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Below are a few featured articles from previous editions of the Advertiser... _____________________________________________________________________________________________
July 8, 2009 This is a sampling of folks who live in our area and the story of their first car. These initial stories, we hope, will inspire other stories, which The Advertiser will publish over the next 6 weeks. Just send them in to the address in our masthead. Some editing may be necessary for space and grammar style of this newspaper. Ed. note JUNE MORGAN – Recently Wrecked his Red Scooter June’s daddy bought a ’51 lime green and black Ford Crushline from Heyward Booker‘s father, and June and his sister learned to drive in it after their daddy died. “We put chairs up in the front yard and learned to parallel park that way. We lived on a farm and I drove a John Deere tractor. One day my sister and I were headed to the Bouknight place between Trenton and Johnston and we had no gas, so we drained diesel out of the tractor and put it in the ’51 Ford. All of a sudden on the way that car started popping and chugging and we had to leave it beside the road and get our uncle to come pick us up. Mama didn’t have much to say about it, but Daddy sure would have!” BECKY TURNER – Community Leader Becky Turner’s love affair with convertibles began when she took dancing in high school. In her senior year, Becky’s dance instructor bought a “baby blue Ford Sunliner.” “It was absolutely gorgeous,” she recalls, “the teacher had ‘favorites,’ and she would drive about four of us to the beach in that car. We would be on the road crossing the bridge between Georgetown and Pawley’s Island. I remember the wind blowing my hair and the sun shining on the water and the marshes -- all things that I loved then and still do. Every time I cross the bridge today, I remember that wonderful feeling. I still love the spot.” Later on, Becky dated a boy who owned a Corvette convertible. “Of course, it was candy apple red,” she laughs, “and I love candy apples, and he was such a nice guy and he lived at the beach and our moms were friends – how could I turn him down when he asked me out? I quickly came to the conclusion that the red Corvette convertible had to be the best car made in America.” Many cars and years later, Becky’s dream car entered her life. On the way to shopping in Donalds two years ago, she saw it a mile away…a fire engine red ’65 Cutlass F-85 convertible...sitting on the lot, top down. But Becky talked herself out of stopping, assuming that it belonged to the business owner. On her trip back home, however, she couldn’t help herself. She had to stop. Her son Andy had told her which questions to ask if she ever saw what she wanted. So having convinced the seller that she knew what she was talking about, she told him she’d be back the next day with her husband. Becky recalls that it was a hard sell – sight unseen – but the next day, an hour before the car lot closed a test drive convinced both Becky and her husband that the love affair with convertibles was still on, and she drove that F-85 “singing to the top of my lungs all the way home.” JERRY BASS of Old McDonald’s Fish Camp (A man of few words – I’m sure he was busy…) Jerry Bass wonders what his ’67 Camero convertible would be worth today. “It was red,” he says, “with a white top and a stripe on the hood. My wife Jackie got pregnant the same weekend I bought the car. After that, I had to buy a truck as a family car to haul all the stuff around.” KEN DURHAM – Edgefield Mayor “My dad traded in his old truck for my baby blue ’65 Mustang. It had an eight-track player and no air conditioner. I was 14 and didn’t even have my license, but I made the payments because I had a job. Once I turned 15 and got my license, I drove it to school, to all sports events, to work and all over the peach orchards. I still drive in the orchards at night and the smell of fertilizers and peaches and a song by Creedence Clearwater Revival can take me right back to the 60s. “Later on when I was dating I asked to borrow my dad’s new Mercury Montego with air conditioning to go on a double date. I had a wreck and totaled that one. “In the late 70s my grandmother loaned me money to get what turned out to be one of my favorite cars – a ’72 Corvette. It was burnt orange with a T-top and AC. John Prince and Jeff Covar each had a Corvette, and we decided to drive to the Florida Keys. We made it as far as Miami and ended up having $15 between us to get back home. We stopped at the dog tracks, made a bet, won $30 and turned around and lost every dime. Lucky for us, we ran into Jimmy Shea and he loaned us $100 to make it home.” Durham didn’t complete that trip, but just recently rode his motorcycle 841 miles in 17 hours to finally get to the Florida Keys. Judy Adamick – Ridge Spring Artist In 1959 Judy and two of her girlfriends – all living in Connecticut -- headed for Hollywood in a ’59 silver-blue Chevy Impala. Their three fathers pushed them out of the driveway, Judy popped the clutch and they were on their way. Thanks goodness for a 4 speed on the floor. Once in New York, of course, the car died on them and the “garage man” said it was “the battery,” and they spent all their money on a new one. “We drove 3,000 miles – much of it on Route 66 - in a car with no starter,” Judy explains, “but we stayed in motels along the way that were on hills, so in the morning, the girls could push me down hill and I could pop that clutch one more time. “If we needed gas, we would tell the guys at the filling stations that we would buy gas from them if they would help push us off. Meanwhile we kept the car running, just in case. “We never made it to Hollywood, but by the time we hit Las Vegas, we had plenty of push offs and plenty of damage to the rear end of the Impala. “Our dads had a fit when they found out we had so much trouble on the way, but it didn’t matter to us. We had no idea just how innocent or ignorant we were.” Henry D. Wofford – Johnston Merchant and Musician In 1938 Henry Wofford bought his first car -- a used 1934, 2-door Chevy sedan. It was green and cost him $250. Two years later, he traded it for a new green, 2-door Chevy from Feagle Motor Company (now Herlong’s) and paid $510 for it. “Ten years later,” Wofford proudly says, “I sold the last car for $750. So for 10 years I drove cars that only ended up costing me $10. I call that a bargain. “I’ve always driven American-made cars, and I’ve never bought one on credit. Credit companies don’t know my name. I always paid