-edge the old guard: the Cashmans, the Crapps, the Heywards—people who’ve got their names chiseled into Bluffton five inches deep. They were the heartbeat. But there was all this new expansion going on, and to be honest with you the Old Bluffton people weren’t happy about it. So I wanted to find a way to bring everybody together. I needed to make something that was beautiful enough for people to put on their cof-fee tables. The photography had to be exquisite; the quality of the paper and everything had to be something people would be proud of. I wanted everyone to love it so that it would bridge that gap. Like I always said, every month the heav-ens just opened up and gave me the Breeze.Ted: You wouldn’t believe how many times we’d hear a knock on that screen door and someone’d say, “Look what I got for ya!”

[Donna proceeds to give three anecdotes about the Breeze. In the first, she was wrack-ing her brain for something to put in the May issue—which she always tried to tie into Moth-er’s Day—when out of the blue she got an email from a fellow asking if she’d be willing to run something he wrote. His mother was an avid turkey hunter from a well-known local family, and the occasion of her finally shooting her first bird was momentous enough that the son wrote a story about it—he even supplied a great picture. The second incident concerned a little old woman who took Donna’s hand at a party, thanked her profusely for doing the Breeze, and said she loved all the quotes scat-tered throughout the magazine. One in particu-lar impressed her so much that she decided to use it on her headstone—she’s since passed away, and you can go down to the cemetery and see the quote there. The third story Don-na told was of another elderly woman who fell down in the bathroom of her assisted living home, and for some reason was unable to buzz for help. But she could reach a telephone and an issue of the Breeze, which she opened to a real estate ad showing the picture of a gen-tleman whose faced appeared so kindly that

she felt certain he would come to her aid—she called the number and sure enough he did.]

Donna: The greatest thing about the Bluffton Breeze, to me, is that it’s not like any other mag-azine. It’s almost like a library of Bluffton. You have history, environment, folk, gardens, arts, everything. I started the magazine for the peo-ple, nothing but the people, so help me God. That’s the essence. If you hadn’t read about Old Hodge, you wouldn’t know he had a horse called what’s-his-name that he rode up and down the May River. How would you know there was a nanny goat wedding at Scotts Meats? What do you even call this stuff? I didn’t want life to just roll on and everybody to forget about these characters. They’re way too eccentric, all the way from Harry Cram to Amos Hummell. And if I haven’t said this a thousand times, say it for me once: I am so grateful to all the people who have helped me, who have con-tributed to the Breeze, who have supported me and understood that this is a labor of love. Ted: And she’s never said no on the other side of that either. People dissed Donna from day one for whatever reason; blood-oaths were taken and we weren’t invited to that party. The people who did support her did it wholeheartedly, and God love them for it. But the people who didn’t sup-port her, she supported them a thousand times and they don’t even know it! She’s done more for this little town than anyone will ever know.

All our dreams can come true - if we have the courage to pursue them. - Walt Disney


Breeze Contents January 2014 volume 12, no.1

4 Heart and Soul of the Breeze 10 History Dear Mama, Dear Papa How the name All Joy Began

16 The Tide Chart

18 Environment Essence d’ Estuary Ben Turner: Bluffton Naturalist

28 Bluffton Bulletin Board

30 Over The Bridges

32 Bluffton Stories Afternoon Thunderstorms The Bluffton Test Whats Your Bluffton Sign Stumblin’ Jimmy Watermellon Bluffton Eccentric State of Mind Profile of Courage

32 Restaurant Guide

48 Bluffton Arts In The Wind What Color is Friendship From the “Hills” of the Low Country Gardening Freedom


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NOVEMBER 7 Event The Society's lecture series features Kim Poovey, a local

author and storyteller. Her lecture will be on clothing and textiles during the Civil War. 11am at the Heyward House

We’re also Bluffton’s Information CenterGet walking tour maps and invitations to fun places

Sign up for personal guided toursOur friendly staff knows Bluffton inside out!

A visit to the Heyward House reveals the mystery of Bluffton.You’ll find out why the May River is so much more than a beautiful waterway.

Why Bluffton’s breezes were an attraction to the rich and famous.Why decisions made in Bluffton changed the USA forever.

Get to know Bluffton through its character. And the characters that built it.To understand Bluffton you need to get a sense of its rich history.

The Heyward House makes it fascinating and easThe Heyward House makes it fascinating and easy.

Find out how history shaped Bluffton.And how Bluffton shaped history!

The Bluffton Historical Preservation Society70 Boundary Street, POBox 742 Bluffton SC 29910

For more information call 1 843 757 6293Or visit our website at www.heywardhouse.org

D ID YOU KNOW?

Our Bluffton history is our soul.It gives our town its character.

It changed the course of America.It’s the reason to protect the town

of Old Bluffton as we grow.


NOVEMBER 7 Event The Society's lecture series features Kim Poovey, a local

author and storyteller. Her lecture will be on clothing and textiles during the Civil War. 11am at the Heyward House

We’re also Bluffton’s Information CenterGet walking tour maps and invitations to fun places

Sign up for personal guided toursOur friendly staff knows Bluffton inside out!

A visit to the Heyward House reveals the mystery of Bluffton.You’ll find out why the May River is so much more than a beautiful waterway.

Why Bluffton’s breezes were an attraction to the rich and famous.Why decisions made in Bluffton changed the USA forever.

Get to know Bluffton through its character. And the characters that built it.To understand Bluffton you need to get a sense of its rich history.

The Heyward House makes it fascinating and easThe Heyward House makes it fascinating and easy.

Find out how history shaped Bluffton.And how Bluffton shaped history!

The Bluffton Historical Preservation Society70 Boundary Street, POBox 742 Bluffton SC 29910

For more information call 1 843 757 6293Or visit our website at www.heywardhouse.org

D ID YOU KNOW?BLUFFTON NEWS LETTER

FEBRUARY 12, 1932

It is understood from a reliable source that negotiations are under way for the installation of a public telephone in Bluffton. It is hoped that this plan will go through in the near future. Now that the new highway to Savannah and Hardeeville is open and tourists and visitors are coming to see us at increased rates daily there is nothing that we need more tha a telephone.

In the near future we hope to have electric lights and running water. We have been ex-communicated, in the dark and pumping long enough.


Breeze H i s t o r y

My Dear Mama, My Dear Papa

ByCorporal Joseph Oliveros Pinckney

A BLUFFTON BOY ON ACTIVE SERVICEWITH THE AMERICA EXPEDITIONARY FORCEMARCH 12, 1919

When our mother, Annie May Pinckney died in 1988, we found in her personal effects some letters that our father, Joseph Oliveros Pinckney, had written during the World War I to his parents. These letters tell the story of Daddy’s wartime experience, panning the time of his departure from America on July 31st, 1918 until his arrival in Newport News Va. On June 14th 1919.

My Dear Papa, I have been over here almost eight months, and all the while I have wanted to write and tell you all about my trip. I don’t believe I will be able to give you more than half at the most, for I have seen and heard so much that I haven’t been able to take in more than one tenth. Also, I have to write as to get by the censorship.

July 31st was my last day to view the beautiful shore of our beloved America. I hated to leave it, so I watched un-til the sun set and left me standing in the darkness with a few of my best pals, who were there for the same reason.

Well, we decided we had seen all there was to see, so we went back to where we had picked out to sleep (which was a spot on the deck) and unrolled our packs. There were a lot of swinging hammocks, but we decided the floor was best, for we had lots of room. We put our blankets down, then got between them and began talking about France and Norman’s land. We said a whole lot, but after awhile, we found we didn’t know but very little about what we were talking, but anyway it helped to pass the time while we were waiting for a sleepy mood to come upon us. When we awoke next morning, we rolled out to see how things looked, but there was nothing to be seen. We could look as far as eyes could see, but the ocean and the sky seem to come together to keep us from seeing far enough. We were on the water 12 days. After we were out about 2 days, we turned and sailed North-east for several days. We saw sever-al whales which were a curiosity for most of us. We went far enough for us to have put on our overcoats and would put on another if we had one. We must have been a ways up, for this was the first of August.

The whole trip was a pleasant one considering the number on board, and the way we were traveling. We had one of the best ships afloat, the Empress of Asia, a British ship and the fourth largest transport.

On 11 August we landed in Liverpool, England. Here is where we had to shoulder our packs and hike to the train. We were all loaded and ready to leave in about 2 hours. Left there just before night, had about 2 hours to view the country while passing be-fore dark came on. I saw the most beautiful coun-try there that I have seen since I have been over.

After riding all night, we arrived at Camp Roonsey, then we had to hike about 3 miles to camp. Stayed there as well as I can remember, 3 days. While there we vis-ited Lord Ashley’s Estate. One of the most beautiful sites I have seen, over three thousand acres fenced. On 14 August we took a 12 mile hike to Southampton, leaving that evening, crossing the English Channel on a U.S. boat, the Yale. Debarked the next day about 2 p.m. at La Haure, France. We hiked to a nearby camp and rested for the night but had our first experience with an air-raid before morning. We were called out and believe


me we got our shoes on in quick time and made the trenches. The raid was some distance off, but we could see the flashes and hear the explosions just as though they were right on us. After being in the trench-es for 2 hours it was given all clear and we attempted to sleep.Next day we had to hike three miles with full packs to the trains where we loaded in boxcars and rode 2 nights and a day arriving at Lanlay, France. We slept in tents in a nearby field. Next day we are up ear-ly, (Sunday) rolled our packs and hiked to Commisey, a small nearby town where we trained for 4 weeks.

15 September we left Commissey hiking again, Sunday again. We made 10 miles and to another village where we spent the night. On and on like this until we board-ed a train in cattle cars sleeping very little. Arrived at Brueyers near midnight. Here is where the Bash made his raid on our train. We were hiking and dodging all night as where he raided us is where we derailed. Af-ter hiking all night we came to a nice barn of hay for about 3 days we all took a sleep for we hadn’t in 2 or 3 days. I don’t believe any of us will ever forget that night of the raid. We started hiking for the front, staying in towns in the day and hiking at night. Almost every one of those towns was torn to pieces by German artillery.

27 Sept. we hiked to the front where we relieved a French division. This was in the Varpes Mountains, a very quiet front. I believe this was just to tame the fel-lows to these big guns, for the Germans would send over their big shells for a while, then ours would give them a taste of their own medicine. When the big shells started you should see us beating it for the dug-outs. Just like rats when fire is after them. But just as soon as they stopped we were out ready to see if they were going to visit us with their rifles and bayonet, but they never came, much to our pleasure. I did mostly observation work and this may be the easiest of all, but there is nothing easy in any of it. We were here for 21 days dodging shells and machine gun and ri-fle fire and grenades and everything used in warfare.

18 October we relieved a Polish division, so we moved out that night. Hiked until we stopped next morning be-fore light. Next day we made a small town named Von-recourt. Rested for 10 days and drilled every day. First of Nov. we made town of Chatel, where we boarded another train, rode all day and detrained that night and hiked for another front. Came to a little village that had been shot to pieces a few months previous. Here we slept wherever we could, I slept on a pile of stones, a poor place but it was all I could get. Next morning we had some coffee and hard-tack for breakfast and I don’t believe we had any dinner for we were hiking this time of every day. Here is where I saw 63 airoplanes.

They came over us like a bunch of birds. I knew right then we were going where fighting was being done. 5 Nov. we reached Camp Reunes near the Verun and Metz front, The Meuse Sector. Here we rested 4 days when on the ninth, just before day we were ordered to support the trenches, arriving that night under fire. During that time I had to go on patrol with the 324th Inf. This was the first time I went over the top. I was able to see what we were up against. That night I was cold and tired but had a good supper. The trenches were muddy and no place to sit or stand on. We support-ed trenches for days and when night came we would crawl out and fix up under a hill to get out of the mud. After we got out we saw we were just as safe as the trenches so we unrolled our packs, put our tents down first and a blanket on that, then we got in and covered with them. Did a little sleeping, but only a little for it was cold and the big guns just rolling all the while.

