Tiny Turkey

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. The food, oh my goodness, the food! This is a holiday when all the family and friends gather and share their favorite foods. Turkey and dressing, mac and cheese, corn pie, green bean casserole, pecan pie and I could go on and on. Foods that we don't usually enjoy all year long... Except at Thanksgiving.

We start a month before making out the menu for the delicious, once a year, dinner. I say once a year because if we sample all the items brought for this meal, we are probably talking about three to four thousand calories. And you don't just eat once on Thanksgiving. You come back in the kitchen later in the evening and start all over again.

My sons and husband make requests for their favorite foods every year so I have to make sure that I make extra dressing for one son, extra mac and cheese for the other son and broccoli casserole for my husband.

And, some of our guests may request certain foods that they really liked and we try to oblige them. By the time everyone contributes whatever their specialties are and what our family has prepared, we have quite a spread.

Since our family generally “hosts” Thanksgiving dinner, we usually prepare the turkey. I love cooking the turkey. Sometimes I stuff the turkey’s cavity with apples and onions, sometimes I put sprigs of Rosemary under the breast skin!

I'm getting hungry as I think about all this food.

Anyway, one year one of my cousins decided that he wanted to roast the turkey so I said I thought that that would be wonderful if he really wanted to do it.

The big day came and we all patiently waited for this golden brown, fat turkey to arrive. And, arrive it did! My cousin rang the doorbell; we answered. In his hands, he had this huge turkey wrapped in aluminum foil on this enormous tray! “My goodness,” I thought. “That bird must weigh 25 or more pounds!” He came through the front door struggling to hold the turkey and made his way over to the dinner table. My boys gathered around him and waited to see him unwrap this bird and place it on the dining room table.

Slowly he unwrapped it.

“Hurry up,” I thought. “I'm ready to eat!”

Slowly, slowly he was unwrapping the foil that surrounded the bird.

And there it was—the tiniest golden-brown Cornish hen that we had ever seen. It could not have weighed a pound. And the looks on my sons’ faces were priceless.

They were as disappointed as they could be and then everyone started to laugh because he had really pulled one over on us! My boys couldn't stop looking at this tiny turkey ‘cause they had never seen anything so small. My cousin then went out the front door to his car and brought in the “real” turkey. It was delicious and moist and one of the best we had ever eaten.

All of this just set the mood for the remainder of this favorite holiday and we laughed, and ate and shared stories for the rest of the day and on into the evening.

And, guess what?

We all went back into the kitchen that night and started eating all over again! What're another three to four thousand calories anyway?

Do we have any more deviled eggs?

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours from us and ours!

Into the Woods

Ah—the smell of gingerbread all through the house when the holidays are approaching and your mom, aunts or grandmothers are busily baking and decorating those delicious delights! Just makes a person feel all warm and fuzzy inside, right? That's how it would normally make a person feel inside, but not so much where my story is concerned.

I love the story of Hansel and Gretel and how they overcame all the obstacles that try to destroy them—literally! So, when the play “Hansel and Gretel” was going to be performed by the second-grade class at my school... Yeah! Maybe “shy little ole me” might have a shot at a part in this play. Of course, if anyone would look at me my face would turn beet-red so how in the world could I ever expect to get a part in this sweet production? I would never speak in public and wasn't that a prerequisite for participating in a play?

The production team decided that they would hand-pick the kids that would get these rolls—not audition for them. I guess they felt confident that they could choose the best kids for those speaking roles and since I didn't speak... You see where this is going.

The big day came! We were to find out what part we were given... If any.

Hansel will be performed by...

Gretel will be performed by...

The Witch...

The Mom...

The voice announcing the roles was becoming more and more faint as it trailed off into the distance. Nothing. I thought, “What do you expect? You don't speak!?”

Huh?

Did I hear my name? Did I really hear my name? Must be a mistake. I didn't think there were any parts left to assign.

And then it was announced.

But it really was my name. I was an Angel... Along with 13 other Angels. It wasn't much of a part but... I didn't have to speak. I think the production team may have known what they were doing. NON-SPEAKING ROLE FOR A NON-SPEAKING CHILD! Hallelujah... Perfect! Not only did I not have to speak but I could get lost in the crowd. I could handle this.

The big night came. All of us Angels were dressed in beautiful long white gowns that our moms had constructed and beautiful silver tinsel halos. We were all backstage preparing ourselves - getting into costume, applying makeup, styling hair—when out of the blue a little girl with long blonde hair belted out: “She can't be an angel! Angels have blonde hair! She has brown hair”!

I froze. Everyone was looking at me like this “bad seed” was correct. “How could SHE be an angel?”

I didn't say a word but I could feel my face glow crimson. My mom continued combing my brown hair getting ready as she assured me that the angels have all different colors of hair so it was perfectly okay for me to be an angel... All the while in the back of my head I'm thinking, “I'm not worthy to be an angel. Angels have blonde hair.”

Time for my big entrance. Remember I said earlier that I thought I'd be okay cause I could get lost in the crowd? Nope! Didn't happen that way.

When at night I go to sleep

14 Angels watch do keep

Two my head are guarding

Two my feet are guiding

Two upon my right hand

Two upon my left hand

Two who warmly cover

Two who o’er me hover

Two whom tis given

To guide my steps to Heaven.

You see, each angel came, and separately. Oh, my goodness. Not by myself. Each of us entered through the forests and surrounded the sleeping Hansel and Gretel just like the poem said.

My turn came I to enter through the trees and off I go...

Through the trees...

With large wings and just when I think I have managed to maneuver those large wings through the forest... I'm caught! In a tree.

My wing... Is caught... In a tree... My wing is caught in a tree!

