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If you think about it we are all a product of so many variables, not the least of which is environment. Somehow we all intrinsically know this, but are so often distracted and obtuse as to just how much a hometown or place can be a part of us. For me personally, I know that my hometown has etched a sort of brand on me. Charleston, SC is, like so many other hometowns, a fascinating and impactful place – especially if one grows up there. We are, to a large extent, products of the people, places and ideas we are exposed to – and yes much more.

Another important aspect of our humanity, if you will, coincides in importance to place and that is time. The era or moment we reside in a place has as much to do with our environmentally influenced self as the actual place. Logically, we cannot extricate time from place, as the one is so impactful on the other. For this reason places like Charleston have their own “shadow” or light to reflect on our selves. Charleston for the most part and until most recently was a place caught out of time and sync with the rest of the world. A sort of menagerie or capsule inextricably tied to the past and its history. There are many places like this, but none more fascinating or beautiful than the oldest city in America, my home town.

So, if the reader will bear with me, we will take a trip back in time. Back to a place and era when unfiltered dreams forged so many personalities, and to where the past met the future in a most interesting way. I shall for once attempt to be more brief and graphical in the presentation, for as anyone who reads here knows – there is no “short way around the barn” for me telling a story. Look back – and remember.

1861 To 1961 – Only A Hundred Years

Without giving a history lesson, perhaps Charleston’s defining moment came, like for so many places, at the dawn of a great and cataclysmic event – the beginning of the American Civil War. The Confederacy galvanized its separatist ideals with a preemptive attack on the Union garrison at Fort Sumter. One must capture both the gallantry and idiocy of such an event in order to fully see how it shaped not only a city’s aura, but that of the South for decades to come. Fort Sumter still stands as a defining memorial to the dual nature of mankind – brave and noble on the one hand, and fully insane on the other. The dream that once was the South, however naïve, did once live in near physical reality for some.

Fort Sumter Ablaze - 1861

A scant 4 years later, the whole of the South lay prostate and subjugated to a kind of vengeance so many defeated places have known. Still, in places like Charleston, old dreams die hard. So, as one might imagine, A young child is so heavily influenced by both the legends of the past, and the undercurrent of reverberating memory of what might have been. It is said that the citizens of Charleston held great galas and gathered atop the roofs to watch the ensuing battle, it is from this imagery that characters like Scarlett O’Hara were forged in the mind of authors like Margaret Mitchell.

Fast forward to 1961, and impressions on the mind of a generation. Not unlike any hometown, Charleston imbued many with this flavor of possibility and naivety. However, unlike most people Charlestonians clung unflaggingly for a time to something of an ideal - however false in reality. Imagine the tales told sons and daughters in such a place. In all reality though, the air smelled quite more fragrant way back when. One can only imagine the scent of it 100 years removed, yet much of the beauty remains as illustrated in the images below.

The beautiful but stoic houses of the Battery remain today just as they were in 1861. Imagine the town’s people gathered atop the porticoes and balconies to witness the bombardment of Fort Sumter.

Some places cannot be separated from their essence no matter what progress encrouches. The nearby plantations of the low country stand as a symbol of both gentility and also the elitist undercurrent we were all insulated from. A sad irony when the mask of beauty is hung atop a very ugly reality - removed extent until time catches us all.

All places have a center, an aspect so prevalent that every sense is tantalized by it. For the lowcoutry and Charleston this place is the salt marsh. Everywhere, the visual and aromatic aspects with the subtle sounds abide a sense of both tranquility and wonder.

So between the sea and tales of personality like Gentleman Pirate Stede Bonnett (who was hanged with his entire crew in front of East Battery), the horizon of the past connects dis-encumbered to that of the future in the soul of every true Charlestonian. There is no conjunctive way to express such ethereal ideas, images nor words reflect how all these stimuli effect us. Suffice it to say that a true Charlestonian would gracefull bow and be subjugated to the most intense personal insults, but then they would also fight the devil barehanded over a lady’s scarf. This is of course the way it was, while now even such lofty and perhaps noble ideals have succumbed to “modern” thought. Still, in Charleston there are the houses, always the houses - endless reminders.

Not old by European standards, but still the oldest conjunctive remains of ties to the rest of the world, so many things Charleston are the “oldest” this and that of America. And the churches, some of the most beautiful in America tie ideology completely - religion and rich environment - sometimes one and the same.

Spiritual and soulful, a walk through Charleston take us past one historic revelation and another. The religion of culture and spirit was and is alive still in quite a magical place. From the Dock Street Theater to a lone tree where George Washington tied his horse, as a child or adult it seems there is no foot of ground without a story.

A hidden world come full circle, the Citadel and the pride and tradition of South Carolina evokes thought and gratitude for those that came before and those who’s sacrifices we pray will not be in vain. Valor, pageantry, honor and tradition - as in so many places and hearts - is more demonstrative than we know sometimes.

Defined Personality

It matters little whether your hometown is the oldest or the most modern city, the impact place and time has on us is undeniable. There is also always an element of positive and negative in this regard, because just as we are human and dual - so too places have good and bad. Charleston when I was a child was magical yes, but beneath the crystal purity of idealism resided a naked and ugly truths we were all protected from in the 60’s. Racism, global conflictual lies and a many other perpetrations of the powerful resided there too. To an extent, our idealism was used against us, especially in the case of Vietnam and other catastrophic and Machiavellian contrivances. South Carolinians volunteered as so many did to fight for a dream that no longer existed. We believed like the Confederates did, that a call so dire could not be wrong or a lie. Now I think we find so much more delusion perpetrated on the faithful. Still, the fringes of who were were remain in such places - waiting there to be rekindled by another pure dream.

This sounds like regret to the average person, but history and the places where it resides the strongest are full of all human emotion. Regret, hope and beauty co-reside everywhere, and I am sure your home town is also full to the brim with man’s only true heaven on Earth - the heart’s vision spread out on the canvas of life. For my part, I take this everywhere I go - sharing beautiful pictures and thoughts with my loved ones. The best of things should be savored more frequently than murky negativity, but as people we are a comparative lot. One of those flowers at Middleton Place is pale in comparison to the light resident in a true love’s heart. My hometown provides the backdrop for my comparative journey always, I hope some will enjoy the imagery and the philosophical voyage too. If you ever get the chance, visit this wonderful place - but go slowly - it is a place meant to savor.