Officers came around and told us to be ready to move up to the front trenches at five. So when five came we were all ready. But gee, I did hate it for I was out there the day before and saw what we were up against. We went out over the top when the time came and how things went I can hardly say, but we were giv-ing them a whole lot to do, but in the same time they were entertaining us very unpleasantly. If I live to be a thousand years, I will never forget the tenth and elev-enth of November. One of the nicest things I heard in my life was when the Major told us it would be over at ten-thirty or eleven for Armistice had been signed. That night the heavens were filled with skyrockets and flares. Just as far as one could see, they were going up. One would think the moon was shining. The lights were various colors, red, white, blue, green. Thou-sands at one time. After eleven o’clock came that day not a gun could be heard anywhere. The Germans came over shaking hands and then we went back across the line with them. One or two tried to per-suade some of the boys to go a good way back where some of the Officers were, but then some said, bet-ter not go for they may do something they shouldn’t and cause us some trouble. I was not there when all this happened for I was with the Major just then, but this was what some of the boys told me first hand.

This letter went on for a few more pages and concluded as follows; Hope that I will be blessed with the pleasure of getting home earlier than I expect. But it wouldn’t sur-prise me if I have to stay here as late as October. But I truly hope not. The sweetest thing is a letter from home.

Love and kisses, your devoted son, Ollie. He arrived back in America on June 14, 1919.


Antoinette Bailey, “Miss Annette”, as she was called, was born on November 15th, 1892 on her father’s plantation near For-sythe, Georgia to Sara Battle and R.H Bailey.

Early on she was recognized as having a great tal-ent for both music and voice. She attended Wes-leyan College in Macon, Georgia to further her education in these related fields of study. While attending Wesleyan, she and a group of close friends formed a sorority, A. D. Pi. She participat-ed in local plays and operettas and had offers to perform professionally, but when she mentioned this to her mother, she emphatically responded, “No, a lady such as you does not accept pay-ment expressing her God given talents to others.”

Miss Annette met Harry Walton All through mutual friends. After college, he soon became her hus-band. Mr. All was a graduate of Clemson College where he stared as a gifted football player. He was

so good that he went on play professional ball until he returned to his home in Allendale, South Carolina. In Allendale he joined his father in ex-tensive farming and agriculture ventures. Later, he opened his own grocery store named “Alls”, and remained in this business until his death. Together, Miss Annette and Harry had five chil-dren; Harriet, Sara, Antoinette, J.H.C and Bailey. The summers in Allendale were extremely hot and the Alls’ discovered the Bluffton area, where so many planters and their families came to enjoy the relaxation and cool summer breezes from the May River. So in the sum-mer of 1921, Miss Annette decided to bring her children on a vacation there. She spent the summers of 1921 and 1922 in a large tent on a site that is now referred to as Estill Beach.

In the summer of 1923, she rented a home from Thomas Lawton and subsequently purchased

HOW THE NAME ALL JOY BEGAN By Edward Mixson


tract of land from him and acquired plans to build a small hotel. She then contracted with the local Ulmer family to provide lumber and materials to erect it.

In its originality, it was a building with 12 bed-rooms and a large main kitchen and dining area overlooking Brighton Beach and the May River. It had six guest rooms upstairs and another six on the first floor and had huge screened in porches with rows of rocking chairs from where the guests could enjoy the breez-es and watch their chil-dren frolic and swim on of the May River.

One of the many JOYS of the hotel was the large dining room where Miss Annette served her guests a bounty local seafood caught by her son. The vegetables were bought locally and prepared by cooks brought down from Allendale who cooked them to perfection. Imagine, “All you can eat for 50 cents.” Miss Annette quickly realized that in order to fill the many re-quests of her quests at the hotel, she would need a much larger facility. Soon a similar structure with 12 guest rooms and another large kitchen and dining room was added.

Amazingly, this was accomplished at a time of America’s greatest recession. The hotel man-aged to thrive and prosper until 1935 when a fire destroyed both hotels and two addition-al homes. Unfortunately, she was unable to rebuild them, but she did return every sum-

mer staying at her brother-in-law’s home un-til she was able to build a home of her own.Former guests who became familiar with the area gradually purchased properties and construct-ed their own homes in the All Joy Circle. Some of these original families were the McKenzies, Rhodes, McSweeneys, Sanders, Lawtons, Sex-tons, Causeys, Gohagans, Chilsoms, Pattersons

and Boones. Mar-tha Crapse cur-rently resides on or about the site of the All Joy Hotel.

With only a few exceptions these original homes are still owned by the descendants who are still yet enjoying the “Great Joy” that exists in the All Joy Community.

The following is an exerpt from Angela Herbert Straight’s book, “Is It High Tide Yet?” These are some memo-ries of staying on All Joy during her summer visits in the 1950”s and 60’s.

The best location for a house on All Joy was right on the beach. Aunt Annette and Uncle J.E. Smith had the first house on the front corner of the loop. It was a white, two-story that opened to the breezes. Out-side, ironrails made great footrests as we sat and watched the May River and the people swimming.

The upstairs bedroom, where we stayed, opened to the front and the breezes from the river would drift in as we slept. We would always use bath powder af-ter showers and the smell of it reminds me of All Joy.

By Edward Mixson


Breeze J a n u a r y T i d e s

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Tide chart is calculated for the May River

lfull moon

The lunar month is the 29.53 days it takes to go from one new moon to the next. During the lu-nar month, the Moon goes through all its phases.

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Call us anytime … 24/7! 843-706-5090www.911CovertAire.com

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From deep waters of the May River to the abundance of natural wildlife -- below and

above, Bluffton is a natural paradise and our care for the environment

is a code we live by.



When Donna asked me what I was writing the Bluff-ton Breeze environmental article about, I looked at her, very reassuringly and said, “mud.” This brought a half smile from Donna, she seemed to think I was kidding. I wasn’t, so here goes.

For those of you who spent your childhood, like me, in the frost belt, you may be able to relate to these images. It’s early spring, say March, and the frost is just starting to come out of the ground. (For those of you who weren’t raised up north, it gets cold up there. So cold that the ground freezes up to eight feet deep. In the winter you can’t dig much dirt up and if you need to repair a water line, it takes jack-hammers to break up the ground.) When the frost comes up and the ground begins to thaw, the soil starts to heave or swell. The bare spots in the yard or the plowed up garden turn into really soft mud. The mud is irresistible to kids with or without galosh-es; slogging around in that mud is a great challenge. One event in our springtime ventures was to try to walk all the way across the garden without losing a boot. If a boot came off, that was the end, because when that happened you had to somehow keep your balance on one foot and pull the other boot out of the muck which was nearly impossible to accom-plish without getting other parts of your body muddy.

I relate that experience from forty years ago because

Essence d’Estuaryby Bill Hodgins

that springtime mud is similar to plough mud. What’s “plough mud”? you ask. I never knew what it was un-til one day when I was driving down Calhoun Street in Bluffton. I was confronted with a new art gallery that had cleverly adopted the phonetic spelling “Pluff Mud” as the name of its shop. Imagine that. Ten years in Bluffton and I didn’t know what plough mud was! When Lowcountry natives write of the fragrance of the marsh, they are describing the experience of plough mud. Todd Ballantine describes the fra-grance as “essence d’estuary.” The mud is the build up of soil washed off the land, detritus from marsh creatures, decayed marsh grass, and sand trans-ported in by the tides. Anyone that has stepped into the marsh knows that plough mud in the Lowcountry is just as soft as the mud up north in the spring thaw.

The mud remembers the past. Long time residents and visitors to the Bluffton area may remember tomato fields that were prevalent in this area. Possibly these crops were alternated with cotton and soybeans be-fore the land was developed or planted in pines. It is likely that a portion of the chemicals which were used to control pests in these fields are now trapped in the mud of the May and Okatie River marsh. In 1998 Sci-entists found these, as well as the chemicals used to control dock timber termites in the Okatie River mud.

The mud also hosts some significant biochemical

Unhealthy mud means an unhealthy estuary and an unhealthy estuary will not sustain the seafood that is synonymous with Bluffton.


Bill Hodgins is a consultating environmental engineer that specializes in Clean Water Act compliances.

processes. The odor is an indication of anaerobic bacterial action. Bacteria in the mud live in the ab-sence of oxygen and give off sulfur, which contrib-utes to the fragrance of the marsh. They perform an important function environmentally. They denitrify, that is, they turn nitrogen from a form that causes algae blooms to ni-trogen gas. In this way the marsh buffers the impact of nutrients from storm water runoff. Plough mud is also home to oysters, clams, fiddler crabs, snails, worms and insects. Scientists, like those studying the May River the last two summers, count the number of each of these critters in sample areas of the marsh. Each square foot of healthy mud will be home to an array of grazing marsh animals. Their number and vari-ety is an indicator of the health of the marsh. Another in-dicator of the marsh health is mud com-position. Does the mud contain high-er levels of sand and scoured sedi-ments that are as-sociated with water-shed development? Some of the marsh critters can thrive only in the soft deposits of plough mud. Other species will not be able to live through the changes in salinity and mud composition.

Mud is the substrate that holds the marsh grass in place. It is a rich environment for the spartina grass and cordgrass that grow abundantly in the marshes of Beaufort County. Toward the end of the year the growth of the marsh grass has peaked. Plants are starting to break off to be recycled through the de-caying process. These plants are a food source for

ocean plankton and bacteria, which are food for filter feeders, which are prey for larger animals. With the growth and change in the landscape of the May and Okatie Rivers from pine plantations and hardwood bottoms to golf courses, housing developments, roads, parking lots, constructed wetlands and storm

water ponds, many in this area are concerned that the chang-es will disrupt the ecological systems of the marsh. If they do, the mud will re-veal it. My hope is that even though our understand-ing of land de-v e l o p m e n t ’ s impact on the marsh systems is somewhat in its infancy, mea-sures required by Beaufort County and the Town of Bluffton to control storm water runoff will protect these systems. How effective these controls are will be revealed by regular study of plough mud.

What’s the point to all

this, you might say. It’s just mud. Well, mud, my friend, is essential to the marsh. In fact, it’s es-sential to the oysters, oyster roasts and fall get-to-gethers that involve the people of our community. Mud holds secrets to the past with its rich histo-ry of life along the May River. Its health indicates the environmental health of our tidal river. Mud is a synonym for our future --Bluffton’s future.

“Copy nature and you infringe on the work of the Lord. Interpret nature and you are an artist.” -Jaques Lipchitz

Breeze E n v i r o n m e n t


The edge is where the action is.

That’s the quick rule of thumb I learned while kayaking with Ben Turner, operator of Native Guide Tours in Bluff-ton. As the two of us glided silently along the shallow wa-ters which fringe the edges of marsh islands in the May River, many things were taking place amongst the muddy shadows and pale yellow spots of light. Creatures were liv-ing, dying and looking for love, all against the backdrop of a unique estuary ecosystem that ranks as one of the most pristine on the Eastern seaboard. In some ways, you could think of the entire marsh as the edge, the buf-fer to the sea, the nursery for countless birds, fish and animals who make their living in or around saltwater.

It was still pretty early in the morning when we set out from the Bluffton Oyster Factory. As we paddled up and down shallow creeks, I peered into the murky water hoping to catch glimpses of flounder, stingray, or a perhaps a small shark, but it seemed like they always saw me before I saw them. There would be a splash and a commotion and I would know I’d just missed whatever it was. There were certain tricks though, as Ben pointed out. For example, the places where tiny creeks empty out into larger ones are excellent spots to see big fish who hang out there waiting for tiny fish to wash down. According to Ben, these are the “refrigerator doors” of the tidal flats. Also, wherever you see shorebirds piling up along the bank, that means that something is about to “go down” at that spot. As for your own waterway stalking techniques, you want to approach something from such an angle that your shadow doesn’t cast itself over your “prey” before you get close enough to see it. Kind of like staying downwind from whatever you’re hunting on land.