I looked out at the audience staring up at me. Oh no! I'm going to be here forever. Stuck in this tree. We were instructed on how to hold our hands so I knew I could not unclasp them to help release my wing. I could feel my face turn beet red. We started wiggling and wiggling and wiggling and all of a sudden after what seemed like an eternity... my wing was free! So finally, I was on my way to my position on the right hand. I planted myself firmly. Whew! I’d made it!

And before I knew it, it was over—my debut of my non-speaking role by me, a non-speaking child. One would think that a walk-on, non-speaking role would encounter absolutely no problems, right?

Stress of being a performer.

No matter how minor the role may be, problems can occur.

When the tale of Hansel and Gretel almost destroyed me, I thought maybe acting was not for me. But, what does a seven-year-old really know about all of this? I know the production was very stressful for me and even though I made it through it, I was going to have to think long and hard before accepting another acting role. Maybe when I'm much older?

So, when the sweet smells of gingerbread permeate my home, guess what I think of?

~ Jeannie Joyner

Bang, Bang. On the Door, Baby!

I'm a costume designer and I have been designing costumes for more years than I care to admit. And, I love it! Most of the time.

I have worked for many of the local theaters, schools, universities, and churches, but one theater stands out-- a theater downtown. (The theater season starts in the early fall and so do the “ghost” tours around Charleston. You can be a part of “ghost” tours other times of the year, but the fall lends itself to the tours.)

There are so many “ghost” tours in the Charleston area because Charleston has ghosts... ghosts... and more ghosts!  Ghosts in our old churches; ghosts in the old theaters downtown; in our hotels, our parks, and especially our cemeteries! Ghosts everywhere around the city-- pirate ghosts at White Point Gardens where they were hanged; criminal ghosts in the old jail where they were held until they were hanged. We even have ghosts and the outlying areas – the Summerville light! These stories send chills up and down my spine!

We all love a good ghost story once in a while and we always wonder—is it true?

Do you remember when we were kids at a party we would sit in a circle, holding hands and telling spooky stories until we would all get a good scare, scream, and fall over laughing!!  I sure do! So much fun!!

But—back to the “ghost” tour story.

One of those tours passed by the rear of the theater where I worked about once an hour—most of them at night. Right down the alley outside the loading doors. And, since I worked almost every night during the “season,” I got used to the stories being told till the hair would stand up on the back of my neck. Night after night; detail after detail.

I would listen through the doors that lead out into the alley, until one night I thought... “Hey, why don't I help this ghost story along?” There were chains hanging on the sliding doors so they could be secured until someone needed to load supplies into the theater.

What an opportunity!

So, with the support of my “most able-bodied assistant,” as the tour headed down the alley, we jumped at the chance to rattle the chains, moan and then scream. Everyone in the alley immediately became quiet as a “ghost” as they listened to our sound effects. Night after night the tour groups came through and they almost always stopped close by our doors waiting to hear any ghostly activity there was to be heard.

On this one particular night, we were busy with our costumes when another tour group came by. Ah-ha!!!

The perfect time to strike!

So, with my “assistant” by my side, we turned out all the lights and waited for the group to assemble outside the door.

And, strike, we did! As soon as the story reached its climax we struck!!!

Chains rattling, groaning and moaning, and when the moment was right, screaming at the top of my lungs. But this time it wasn't laughter that we heard in response. WE were shocked to hear screaming right back at us. We didn´t realize someone had a small child with them!!

Oh, my goodness, had we made a mistake!!!

We had scared this child until they were sobbing uncontrollably. The “ghost” sounds and the chilling ghost stories were more than they could handle. The parents tried to console the child but to no avail. Still screaming, the parents grabbed the child up and proceeded to head off to finish the tour.

Well, that little episode cured me... No more scaring little children! I felt terrible but you have to admit... It was fun!

~ Jeannie Joyner

Goin' Down for Real

“We’re going to Disney World!”

Where have you heard that before?!? Usually it’s because someone is very happy because something spectacular has happened to them!

Well, just GOING to Disney World is pretty spectacular to me!

I have a wonderful travel-buddy. She says, “You pick when we are going, you drive, you pick where we are gonna stay, you pick where we’ll eat.” Can’t get any better than that. Easy traveling with my ¨bestie¨.  She just doesn’t care. And travel we did! Whenever we could get a little time, we headed out of town... to Disney World; once we went seven times in one year! We never tired of it!

This one particular trip to Florida, we met up with our two sons and a couple of their friends. Now, I don’t ride all the roller coasters or the “death drop” rides. Don’t really like them. Never did! We all decided to go on the “The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror".”

Or so they thought...

For those of you unfamiliar with this ride—you get strapped into a seat in an “elevator” with a group of people, doors close, you sit and wait to be dropped (and scared to death)! Thirteen stories high!

Now, why would any sane person do or even want to do this???

And, it happens not once...

Not twice...

Not thrice...

But, numerous times!

And... we actually PAY for this!

We had our sons believing that we were gonna ride “this monster” but in reality, we were gonna go through the line, get all the way to the ride entrance... and take an alternate way out—through an “exit” elevator.

Good idea, right?

We were waiting forever in the line just to convince them that we were very serious about riding “The Tower.” Those lines can be 1 or 2 hours long and sometimes even longer. Well... we got all the way through the line... and, there (you could almost touch it) was the entrance to this “death drop”.

Almost there... Almost...

Then the ride attendant walked up to us and he said, “We have these ladies here (real cute teenagers, skimpy outfits, very buxom, giggly... you get the picture) who have been separated from their parents and they are trying to get to the front of the line to make sure they can ride the ride with them!”

“Do we look stupid?” I thought. But, being the kind Charleston people we are... “Sure, go on through.”

So, our wait becomes LONGER.

We watched this guy escort these “ladies” to the front of the line. Guess what? That’s right, folks... No parents! Does that surprise you?

