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Spring 2006

Feature: Happy Hunting

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Written By
Anna Evans
Photographs by
Peter Frank Edwards

With painted eggs and pint-sized guests, the Geer family celebrates the long-loved tradition of the Easter egg hunt in the garden of their ancestral home

Strolling along High Battery on the eve of Easter Sunday, a peek over the fence into Betty and Gene Geer’s garden offers passersby a midday treat awash in crisp whites and spring pastels. With the sound of young voices raised to holiday pitch, linen- and lace-clad youngsters canvass the grassy side yard, a revelry that may at first seem incongruous with the 170-year-old residence’s grandeur—one might expect a refined luncheon here instead. But today, a South-of-Broad version of the traditional Easter egg hunt is in full swing.

Bonnie Geer, Betty and Gene’s daughter-in-law, began the hunt five years ago when her daughter Porter was just old enough to toddle after eggs barely hidden in the rye grass. At seven, she’s in her final year as leader of the hunt—next spring, she’ll reluctantly hand that distinction off to her younger brother, Gordie. After all, in the Geer family, the handing down of beloved possessions is practically a tradition in itself. The family’s 23-room home has been passed from one generation of Geers to the next since Gene’s great-grandfather, George W. Williams, handed it down to his son, Henry Porter Williams, as a wedding present. Since then, three generations of the family’s children, including Bonnie’s husband, Gordon, have grown up there, while young Porter and Gordie find that Grandma and Grandpa’s house is among their own favorite play places.

“Charleston is so beautiful, especially in the spring, that I think residents have always made it a point to entertain out in their gardens,” says Bonnie. And the Geers are certainly no exception—for more than a century, this garden has played host to teas, luncheons, dinner parties, and even Bonnie and Gordon’s wedding reception. Bonnie finds it fitting that the youngest generation enjoy their own tradition here. “I want my kids to have fun here, to have their own connection to their family’s ancestral home,” she says. “With all their energy and curiosity, an egg hunt out in the garden is the perfect way for them to enjoy it.”

On this sunny afternoon, Porter and Gordie’s pint-sized guests arrive ready for the hunt. Bonnie calls the festivities to order with an egg walk, at which time the children dutifully line up on the far end of the lawn with eggs balanced carefully in spoons. At the sound of the whistle, they take off running for the finish line. A couple of cracked eggs later, one adroit little boy is declared the winner and the gang moves on to the egg-dyeing station, where the kids are fitted with tiny aprons and dipping wands. They’ll get to tote their creations home in the egg cartons they’ve helped make.

Meanwhile, plenty of refreshments are on hand in the sunroom overlooking the garden. The fare follows in the footsteps of the traditional high tea, popularly adopted by Charleston residents from their British forbearers. “We tend to do things more formally here in Charleston and really hold tight to our traditions,” says Bonnie. But in this case, formality makes way for tried-and-true child pleasers: the kids’ sandwiches are filled with peanut butter and jelly, a plate of raw carrots makes for easy eating, and the colorfully-iced cupcakes are irresistible. The adults help themselves to chicken and shrimp salad sandwiches, fruit and tomato salads, and deviled eggs dyed in festive pastel colors.

Finally, after much prompting from the youngest guests, it’s time to begin the Easter egg hunt. When given the signal, all the children line up eagerly behind Porter, who marches down the path to the lawn, pink basket swinging proudly in hand. Once inside the gate, children take off in all directions, and the hunt is on. With eggs secreted away among the azaleas, beneath garden benches, and even in the playhouse, each child’s basket is soon piled high with prettily painted eggs.

Sleepy and grass-stained, the kids depart, each clutching brimming baskets alongside their prized take-home cartons. The garden too shows the afternoon’s wear: a few trampled flowers, a smattering of eggs broken in the grass, a crumbling cupcake, but the Geers couldn’t be more pleased with the party’s success. “The garden should be played in, just like the house has been lived in,” Bonnie says. “The kids had a great time, and I hope this is a tradition they’ll pass on to their children.”