“Kayaking out here is definitely going to stimulate the gray matter a little bit,” Ben told me. “The more you get into it, the more you want to learn about what you’re seeing.”

Ben is one of those true Bluffton natives who grew up

on the river and drove a motorboat long before he could drive a car. As a kid he could identify most of the birds and crea-tures by sight but he never really thought much about it. Only later as an adult did it occur to him to actually pick up a book and learn about his familiar wild friends. One thing must surely have led to anoth-er because now he can not only tell you what bird is what, he can tell you what that bird likes to eat, where it migrates to in the summer, and where that loca-tion fits in to the directional course of the gulf stream. What starts out as an expla-nation of why the water in the May River has tiny particles floating in it which, ac-cording to Ben, look like Metamucil, could easily end up in a discussion of the shape of the Atlantic coastline as it appeared 10,000 years ago. Eagles’ nesting cy-

cles, reproductive habits of oysters, the flushing action of the tides, mating rituals of the fiddler crab, and the conse-quences of littering are all topics that might emerge from his long, roundabout speeches on the ecology of this river. And indeed, if the parts of any given ecosystem are all so interconnected, how could you possibly try to explain just one without inevitably skipping around to others as well?

Of course, he does have certain favorite dwelling points. For instance, he’s slightly obsessed with marsh hens. Of all the many birds he can point out to you—pelicans, terns, herons, egrets, sandpipers, wood storks, eagles, ospreys, and as many as 30 more according to his own estimate—he always has a special place in his heart for the marsh hen. Also known as the rail, this furtive little bird emerges briefly from its hiding places in the spartina grass in order to peck around in the mud and resembles a chicken, only with a longer beak, before disappearing once more into the reedy shadows. Though they are fairly common, they are nearly impossible to spot unless they graciously allow you to see them, which isn’t often because they are so shy.

Eagles, on the other hand, are few in number yet much more visible if you know where to look. Ben is one of those eagle-watchers around here who’s on a first-name basis with the nesting pairs who live on the May River (Mama and Blackie, Bill and the Bride, etc.) and has spent the last few years informally tracking their comings and goings. Though he isn’t quite as religious about his observations as the Warings (see the eagle story in the July 2006 edition of the Bluffton Breeze) he feels the same reverence for this mag-nificent raptor. He didn’t see his first South Carolinian eagle until he was in his 40’s, owing to the fact that during the time he was growing up, eagles were on the brink of extinction and virtually non-existent in this state. While he and I were out the other morning, however, we saw two: a beautiful immature eagle perched in a tree, and an adult eagle cut-ting fast across the sky like she was on a serious mission. “If you see an eagle, you know it’s a good day,” remarked Ben. “After that, all the other is just icing on the cake.”

By Michele Roldán-Shaw


The first time Ben got in a kayak, he decided it wasn’t for him. No speed, too much effort required to steer, etc. But as he started to delve ever deeper into the whole wildlife observation thing, he found he was actually killing the mo-tor on his boat and just drifting. That’s when he figured he’d revisit the kayak, and he’s never looked back since. At some point during the 90’s he began doing working as a guide, and now he’s got his own outfit that special-izes in small, intimate tours far off the beaten path (Hilton Head). Ben will take you out on the May, the Colleton, or the New; he’ll lead you up and down creeks you never even heard of, or he’ll get you into the swampy backwaters of the ACE Basin or the quiet expanses of the Pinckney Is-land Refuge. If you’re up for it, he’ll even escort you on the 25 mile round-trip to Daufuskie. And all the while he’ll be spouting knowledge of the habitat that surrounds you.

One of the things I asked of Ben was to recall the most fascinating or unusual thing he had seen out in the marsh. He replied that he had once witnessed a “dolphin funer-al,” several adults determinedly pushing the corpse of a juvenile dolphin against the current. He didn’t follow be-cause he didn’t want to disturb them, but the mysterious scene made an impression on him. After describing this curious incident, he went on to discuss the oft-observed feeding technique of the dolphins, unique to this area, in which they actually push the fish up onto the bank and emerge from the water themselves in order to eat. I had heard about it, but as yet had never witnessed it.

“Some days you go out here and you just don’t see much of anything,” said Ben. “You really have to spend a lot of time on the water if you want to witness some dramatic moments.” A little later, I looked down at the water and saw a tiny baby puffer fish. Approximately the size of a doughnut hole, he was wriggling wildly as though in his blown up state he just was not capable of swimming in a straight line. Though I never saw a shark, a sting ray, or a dolphin funeral, the sight of that delightful little puffer fish just about made my week. I left the river that day a happy person, even though I had no idea of the wonders awaiting me in round two.

That evening I got a call from Ben. He had been think-ing about the question I asked him regarding the most unusual thing he’d seen on the river when he real-ized that he had neglected to mention the obvious re-sponse: the remains of an old dug-out canoe he found about four years ago. He said he would take me there if I promised not to reveal its exact location in my article because he didn’t want to run the risk of someone van-dalizing it or attempting to extract it without the proper tools and techniques. I readily agreed to this condition.

On Labor Day we put in at the Buckingham landing and paddled to the site. The tide was still a little too high for the canoe to be exposed, so we idled leisurely about for awhile speculating on the possible history of the canoe and pausing every now and then to identify a bird. After an archaeologist from the state looked at the remains and confirmed that it was indeed a historic dugout canoe,

Ben was given the opportunity as discoverer to name the artifact. And so it came to be called Ben’s Boat, and al-though there was never enough funding in the state’s cof-fers to carry out the necessary studies which would deter-mine its exact age and origin, the find continues to excite him even to this day. “I passed by it probably a hundred times without ever noticing it,” he said. “But on that par-ticular day, the light must have been hitting it just right during that little window of time when it’s exposed, and I saw it and thought, that ain’t no ordinary piece of wood.”

As we stared at the deteriorated bit of canoe jutting out from the squishy bank, I asked Ben if he knew any tricks to get out of pluff mud once you’d sunk down in it and become trapped.

“There’s a secret knowledge of the marsh that is only gained through experience and foolishness,” he replied. “If you get stuck once, after that you know that the trick to getting out is not getting stuck in the first place. Snow shoes work pretty well.”

Eventually we moved on from the dugout, but the excite-ment was only just beginning. As we turned up into a small-er creek, we came upon a pod of dolphins. Suddenly and with very little warning, they started thrashing around in the shallows about 15 or 20 yards in front of us and did their fa-mous fish-herding trick before hurling themselves onto the bank in full view of us. In the space of about several sec-onds, during which their entire bodies were exposed, I was utterly taken aback to see the bright pink color on the under-side of their bellies. Of course, I couldn’t get my camera out in time, but that image, that up-close encounter, National Geographic style, will be forever ingrained in my mind. After that we spent the next hour or two just chasing them around as they worked the banks of the creeks; Ben predicting where they would hit next and me fumbling around with my camera hoping to get the perfect shot. But nothing could equal the raw power and prime viewing conditions of that first time. Even if I didn’t get a photo of the year, I felt lucky just to have witnessed this phenomenon so close at hand. Even Ben said I had seen an extraordinary amount of dol-phin action for just one day, not to mention the fact that we’d amazingly spotted about five of his beloved marsh hens.

“I grew up seeing all these things, but never realizing how unique they were,” said Ben. “It’s like, oh, you mean not all dol-phins do that? Jacques Cousteau actually came here just to study these dolphins. Now I could watch them over and over and never get tired of it, and the kayak allows me to do that.”

By the time we reached the All Joy landing, the wind had picked up and thunderclaps could be heard off in the dis-tance. We hauled the boats up onto the shore and walked back to my truck, which was parked at Ben’s house only a short distance away. My shoulders were tired but my mind was satisfied. I think I could have any number of adven-tures all over the world, but I will definitely always remem-ber that trip (part I and part II) on the May River. And that’s my testimonial about Native Guide Tours by Ben Turner. For more information or to book a tour, call 757-5411.


Now is the time for a fiscal check up.Are you new as a South Carolina resident? No more excuses for not knowing how your finances and investments line up with your life goals and retirement expectations. Call today for a free consultation and we’ll explore investment strategies that are designed to help you protect your-self today, tomorrow and into the future.

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Breeze F e l l o w s h i p

AFRICAN METHODIST EPISCOPALCambell Chapel A.M.E.

25 Boundary Street, 757-3652Sunday School 8:45am

Worship:10am

ASSEMBLY OF GOD

New River Worship CenterHwy 170 & Argent Blvd. (next to ESPY)

379-1815 Sunday: 10:30am Wednesday 7pm

BAPTISTFirst Baptist Church of Bluffton

Boundary at Church Street, 757-3472Sunday School: 9am

Worship: 10:30am & 6pm

First Zion BaptistWharf Street 757-3128

Sunday School: 9amSunday worship: 10am

May River Baptist ChurchSC-170, North of US 46, 757-2518

Sunday School: 9:45amSunday Worship: 10am & 7pm

St. John’s Baptist Church103 Pritchard Street, 757-4350

Sunday Worship: 11am

St. Matthew’s Baptist ChurchSC Highway 170, 757-3255

Sunday Worship: 11am

Indian Hill Baptist ChurchHwy 278 next to Eagle’s Point, 757-2603

Sunday School: 9:45amSunday Worship: 11am

Bible Missionary Baptist ChurchGoethe Road Community Cntr, 815-5523

Sunday Worship: 11amBible Study: 6pm

CATHOLICSt. Gregory the Great Catholic Church

333 Fording Island Road, 815-3100Sat. 4pm, 6pm Sun. 7:15am, 9am, 11am, 5pm,

Espanol 1pm Mon-Fri 6:45am Chapel, 8:30am Church

EPISCOPALThe Church of the Cross110 Calhoun St, 757-2661

495 Buckwalter Parkway, 757-2662Sunday Worship: 8am & 10am

The Episcopal Church of OkatieAt St. Luke’s Baptist ChurchHwy 170 and Snake Road,

Worship: 1st, 3rd and 5th Sunday, 8:30am

GREEK ORTHODOXHoly Resurrection Church

at St. Andrews Catholic Church 220 Pickney Colony Road, 837-4659

Orthros: 9:30am, Liturgy 10am

JEWISHTemple Osah Shalom

at Lowcountry Presbyterian278 Simmonsville Road, 705-2532

Shabbat Worship 3rd Friday of month, 8pm

LUTHERANLord of Life Lutheran Church

351 Buckwalter Parkway, 757-4774Sunday School: 10am

Sunday Worship: 8am, 9am, 11am

METHODISTBluffton United Methodist Church

101 Calhoun Street, 757-3351Sunday School 9:45am

Sunday Worship: 8:45am & 11am

Church of the Palms United Methodist1425 Okatie Highway, 379-1888

Sunday Worship: 10:30am

St. Luke’s United Methodist ChurchSC Highway 170 near Sun CIty, 705-3022

Sunday Worship: 8:30am and 10am

PRESBYTERIANLowcountry Presbyterian Church

US 278 and Simmonsville Road, 815-6570Sunday School: Adult 9:40am, Child 10:30

Sunday Worship: 8:30am & 10:30am

Grace Coastal Church (PCA)1425 Okatie 15 Williams Drive (off SC170),

379-5521Sunday School: 11am

Sunday Worship: 9:30am

NON-DENOMINATIONALLive Oak Christian Church

Bluffton High School Auditorium 757-5670Kidstreet: 9:15am, Worship 10:15am

Lowcountry Community ChurchBluffton Campus: 801 Buckwalter Parkway,

836-1101Sunday Worship: 8:30am, 10am, 11:30am

JEHOVAH’S WITNESSESKingdom Hall, SC 46, 815-4455

Sunday Public Talk: 9:30am & 3:30pmSpanish Public Talk: 12:30pm


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Breeze B l u f f t o n B u l l e t i n B o a r d

For future announcements on the Bluffton Bulletin Board call the Breeze

at 843 757 8877.