So, my friend and I thought, “How can we get back at this guy?” “Well,” I said, “when we get in the ‘alternate elevator’ ride exit, I’m gonna scream like I’m riding the real ‘death drop.’” She agreed.

Our turn came and yes, our sons were disappointed that we didn’t ride with them but they understood. This “Donovan” opened the “alternate elevator exit” doors and we proceeded, with others, into the elevator.

Doors closed.

We all exchanged pleasantries. And, then the elevator button was pushed. As soon as the button was pressed, and the elevator started the descent, we both grabbed hold of the rails like we were falling and I let out a blood-curdling scream—not a wimpy scream... I mean a loud, resounding scream—remember we are all in a tiny elevator.

The scream lasted all the way down—till the elevator stopped.

As I watched Donovan, he also had grabbed the rails—like HE was falling.

Remember the old-fashioned cartoons where the cat is flat up against the wall and its hair is standing up all around its head?!

DONOVAN! Yep, that was Donovan!

He had no idea what had just happened. Doors opened, we let go of the rails, we exited—first—and behind his white face and “bug” eyes, he starred at us all the way out and never said a word.

I can still see him standing there wondering what had just happened. And, the other people in the elevator—they may still BE in that elevator.

As we strolled out through the gift shop and around the corner, we burst out laughing. I´m sure Donovan had no idea why that had just happened, but the look on his face was satisfying for us.

Petty maybe, but it gave us such satisfaction knowing that we had gotten our revenge on this “dude” who was sure that he had pulled one over on us.

Honey – he met his match that day!!!

~ Jeannie Joyner

Hugo

“Hurricane season.” Who could get excited about those words?

Well, I did. As a child when you were told that a hurricane was approaching the coast… party time! That’s right, folks. A Hurricane Party.  

How many of you remember or participated in such?

Well, my father never believed in leaving town just because a hurricane may hit the Charleston area. Who ever heard of that? You would hunker down and ride it out. No matter what. That’s what we were taught. That’s what we did.  

Off to the store, stocking up on party food, putting ice in coolers, getting batteries, stocking up on water, etc. You invited all your friends, family and neighbors to wait it out and see what track the storm might take. Really hoping that it wouldn’t hit but come just close enough so we could get out of school for a day or two.  

We would wait all day, and then drive over to some areas where we might have a good view as the storm approached. Did any of you ever do that?  

We would sometimes go to the Battery. We would walk High and low Battery with waves splashing and soaking us.  

Or go out to Folly Beach to watch the waves crash on the sand. It was always more beautiful and ferocious when a storm was near. And, we just couldn’t stay away from it all.  

Hurricane Hugo was no exception.  

But, this time, it was MY children who were the ones waiting to see where Hugo was gonna make landfall. And wait we did. We grocery shopped a little. But not that much – because in reality, we thought it was never gonna hit us! Famous last words.

When we decided we were gonna stay-- the finalization came from our friend, John Reid. We checked the topography map. The area that we were living at was the highest area. So, we decided we would stay.  

After we went to look all around Charleston-- from James Island to Downtown, from the Marina to Folly Beach-- we went back to hunker down. We had boarded up what we thought we should have and still had some plywood.  

Turns out we hadn’t done all of the boarding up that we should have… David had secured all the windows with boards except for the kitchen. And, Nana (who was staying with us as the time) was in the garage-- we moved her into the kitchen to be with us since it was where the family would be.

During the storm, the wind picked up and continued to get faster and stronger until it got so bad, we thought maybe we had made a mistake. As the night progressed, we were watching the windows in the kitchen move—breathing in and out.  We thought they were gonna blow out but they didn't.

A twister tore down the street. The sound was horrendous. The tornado continued along the street popping lines and trees and ripping through yards, but somehow it seemed to just jump over our house, hitting down the street, taking out all of our neighbor’s timber.

Our kitchen had a “U-shape” to it (with an island) and we were sitting on the kitchen floor. It was me and Brandon and David and John on one side. My momma was across from us... And we started singing songs. We sang everything: from “Itsy-Bitsy Spider” down to all the “Church songs.”

We sang all night long. On one hand, the night flew by, on the other hand, it drug on.

Brandon and David fell asleep...  

And… who was left singing?! Just me and John and Nana!

The eye of the storm came and the roar of the winds stopped.

We went out in the eye and our neighbors hollered at us to make sure we were ok. And we were… we had made it through the first half of the hurricane.

Only able to see the flashlights through the pitch black as the storm was returning, when the winds started picking up again, we returned to the kitchen and continued our concert. John had to be occupied because he was so scared and stressed.

When the sun came out the next morning we didn’t even recognize where we lived.  

I had mowed the lawn a couple days before the hurricane hit. I remember lamenting: “I’m so tired of mowing this lawn.”

And… do you know that there wasn’t a strip of grass left!

It was difficult to get around in the aftermath of Hugo. So many trees were blown down to the point that we couldn’t find the road beneath our feet – until a sweet neighbor came through with his small bulldozer and pushed the debris to the side so we could move about.  

Another neighbor, who had gotten extra water, appeared at our doorstep with water enough for our entire family.  

Yet another neighbor emptied his freezer and cooked for all of us.  

None of this was solicited. They just did it because we were in need!

Did you lose your phone service? We NEVER did! Not during Hugo. Power, yes. Phone, no. People called from all over to check on us (and our neighbors).  

Remember how it was with the National Guard? Well, our son was on medication for seizures but do you think we remembered to pick up extra medicine or fill up our car with gas or get cash from the ATM? Why would we do that? We only planned for parties, right?  

Storm wasn’t gonna hit us.

By calling around we found that we could get his medicine from MUSC –  IF we could get there. .

Getting in our car, we headed downtown. What a mess – looking at large sailboats washed across the street from the Harbor. Telephone poles down. Buildings crumbling; some missing. But, we made it to our destination. And there they were – the National Guard.  