cash because I’ve always put a little aside for the things I’ve wanted or needed. I saved and worked a lot of years. I started out selling clothes for Renneker’s in Orangeburg, and then had my own men’s clothing store in Johnston. A total of 58 years in sales. “I presently own a 2003 black Buick. I think black seems a little more presidential. And by the way, I’ve never gotten a traffic ticket. I’ve made sure of that.” Pam Long – Steele Justice Guitarist “It was just me and my mom and times were hard. She worked at the Dinner Bell Restaurant in Johnston, and I worked and gave her my tip money towards the down payment on a ’65 Ford Falcon. We bought it from Jim Satcher. It was navy blue with a white stripe down the side. I was 14 and thought it was a pretty sharp car. “After my mom died, I kept the Falcon throughout high school and finally traded it in for a ’71 Chevy Malibu. I decided to see how fast that car was and took off really fast. After spinning around in the road a time or two, I decided to come back to reality and didn’t try that any more!” Jim Satcher – Johnston Car Dealer Jim Satcher remembers rumble seats. He won’t tell you any stories about any of his rumbles, but he will tell you about his cars. “I’ve had all kinds of cars,” he says, “You name ‘em, I’ve had ‘em.” I was 15 and in the 10th grade, however, when I got my very own first car. It was a ’39 Ford Coupe convertible. Black. “Did Ford make anything but black cars then?” he wonders, “I figure they must have made only about one to three hundred of those coups, and I haven’t seen one like mine since I owned that car. I wish I had one like it now. Imagine what it would be worth today!” Carrie Monday – Local Artist Having toured every dusty back road in Edgefield in his first car, a Model T, my grandfather broke down in 1950 and bought the first purchased Henry J two-door, 4 cylinda sedan in Edgefield. My entire family thought it was the most beautiful thing on four wheels. Little did we know that we were lucky that it even had four wheels, as the car maker Henry J. Kaiser was forced to eliminate many “extras” to cut costs. The U.S. government had stipulated to Kaiser three requirements: 1) the car couldn’t sale for more than $1300, 2) it had to seat at least 5 adults, and 3) it had to be available for sale by September 1950. I am absolutely certain that my grandfather – I called him Daddy Sug – would never have spent $1300 for ANYTHING and if at least five adults had tried to get in, there would have been no room whatsoever for the steering wheel. And I’m sure if Mr. Kaiser had figured it out, there wouldn’t have been a steering wheel to begin with, as there was no glove box, no arm rests, no heater, and no way to roll down the back windows. In spite of all the inconveniences, the Henry J put me on the “highway to heaven” every time Daddy Sug shoved the back of the front seat forward and wedged me into the bench-like back seat that was covered in some sort of material that I stuck to in the summer and slid around on in the winter. There I sat. Tiny little bony legs freezing beneath my short, pleated plaid skirt. It was the coldest back seat I ever sat on. I begged to crawl up front with my grandmother, but she thought it unsafe. Of course, she thought everything was unsafe for me, and boldly informed my grandfather every time we climbed in, “Now, Sug, you know not to go over 35.” I watched her watch the speedometer the entire one mile trip up the road to Aunt Ruth’s house. Whoever said it’s “not the destination, but the trip” must have ridden in a Henry J, because even though those cold, one mile trips were lacking in so many things, they were warm and wealthy in attention and affection from the two people who loved me most.
June 17, 2009 by Carrie Clark The smell of rain on a tin roof and red-ripe peaches assault your senses on a hot summer afternoon at Cook’s Roadside Market in Trenton. For more than 50 years the Cook family has owned and operated – in the same location – a place where both locals and visitors from around the world have traveled to find some of the freshest produce in Edgefield County.In the early 1900’s, John Lawson Cook owned the present site. He had moved from Newberry County to Trenton because he stumped his toe on a boulder in the fields and said to his wife, “We’re moving to the sandy lands.” He later became the founder of the Johnston flour mill.John’s son Claude Cook opened “Cook’s Grocery Store” in 1951, where he sold goods to folks who were headed to work at the new “bomb plant.” He planted his first peach trees in 1958, but died in 1960 before he ever saw the trees produce any peaches.Claude’s two sons, Raymond and Larry, sold those first peaches that year beneath a tree on a handmade fruit stand, that looked like a “privy,” Raymond recalls, “and it had chains to let a small platform down where we placed the fruit. We sold out that first year.”Larry Cook says, “I’ve enjoyed doing this all my life. I never seem to do the same thing twice -- there’s always something different.” Visitors can find Larry filling up bins, talking to customers, instructing grandchildren on how to sell and anything else that needs to be done. “This is definitely a family business,” he notes, “there are three generations working for Cook’s doing everything from sales to field work.”The business has a wide-spread reputation for friendly service and excellent products, and has been featured in Southern Living magazine, Brandon Wilde’s Potpourri magazine and in The State newspaper.Cook’s has been a Certified South Carolina Roadside Market for a dozen years, and visitors will tell you, “Their food is always fresh, always delicious. It’s fun to stop and visit and take good food home to eat!” They will also tell you that Cook’s is a convenient place to shop. They are open seven days a week between Memorial Day and Labor Day from 8:00 a.m. until 6:30 p.m. They accept MasterCard, Visa, Discover, and just recently made EBT an option to purchase.The Cook brothers have come a long way – from shade tree farmers to producers of more than a dozen food items grown on their properties; everything from peaches to strawberries, from corn to okra. Raymond attributes their success to good customer service and telling the truth. “When people shop here, we tell them the truth. Everyone wants to know if we’ve grown all this, and sometimes in the early season we’ve had to buy some things just to have them on the shelves. But eventually, our crops come in and almost everything is fresh from the fields. Our business has been built on the truth.”