Farm fare from Bluffton and beyond, every Thursday 2pm to 7pm

Farmers Market was voted the most celebrated Market in SC

and 11th in the USA!

Thursday January 23 from 6:00 to 7:30 Learn “Why and how to use your website as

the center of all marketing efforts” 400 Buckwalter Place. (843) 540-0405

Michele Roldan-Shawwww.ramblerslife.com

Max is a very playful young adult. He enjoys runs, toys, and gentle wrestling. Max is great with oth-er dogs and loves kids. Neutered, microchipped, and up to date on his vaccines; come meet Max.For more info call PAL at 843-645-1725 or email

[email protected]

Rambler’s Life: The South Reloaded

The Chamber is accepting applications and sponsors for the April 12 “Taste of Bluffton” Call 757-1010


LOGGERHEAD SEA TURTLES

Evening Turtle talks and walks with Amber Kuehn will be offered on Tues-day and Thursday evenings June through August. Please call 843-689-6767 ext 223 to make your reserva-tion. Cost is $20 adult, $15 child (no

children under 4 years of age)


Breeze O V E R T H E B R I D G E SBEAUFORT

*Jan. 26 ONE STONE Enjoy a “musical journey” of hand-made wind instruments, and a few other surprise instru-ments, by Yannis Pantazis, a musician, composer, and instrument artisan from Greece. The audience partic-ipates with bells and handmade Greek drums! Beaufort County ArtWorks, 379-2787, 2127 Boundary St., Beaufort (K-Mart Plaza). 3 pm $20 (Group of 10 $14, Kids $8)

*Jan. 30 THE HEN PARTY The best in clean Southern comedy! Karen Mills and Leanne Morgan will have you cracking up about everything from low rise jeans to fax ma-chines. Come with your girlfriends or bring your rooster with you! USCB Center for the Arts, 521-4145, 801 Carteret St., Beaufort. 7:30 pm $22 (Seniors $20, Students $15)

HILTON HEAD ISLAND

Jan. 4 WATERWAY EXCURSION CRUISE Learn about salt marsh, maritime forest, barrier islands, and history of Pickney Island. Coastal Discovery Mu-seum, 689-6767, Hudson’s Dock, Squire Pope Rd., HHI. Reservations required. 10 am-12 pm $35

*Jan. 15 WHALES OF SOUTH CAROLINA Dr. Al Segars will cover natural history of the whales that visit our waters. Coastal Discovery Museum, 689-6767, 70 Honey Horn Dr., HHI. Reservations required. 3-4 pm $7

*Jan 19-20 THE JAZZ AGE Enjoy the music of Stra-vinsky, Glazunov, Debussy, and Gershwin. Listen to jazz, America’s contribution to world culture, flavored by French and Russian masters. Hilton Head Sym-phony Orchestra, 842-2055, First Presbyterian Church, 540 William Hilton Pkwy. (278), HHI. Sun. 4 pm, Mon, 8 pm (Pre-concert talk 1 hour prior to show.) $25, 40, 50

*Jan. 22 LOGGERHEAD SEA TURTLES Amber Kuehnwill discuss the nesting habits and conservation efforts in the local area. Coastal Discovery Museum, 689-6767, 70 Honey Horn Dr., HHI. Reservations re-quired. 3-4 pm $7

Breeze O V E R T H E B R I D G E S*Jan. 22-Feb. 9 SHIPWRECKED! This hair-raising tale of a high seas adventure populated by exotic islanders, giant sea turtles, and a monstrous man-eating octopus is based on actual events. Told by three actors with lots of theatrical magic. South Carolina Repertory Company, 342-2057, 136B Beach City Rd., HHI. Tues.-Sat. 8 pm, Sun. 2 pm $32 (Seniors $30, 6-ticket FlexPass $162)

*Feb. 4-23 DON’T DRESS FOR DINNER This wild-ly funny play is the sequel to the Broadway hit Boe-ing-Boeing. Get ready for a collision course of mistak-en identities, outrageous infidelities, and quick-paced fun! Arts Center of Coastal Carolina, 842-2787, 17 Shelter Cove Lane, HHI. 2 pm $35, 45 (Kids $25, 31)

*Mar. 1 The Hilton Head Shore Notes women’s a cappella chorus presents “Ease On Down The Road” on Saturday, March 1, at 7:00 p.m. at the Hilton Head High School’s Vi-sual & Performing Arts Center, 70 Wilborn Road. Featured guest quartets are “Live Out Loud,” finalists at the Sweet Adelines Int’l Competition in Hawaii, and “Shrimp ‘n’ Grits,” a men’s quartet from Charleston that medaled in the Dix-ie District Competition. The Shore Notes’ two quartets, “Coastal Rhythm” and “Just One Night” will also appear.Tickets are $20 A portion of the profits will be donated to The Main Street Youth Theater. www.hiltonheadshore-notes.com or call Sherry at 843-706-9877.

SAVANNAH

*Jan. 4 ELVIS LIVES is an unforgettable multi-media and live musical journey across Elvis’ life. Featuring finalists from Elvis Presley Enterprises’ worldwide Ultimate Elvis Tribute Artist Contest, as well as a tribute to Ann-Margret. Johnny Mercer Theatre at the Savannah Civic Center, Broadway in Savannah, 912-651-6550, 301 W. Oglethorpe Ave. 8 pm $32-57

*Jan. 4 FREE FAMILY DAY AT JEPSON CENTER FOR THE ARTS Building Blocks of Buildings. Telfair Museums, 912-790-8802, 207 W. York St., Sav. 1-4 pm Free

*Jan. 12 SLEEPING BEAUTY The Nureyev State Ballet Theatre brings the world’s most beloved ballet to glorious life! This company of 60 distinguished dancers showcas-

Breeze O V E R T H E B R I D G E S

*Wheelchair accessible event.


Breeze O V E R T H E B R I D G E Ses the unparalleled art of Russian ballet. Johnny Mercer Theatre at the Savannah Civic Center (Featured Events), 912-651-6550, 301 W. Oglethorpe Ave. 3 pm $31-62

*Jan. 16-25 LES MISERABLES Discover a nation in the grip of revolution, where a convict is hunted relentlessly for breaking his parole. He has no choice but to fight for his life and sacrifice everything to protect those he loves. Savan-nah Theatre, 912-233-7764, 222 Bull St. Thurs.-Sat. 8 pm, Sat. 1/25 3 & 8 pm, Sun. 3 pm $37.45 (Group of 20 $30, Coupon $34.24, Kids $18.19)

*Jan. 17 IN THE MOOD is America’s premiere Big Band Revue. The band, plus singer-dancers, celebrates the Greatest Generation and the 1940’s with musical arrange-ments, costumes, and choreography. It’s a sentimental, ro-mantic, nostalgic, jazzy, and patriotic tribute to the Swing Era. SCAD Box Office (All Events), 912-525-5050, Lucas Theatre, 32 Abercorn St., Sav. 2 & 7 pm $16-65

*Jan. 22-26 RINGLING BROS. AND BARNUM & BAILEY CIRCUS presents Super Circus Heroes. The circus of-fers real face-time with performers starting at the interac-tive All Access Pre-show 1 hour prior to the main event. Martin Luther King Jr. Arena at the Savannah Civic Center (Featured Events), 912-651-6550, 301 W. Oglethorpe Ave. Wed.-Thurs. 7 pm; Fri. 10:30 am & 7 pm; Sat. 11 am, 3 & 7 pm; Sun. 1 & 5 pm $20-40 (Opening night $10-40)

*Jan 31 SCÈNES DE LA VIE DE BOHÈME Savannah Philharmonic Orchestra. SCAD Box Office (All Events), 912-525-5050, Lucas Theatre, 32 Abercorn St., Sav. 7:30 pm (Pre-concert talk 1 hour prior to show.) $16-70

*Jan. 31-Feb. 9 GREASE Go back to the days of loud cars, big hair and summer lovin’ with classic songs. Savan-nah Theatre, 912-233-7764, 222 Bull St. Thurs-Sat. 8 pm, Sat. 2/8 3 & 8 pm, Sun. 3 pm $37.45 (Group of 20 $30, Coupon $34.24, Kids $18.19)

*Feb. 5 HAIR This exuberant musical about a group of young Americans searching for peace and love in a turbu-lent time features an extraordinary cast and unforgettable songs. For mature audiences. Johnny Mercer Theatre at the Savannah Civic Center, Broadway in Savannah, 912-651-6550, 301 W. Oglethorpe Ave. 7:30 pm $30-55

*Feb. 8 COLUMBIA CITY BALLET PRESENTS: AL-ICE IN WONDERLAND A ballet that will take you into the mind-bending, magical fantasy of the fairy tale classic. Johnny Mercer Theatre at the Savannah Civic Center (Fea-tured Events), 912-651-6550, 301 W. Oglethorpe Ave. 5:30 pm $18-38

*Feb. 14-16 I LOVE YOU, YOU’RE PERFECT, NOW CHANGE This hilarious musical comedy about that terribly wonderful, simply complex thing called love is a romp through our everyday relationships. Savannah The-atre, 912-233-7764, 222 Bull St. Fri. 8 pm, Sat. 3 & 8 pm, Sun. 3 pm $37.45 (Group of 20 $30, Coupon $34.24, Kids $18.19)

*Feb. 20-23 & Mar. 1-2 THE SAVANNAH TENORS Dy-namic male voices blending music and comedy to produce a unique theatrical experience – featuring songs from clas-sical to current pop hits. Two hours of the most inspiring music of all time! Savannah Theatre, 912-233-7764, 222 Bull St. Thurs.-Sat. 8 pm, Sun. 3 pm $37.45 (Group of 20 $30, Coupon $34.24, Kids $18.19)

*Mar. 12-13 GLORIOSA - Art in Bloom.Trustees’ Garden Club, Jepson Center for the Arts, 207 West York Street. 10 am-5pm. Visit www.trusteesgar-denclub.com for details

BLUFFTONJan. 10 & 11 THE INCREDIBLE BOBBY RYDER Peace-ful Henry’s. 181 Bluffton Rd, Bluffton, SC 29910. 843-757-0557 Reservations required.

Jan. 16 LUNCH WITH AUTHOR: KAREN WHITE At last, the fourth and final book of the Tradd Street Mysteries !!! Do you want to know if Melanie and Jack Treholm ever get together? USCB Lunch With Author, 521-4147, Belfair Clubhouse, Bluffton Reservations required. Noon $42 (in-cludes lunch)

Jan. 16 WINE TASTING WITH SHELBY 7-9PM Peace-ful Henry’s. 181 Bluffton Rd, Bluffton, SC 29910. 843-757-0557.

Jan. 24 NISH PATEL Peaceful Henry’s. 181 Bluffton Rd, Bluffton, SC 29910. 843-757-0557. Reservations required.


There’s nothing like a good story to capture the spirit of a day - Bluffton stories are understated, charming and eccentric - just

like the town we live in.