What were we doing there? Did we look like looters to them? Maybe by that time we did. No power, no hair dryer, wrinkled clothes. Hmmmmm. Now that I think about it maybe we did look a little shabby. But definitely not chic.  

Fortunately, my husband explained and showed the Guard the bottles for medications so they let him pass. Completing this task, we headed back to James Island. Just one problem…

National Guard.  

Again.  

They were stationed at the bridges not letting ANYONE onto the Island.  

Oh, my gracious. 

Never thought of this because when we left the Island they were not in place. We drove up to the Guard, showed our credentials, told them we were residents of the Island and needed to get home.  

So what? So did everyone else.  

He would let us on the Island… but, only if we walked to our house.

Are you kidding me?

That was miles away and we were not dressed for walking nor prepared for all that. We had sad little sandals on – not for walking. (Remember we had no air at home so we were wearing as little as possible.)  

And, another thing – I had left our two sons home. So here we are – off the Island. Our sons – on the Island.  

Problem!

As the Guard continued to explain to us why we couldn’t do this or that, I took my house keys and handed them over to him.  

With a curious look on his face, he asked, “What are these for?”

I said, “Well, since we can’t drive to our house… I’m making you responsible for getting this medicine to my son and babysitting them until we can get home.”  

He paused for a moment. But not for long, and said, “Go right on through and have a good day.”

We all have horror stories: houses destroyed, lives lost, unimaginable flooding, rescues made. But, at the end of that devastation, everyone helped everyone!

God takes care of fools and children and he sure took care of us.

I vowed to never stay through another hurricane that looked like it would hit Charleston.

This IS Charleston.  

We may not agree on everything. But, the bottom line… we are all “OUR CHARLESTON FAMILY.” We are there for each other!

~ Jeannie Joyner

It's a Little Whack

Not having much time to get away for a vacation, our family would grab a “day vacation” or weekend whenever possible. Because my husband worked most Saturdays, two days in a row were hard to come by.

My youngest son, Brandon, was anxious to go out of town for the weekend so he put together a “getaway” to Myrtle Beach and invited me, my girlfriend, and three of his friends. One of my best girlfriends… well… how can I describe her? She was always so much fun because she’s crazy as a loon. My son tried to include her in our trips as much as possible-- she was one of the gang! 

We headed out to enjoy our glorious time in Myrtle Beach. We toured, shopped, ate, talked (or not) and laughed. It was a long day and we didn't want it to end but we decided we would call it a night. We needed to get a little rest to be ready to start all over again the next morning. So, off to bed we went.  

Now one of the people my son included on the trip was a young man named Austin. He had just gone through a break up with his girlfriend and a weekend getaway would help him forget his troubles.  

Or so we thought!  

Anyway, it was decided that Austin needed a make-over-- to be given a new look-- to make him feel better about himself. It hadn't been easy for Austin going through this breakup and Brandon was going to help him. Austin was a nice guy and Brandon knew that. Under those big glasses, shaggy, mousey hair and nerdy clothes there was a self-confident soul. After the four had discussed this, they hopped in the car (around 2 AM) and headed to Walmart.  

They purchased clothes, hair dye, scissors-- whatever they could put their hands on to improve the appearance of their friend. About 3 AM, the gang return to the hotel and began transforming Austin. Picture this: Austin, sitting in a chair in front of this huge mirror—glasses removed—with Brandon holding a pair of scissors. Then Brandon went for it! 

Snip…  

Snip… 

Snip! 

Whack… 

Whack… 

Whoops!!! 

All of a sudden, Brandon was shaking me awake. “Mom, mom, wake up! I need your help!” he stressed frantically.  

“What is it, son?” I said. 

“One of the girls was cutting Austin’s hair and I think she cut it wrong! Look at it and tell me what to do!” he said.  

So, crawling out of the bed, I headed to were Austin was, still sitting in front of the huge mirror—glasses in hand—staring at himself in the mirror.  

Did I tell you he was blind as a bat? All he could see in the mirror was a big blur! 

He couldn't figure out why we were all laughing. We were all standing behind him, staring at each other, rolling our eyes and wondering what we were going to do. Because, as we observed... there was a big chunk of hair missing from the back of his head... A big whack!  

“Oh, my goodness!” I said as I tried to catch my breath from laughing. 

“It's a little whack, it'll grow back.” 

Austin grabbed the back of his head in disbelief. But what could he do now? What was done was done.  

I took the scissors from them and tried to trim it up as best I could. It looked pretty good. Even if I did say so myself.  

They continued that weekend dying his hair, changing him over to contacts from glasses and picking out cool clothes for him. He was ready to be introduced to the public and they were all thrilled with the finished product. Even Austin.  

We all had such a wonderful weekend, even with the “little whack,” it was full of adventure and laughter. What a pleasure it was to have been included in all their mischief! After all, age has nothing to do with having fun.  

Want to come along on one of our weekend adventures?  

Hope you don't need a haircut.  

~ Jeannie Joyner

Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground

As a parent have you ever had to sign a consent form for your child so he or she could go on a field trip or participate in something? Well, that's how it all started with a children's production that my husband and I were directing at a downtown Church!

Simple, huh?

You'd think so.

This particular production was an amazing opportunity for children who love to sing and act and... Fly. That's right. I said, “fly.”

We rehearsed our productions for three months in advance because they were usually pretty involved and we had a variety of ages... toddlers, right on up too early teens. And my assistants (and we needed plenty) were wonderful-- some of them were parents, some not-- but, my oh my, the talent we had in those assistants.

One particular fellow was a “jack-of-all-trades" and I do mean he could do anything. So we brought up the subject of flying a couple of kids...

“No problem,” he said.

“Great,” I said.