June 10, 2009 The story of Edgewood, home of Francis and Lucy Pickens, which was moved to Aiken in 1929, was being filmed in Edgefield Recently -- first at Halcyon Grove and then at Oakley Park. The following are scenes from that filming. The full story is carried in the June 10 edition of the Edgefield Advertiser. pic Ciara Lee Chaltas poses for the camera to show a ribbon decoration in her hair. She plays Lucy Pickens as a young woman in the Edgewood film. pic Jim Anderson plays Francis Pickens and gets made up by Judith Goodwin who does the voice overs for the movie. Helping her is Juanita Palmer who plays Lucy's friend and maid who came from Texas with her, Lucinda Holcombe. pic This scene, the death of Francis Pickens, is being filmed in the parlor of Halcyon Grove.
June 3, 2009
May 27, 2009 Even thought they celebrated a day early, no one seemed to mind, as Mrs. Jennie Lou Adams marked her 79th year last Sunday. Family and friends filled Moore’s AME Church and only positive words were spoken about Mrs. Adams and her lifetime of devotion to everyone she knew. Dressed in white, with a dazzling hat, Mrs. Adams greeted everyone with a smile and kind words. She sat patiently as eight of her children and many of her grandchildren and friends each spoke of their times with her and how she had influenced their lives. One daughter recalled that “in spite of all our mishaps, she stood by us. And what’s more, she’s still cooking for us all and we thank God for that!” Mrs. Adams was referred to by family members as “the rock of this family,” as “the glue that’s held this family together,” and she was “a mother to everyone.” One thanked her for “being both our mother and our father.” Another speaker noted that Mrs. Adams had taken care of him when he (Jimmy Winn) was a child and stated that he “probably loved ‘Lou’ more than his own mother.” One son-in-law reported that Mrs. Adams said to him that if he ever left his wife, to come live with her. In one of her grandson’s poems, which he read to the audience, he said that her “heart was as big as the moon.” Both the adult and junior church choirs, in loud and strong emotion, sang some of the family’s favorite hymns. Songs like I’m So Glad and I Just Can’t Give Up Now were said to reflect Mrs. Adams’ life, as she was always glad about things and she wasn’t willing to give up on anything or anyone. Minister Luther Garrett of China Grove Baptist Church said, “Mrs. Adams, you just go on, just keeping on working for the Lord. I commend you for keeping on being faithful to the Lord.” He wished her many more happy, healthy, wonderful, and beautiful birthdays. Finally, the entire crowd of well-wishes gathered at the Aiken Electric Building for an abundance of refreshments and continued celebration of Mrs. Adams’ birthday.
May 20, 2009 A beautiful wind-swept cemetery and a bright spring day were the setting for the unveiling of the second historical marker in Ridge Spring, a project of the Ridge Heritage Association. President of the Association, Jack Tiller of Johnston, opened the ceremonies at the Ridge Spring Cemetery with a welcome, followed by an invocation by Pastor Charles Koons of Johnston. Jerrold Watson, whose family is well represented by many buried in the cemetery, including the walled area which houses mostly Watsons and Boatrights, gave a history of the cemetery as well as sketches of two who are buried there and are given special recognition on the marker. They are W. H. Scarborough, renowned 19th century portrait painter and Sarah Pressley Watson, Ridge Spring native, who served the Resistance during WWII as well as the Faculty of Arts and Letters of the University of Paris. A cluster of descendants of many of those buried there were present including Watsons and Boatwrights, with a special guest of Jerrold Watson, his sister and brother-in-law Mary and Jesse Black of North Carolina. Their mother was a great-grandchild of Scarborough. Craig Stuckey of Greenwood, another descendant, was also present. The first marker to be placed in Ridge Spring by the Ridge Association is the one at the Jones Cemetery on the eastern entrance to Ridge Spring. Another attending the event who gave great assistance to the success of this commemoration was John Owen Clark of Johnston.
April 22, 2009 A bright beautiful spring day greeted the pod of five year olds and their chaperones last Friday as they prepared for a field trip into the wilds of Edgefield County. Chaperones, by the way, are defined, in this case, as grandfathers, mothers, teachers, fathers etc. that use the little ones as an excuse to get out and have a good time. The operations order for the day had us convoying out Highway 23 in search of The Country. Now every native of this fair land knows that 100% of the county used to be the country and we still maintain control over 90%, so looking for “The Country” seemed strange. Strange until we arrived at another hidden jewel right smack dab in the forests of Edgefield County. Farmer extraordinaire Robbie Hughes has outdone himself with this creation and I’m here to tell you go see this place. It did not take long after our arrival to determine that someone forgot to let the Easter Bunny out of the pasture as the little moppets from the Baptist Church School were soon loading Rabbit Deposits into baskets in an effort to keep Miss Stephanie from stepping on hundreds of them. And suddenly there he was! “The layer of colorful ovum” now playing photo op diva for all the small fry wiggles his nose and causes some chaperones to swoon. You gotta see the house at “The Country” which is designed based on every self respecting country boy’s specifications. As we descend the decks surrounding the pool the pavilion comes into view with enough picnic tables to seat a small army. This is good because our army was predominantly small. Following a craft session the herd of nippers advance on a herd of goats with corn in hand. Soon I observe my nipper, Gray, being chased by one of the bearded billys. “Turn on him son!” I shout knowing that Gray’s head is as hard as any goat’s. He did! I was right. “The Country” staff then gathered our progeny and moved out for the much-anticipated hayride that culminated with a hike along the nature trail. The brave Miss Sandy walked point and I took up the trail position. Hearing a great deal of chatter I quickly moved up the ranks to see what was happening and there, much to my amazement, was Miss Sandy in the lap of a forest creature. Soon younglings were all having their turn at the gentle giant but I chose to forgo the opportunity for fear of it getting back to the county’s coaching staffs. The luncheon provided after the extensive hike hit the spot. Shonda, mother of Chuck, feeling sorry for me, offered to fix me an additional tube steak. I graciously declined out of respect for my svelte figure. It was time to depart, what a great day was had by all. Gray and I headed off up the hill with the goat close behind urging us on to departure.