Shadows gathered on the horizon as we made our way through the sinewy, waist high grass; two boys exploring for tidal creek treasures on a hot summer afternoon. Thick mud tugged at our legs as we struggled ahead, each step more laborious than the last. The wind began to whip across the landscape spurring our mired pace. Distant rumbles of thunder grew steadily sharper, bands of rain plodded ever closer to our exposed path. We struggled mightily against the pull of the mud, pushed by the threat of storm, yet unable to hasten our re-treat to safety. The rain soon pelted the leeward shore, flushing several egrets into the turbulent air, their white plumes distinct against the dark sky. A strong burst of wind caught our hats sending them twisting and dashing beyond our reach; the formidable clouds began to shed crocodile tears, heavy, cold drops in the humid marshland, a teaser of what was to come. Clearing the thick mud we dashed like bandits for a weathered palmetto a few hundred yards off. The tattered palm leaned against a bank of sand and shell; on this small exposed bit of sand we had beached our boat. The tide was rising quickly, exposing alternate means of es-cape from the steaming front. Reaching the boat we elected to outrun the weather instead of riding it out beneath the ragged palm. The engine turned and was immediately thrown into gear, for the crocodile tears were giving way to sharp, sting-ing pellets. We counted 4 “Mississippi” between lightning flash and each clap of thunder. We were cutting it too close. The dark sky was nearly in-

distinguishable from the brackish, black water as we sped around the narrow creek corners. The boat bogged down several times on bars and rakes the incoming tide had yet to fully cover, in a panicked fury we would leap from the boat and

push with the strength of desperate men to free the vessel. The storm gained, 3 “Mississip-pi” between lightning and cracks of thunder. The mouth of the creek seemed to never appear as wind and rain licked our heels. Deep green marsh and gumbo mud hemmed us in as turn af-ter turn through the tidal waters failed to produce a clear horizon. The heavens unfurled just as

we cleared the confines of the creek into open water pushing full throttle for home. We crouched low to avoid the beating rain, our home dock now within site. The anchor clanged angrily in the bow with each chop received from whitecap waves. The deck was slick as black ice making it impos-sible to secure the front line without being tossed about risking a fall overboard. The engine’s high pitch scream tapered a bit as we pulled to dock in the midst of the storm. We tied up on the fly pulling the drain plug and running full stride for the safety of the house. The door barely slammed behind us when zero “Mississippi” crashed down with a thun-dering burst of energy. The lights flicked out and my sisters screamed. We collapsed to the floor laughing and punching one another knowing we had tested fate and won by the skin of our teeth.

By Gene Cashman, III

“You know when you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” — Dr. Seuss

Afternoon Thunderstorm


Twelve summers ago I begged my dad to let my then girlfriend, Betsy come visit me in Bluffton. It was just months before our freshman year in college and I wanted her to experience all the things I loved. I reasoned with my dad that we’d been dating for a year and a half and would be at Auburn together in the fall. In other words, things were potentially serious and she had yet to take the “Bluffton Test.” I remember him giv-ing me a disconcerting look as he went about his yard work. “Serious huh,” he said with a doubt-ing smile as he pulled weeds, “serious enough to sweat for?” I assured him our love was worth whatever he had in mind. He stood up and sur-veyed the yard. There were a lot of projects but one stood out, the barbeque pit. It was not only overgrown with weeds, but roots had pushed up and made the bricked patio uneven. I expe-rienced this unfortunate landscape firsthand ev-ery time I stubbed my toe carrying chicken or ribs to the grill. “Son, you rip up those bricks, dig up those roots and lay new bricks down flat, and I will consider flying Betsy over.” I began to twitch with excitement, but he wasn’t through. “You pressure wash the bricks and house and then cook a rack of ribs on the grill, and I will consider letting her stay more than a few hours.”

Dad’s proposal was definitely a tall order, but without even thinking of time, cost or how-to, I eagerly accepted and the deal was done. Well, I should say it was almost done. I had never laid a brick in my life. Fortunately for me my dad was generous enough to impart two hours worth of wisdom gleaned from working for his father’s

construction company. He even pitched in and purchased all the materials. Looking back on this situation, among many others, I laugh at how a father will not only steal time with a son but also accomplish something worthwhile in the process.

The next morning I started clearing roots, cracked brick and debris with vigorous enthusiasm. By late in the afternoon I had cleared out a nice, lev-el area to lay new bricks and sand. I think the speed and quality of the work shocked my dad. I remember him heaping praise that night at din-ner. It was almost as if he didn’t really believe I was serious enough to tackle the job. Rest as-sured, I was motivated to get Betsy to Bluffton. I had talked the place up for a solid year, about how great it was, how the river was magic and the marsh romantic. There was a lot riding on not only getting her to Oyster Street, but making sure the time she had while in Bluffton’s grasp was incredible. I think I was also hoping for a kiss.

The project was completed in record time. By noon of the fourth day the last shovel load of sand was spread across the bricks and swept into the cracks. The long Savannah Sugar Refinery mess tables, my great grandfather used by the pit, were restored to their rightful place and by dusk a fire was lit. We wouldn’t be having ribs, but the burg-ers we burned were the best I ever tasted. I eager-ly called Betsy that night and told her the news. In those days Betsy was a little less used to my cockamamie schemes. It took a little coaxing and a conversation with her parents to convince them to let her come, but by bedtime that same night

Written by Gene Cashman IIIThe Bluffton Test


a flight was booked. I couldn’t have been happier. Now, it was time to plan for her test. I was already pretty much as head over heels in love as a man could be, well, a college freshman’s could be. I figured if she could love Bluffton like I loved Bluff-ton then she was without a doubt the girl for me.

The Bluffton test was, and still is, a mix of all things Bluffton. Some are old and some are new, but all are telling of a person’s character. You can learn a great deal about someone by the way they react to the sublime and eccentric ways of life in Bluffton. I wanted Betsy to know and understand my perspective of Bluffton.

At the time, those delights included getting sun-burned at Alljoy; hanging out at the sandbar from high tide to high tide; fishing all day long; crabbing in a wooden boat or on a party barge; participating in the Mullet Day boat parade; gigging for flounder on a late night low tide; floating the tide on a raft; riding a beach bike to Eggs-entricity or The Store to shop; a Squat and Gobble burger; a Sippin’ Cow shake; a trip to the old Scott’s; boiled pea-nuts on the dock, the Savannah Morning News, fresh crab legs and a cold beer. The list is real-ly as endless and as deep as one’s experience or memory of the town. After all, Bluffton was the original “state of mind.” Knowing and enjoying the NON-chain restaurant/mega-store/asphalt as-pects of the town are essential, or at least it used to be. Even still, I find the heart of Bluffton remains the May River and the people it has seduced.

I wanted Betsy to really understand this, it was ev-ery bit as important to me as when we might mar-ry, how many kids we might have; before all those things I wanted her to understand my Bluffton.

Without even knowing she was under surveil-lance, Betsy arrived and was immediately im-mersed in the “fast paced idleness” of late July Bluffton. Meaning, the activity of the day, a swim in the river, just might be all you can handle be-fore a trashy novel and nap in the hammock. My Bluffton, when not working for my dad, was very low key. To my delight she fell head over heels. She loved everything. It was one of the deep-est joys of our relationship to watch her fall in love with the lowcountry. Needless to say, Bet-

sy passed the Bluffton test. In fact, she re-wrote the test six years later by insisting we marry on the banks of the May. To this day I believe it was that trip that cemented things for us. Bluffton be-came our place of refuge, the place our relation-ship always returned to when things got worn and needed to be recharged. Bluffton reset us.

There is now the need to create a new test, one that will be written for the newest addition to our world. Our daughter’s first Bluffton test will occur when we see Papa and YaYa at Thanksgiving. The Bluffton she will know is now so different from what my great grandparents, grandparents, par-ents and siblings knew and grew to love. One by one, many of the old names, faces and traditions have fallen away. Some feel ole Bluffton is slip-ping beneath the waves and that the spirit of the old town and its people are disbanding to other, less commercial places. Perhaps this is true, I see the change and I get stuck in the traffic but I have hope. Even though some of the change discour-ages me it is my deepest desire that my family and my generation will know the river, the marsh, the unique people that make up the lowcountry in better ways than previous generations. It is my prayer my daughter passes her own Bluffton test.


OYSTER/JANUARY: You are very tough and sometimes make cutting, sarcastic remarks. You use your toughness to hide your secret soft side. If anyone can get through your protec-tive shell, you make a very loyal friend. You like to get dirty and

even though you bathe frequently, you never get really clean. But, you do have good taste and are known for be-ing sensual. You seem to always show up at Bluffton back-yard parties hanging out by the beer. When people get too close to you they usually get hurt. Best paired with SHRIMP AND BUZZARDS. CAMELLIA/FEBRUARY: You are very sure of yourself and

cold hearted. Some people won’t have anything to do with you be-cause of your selfishness. You are extremely beautiful, but that’s not enough to keep friends. You aren’t a very good housekeeper and you should hire an exterminator for all of those little bugs that are always crawling all over your house. If you

don’t learn to smile once in awhile and do something for other people, you could end up all alone in your old age. If you are already old, it’s probably too late, but you might find some companionship with a CHIGGER. You need to learn that it’s not all about YOU!

MULLET/MARCH:You are ex-tremely active and love to travel. You can easily adapt to many dif-ferent social levels and can be seen at local restaurants because you love to eat. You lean toward

stripes, but have a number of solid colors in your wardrobe as well. Most of the time you are quite popular and easygoing, but you will put up a good fight if someone tries to corner you. You need to avoid ALLI-GATORS and spend time with LOVE BUGS and CHIGGERS.

AZALEA/APRIL: Most of the time you are pretty boring, but when you get spring fever you become loud and boastful. You can nev-er remember anyone’s name so you tend to call everyone by a nickname, like Sugar Dumplin’ or Darlin’ Precious or Honey Baby.

You have season tickets for the Braves and have been going to the Masters all your life. You speak with a southern drawl even if you moved here from Alaska. You are best paired with a LOVE BUG because you don’t mind them being clingy. You can understand why they are so attached to you because they constantly tell you how wonderful you are - and, of course, they’re right.

GNAT (“No-See-Um”) MAY: Some-times you can be such a pest. You have a bad habit of getting in peo-ples faces so forcefully that it can be annoying. You love to garden and go camping and you really love a good sporting event espe-cially if it is played in the evening

at dusk. You have type A, B or B positive personality and people try to avoid you. You don’t realize what a nuisance you really are and you wish people wouldn’t wear that sweet smelling oily perfume. There really aren’t any signs who like to be around you.

BUZZARD/JUNE: You have a pas-sionate desire to reuse what some-one has thrown away. You believe that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. You love a crowd especially at meals. Your favorite color is black although you like to dress it up a little with a pair of white gloves. Your part-ner should be another BUZZARD, however you have been known to

enjoy the company of an OYSTER.

Blufftonians don’t believe in horoscopes, and that’s because Blufftonians can’t be fooled into believing that the position of the stars have anything to do with their personalities or future events. Blufftonians are blessed with what is called extra-super eccentric intelligence, otherwise known as ESEI, which is the result of a storm on the planet Blufftona back in 1826 which brought aliens to this area now known as Bluffton. The aliens placed an invisible shield over the Bluffton area and special cosmic forces have been constantly time-released from within the invisible shield. These cosmic rays have been known to cause Blufftonians to think, do and say all sorts of un-usual things (eccentricity). The date of birth of a Blufftonian (or the date of permanently moving here) determines that person’s Bluffton sign and corresponding eccentric behavior. The proof is obvious - just read the 12 Bluffton signs and see for yourself. Unlike ordinary horoscopes, the dates of a Bluffton horoscope follow the calendar months and Blufftonians realize in all humility that this is just one of many indications of their super intelligence. After all, Blufftonians consider simplicity the mark of genius, but they won’t call you stupid if you don’t agree.

What’s Your Bluffton Sign?Written by Donna Huffman and Tamela Maxim


ALLIGATOR/JULY: You are an animal lover, but they always run away from you and since you move slowly, you never get a chance to show your sincere affection. You like to sunbathe and spend a lot of time in the sun just minding your own busi-

ness. You don’t think it’s very funny when people point at you and wish they would leave you alone. There is no rea-son why people shouldn’t trust you, but for some reason, no one ever does. You don’t know why it bothers people so much when they see you smiling. Life is very hard for you to understand. Sometimes you just want to go hide under a rock somewhere. The only sign which understands you is the CHIGGER.