We had never done this and so it was a new adventure for all of us. We had our production meetings, discussed the possibilities, and drew up all the plans for the rigging. All the guys wanted to be in on this process ‘cause, let's face it, how often does an opportunity like this come around? They were like kids in a candy shop, each throwing out ideas of how this could or should work! But in the end, it all rested on the shoulders of the man we knew who could really handle it!

Weeks went by, rehearsals continued, music was memorized, costumes were made and fitted, scenery was painted, and hardware was gathered for the assembly of the rigging for this “heavenly production. “

Getting back to the story... we decided that we would fly at least two kids in our production so instead of sending forms home for parents to sign with permission to fly their kids -- and we pretty much decided that most parents would not give us consent for this -- we decided (an assistant and myself) that we would fly our sons so if we killed them, that would be okay... ‘Cause they belong to us.

Now don't get all stirred up. Would you have given your consent?

We had asked our sons and they both jumped at the chance. So, we were on for the “Big Show.”

Everything was ready.

Last rehearsal before show time...

The kids were excited and so were we. What a production this was going to be. The BIG announcement had been made in the morning church service (we were on TV) about the grand surprise for the production that night.

Excitement was in the air!

The rigging was completed and tested. Our angels were ready to fly.

Everyone had been instructed after the testing that there were certain steps that we had to follow in order for everything to work properly without a hitch.

Except-- one of the volunteer crew members decided that he wanted to try out this mechanism one more time before the evening performance.  So, without permission and without proper setup, he decided to go ahead and run through the scene where the Angels would be flying through the air.

Remember-- I said, “without proper set up! “ So...

Crash.

Crunch.

Clunk.

Crack.

“Oh, my goodness! You are kidding me? “

The whole set... dragging on the floor. The others who helped construct all of the set came in to see this mass of a mess and the thought of murder crossed their minds.

But remember... they were in church and that sort of thing is frowned upon in church.

We were so close to performance time that we didn’t have enough time to reset anything. We had to make the announcement to the cast that there would be no flying.

Such long faces!

Frowns!

Sadness!

Disappointment!

All that work down the drain. The adults were just as disappointed as the children!

But never sell the children short, for once the initial shock was over, they all went on in their precious angel costumes and behaved just like angels. They made us all proud. Disappointed, yes. But so excited to share their talents with their parents, grandparents, siblings, teachers, and the entire congregation. And, as we watched those little smiling faces, you could never tell that anything was missing from this production.

Maybe the crack...

Crash...

Crunch...

Clunk... was a sign that we shouldn't be flying our precious children. We didn't need to have that to have a successful production. The kids were absolutely wonderful.

Even though they didn’t get to fly that evening, they truly were angels!

~ Jeannie Joyner

Baby’s Day Out

Ahhhh…... those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. 

And I do mean CRAZY!

As I've told all of you before, summer is my favorite season.  Folly Beach is my favorite place to be and relaxing on the beach is my favorite thing to do.

“FORGET YOUR TROUBLES, COME ON GET HAPPY, YOU BETTER CHASE ALL YOUR CARES AWAY. SHOUT HALLELUJAH, COME ON GET HAPPY, GET READY FOR THE JUDGEMENT DAY.”

This particular July day, with our family of four, I thought I could forget all my troubles and be happy...... NOT SO!!! Because it felt like judgement day to me.

It was a day filled with blue skies. It was a fluffy white "name-that cloud" day with the most wonderful, warm tropical breezes.

We always carried numerous "toys" to keep us occupied... not that we needed anything, but we liked to "do" things at the beach, not just bake in the sun. Playing handball, shelling, playing frizby, body surfing, talking, listening to music, and let's not forget the best part... eating.

This particular day, I think all of Charleston had decided to go to the beach... not just any beach... Folly was the beach of choice.

It was difficult to find a vacant spot to sit on the sand much less room to put a blanket down. And I didn't carry a dinky towel. We travelled with a huge blanket. One that all four of us could get comfortable on. 

A place was spotted and we proceeded to set up for the whole day. As far as the eye could see... PEOPLE… hundreds of PEOPLE... and they all had the same idea... with all of their paraphernalia; people surfing, people jogging, people building sand castles.

John was on the blanket with us and Brandon decided he would play in the sand next to us. That was OK with us ‘cause I could see him out the corner of my eye... or so I thought.  Besides, there were lifeguards on duty that day to make sure everyone was safe and we never let our children go in the water without an adult. So, as we sat talking, I was sure Brandon was still playing in the sand next to me. But, when I turned to check on him, he was gone... GONE!

My head did a 360 like Linda Blair in "The Exorcist"... this COULD NOT be happening! "He was right there!!!," I screeched, "David, where is he? He was right there just a second ago!!!"

Panic set in. We jumped up and started scanning the beach with our eyes... NOTHING!

Besides, how could I possibly spot him amongst hundreds of people?

We split up, David going to the left, me to the right. I was running down the beach headed for the lifeguard stand when my eye spotted a little figure in a bright red bathing suit, his head of blonde hair just glistening in the sun, running in the opposite direction. Do you know how fast a five year old can run?

"Oh my goodness! When I catch him, I'm gonna kill him!" I thought.  (Well, as a parent you know how panicky we feel if our children get away from us for 5 seconds in a grocery store or a mall. And it happens to ALL of us—no exceptions. You can think of those stories now as you’re reading about mine!)

What a relief I felt when I spotted him. Happiness... anger; anger...happiness. But I have to remember, he's the child, I'm the adult. We should have been more attentive, and he should have never wandered off...but he did.

Anyway, I finally caught up to him and I grabbed him and squeezed him so tight I thought I'd broken him. Scolding would happen... not then... but later on in the day when my body stopped shaking and my heart stopped pounding (so hard that I'm sure everyone on the beach must have thought they were listening to a boombox). We had a "Come-To-Jesus" meeting about NEVER LEAVING US without letting us know first.