April 22, 2009 Mrs. Willa Lanham, the driving force behind March for Parks/Earth Day Expo, a fundraiser-festival held on a given day in the spring each year to benefit Bettis Academy restoration, was feeling pleased with the happenings. She was happy with the weather that nature bestowed on those gathered – not too cool, not too windy, and sunny and blue. Friday night, the big fish fry event, did not offer entertainment this year. The enjoyment seemed to be experienced in a deeper way this year, according to Lanham. She said folks talked about the gathering being a homecoming for them – remembering years before when Bettis Academy held such events. As cars drove in and families spilled forth, Mr. and Mrs. Wilmer Davis of Augusta offered hot coffee and buns, a tradition they started years ago. Edgefield County Hospital and DSS were sitting side-by-side with their tents having been set up earlier in the morning. Across from them were various clubs and groups selling items. All were anticipating the parade to come. There were motorcycles, cars, politicians, church groups and a beauty queen – the ingredients for a memorable parade. The earliest event of all was the “march for parks,” an actual walk around the park on their paved walkway, promoting health and a wonderful day of fun.
April 15, 2009 Two weeks ago the Edgefield County Senior Center held an Easter egg hunt for the entertainment of the seniors, by inviting W.E. Parker kindergarteners to search for eggs at the Center. This past Thursday it was the seniors doing their own hunting for eggs, and they were not ordinary eggs. Each egg held money. The seniors were supported by members of the Senior Center Board and members of the County Government who volunteered to walk with them as they made their search There are several seniors who are blind, but that did not deter their filling their bags with eggs. Some were in wheelchairs or supported by walkers, but they were not held back by the disability. Their companions helped in the search and all of them returned to the great room to open the eggs and find their “loot.” Silver and golden eggs were found by Mattie Mitchell and Robby Brown, and each held more money than the brightly colored eggs. Everyone was elated as they poured their coins on the Easter-egg-colored cloths covering the tables. It was a good time had by all!
April 15, 2009 Morris Holmes, driver, and passenger, Joe Hall, were photographed last Thursday as they left the site of the Edgefield County Food Bank, directed by Mrs. Eleanor Crim. They were finishing their duties for the day. A load of food had come in and this crew were disposing of the boxes. The food is housed in the First Baptist Church of Johnston and serves our area of needy families. On the back seat was Bill Lee, not pictured, but one of the three who help Mrs. Crim. I Remember by Micki Kluge of Virginia Beach, Va. April 15, 2009 A note from Ms. Kluge: “I have enjoyed your series of articles on this subject and look forward to more. Then, out of the blue this notion struck that I might offer this different slant for you . . . Thanks for the memories! Especially of Dr. Curly Watson, a friend and former employer, the very best!” I remember growing up in Edgefield County where cranking the Model T. Ford meant that we helped to push it downhill until it choked and coughed to start, then chasing it to jump on the “running board” and climbing up on the seat. Now that cars start with the turn of a key and speed instantaneously past the legal limits, “running boards” are obsolete. The number of friends and family members that shared so many such events have dwindled down to a precious few to share our recollections. Today’s economic challenges triggers special recall for us who are dinosaurs (not yet quite extinct) of 1929’s Great Depression. Innately optimistic, I do not wish to portray any such dire parallels, but instead, to see them as the obsolete running boards. Though I was quite young a the time, a family tragedy left an indelible imprint on my memory. My Dad’s thirty-one-year old brother, having just mortgaged his farm home to buy new equipment for his lumber business, died as his new truck crashed on Highway # 25 en route to Augusta from Trenton. His life insurance had lapsed just three days before, so his beautiful young widow, mother of an infant son, another at three, and a seven-year-old daughter, plus his mother-in-law, was forced to move into a house o Dad’s farm. With eight children of their own, and four other boys that they had “adopted” earlier, my parents helped in caring for a number of his young siblings. Families of his sawmill employees shared the farm work; their elderly parents were welcomed to live on the place where impaired heath retired them from sharecropping for other local farmers. Dad’s mantra seemed to be “always room for one more.” Through the years that followed the “rash,” there was a steady stream of transients who roamed the countryside in search of jobs, or handouts for survival. Our house was two miles from the paved highway, yet they found their way to our place. Eventually, we were informed that special markers were set to guide the starving strangers to my mother’s generous kitchen. Her nursing skills alerted her to offer herbal remedies for various ailments as she handed out quilts, pillows, and blankets with directions to the haylofts, or cotton bins in the nearby barns. Some of the bys escorted those too tail to lug their bedding. She would send one of the boys to summon the overnight guests to come for breakfasts of her homemade biscuits, slabs of ham, or sausage from the smokehouse, served with fresh scrambled eggs and a hefty serving of hominy grits. Home churched butter, fruit jams, or preserves, milk or coffee was always plentiful. Since Roosevelt’s rural electrification had not yet reached out neck of the woods, Mama cooked everything on a huge woodstove. No one ever left our house hungry. Most of them were handed extra food supplies to “tide them over” as Dad drove them back to the main roads. If Mama felt that their health warranted more recuperation, she would suggest that they stay put for a day or so to build their stamina for journey. Tuberculosis was rampant as one of many pertinent challenges during that era. I marvel at the lack of fear of the strangers seeding aid during those years, and the generosity of my parents, and their peers. Since their faith in “the Lord’s supply” never waived, we grew up with the proof in its premise. I cherish the discussions that lent credence to my father’s stewardship. “When I complete my earthly tour, I know that I must pass my Master’s judgment. So, while I’m here, I try to see each person that encounter as though each one may be the Master in disguise. On my day of reckoning, I hope that He can say to me, ’When I was thirsty, you gave me the water of life. When I was hungry, you shared your bread. When I was tired, weary, or dismayed, you gave me compassion and comfort. Well done, my faithful servant.’ In the meantime, He blesses me with abundance, companionship and the gladness of sharing Life.” As stewards of the gifts God provided, Lillie and Boyd Cato gave us protection in a home that was never locked. The world may be more sophisticated today as the rules of behavior have contaminated our environment. Nostalgic and naive as it may sound, I wonder as we face an uncertain future, could we dare hope that Christians could replicate my parents’ behavior, and survive such an economic crisis?