CHIGGER (“Red Bug”) AU-GUST: You are very nosy and get into everybody’s business. You are pretty annoying when people first meet you, but you get even more annoying as time goes on. The only way to get rid of you is to ignore you complete-ly. You spend most of your time hiking in the woods, looking for

ways to ease your pain and loneliness. You long for a deep and serious relationship where you can completely burrow into someone’s soul and become one with your true love. Perhaps you should strike up a friendship with an OYSTER because they are the least likely to be annoyed with you If you could just learn to give people some space, you might be able to find your dream partner.

LOVE BUG/SEPTEMBER: You hate to be alone, but you don’t like crowds either. You prefer the company of just one special person. Once you fall in love, you become very attached emotionally and are very clingy. You do best with other LOVE BUGS be-cause you need someone who has the same romantic appetite for you and wants to kiss and cuddle for days at a time. Most people wonder why you two don’t just get a room.You are attracted to cars, and you like

them so much that you and your sweetheart sometimes ride on them forever. AZALEAS are also fond of you because they think you are romantic, but you never pay any attention to them.

SHRIMP/OCTOBER: You hang out with OYSTERS be-cause you both love a party. You like to eat everything whether its fried, broiled, baked, boiled and even raw - sushi style. Your parties are very popular. You’re usual-ly fair minded but you have

been known to lose your head. You turn a pretty shade of pink when you get hot. If you are hoping to win the heart of a SHRIMP, you should probably call a good therapist first and schedule several years of treatment. Believe me, you’ll need it! Because they can’t make a commitment, you should spend as much time as

possible with MISTLETOE because they won’t care if you ever marry them or not.

DOLPHIN/NOVEMBER: The water is very import-ant to you, especially the May River. Your good-na-

tured attitude helps when things get rough. You seem to glide through life and when you get in trouble you always talk your way out of it. You love children and stay pretty close to family and friends. You love to entertain and are constantly doing things to get attention such as acrobatics or making funny little chirping sounds. You are the life of the party and very popular. You get along with most everyone however you have been known to really love SHRIMP and

MULLET.

MISTLETOE/DECEMBER: You are the hit of every party. You are sweet and your personality is in-toxicating. Some people never seem to get enough of you and they act like fools around you. Whenever you are nearby some people fall in love, but not with you, which hurts your feelings.

You are the kind of person who is so interesting that a little of you goes a long way. Some people don’t like you be-cause you are so prideful and you act like the only MIS-TLETOE lives in Bluffton, but of course, that’s not true. You do best with SHRIMP because they won’t make fun of you when you show off at parties.

What’s Your Bluffton Sign?


up in one hand an “angle bell” and with a piece of rebar in the other, rang it vigorously. Like worship-pers to the altar, the crowd moved to the tables and waited in anticipation. I loved the company, but this was what I had come for. Ghee understood when the bell rang out and I made a bee-line for a place at those bare tables. It was oyster shuckin’ time.

Like everyone there, I had come prepared. I had one of Granddaddy’s old oyster knives, hand wrought from a railroad spike, for opening, a thick canvas glove for holding, a hand towel tied to a right side loop through my jeans for wiping and a fierce han-kerin’ for this river harvest. When the “stoker” and his help spread the first baskets filled with oysters across the tables we all dove in looking like something be-tween chickens on a fresh scattering of cracked corn and happy cannibals at a convention. Nobody got cut, but oysters and knives were none the less flying.

The most truthful description I have ever heard of the oyster’s flesh came from a line of dialogue spoken by Jed, on The Beverly Hillbillies show. “Looks like something that fell out of an ox’s nose.” Like it or not, you know you have to admit he was on the mon-ey. Can you just imagine how desperately hungry that first oyster eater must have been? I mean the very, very, very first. Back then I don’t think that they even had beer to sort of soften the raw visual real-ity. That’s another thing, you gotta figure that that’s the condition the first one went down, raw. Now it took awhile, several six packs of beer one night in my twenties, before I gained a taste for the crit-ters, but to this day I’m still not one to eat them raw.

All of this talk and the fresh memory of last night’s feast has my mouth watering all over again. I got a bushel of “local singles,” and Ghee knows I’m not talkin’ about ladies, this morning. The propane cook-er is out waitin’ in the back yard. There’s nothing to do now but steam up a load. Y’all come on over if you like. Sorry to cut this short but I’m gonna belly back up to the ox’s nose. Yeah momma, oysters on my mind.

by Stumblin’ Jimmy Watermelon

Last night, Ghee (that’s the nick-name I have for my loving wife) and I attended an outdoor, island party. Now I make that distinction for you city folks as in fact most

island parties, even if they start off inside, wind up outdoors. There’s just so much more room and ventilation. Not to mention that if you find you have to lie down and get your bearings for a bit, it’s not so prominently noticeable to lie down in the grass than on the host’s living room floor. I guess there’s the bathroom, but people are always knockin’ on the door. Don’t get the wrong idea, when I met Ghee I gave most of that silliness up, but I digress.

Yes, we were at this island party. There was good, crisp, clear weather. There were good, down to earth, homey island people. There was music and dancin’. Most importantly, for me anyway, there was food. Ghee will tell you, I can dance like a dog can sing; more often than not, badly. That being the case, the tendency of my concentration leans more heav-ily toward the catering end of the show. Folks, to that end this party was an hungry islander’s delight.

Red and white checkerboard cloth covered tables were spread around one side of the yard, lantern lighted. They framed bowls of cole slaw, potato sal-ad and hot spicy chili. Foil covered trays of fresh grilled hot dogs and burgers, fried chicken and lard biscuits and serving platters of that old faithful, Frogmore stew. Pies and fudge and banana pud-ding had a place all their own. There were chairs evenly spaced, dinnerware wrapped in napkins and glasses waiting for their patrons to fill and drink.

Way over on the far other edge of the yard, far enough that a line of night shadow separated the two, next to the dock and river, were four long bare wooden tables. They were lighted by a line of na-ked light bulbs strung between the trees, all just back of the pungent marsh edge. The tables were placed end to end in one long line. At their head and back a few paces more was a sideways laid, hinged steel barrel contraption heated by the flames of a propane tank. Steam churned out of it like an old locomotive engine just in, idling at a station’s rail. Three men in old field coats, jeans and rubber boots labored around it in harmony. One watched and adjusted the fire, one hosed the contents of a big wash tub while the last man stoked and turned what lay in the steaming barrel. Not far from them a crowd of spectators milled about in jovial conversa-tion. Finally, the man who had been “stoking” held

OYSTERS ON MY MIND


Bluffton is a unique town. I have said that many times and feel that I am right with out a shadow of a doubt. Here we have our own style, speed and mode of thought. Our unofficial slogan sums up Bluffton without much dispute. It allows interpretation and causes enough confusion in the average persons mind to not be forgotten, as the rear bumper of a passing car disappears into the masses of traffic in Scott’s parking lot. Actually, Palmetto State Bank is responsible for the bumper stickers on all the cars in Bluffton. “Bluffton is a state of mind” is a quote from Charlotte Inglesby’s book “A Corner of Carolina”. The interpretation is loose and variable, allowing the individual to question and wonder at his own pace. The clincher is that people do think and wonder what it means and eventually say to themselves that there must be somebody who knows exactly what is the state of mind in Bluffton. I offer my opinion and then dare to share the anonymous and not so anonymous opinions of those subjected to a telephone poll.

Bluffton is a state of mind. It is a beautiful place that aids in the paths of thought followed by her natives. The true art of Bluffton is in the way her children think. People here bother to think and care in areas of life most of America today avoids. Blufftonians use their minds. Maybe that’s because there is nothing else to do here, but they do use them. Blufftonians have a way

of sensing an intruder, they know when some-body is not used to the way of life here. People work hard with their hands in Bluffton. We know that there is no place better anywhere else in the world and we will never stray far from the nest. The state of mind here can seem uppity to an outsider, but the only thing worse than conceitedness is false modesty. Something

about Bluffton lets a person think freely. Other Blufftonians

will not always agree with the thoughts,

but that happens when people are truly alive and express-ing themselves.

Bluffton’s state of mind is truly alive.

Thirteen year-old Andre Atkins said, “To live in Bluffton,

you really have to enjoy it. It’s so quiet, it becomes your state of mind.” It seems as though you become Bluffton and Bluffton becomes you. Other citizens are afraid of the rapid changes that have approached in the last 10 years or so. They know there is something special about Bluffton and they are afraid it will pass with the changes in time. If we don’t speak out, we won’t have anything left. Other opinions classify Bluff-ton as a utopia of sorts. There is a balance that allows the camaraderie. Culture and sincerity. Our town is a little offbeat only if we are mea-sured against the typical American standard. We simply have our own beat. We call it tradition.

The Bluffton Eccentric

By Betsy Thayer

The “Bluffton Eccentric” was the first newspaper the town of Bluffton had. Grahm Bullock, publisher of the Bluffton Eccentric has allowed us to resurrect articles from previous issues and republish them. It is with great honor that I get to share them with everyone again. So, kick back, relax and get ready for a blast from the past.


After two years in the city, (Columbia, SC) I came home to find change. First of all, I am delighted that I can offer something back to the community which has given me my roots, a place of belonging and a sense of identity. I am excited to have this opportuni-ty to prove the value of a college education.

I am loyal to Bluffton and always have been. It is home. The iced tea is sweeter. The peo-ple are friendlier and the salt water is more refreshing, some would say, “mo’ betta.”

Scotts, Nickel Pumpers and the Post Office are still the “hot spots.” There are no traffic lights, no neon signs. There is safety here. The city wasn’t safe. I remember the night I stood helplessly at my 15th story window, watching a man chase a screaming woman. Then I realized, “this is not Bluffton.”Perhaps on those short weekends home, I simply neglected to recognize the change. I still see home through “rose colored glasses.” In the spirit of the only thing that remains the same is change, Bluffton has grown without me. I return to find new houses, subdivisions and people. Friends I grew up with are marry-ing. I take on the demeanor of a responsible adult and commence to challenge my education.

People change and sometimes forget to tell one another. Well. Bluffton changed and forgot to tell me. Some of the cashiers at Scotts don’t know me. It angered me the day I

was asked for my driver’s license to cash a check. There’s cable TV and a barber shop. The beach is clean. There’s a restaurant called the Squat and Gobble. To top it all off, Arnold Palmers’ name is on a car dealership and there is a pizza parlor in a business complex.This is some shock to the person who remembers life before Nickel Pumpers. I remember when there was McCracken High and May River Academy.

I’ve been in Bluffton for 21 years, not as long as some but longer than many. It’s amazing how much can happen to our benefit, if we let it.We’ve always known who we are and we’ve never reasoned why or made any excuses. There is neither pretense, nor glittering gen-erality in Bluffton. We wave at our neighbors and we know the grand marshals in our pa-rades. It is okay to thumb our noses at those who don’t understand us. We know who we are.Blufftonians are prouder now. We have a broader vision for ourselves and the community. As for my-self, there’s no place like home. To quote the sing-er John Mellincamp, “I can not forget from where it is that I come from. I can not forget the people who love me. I can be myself in that small town. And people there just let me be who I wanna’ be”.

My Aunt Bonnie in New York once told me, “If you ever wash that Bluffton dirt off your feet, they don’t want you back.” I may never wash my feet again. “Eventually, you do come back,” she added. How well I know. I can’t think of any other place I’d rather come home to.