I really don't know what he learned from all that, but I learned, as a parent, there ain't no relaxing with kids. Sit up, stay alert, keep your eyes ON your children and enjoy your day... maybe. And as far as judgment... we are always so much harder on ourselves than anyone else could ever be. At times we can't let ourselves be human.

We all make mistakes, we just hope and pray that we don't make them with our children.

~ Jeannie Joyner

Friendship: The Perfect Blendship

Since[our family had been involved in many movies that were being filmed in Charleston, it was no surprise to us that the casting director called to offer a part in an upcoming movie to our youngest son, Brandon, who was around 6 years old at the time. So, I asked him if he would like to participate. Knowing how long it takes to shoot a scene, he was a little hesitant but finally agreed.

The day came to film and we were instructed to meet at The Aiken-Rhett House in the historic district of downtown Charleston. When we arrived, we were asked to sign in and wait for further instructions. To our surprise, there sat a very good friend of ours along with her 6-year-old son, Ryan.

Within minutes the wrangler came out and whisked the two boys away. And, thirty minutes later they were back in full “Civil War” era costumes. The boys, very happy to see each other, were having a grand ole time playing, running and laughing, waiting for the shoot to begin.

The wrangler came to collect the boys at which time she told us that the scene they would be shooting was a birthday party for Jefferson Davis’ son-- and, that she was not sure how long it would take. She said, “Just make yourselves comfortable, have a water and relax for a while.”

 I knew what that meant. We were in for a long day... And it was hot outside.

Well, they were back in the blink of an eye, already out of costume and in their own clothes. “My goodness,” I said, “That didn't take long at all.” The Wrangler said, “They did such a great job that the director shot the scene in one take!”

“Excellent,” I said.

Months went by, the “made-for-TV” movie was released. Time for the big day! Each family gathered around their respective television sets for the “viewing.” We were all so excited to see how the boys had handled themselves. The movie started, the big scene comes up and the boys are playing a version of “blind man’s bluff.”

Ryan, the one who was “it” and trying to get the targets—all of the other children playing the game—was spun around, feeling his way around the room, finally catches one of the other boys. The camera immediately pans away to another room but we continue to hear Brandon’s laughter coming from the party as the boys continued to play.

Not being able to see Ryan's face or even tell that it is him, his mother said, “How did you end up wearing the burlap blindfold in that scene?”

 Ryan said excitedly, “I raised my hand and volunteered!”

“Well,” she said, “how do you think all of our friends are going to know that it's you?”

“That's easy,” he exclaimed. “I'll just tell them I'm the one in the blindfold!” He was just as happy as he could be knowing that he had done something special by volunteering to wear it.

You gotta love ‘em!

By the way, both “men” are still heavily involved in theater as writers, actors, directors, makeup artists, set designers... You name it and they can do it...

Still working together and still great friends.

~ Jeannie Joyner

It's a Good Day at the Beach

Summertime and we were ready for the beach! This particular day we were planning a whole day out on the water in my cousin Derald's boat. I had waited for this all week and I was ready!

Derald, my best friend, Ladonna, my husband, David, and I headed out to Folly Beach towing the boat behind us when all of a sudden, the tire blew on the boat trailer.

Bad news… no spare.

It was Sunday and the only place open with the type of tire needed for the trailer was Sears and it would take quite a while to go pick up the tire and get back to the boat. Afraid to leave the boat unattended, Ladonna and I agreed to stay and protect it... with that one small weapon—a puny knife.

So, with Ladonna and I dressed only in our bikinis, perched high in the boat, the men drove away leaving us to protect the boat. “Don't get into any trouble,” David said.

Ladonna said, “I can take care of us...” and she showed the puny knife to David.

“Famous last words,” he said, “Oh, and smirked as they drove away.”

In a moment, a patrolman passed by and through his open window asked if we were okay and wanted to know if we needed anything. He said he would keep an eye on us as he drove up and down Folly Road on patrol. He rolled up his window as he left… and we waved.

And just a few moments later, a car pulled up with two guys in it, looking at us and just grinning... Not paying any attention to where they were going, they drove straight into the ditch! They got out of the car to assess the situation and, still grinning, decided they could not get out of the ditch by themselves. In the meantime, a guy in a truck noticed what had happened and decided to stop and help.

He hooked up a rope to the car to help the guys out of the ditch. As he did, his wheels just spun and dug deep into the mud! A traffic policeman showed up and started directing traffic around the cars because Folly Road, at that time, was only 2 lanes. The other patrolman drove up… and we waved.

So... we have: LaDonna and I still in the boat, the guys who had pulled off to help still in the ditch, the guy in the truck who had pulled off to help the other guys now stuck in the mud, the traffic cop directing traffic, and the patrolmen passed by again... And, again, we waved.

Because of the two vehicles in the ditch, a tow truck was called. The tow truck arrived, connected the chain to the car in the ditch—and what do you think happened?

Right!

The tow truck caught on fire.

That's right, folks! The tow truck is now on fire… and LaDonna and I are still sitting in the boat observing all that is going on around us with one puny little knife for protection.

Someone called for a fire truck because the tow truck was on fire. A guy in a red car, seeing all the commotion, stopped to help. He had a fire extinguisher and so he put out the fire on the tow truck. So LaDonna and I are still sitting high in the boat on the side of the road, still observing the car in the ditch, the truck in the mud, the burned tow truck, the traffic policeman directing traffic on Folly Road, the Good Samaritan in the red car who put out the fire and the fire truck that had been called.

Once again, the patrolman drove by… and we waved.

When David and Derald came up Folly Rd toward where they had left us, they spotted the police lights, the emergency vehicle lights, the hazard lights on the tow truck and David said, “See, Derald, we couldn't leave them alone for a minute without them getting into trouble!”