April 15, 2009 For the past few years a hummingbird, we affectionately call “Phat Bird” has shown up at our back porch to guard our three hummingbird feeders. He sits on the railing under the feeders and fends off any other bird that comes to try to eat. Eventually he gets over run but he still thinks he owns the backyard. Submitted by Erin Spiller of Modoc
April 1, 2009 A short trip north in Edgefield County brings you to the home of Mrs. Margaret Phillips the mother of Marcus Phillips who graduated from Strom Thurmond High School just two years ago. As you read this column Private E-2 Marcus Phillips is repairing Chinook Helicopters in Afghanistan. “Honestly I didn’t think you would want to do a story on a hometown soldier,” wrote young Marcus Phillips when we first started corresponding. Little did the Private know that he had stumbled upon someone who had spent half of his life associated with the United States Army. Marcus’s current residence is a 7X7 cubicle in what is called a B-hut. Reading his e-mails suggests that GI ingenuity has once again prevailed and his quarters have been modeled to fit his taste in terms of décor. He probably has one of the more up scale 7X7s since his favorite teacher at Strom Thurmond High School was Mr. Lewis Burt the building construction teacher. Private Phillips is a member of Delta Company 7-101 GSAB making him a Screaming Eagle. Being a soldier was a childhood dream of the young Edgefield County citizen. “I never thought I would actually do it,” writes Marcus. After 27 weeks of training, 3 months CONUS with his unit, and 3 months in Afghanistan the private states, “I love it, the training was incredible and the structure is just what I needed to be a better man.” It does not take a trooper long to recognize a trooper and Marcus’s writing of the brotherhood of soldiers sealed the case on him. So, Private E-2 Marcus Phillips is a long way from home and his little six-month-old daughter. He works 12-hour shifts keeping the “Hooks” flying so that his fellow soldiers can be supported and looks forward to the day he gets to see his beautiful little girl. More about the deployment of Marcus Phillips in future editions. Hooah!
March 25, 2009 W.E. Parker was an exciting place to be on Thursday morning of last week. It was time for the big production of “The Jungle Book,” a drama in song and dance taken from Rudyard Kipling’s book by the same name. The stage was a jungle featuring bamboo, palms, a “canopy” of greens (made from green plastic that hung dripping over the players) and Tarzan vines blooming with large, “jungly” flowers. As the players came on stage, they fit right into the setting with costumes of jungle colors and headgear that gave evidence of their roles: there were monkeys, wolves, vultures, a snake (featuring a “string” of students), elephants and bees, as well as three important characters: Bagheera, a protective black panther played by Bailey Pedersen; Baloo, a loveable and clumsy bear played by George Williams, and Mowgli, the boy living in the jungle played by Ethan Rudd. The bear and the panther are out to protect Mowgli from the fierce lion, played by Titus Bean as Shere Khan. The play begins with the friends of Mowgli warning him against Shere Kian – “He hates man! Man makes fires!” And, so, all the animals, from the snakes to the bees, are out to help. Even the rocks and trees come to life in this jungle. It took some months to produce according to one of the directors, Angelyn Dorn. Cherie Griffin, another director, was applauding the parents for designing and getting the costumes made, as well as creating the jungle on stage. Shari Huiet, the third director was all aglow with the feeling of success when the play ended with much applause on Thursday morning. A second production was held in the evening, also. Both the school and the giving parents (and grandparents who were evident in the audience) are to be congratulated on a program that thrilled the students (as heard in their applause and laughter) and entertained the community of parents and relatives.