State of MindWritten by Jeannie Bunton


As the 757 began its descent I looked intently out of the window to see American soil for the first time in months. Our flight home was far removed from the rough flights into and out of Iraq in a C130. This is because many airfields in Iraq require pilots to make what is known as a combat landing. These landings are deliberate maneuvers intended to avoid possible surface to air missiles. As many soldiers can attest however, some are more similar to a controlled crash than a landing. Now my one-year tour in Iraq was over and we were only 20 minutes from touching down on U.S. soil. And for the first time in one year my conscience said to me, “Ok Jeff, you can relax and let your guard down, you’re home.”

It was this homecoming morning when I stared at the lights below in the early morning twilight that for the first time in my life I understood what Ronald Reagan envisioned when he spoke of a shining city on a hill. This understanding didn’t come to me overnight, however. It came only after nine years of military service, including operations around the world and studies at the American Military University. I’ve since often wondered what most attributed to Reagan’s understanding of this concept and at what age he realized it.

Throughout the flight home I had replayed in my mind several of the enemy engagements my platoon had experienced. I had completed 211 combat patrols as lead vehicle commander with the 101st Airborne Division’s Task Force Trailblazer. Our mission was hunting hidden roadside bombs known as IED’s on the supply routes with the objective of protecting U.S convoys from being ambushed. It was a dangerous, but vital mission that came with a price. My battalion lost two men who were killed in action and approximately twenty were wounded in action, including myself when my vehicle was destroyed and burned during an attack on our patrol near the al-Qaida stronghold of Baiji City. This casualty count does not include the many soldiers, both American and Iraqi, from other units killed or wounded in our area of operations during the tour.

I soon learned that combat has a way of forcing every man to contemplate his individual mortality. After each

enemy engagement, for example, there was always that first opportunity, whenever it arrived, for a sacred and private moment on my knees to thank God I was still alive. Another thing combat forced me to reflect upon was the freedom we’re blessed with in the United States. On this theme of freedom, one particular mission we conducted will always stand out clearly in my mind. Because the mission was classified, we had assumed it was another routine patrol, until we moved out. We then learned that ballot boxes for the upcoming 2006 elections were being secretly moved to polling places to arrive early and our platoon would lead the convoy as the route reconnaissance element. With two Appache helicopters providing air support to our left and right we led the convoy through our area of operations from Tikrit to Samara. It was oddly quiet in the lead vehicle that day and for obvious reasons. Our platoon had been chosen to spearhead the seeds of democracy in Iraq, literally. I will forever remember this mission when casting my ballot at the polls. In the end we met our objective that day with only a few deterrents and the mission was a success.

People around the globe understand what sets the United States apart from other countries and why it’s sometimes referred to as the shining city on a hill. I’ll never fail to remember the captive attention and deep fascination in the eyes of my Iraqi interpreter when we discussed America’s democratic process. It was his dream to help establish a democracy in Iraq that would cultivate openness and justice as our government does. I pray that he’s still alive and will one day see his dream a reality. Although there are now many promising countries that guarantee basic rights and freedoms to their citizens, it is America that was the first, and still is, the standard measure for freedom and liberty around the world. The five freedoms found in the first amendment of our constitution exemplify the liberties that distinguish our democratic republic from other governments. And our justice system sets the standards of equality for all nations to emulate.

Our freedom is a blessing, but it also makes us a target by those who do not value equality as we do and would like to impose their tyrannical will upon others. As a result of this reality we cannot omit the story of the fight for independence from this lesson on freedom. Freedom and the fight to sustain it cannot be separated. They are forever linked. If not for Memorial Day to recognize those who made the ultimate sacrifice in the fight for freedom, there would be no Fourth of July to celebrate our independence.

During the upcoming holiday let’s remember that our enduring fight for independence, which established the greatest country on earth originated with the following courageous declaration to a tyrant; “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.”

May God bless our nation and its leaders with the courage to uphold this declaration.

Written by Jeff FulghamPhotography by Colin Czerwinski


AMIGO’S, MEXICANBELFAIR TOWN VILLAGE815-8226MON-SAT 11-9 BLUFFTON BBQ**, BARBEQUE PORK & RIBSPROMENADE 757-RIBSWED THU FRI SAT 11-Whenever

BLUFFTON FAMILY SEAFOOD HOUSE**27 DR. MELLICHAMP DR. 757-0380LUNCH/DINNER MON-SAT 11-9

BRITISH OPEN PUB, PUB, SEAFOOD, STEAKSSUN CITY & SHERIDAN PARK 705-4005MON-SUN 8-9 SUN BRUNCH 8-1

BUFFALO’S, CONTEMPORARYPALMETTO BLUFF VILLAGE 706-6630LUNCH MON-SAT 11-4

CAHILL’S CHICKEN KITCHEN**, SOUTHERNHIGHWAY 46, 757-2921LUNCH MON-SAT 11-3 SUPPER THU-FRI-SAT 5-9 SAT BREAKFAST 7-12 SUN BRUNCH 9-3

CAPTAIN WOODY’S**, SEAFOOD, SANDWICH, SALADSPROMENADE757-6222 MON-SUN 11 - 10

CLAUDE & ULI’S BISTRO**, FRENCHMOSS CREEK VILLAGE837-3336MON-SAT LUNCH & DINNER

CORKS WINE CO.,CONTEMPORY, TAPASTHE PROMENADE, 815 5169MON 5-10 TUES -SAT 5 -MIDNIGHT

CORNER PERK, BREAKFAST, LUNCH, COFFEE, TEABRUIN & BURNT CHURCH 816-5674M-F 7AM-4PM SAT 8AM-3PM, SUN 9AM-2PM

DIMARE’S STEAKHOUSE & ITALIAN CUICINABLUFFTON RD815-6900TUES – SAT 4:30 -10PM

DOWNTOWN DELI, BURGERS& SANDWICHESDR MELLINCAMP815-5005MON-SAT 8-3

FUJIYAMA, SUSHI/ASIAN CUISINE BI-LO CENTER706-9907MON-TH 11AM-10PM, F/S 11AM-10:30PM, SUN 12-10PM

GUISEPPI’S, ITALIANKITTIES CROSSING842-8333MON-SAT 11AM-10PM SUN 11 AM-9PM

GRUBY’S, NEW YORK DELI OKATIE VILLAGE DRIVE705-4190 SUN-MON 8AM-8PM

INN AT PALMETTO BLUFF, CONTINENTALPALMETTO BLUFF VILLAGE706-6500 DAILY 7AM -10PM KATIE O’DONALD’S, IRISH AMERICANKITTIES CROSSING815-5555MON-SUN 11AM-2PM KOBE STEAKHOUSE, JAPANESE/SUSHIPLANTATION PARK757-6688LUNCH (EXCEPT SUNDAY), DINNER

LA HACIENDA, MEXICANKITTIES CROSSING815-4540MON-THU 11-10 FRI 11-10:45

Breeze Restaurant Guide

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MAY RIVER GRILL**, SEAFOOD/CONTEMPORARYMAY RIVER RD., OLD TOWN757-5755MON-SAT 5-9 DINNER TUE-FRI 11:30-2 LUNCH

MOON MI PIZZA15 State of Mind Street757-7007Mon-Sat 11AM-10PM

MI TIERRA, MEXICAN DR. MELLINCHAMP 757-7200MON-THU 11-9 FRI-SAT 11-10 MULBERRY STREET TRATTORIA, ITALIAN HWY 278 837-2426TUE-SAT 11-3 & 5-10 SUN 10:30-9

OKATIE ALE HOUSE, AMERICAN SUN CITY706-2537LUNCH & DINNER 7 DAYS A WEEK

SAKE HOUSE, BEST BUY PLAZAASIAN FUSION/SUSHI 706-922211:30AM-10PM, SUN FROM 12PM

SIGLER’S ROTISSERIE & SEAFOOD, SHERIDAN PARKCONTEMPORARY 815-5030MON-SAT 4:30-9:30

SIPPIN COW CAFÉ**, DELI SANDWICHES/SWEETS MAY RIVER ROAD757-5051TUES – SAT 7AM – 3PM, SUN 9AM – 2PM

TAVERN 46, AMERICANBLUFFTON ROAD815-2327MON-FRI 11AM-11PM SAT-SUN 9:30AM-9:30PM

OLD TOWN DISPENSARY, CALHOUN STREET837-1893MON-SAT 11AM-2AM SUNDAY BRUNCH

PINO GELATO CAFE, CONTEMPORARY, DESERTSBRIDGE CENTER837-2633MON- SUN 12PM-10PM

POUR RICHARD’S**, CONTEMPORARYBLUFFTON PARKWAY757-1999MON-SAT 5:30 - 10

R&D WINE BOUTIQUE, WINE & FOODBEST BUY PLAZA837-3747THURS TO SAT, 11:30AM TO 9PM

RUAN THAI CUISINE, AUTHENTIC THAI BELFAIR TOWN VILLAGE706-3636M0N-SAT 11-3 LUNCH -MON-SUN 4:30-10 DINNER

THE COTTAGE, BREAKFAST & LUNCHCALHOUN STREET757.0508BR. 8-11AM, LUNCH 11:30 - 3PM, SUN 8-2PM

THE VILLAGE PASTA SHOPPE, ITALIAN DELI 10 B JOHNSTON WAY (across from Post Office),540-2095TUES-FRI 10AM-6PM, SAT 10AM-4PM

TRUFFLE’S, CONTEMPORARYBELFAIR VILLAGE815-5551DAILY 11AM-10PM LUNCH & DINNER

VERITAS RESTAURANT, CONTEMPORARY 163 BLUFFTON RD UNIT F. 815-6900Behind Bluffton PharmacyMON-SAT 5-10PM

VINEYARD 55, 757-9463CALHOUN STREETCONTEMPORARYMON-TUES 4-CLOSE WED-SAT 11-CLOSE

WILD WING CAFÉ, PLATTERS, SANDWICHESHWY. 278837-WILDDAILY 11-1:30 AM


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Take the Lowcountry spirit, combine it with a streak of eccentricity, and you get the energy and originality that comes through

loud and clear in Bluffton’s art.


HandsThese old handshave felt and done so much...So much...When youngThey were always readyClenched and proud.They held lifeAnd even deathAnd more precious still-Love.Now in ageMy faithful companionshave more linesAnd folds,more softnessLess anger.They have done so muchFor me on our journey together,And stillThey perform,Sometimes with difficulty,To touch,To hold, to offer prayers.These old hands.

“In the Wind”Selected poems and photographs

by Art Cornell

Email: [email protected]

Lasting FriendshipAfter all these years,What is there left to say to one another?I could not imagine what my lifeWould have been with out you.For sure the highs and lows Would have been a lot less interesting-And all the laugh lines on this old faceWould never have been.Oh, we are different people,And that’s healthy.Age has treated you kindly andHas even allowed a new warmth to appear.Of all the things in my life that I value most,Your friendship is surely one of them..


Born at the homeplace on Simmonsville Road, brought up in Bluffton by Oscar Sr, and Daisy Fra-zier, Oscar Frazier is definitely one of the original Bluffton Folk. That he has lived here most of his life, has a beautiful wife, Renea and four children and two grandchildren reinforces that designation.

And Oscar is very much a product of that upbring-ing. As a Town Council member, he is involved with the decision-making processes of the com-munity at a significant moment in our history. As the town’s Poet Laureate, he is closely tied to matters of the heart and soul of the Lowcountry.

Oscar has published two books of poetry, Poetic I and Poetic II, which reflect the course of his life-time and reveal the greatest influences in his life: his love of God, country, and family. Crafted over many years, his poems weave gentle smooth feel-ings about endearing moments and special peo-ple that have touched his heart. The reader be-comes immediately immersed into Oscar’s world through his cozy, folksy rhythms. In addition, the

poems offer a glimpse at the thoughts of a man who is possessed with kindness and a tender heart.