So… they tooted the horn and drove on by pretending not to know us.

The patrolman who we had waved at, finally came back and stopped. He approached the car in the ditch and noticed the car had a crack in the windshield larger than allowed by law. He proceeded to write them a ticket for the cracked windshield. Ladonna, seeing what was going on with the guys in the ditch hopped out of the boat (without the puny knife) and ran over to the patrolman, pleading with him not to give the guys in the ditch a ticket!

David and Derald finally turned around to come back to where we were through all the traffic that was now backed-up all the way down Folly Rd.

I'm sitting high up in the in the boat—by myself—in my bikini with the puny knife for protection in my hand observing: the guys in the ditch, the truck stuck in the mud, the traffic policeman directing traffic, the burned tow truck, the Good Samaritan with the red car, the passing patrolman, LaDonna still

pleading with the cop trying to avoid the ticket, and now – my husband and my cousin looking at us shaking their heads.

I still haven't said a word...

Just observing...

Never got out of the boat.

LaDonna, being the “cutie pie” that she was and is ends up talking the policeman out of giving the guys in the ditch the ticket.

Finally, after all is settled, each one was on their merry way, the guys in the ditch drove over to LaDonna and I—I'm still in the boat—and invited us to their party on Folly Beach… while David and Derald finished changing the tire on the boat trailer.

It was a long, long day. We didn’t get to the beach, we didn’t get to the party, but we did get to work on our tans!

~Jeannie Joyner

(Photo Credit - Brian “Kentucky” Ross)

Baby, You're a Firework

What's your favorite memory of the 4th of July?

A cookout in your backyard?

A picnic at the beach?

An evening sitting under the stars watching a fabulous fireworks display?

We've done them all... Even driven to Altamonte Springs near Orlando, Florida to see one of the most outstanding fireworks displays in the Southeast... And it was!

We've driven to Helen to celebrate the 4th in this little Bavarian Alpine village nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Georgia.

How about driving into a parking garage in downtown Charleston to watch fireworks from the top level? Guilty!!! (Please don't share this secret with anyone. This is just between us!)

So, however you choose to celebrate this holiday, I think we would all agree that spending it with your favorite “peeps” is the best way to go.

Come on over to Charleston and grab a tall glass of sweet tea with a slice of lemon and take in the sights, sounds and smells of our beautiful city by the sea.

It’s heaven on earth!

~ Jeannie Joyner

Bosom Buddies

Warm weather makes me happy. The warmer the better.

After being cooped up all winter, all I want to do is go outside and enjoy the longer days, fresh air and warm sunshine. Just let me go grab a bathing suit, towel, suntan lotion and a picnic lunch and I'm ready for the day.

On this particular day I was ready for the lake... Lake Moultrie! Ahhh… I can feel the hot sand between my toes as I remember this fun-filled, sun-filled day. My cousin always had one of his three boats available for us to use and this day it was the jet boat -- fast and furious – with its powerful twin engines and deep, rich, sparkly burgundy color. We thought we were “cool” when we were in this magnificent machine... And we were!

It was to be a day of water skiing. The girls were not great skiers but the guys were phenomenal as it was nothing for them to ski right over to the shoreline and step out of their skis. Show offs! It was time for my cousin and my best girlfriend to ski, so they jumped in the water.

Ready…

Set...

Go!

They were off and doing a great job. Well, a much larger boat passed by creating a huge wake and the wake from that larger boat headed right toward the skiers. It was like everything was in slow motion.

My friend’s ski sliced right through the wave coming out the other side. Then her body slapped into the wake like it was a solid wall…

Splat!

Splash!

She was down.

My cousin, seeing this, started swimming toward her to assist and when he got within reach, all of a sudden, he turned and swam toward his boat. My friend was rather annoyed that she was being ignored. She was laying on her back in the water, flapping her arms like she was a bird trying to take flight and her chest was exposed to the elements... BARE!

The wake had knocked off her bikini top. I signaled to her to check out her chest. “Oh, my goodness,” she squealed, “no wonder he left me out here.”

Glancing over to her right was the bikini top... Floating in the water!

So, if you're going out for a day of water sports, may we suggest a one piece?

It might not have actually been the longest day of the year but I’m sure it seemed like it for her.

~Jeannie Joyner

Aye, Aye, Corporal Punishment

I was an only child so attention was something that I never really lacked.

One day I aggravated my father to the point that he “threatened” to spank me. Now understand this period... In all my life my father had NEVER laid a hand on me... NOT ONCE! But this particular day, I took my father at his word.

I ask myself, “What am I going to do to keep this from happening?” In my 6-year-old mind, I thought, if I could just hide all of his belts then that would solve the problem and he would never be able to follow through with his threat. So, I collected every one of his belts, found an old wooden Coke crate, gently rolled each belt into a circle and placed them in the Coke crate... Under the kitchen sink... Pushed way back up against the wall.

 My father, getting dressed for work the next morning, asked me where his belts were. I said, “I'm not giving them to you until you promise not to spank me.” One week later and still without his belts to hold up his pants he said, “I promise not to spank you if you will just tell me where my belts are hidden.”

 I led him into the kitchen, opened the cabinet, showed him the crate and there, still tucked into the Coke crate were his belts. He looked at me and smiling, just shook his head. “Who would have ever thought to hide these?”

My dad got his belts. I got his promise – No spanking!

And I never purchased a single belt for my dad for Father’s Day.

~ Jeannie Joyner

Taste the Rainbow (Row)

(A Brief History of Rainbow Row)

If you were to ask a native Charlestonian about Rainbow Row (i.e., What is it?, Where is it ?, Etc.) your answers would be pretty much the same from them all. We all know something about the pretty pastel houses lined up along East Bay Street, south of Broad Street. You might get some personal answers like – “they have been there as long as I remember” or “that their colors never change.” These bits and pieces are true as far as they go, but you would be missing what Paul Harvey would call – “the rest of the story.”