March 18, 2009 Harrison O. Hickman sounds a great deal like a PR name, one that will be special for this young man in his career; he already knows about Public Relations and handles it well. He found his way to this interview having with him his mission statement and anything else the press might need to give him coverage. And for what? The showing of his art – pottery. Harrison is a potter, and a successful one in that when he exhibited for the very first time, at AIkens Makings last year, he sold a great deal and was declared “far better” by some of the potters who exhibited with him. He is about to exhibit again, this time at the Aiken Arts Center on Laurel St. in downtown Aiken. The opening is on March 19 when he will be available to the public to talk about his art. The show runs through April 11. “I try to be humble about all this,” he says as he talks about his rather rapid move to being a successful potter, but he says he also has to show confidence in his work, which is selling and getting raves. Harrison began his interest in pottery years ago, at age 10, when his step mother gave him a box of sculpting clay to be fired in a regular cooking oven. With it was a book showing things he could make. He learned to make little figures and add a toothpick to hold the head onto the body, and to do the same for the arms. In that way the body parts moved. He spent three years enjoying this form of his art. It was not until he landed at boarding school at St. Andrews-Sewanee in Tennessee that clay really began to be a true art medium for him. At St. Andrews-Sewanee near Sewanee, Tenn., he took up pottery in the art department and moved quickly to throwing, for some people the hardest part of pottery making. He said he centered his mound of clay the very first time, and continued to “get it right.” It was so much fun that he would go to the pottery class in the evenings and work into the night. From there he went to the Savannah School of Design to study, but the course they laid out for him excluded pottery until the second year. That was a big No-No for him, not being able to keep his hands in the clay. So it was his father who told him he had found a school for him that might work, there being this Pottery Center in Edgefield, S.C. Harrison grew up in Pendleton, S.C., and Edgefield is not so far away. He took up his studies at PTC about a year ago, and took up residence in Aiken. This year he is living in Edgefield, in Kendall Village. This is a young man who has a plan, He does not want to stop here. PTC Pottery Center gives only a certificate; he gets no college credit. So, to do pottery and to get his college degree he plans to go to Clemson, where they have great pottery classes he says, an Anagama kiln (one that fires for 24 hours and wood has to be put on it every 30 minutes), a Japanese kiln that he wishes to work with. He hopes to get a business degree there so that he can balance his art with the pragmatic side of making money – a must he sees if he is to make it a real success. Here is Harrison’s mission statement. “My work takes advantage of memory within the clay. My purpose, my goals, my vision, my practice, and my discipline bring focus to my inspiration as I create new and exciting forms. Clay has memory and preserves what has occurred during its making. How an object is made, the mechanical working of moist, malleable, and fluid clay leaves forever instilled in a vessel the mark of the potters hands. The process of pushing clay outward in a rhythmic manner around a pots surface to create convex impressions leaves the viewer with questions and answers.” Those “questions and answers” can be uttered and listened to at the gallery opening on March 19 in Aiken.
In Spite of Freeze An Abundance of Blooms at Camellia Tea March 11, 2009 Old Magnolia Dale, that jewel of a house just down from the Post Office in Edgefield and home to the Historical Society, positively "glowed" on Sunday afternoon as it hosted the 2d Annual "Camellia Tea" put on by the newly formed Edgefield Camellia Club. It was touch and go this time, since the freeze hit most of the local camellias, not a killer freeze, but enough to darken buds so that they would not be presentable. Fortunately, Don Whatley and Henri Humphreys had arranged with the folks at the North Augusta camellia show to take whatever they had left, and it was a bunch. Local growers Nick Scavens, Clarice Wise, Sharon and Jim Brogden, Mary Ficik and Chet Nichols brought camellias from their own gardens which were lovely and "made" the show. Without a valid count, there were probably 250- 300 blooms presented, overflowing the various surfaces that were available, making it a true showcase of camellia blossoms. If one were interested in the nomenclature of camellias, there were identifying cards showing the names and distinctions of the various flowers presented. Magnolia Dale has seldom shined this glowingly. Carrie Monday did all the decorating for Magnolia Dale. If the showy blossoms were not enough to attract the many visitors, there was food which could be only be described as "delicious", "scrumptious", and "diet-breaking", all displayed on the grand table in the dining room, around which folks gathered. Tea was from the Charleston Tea Plantation and was poured by Mary Altalo and punch was served by Marie Mims. Many people, including Betty Rushin, the aformentioned Mary Ficik, Clarice and Marie, Sara Sears and Helen Feltham were involved in presenting the food, tea and punch. Many others brought food, sandwiches and desserts and the table was overflowing. The weather cooperated, a lovely early spring day, unlike the wintry blasts of a week ago, and the crew of Stephen Tillman who are currently restoring the front and back porches of Magnolia Dale did a great job in making it available for this glorious day. Several people expressed the thought, "if only Broadus Turner could have been here to see this," for he was not only a grower and lover of camellias, but he directed a part of his estate to the restoration of Magnolia Dale, a place he dearly loved. By Hal Irish
February 25, 2009 Dr. William Gamewell Watson has graced our pages many times, and here he is again, celebrating a 99th birthday today, February 25. We wanted to salute him with a few testimonials from those among us who know him well, and for a long time. As far as we know, this is a surprise for him, and with this surprise page come greetings galore from the thousands who love him. A selected few speak for them all: As a physician, friend and churchman Dr. Gamewell Watson is one of a kind. Whenever we asked him to assume significant leadership roles in the church, sometime in difficult times, he replied, “I’ve never said ‘No’ to my church.” He has been a mentor to his pastors, young physicians and for several generations of his family. After the rebuilding of Grace United Methodist Church in 1985, his professional partners gave the stained glass window in his honor which faces Georgia Avenue. I have been blessed by his friendship and his caring, compassionate manner has endeared him to patients in my family and throughout the community It is not unusual to find him pruning fruit trees at the old home place in Trenton, cleaning up around the pond or cutting the grass at his home by the river. It puts most to f us to shame. Dr. Watson has lived by the creed he has taught his family, his professional associates and countless young athletes: “Always do your best. Never give up. Room is at the top. Be a lady. Be a gentleman.” He has set his own best example which some may equal but none excel. Happy Birthday, dear friend! John M. Younginer, Jr. North Augusta, S.C. I have been one of Dr. Watson's patients for fifty years. He is such a caring person - always interested in your family and what was going on in Edgefield County. Margaret Harling, Edgefield Dr. Watson is a wonderful example of a doctor who has the ability to balance his expansive medical knowledge with his sincere concern and compassion for each of his loyal patients. Pam Beckum, Aiken I have been his patient for 55 years, and remain so. He has been a kind and gentle doctor. Also, he coached my husband Lee in football in the late 30s at Edgefield High School. Katherine Mathis, Edgefield