Among the poems in Poetic II is one entitled “What Color is Friendship?” This verse is based on a simple true story about an interracial friend-ship that developed in high school between Oscar and fellow track team member, Bailey Bolen. “He was the first close white friend I had,” said Os-car; as a young African American man, this friend-ship gave him an intimate understanding that peo-ple are not to be judged by the color of their skin, a philosophy that has followed him into adulthood. “I learned to accept people for who they are, not who I want them to be,” he adds with respect.

The poem “What Color Is Friendship?” is in the last stages of becoming a children’s book with the same title. “I’ve always wanted to write a children’s book, and to have this as my first is very special.”

Barbara Streitenberger’s fourth and fifth grade gift-ed and talented art students have provided the il-


lustrations for the verse. These M.C. Ri-ley students received separate lines of the poem to work with, and they have pro-duced artwork that is colorful and exciting. The young artists created their originals using an old African batik art technique; they worked with food dyes, cloth and a lot of imagination.

“We had black and white children working on this project. It was wonderful to see them working to-gether on such an important concept,” said Mrs. Streitenberger. That the children of Bluffton are continuing the notion of one of Bluffton’s own folk is quite a tribute to Oscar and the power of poetry.

Oscar’s life revolves around more than poetry and town council. He has plans to open a Bar-B-Q restaurant, and he will be doing the cooking. He is in the process of restarting the Poets and Writers and Storytellers Society, a local group he co-found-ed with Molly Carrington a couple of years ago. He is very involved with his church. On any given day, he may be making plans to visit family in other parts of the United States. But as a true Blufftonian, Oscar takes the time to stop what he is doing, visit a while, and always he will ask about your family.

Oscar has dedicated What Color Is Friendship? to his grandchildren. The book will be available the middle of March; watch for an announcement about a signing to be at the Hayward House.

What Color Is

Friendship?By Merry Lee Jones

Oscar was the poet laureate of Bluffton and passed away

in 2005


You are very much at home when you listen to Lowcountry Boil, Bluffton’s own bluegrass band. They have mastered the art of telling a good story with sweet musical clarity. Their folksy bal-lads are easy to listen to and sort of grow on you in a comfortable way. Their most recent endeav-or is a collection of self-penned songs that define the group’s style as fresh yet familiar. The songs have a traditional blue-grass sound with lyrics that reflect the times we live in. The CD is aptly entitled Born In The Lowcountry, and it will set your toe to tappin’as soon as you hear it. The title song, superb-ly written by LCB mem-bers Jevon Daly and Andy Pitts, is all about growing up right here. The lyrics are pure, simple and true (We can all relate to the “skeeters” eating our butts alive). The tunes on this CD are all downhome enough to be considered “modern day” folk songs, an honorable way to contribute to this rich tradi-tion. Whereas the roots of American bluegrass go back to numerous ballads derived from the early settlers, the music and lyrics of Lowcoun-try Boil remain true to the bluegrass style. Yet their songs mirror our every day life. LCB fist the bill as urban bluegrass contemporaries.

The lyrics on most of their songs are heart warm-ing, eluding to a more innocent time “when we were young, wild and free.” The instrumental and vocal harmonies become tag team partners, displaying the distinctive and inventive style that has been the hallmark of this group’s sound.

A couple of cuts on their new CD, “Girl That I’m Seein’” and “Muscle Cars,” both written by Rich Miletic, exhibit that traditional bluegrass “high lonesome sound.” The yodeling at the end of one of the tunes has all the feeling of some poor lad crying. These songs give the impression of what you might have heard years ago, crackling over the airwaves from an old bluegrass radio show. Jevon Daly has either written or shared writing credit on several of the songs. He puts words and music together as if they were meant to be. The songs, while being fundamentally bluegrass, are a mixture of musical styles. It seems as if he

says, “ Okay, how can we make the blues sound like bluegrass?” or “How can we work this jazz feeling into a bluegrass tune?” Many of Jevon’s tunes are bittersweet and have an intense bluesy fiddle, allowing room for all the instruments to have their perfect little fills and riffs.

One can’t help but notice the little dude in the derby playing the mandolin. Kier-an Daly has been playing since he was eight years

old (and that was only five years ago). There is a family tradition with fellow LCB members; Jevon Daly and Mike Daly are his brother and father. Kieran had the good fortune of sibling harmony instead of sibling rivalry. I guess you could say he was born with a silver pick in his hand. This is a blessing that will follow him all his life. He wears the black derby in honor of the late John Hartford, a musical legend best known for writing the song “Gentle On My Mind.” Kieran is such a magnificent talent that one can only repeat what was said about John Hartford years ago: “He is such a natural entertainer that one gladly suc-cumbs to the illusion that he is not even trying.” If you throw a compliment Kieran’s way, he blush-es at the praise, and says, “ I just love to play!” He has some razor sharp licks that he peels off on almost every tune. It is evident that he is doing what he loves, and he is very good at it.

From the “Hills” of the Lowcountry

By Merry Lee Jones


Lowcountry Boil is a unique group of musicians

featuring Jevon Daly on the fiddle, Kieran Daly on the

mandolin, Andy Pitts on the guitar, Rich Miletic on upright

bass and Mike Daly on the 5 string banjo. Each shadows the

others’ playing to perfection. Rich sings most of the lead vocals with Andy being the baritone and Jevon the tenor. Their selective material, exciting high lead trio harmonies, dynamic musicianship and entertaining stage shows have made many new fans of Bluegrass music in Bluffton.

lowcountryboilonline.com

For more information check out thier website at:Photography By Donna Huffman -CD Cover Courtesy of LCB

The quality of their style speaks for it-self. There is apt to be tre-mendous suc-cess in a ca-reer that has yet to peak. Lowcoun t r y Boil has set s t a n d a r d s of excel-lence-vo-

cally and instrumentally- that are diffi-cult for anyone in this area to equal.


Gardening Freedom in the“Well-Watered Garden”

By J. Mitchell Brown

Happy Birthday, America! If my math serves me right, you’re 227 years old this year, and for a country, that’s pretty young!Have your ever seen those programs on the Dis-covery Channel where they do time-lapse pho-tography as they build a bridge over two years and you can see the entire process in less than a minute? I wish I had a video of the last 227 years compressed into a couple of minutes from my vantage point over here on the “other” river. It’s sometimes hard for me to believe that some of these beautiful oaks have been around since be-fore this spot on the map was part of the greatest country on earth. How many times have the tides ebbed and flowed in 227 years? How have these sandbars moved? How many storms? How many trillions of fallen oak leaves every spring? With all that, I bet this place looks a lot like it did back then (sans all the houses). You have to admit, it sho’ is beautiful. I wonder what things will look like around here in another 227 years?One of my favorite characteristics about our little town of Bluffton is it’s sense of artistic style. It is full of people who have the mentality of true coastal residents - not vacationers or short termers mind you - but those who long for a life of relaxation, and the therapy of salt breezes. We have that sense of being laid back enough to say “This is how it is, and this is how we like it” that makes Bluffton so unique. Although we have artistic icons among

us like Jacob Preston, Nao-mi McCracken, and Bill Mattox, some of my fa-vorite artistic ex -p ress i ons come from a n o n y m o u s folks who show their style with “shabby-chic” designs. Just go look at Babbie Guscio’s store on Calhoun

Street - or Eggs-n-Tricities, for that matter - for the ultimate guide in style without boundries.I’ll tell you this much: there’s no bet-ter place to show a sense of shabby-chic in the Lowcountry than in a garden. (You thought I’d never come around, didn’t you?) Oh, sure, you can plant a flower in a nice painted terra-cotta pot and have it look pretty. A store-bought window box always looks nice. A properly hung flowering basket adds beauty to any porch-scape. But, did you ever consider planting, say,

hen-and-chicks, in an old leather work boot? How about some creeping vin-ca planted in an old ceramic urinal? Taking an old piece of wood that has floated up in the marsh, drying it out, and painting a


PHOTOGRAPHY BY DONNA HUFFMAN & DAVID HOWARDSPECIAL THANKS TO ALISON WHITE FOR SHARING HER GARDEN WITH US!

“In the United States there is more space where nobody is than where anybody is. This is what makes America what it is.”

Gertrude Stein - The Geographical History of America

“American liberty is a religion. It is a thing of the spirit. It is an aspi-ration on the part of the people for not only a free life, but a better life.”

Wendell L. WillkieSpeech, 1941

one-word moniker is a great way to express your-self. (SIMPLIFY is the one I have in my garden.)The truth is, a garden is what you make it. I have a friend who has an old hubcap he picked up on the side of a road bolted to the top of a movie turnstile that he salvaged from a dump. Add a little water and -voila! - a perfectly functional birdbath! My big sister has an old rotting oak trunk in her front yard. With a little imagination and some easy-to-care for colieus and purple-heart, she has a fine natural planter. A rusted out sheet of corrugated tin can be painted in any number of ways - or left alone for that matter - to create a backdrop to any patio or flowerbed. There’s no rule that says you can’t plop an old bathtub in your backyard and fill it up with some pretty flowers. (Well, there may be a rule somewhere, but there doesn’t HAVE to be.)Now, I know that this sense of style isn’t for every-one, and that’s fine. That’s the beauty about living in America. If you don’t like a potty for a planter, you don’t have to have one in your yard! It is im-portant to remember that a true garden is mainly for the enjoyment of the owner. If you cannot sit in your garden - whether it is professionally designed and maintained, or pieced togeth-er with trinkets and junkyard art - and be overwhelmed with

a sense of peace and tranquility, then all you have is a big ol’ watering headache. Regardless of how you design it, let your garden be your escape. On the Fourth of July, as everyone knows, there will be celebrations all over the Lowcoun-try. People all over will be headed over to the Island to watch fireworks, getting together in friends’ backyards to grill a few shrimp-kabobs, and headed out on their boats for some fun on the river. I’m sure I’ll see some of you out there, but, ya’ll be careful. And don’t forget about our boys and girls in the military that are on duty right now and are giving up the luxury of back-yard get-togethers so that we can enjoy ours.


What you have to say is important.We’ll make it shine.

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43 Goethe Road, P.O. Box 1266, Bluffton SC [email protected] 843 757-2612

Get Your Idea There FasterIn a world of innovation, one thing is certain:The better the idea, the faster you need to get itto market.

A public-private partnership, with the support of Clemson University, the Don Ryan Center for Innovation offers an incubator program that provides the resources entrepreneurs, inventors and small business people need to assist them in their quest for success.

The center offers space and resources, and links participants to intellectual property, technology evaluation, product development services, seed financing, business mentorships, corporate relationships and hands-on consulting support.

Located in Bluffton the Don Ryan Center for Innovation is the catalyst you need to make your vision a reality.

Interested in being a business mentor and working with one our

innovators?Please contact us:

Don Ryan Center for InnovationBuckwalter Park

P.O.Box 2277Bluffton SC 29910

www.ryan-innovation-center.com

843-540-0405

David Nelems, [email protected]

Connect with us and we’ll be delighted to connect you with our clients. Seriously. We believe they’ll tell you we’re more than just their advisors. We are really good listeners. Listening builds both understanding and trust. It is the key to any relationship.So call us to talk to a client or two. Or arrange a meeting and we’ll start listening to you.

We let our clients do the talking.





Breeze G o l f C o u r s e G u i d e




LUNCH Mon to Sat, 11am - 3pmSUPPER Thurs, Fri, Sat, 5 - 9pm BRUNCH Sunday 9am - 3pmSATURDAY BREAKFAST 7am - 12pm

1055 May River Road, Bluffton, SC1 mile west of the Old Town843 757-2921 www.cahillsmarket.com

A tradition unto itself

And may I remind youour menu changes with the seasons but we always

have your favorites!

A farm marketwith fresh produce

and a great restaurant serving amazing dishes

done the Cahill’s way.

Thank you for your support over all these years!

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The Bluffton Breeze January 2014

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