Good Neighbors
It was the pie placed in our refrigerator, mind you, that gave us the first clue that we had landed in a neighborhood you could call friendly. After scanning the kitchen, full of boxes from our move, I found the note that confirmed what I thought I was seeing: someone had actually brought us a pie—and gone ahead and placed it in our fridge. We still maintain an open-door policy in the same neighborhood. This means my neighbors have seem me and my kitchen floor in every state of disarray. They have had to step over art projects and remnants from my three year old’s most recent costume change, but it also means our neighbors have become our friends. This is not something I take for granted or find is very common nationwide. And it means my husband and I are living once again like we did as children: on a friendly street, where everyone knows everyone else, where the children actually play outside and with each other. A nice place to live depends upon very many things. But one of them, I’m convinced, is the gumption of the very friendly—noticeable down here in the South—what it takes to open a stranger’s door and place a pie in the fridge.
Jennifer Baker

The Bridges
What I miss most—and love best—about Charleston are her lovely bridges and the often spectacular views from them. My 30-year Lowcountry journey began at the College of Charleston in the late 1970s when King Street was not the mecca of “retail therapy” that it is today and where I slowly learned to navigate the “small-town city” of Charleston. Every time I’d cross a bridge to a new area of the Lowcountry—be it West of the Ashley, James Island, Johns Island, or one of the beaches—I’d realize each area is sustainable on its own.

I love to cross over the Ravenel Bridge on a clear sunny day, but sunset is my favorite time for the most spectacular skyline views. I love to smell the pluff mud and see the marsh grass blowing in the breeze. Truly, the bridges of the Lowcountry and the views from them are what I long for and never tire of.
Julie McQueen

Ode to Charleston Magazine
I didn't want to read them; I even turned over the cover! It was going to be too emotional...but I did. From the boiled peanuts to shrimp and muscadines, you made my taste buds come to life. With references to the alleys, backroads, pluff mud, and Charleston’s hues, “a sensory feast” erupted. Oh Charleston, when am I ever going to “live” again??? I've been away now 20 years... Your odes made me sigh, smile, weep and remember...I must return before it is too late.
Nancy Blakeley

“Augusta’s Hero of Sullivan’s Island”
Sullivan’s Island was our annual family destination to the Lowcountry in the 1950s. Mama rented an ancient beach house from Mrs. Tillie Fleishman near Station 22. The house creaked and groaned with age in those days...but we loved it. Perhaps as a blessing, Hugo would later blow it away. Mama then rented the Edmunds & Smythe home on Isle of Palms which became our glorious beach front and boasted a joggling board on the porch. Mama’s grandchildren grew into adulthood enjoying summers there.

Every year, Mama cautioned all the children about the ocean dangers with the true story of “Augusta’s Hero of Sullivan’s Island”, Jimmie Dyess, who saved two Augusta women from drowning in the waters off Sullivan’s Island in 1928. Mama said that event began a love affair of Augustan’s for the city of Charleston and especially Sullivan’s Island. It is particularly notable that “Augusta’s Hero of Sullivan’s Island” earned both the Carnegie Medal for that heroic lifesaving event, and later was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for heroism in World War II. Marine Lt. Col. Jimmie Dyess, a Clemson graduate, was the only person ever awarded both those medals for heroism. And today, Augustan’s still cherish Charleston as “our home, too”!!!
J. Douglas Herman, Sr.