Dr. W. G. Watson By Mim Woodring ( Consulting Editor, North Augusta STAR) We met Dr. W. G. Watson in 1954 – he as the volunteer doctor for the North Augusta Yellow Jackets with his real specialty being obstetrics while we were beginning to cover football in a new weekly newspaper known as the North Augusta STAR. This week he celebrates his 99th birthtday and since he doesn’t want a fuss made it WILL happen. It all started when he would not retire at 80, University Hospital decided to celebrate his birthday. Every few years there is a party for Dr. Watson. Sam particularly admired his humility in all that he did for the community. Few people knew about the milk shake tickets. Cally Gault, the coach, was given tickets to give to players who needed to be encouraged or had done something that needed recognition. Cally also knew there were some players who had not eaten enough because it wasn’t there to eat. Peoples Drug Store sent the bill to Dr. Watson. No one will ever know all the ways this gentle man helped this community. He made a practice of a house call to all his patients who were new mothers. Buddy Key tells the story when he went through some tough days as a plebe at West Point. Frustrated and bone tired Buddy wanted to call home but he didn’t have a cent. He decided to made a collect call to Dr. Watson. Evidently the good doctor said the right thing. Buddy graduated from the Academy as an honor student. He’s not Dr. Watson for everyone. Close friends call him “Curly” and to the family he is “Papa Doc.” He is the only person to win the Sertoma Club’s Service to Mankind Award twice by the North Augusta Club. On the 25th anniversary of winning the highest honor the club gives, it was again bestowed on this man. What’s more he won the district award. In naming the winner, Kelly Zier said by this time he had delivered some 15,000 babies. He has been very active as a member of Grace United Methodist Church and certainly holds the record as an usher with almost perfect attendance over the years. In Micah (NKJC) 6:8 a question is answered . . .”and what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Dr. Watson has done just that . . . have a blessed birthday, Curly. Happy Birthday Dr. Watson, Words cannot express my gratitude to you for what you have done for me and my entire family starting with my Dad and Mom and ending with my children. There is no other Dr. in the world that could top you. You are the GREATEST! Much Love and Admiration, Beverly Huiet Burch & Family My father J. R. “Bubba” Moss, Sr., and Dr. Watson were in the same class at Trenton High School. He told us that he would have never graduated had Dr. Watson not completed his biology notebook for him. There were only three students in the class and Daddy would laugh and say that he had graduated third in his class. He and Dr. Watson remained life-long friends. Dr. Watson has told me many times how much he loved coming back to Trenton and socializing with his friends. My father, my mother, Margaret, Mary Alice and Gene Mathis, Mac and Jim Herlong, and Audrey and Dr. Watson have shared many Saturday night suppers together over the years. They always had such a good time when they got together. I wish that they could all be here to help Dr. Watson celebrate his birthday. Dr. Watson, always know how much you are loved and respected by the people in the Town of Trenton. We all wish you a very happy 99th birthday. Helen Summer, Mayor of Trenton Udder Ly Delicious March 4, 2009 (By Jack Reece) What a gorgeous morning as I wheel my trusty steed along Meeting Street Road heading toward an appointment with Watson Dorn who shall, from this moment forward, be referred to as “The Milk Man”. A turn left onto the Atlanta Highway and a short gallop west brings me to Faulkner Mountain Road where I execute a right face and proceed to the Hickory Hill Milk Factory. The sweet aroma of silage permeates the morning air and the black and white bovines truly portray the peacefulness of the South Carolina countryside I have been dispatched to Hickory Hill Farm to look into this news of old fashioned whole milk being available in the county. As is the custom with natives of this part of the known world a conversation in regard to the status of family precedes business. Cousin Susie is kin to “The Milkman” through marriage and her husband is a milkman also. I fondly recall watching cousin Susie’s children showing their cows at The State Fair. I knew what his first comments would be when he greeted me with the handshake of a man of the soil. “First of all I want to thank my mother and father for providing me with a great business to come back to and the hard working folks that operate the plant under the direction of Benjamin Holmes,” he declared. The Dorns got here in1764 and decided to stay a while with young Watson and his brothers showing up a couple of hundred years later. James Marvin and Maysie Dorn started Hickory Hill dairy farm over 50 years ago and now “The Milkman”, his wife Lisa and the children Daniel and Courtney continue the family tradition. Hickory Hill Farm is one of 70 remaining Dairies in South Carolina, down from 370 in 1984 when “The Milkman” was completing his degree at Clemson University. Mr. John McDowell enters the brand spanking new plant and heads for the cooler where he acquires a container of what he refers to as “the real thing”. One can clearly see the cream sitting atop the bright white milk that had not long left one of those gentle beasts that frequent the pastures near the milking barn. And so began the story of a journey that this young entrepreneur has chosen to take for all the right reasons. “I have had this on my mind for several years. The wife and I delayed making the move because the children were little, but last fall I went to the mailbox and found an article in one of my farm journals describing the process which I took as a sign that it was time,” stated “The Milkman”. Ninety days later, through the efforts of the dairy crew, neighbors, and a really smart “Razorback” the Hickory Farm Milk Plant was up and operational. So, what makes this milk so special? I shall try to explain utilizing my newly gained expertise: 1. This milk is not homogenized meaning that the cream still rises to the top and therefore it is far less fattening. 2. There is not one smidgen of hormones in this milk.3. It is pasteurized at lower temperatures that preserve the natural taste.4. The temperature of this milk is maintained at 36 degrees following pasteurization.5. It tastes so good you will not want to stop drinking.“The Milkman” is living proof that that the high tech world of agriculture can provide nourishment for mankind without relinquishing the essence of what Mother Nature meant for it to be. You can find it in convenience stores and supermarkets around and about the known world -- just look for the signs. I highly recommend a visit to the plant on Faulkner Mountain Road. Go get some Hickory Hill milk and take a look at where it comes from and how it gets into that bottle. You will not believe how good it tastes and young folks need to know that there is no such thing as pasteurized milk trees. Now I must go wash this chocolate milk ring off of my lips and chin. By the way, the cows were very well behaved. I did not see one single “eat mo chiken” demonstration.