The houses of Rainbow Row were built between 1748 and 1845 along the riverfront as commercial units with living space on the second and third floors. Over the course of their existence, these houses from 79 to 107 East Bay Street have seen prosperity and recession; wind, rain and storm; and most notably massive damage from hurricanes, fires and earthquakes. Through all of these misfortunes, the “Row” has stood due in part to the resilience of their individual owners, but mostly due to the overall sense of community that pressed for their rebuilding, repair, or renovation.

These homes have been the property of many Charleston notables and their families as well as those who came to visit and never left. This collage of personalities saw the “Row” through the early years of new industry and growth as well as the years of war and sorrow. They also brought the row from economic success to the drab darkness of decay. Compounded by Charleston’s famous fires and earthquakes, Rainbow Row fell to its lowest point in the early 1900s when it was seen as the slum of the “east-side.”

Not wanting visitors or residents to take this visage as a lasting impression of Charleston, several of Charleston’s ablest citizens took it upon themselves to change the “Rows’” image. Starting with Susan Pringle Frost’s purchase of several of the houses beginning in 1920 and subsequent purchases by Lionel and Dorothy Legge in 1931 and John McGowan in 1938, the properties from 79 to 107 East Bay were restored, rebuilt or renovated to the “glory” that is theirs today. When Justice and Mrs. Legge purchased 99/101 East Bay for restoration, Mrs. Legge decided on the Caribbean Pink exterior to help cool the house during the Charleston summers, not necessarily so people could tell which one was theirs. The other owner followed suit with pastel colors of their own choosing thus giving us what today is referred to fondly as Charleston’s Rainbow Row.

The effect of their transformation resulted in the Charleston Society for Preservation of Old Homes, later to be known as Charleston’s Preservation Society. Along with the influence of the Charleston Historical Society, other parts of Charleston became targets for renewal and restoration followed by adaptation of local legal codes. These codes guided not only the restoration of Charleston’s neighborhoods, but also the building of new properties so that they would not detract from Charleston’s unique historical look and feel.

These thirteen homes on East Bay Street have stood the test of time to become the longest row of Georgian style architecture in the country. “Rainbow Row” is a beacon of its citizens’ strength when faced with adversity and as part of Charleston is reflective of the city's grace and style.

~ David Joyner

The Family Jewels

I like jewelry.

I save up my money to pick out jewelry every year — each year I find a special ring. It takes a long time to save up for.

I love going to Florida. When we go to events like Mardi Gras at Universal Studios, I enjoy getting beads and different necklaces. I sometimes wear necklaces. When we were in Florida and went into a Jewelry store in Disney World, all they had were silver rings. 

I travel and look for different things that I like.

I found a shop, Golden ‘N Memories, that used to be in Dollywood, which is where we met Melinda and Larry the first time. They enjoy Southern Gospel like I do and we had fun talking to one another.  Larry would pull the trays out for me to look at, touch, hold and try on. I look for rings that fit nicely but if not, they’ll size it for me.

Larry creates each ring as a piece of art. Kinda like mom — One works with intricate rings while mom paints on larger canvases. He does good work just like mom does.

The first ring I ever picked out here was a silver color with a Black Onyx. Then I found a clear ring when I returned the second year.

My favorite color is purple. I have many different color rings. I have a ring that’s like the sky and different color blues. Blue like the sky is one I definitely look for.

All of the rings are gemstones; I think I have a Purple Agate. My favorite ring is — I have so many I can’t even remember — I'll say it’s the black and gray-ish in the shape of a road. I just like it.

It’s been about 2 years since Larry passed away, but I still go to the store to pick out special rings that he had made before he died.

The first time I went in after that I hugged Melinda… and found some special rings.

I look forward to finding my next special edition to the ring family. I always find something special. Sometimes a ring. Sometimes something even better.

~ John Joyner

** You can visit Melinda’s Gold ‘N Memories at https://www.facebook.com/goldnmemoriesonline/

Let Gogh and Let God

I've always loved the arts... All of them!

Singing, sewing, painting, cooking, designing, you name it, I wanted to try it.

I made outfits for all my dolls, by hand, cooked cakes in my “Easy-Bake” oven at night, in the dark, while my parents slept. I would sing at the top of my lungs for my mama and she would always say that I was gonna grow up to be an opera singer. I didn't achieve that but I am a first soprano. Second grade – finger painting-- my teacher was so impressed with my painting that she asked my mother if she could keep it and display it on the bulletin board. I was so proud. That was the start of it all.

Little did I know that my tiny stick figures, trees, houses, flowers would evolve into something quite different, and something that I am happy to be able to share with all of you today.

So, enjoy all the festive, eye-catching colors of our Lowcountry and hopefully they will give you as much joy as they have given me.

~ Jeannie Joyner

Forever In Blue Jeans

It's no secret that I love clothes. Just ask my friends and family. I can blame that on my mom cause she made sure I was perfectly “put together” before I left the house in the mornings.

When I was in elementary school most little girls wore dresses… with crinolines. So when my mom dressed me in a pair of blue jeans with a plaid flannel lining that turned up into a cuff, I thought my world had come to an end. How could she have done this to me? She knew that I wanted to look nice for school. I wanted to wear my dress, my hair bow that matched my dress, my lace-trimmed socks and my crinolines... Two to three of them. Starched stiff!

If she thought I was going to school dressed like a farmer she was wrong! So I plopped myself down outside the front door and boohooed! I cried and cried! By that time my mother was feeling defeated. I was not budging and I certainly was not going to school to have the kids laugh at me. From the kitchen, I could hear my mom say, “It's alright I'll never try to make you wear blue jeans again.” And she didn't.

I think she gave my jeans away.

~ Jeannie Joyner