By: Lisa McGee With the economic problems facing our world today, I’ve found myself in search of a weekend job to assist in making ends meet. Growing up on a farm and working chicken-houses was a life I left behind and had no intention of ever doing again, but here I am. When I was much younger, Papa would say, “It’s time to go to the chicken-house.” I’d reply, “I don’t want to pick up eggs today.” He’d give me a stern look and say, “You are going to have to do what you don’t want to do throughout life.” Not me I thought, I’m going to do what I want to do. Now thirty years later, I find out he was right.As I walk down the isle of the chicken-house, I blame the government for my presence among ten thousand chickens. I silently laugh at the thought of, “I’m the government to these chickens.” Here I am taking their hard earned eggs and controlling their everyday lives. Just as I’m thinking, “I’ll be the best government these chickens have ever seen,” I get attacked by a rooster. After I fight him off, I stand there scared as thousands of chickens watch one of their own try to assassinate the government. All the chickens stand there looking at me as if I’m a piece of corn on the cob. As fear takes over and I realize there are quite a bit more of them than me, I do what any good politician would do, I start talking. I tell the chickens how I’m only here to collect their chicken money called eggs and then I’ll be out of their way. “I’m only here because this is what the man up on the big hill told me to do.” I hear the chickens chirp in a language foreign to me. I turn and walk away sure that my political tactic will make a positive effect with my next trip into the chicken-house.
Sept. 26, 2007 (by: Lisa McGee) As we prepared for a trip to the flea market to sell some over stocked household items, a box of history was discovered. The box appeared to be as old as the history within it; crumbling pieces of the box fell on the table as I opened it. I was overtaken with amazement at the sight of 12 glass negatives. I had never seen such. Being a printer for The Edgefield Advertiser, dealing with negatives and picture reproduction with every issue of our newspaper, I just had to know more about these ancient negatives. I asked my very dear friend who owns the negatives how she came about them. She and her late husband had purchased a mobile home near lake Marion years ago. As she prepared the home for their use, she discovered the box. She said, "I never knew what they were, I just knew they looked important. I put them away for safe keeping and never paid mind to them again until now." I held the negatives up to the light and saw buildings, signs, and people. A passion grew within me to reproduce these pictures and discover the history within them. As I searched through the small box, I noticed some paperwork. The negatives were from Canton, Illinois. There lye company letterhead from a company named Hainline Sign Works dated August 5, 1913. There was also an envelope in which the negatives had been purchased from Lane's Photo Shop which was located in Canton, Illinois. The cost of the glass plate negatives were ten cents each. I looked closer into the glass plates with a magnifier. The detailed pictures were astonishing. My theory was that the Hainline Sign Works company would have pictures taken of the signs in which they produced for the local merchants. Within these pictures of signs were buildings, people, and even automobiles. There were signs and the structures of Baldwin Pianos, Adams Pianos, M. W. Rafferty Company, (a cigar factory), Canton Candy Kitchen, Anheuser-Busch (St. Louis Beer), Pfister Dean's Havanas (The $500 cigar), Coca-Cola, and many more. One of my favorites can be seen below with the Hainline Sign Works company and a gentleman in a car. My assumption is the gentleman being the company owner. Further research is in the make with a trip to Canton, Illinois in the near future. Through research I've done on the internet, library, and antique professionals, I've made some grand understanding of these images. The negatives were used during the early 1900's. The town in which these were taken, Canton, Illinois, was founded in 1825. In 1975, this town was enjoying its Sequicennial. The evening of July 25, 1975 the year long festivals were dimmed with a devastating tornado, bringing much of the city down in destruction. I had the negatives checked by an expert antique appraiser, and discovered the negatives aren't of great value, the images within are. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| P. O. Box 628, Edgefield, SC 29824 • Phone: (803)637-3540 • Fax: (803)637-0602 Email: webmaster@edgefieldadvertiser.com | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Located in Edgefield, SC, home of Strom Thurmond and many South Carolina Governors. We report the local and national news of relevance, cover sporting events and offer sports scores, stats, statistics and opinions. We offer editorial comment and point of view. |
