Dr. Tooth and the Eclectic Mayhem

I started singing in the youth choir at Citadel Square Baptist Church when I was 15 years old. I loved it.

John Hutto, our mentor, was outstanding as a minister of music, always keeping things upbeat and interesting; always producing and directing beautiful Easter music, dramas and cantatas. All accompanied by glorious musicians, one standing out - May Elizabeth Cone - our organist!

John always rehearsed, rehearsed and the then rehearsed some more ‘til you could almost sing the music in your sleep. And he almost never repeated a piece of music in the same here.

He would keep us on our toes as far as directing, always telling us: “Watch me! Watch me! Because if I decide to hold a note longer or to cut you off sooner, you need to watch me for those changes.” And change things he did... But the choir members were alert and most did not have their heads buried in the music. He was all about perfection – how you entered the choir loft, opened & held your choir folder, where you sat and when you stood—you name it—he addressed it!

We were on TV every Sunday, so if the viewing audience didn't like what they saw they would call in and complain:

“Sit up in your chair.”

“Don't cross your legs.”

“Don't wiggle.”

“Don't talk.”

Rules - rules - and more rules!

One Sunday morning during the worship hour on Channel 5, John Hutto got up to direct the music. He was facing the congregation, hundreds of people in attendance, directing everyone to stand up and sing this heavenly hymn. We were all involved in singing, John directing with flailing arms, as he really put himself into the moment as he always did with the music that he loved so much, when he turned towards the choir...

Now understand this was not unusual. He would direct the congregation to stand, direct a few stanzas, turn to the choir, direct a little, and generally turn back to the congregation to finish. This morning, as he “slowly” turned toward the choir, we all noticed that he his movements were just a little different. As usual, by his orders, we all had our eyes on him.

Just at that moment... he broke out in an unusually wide grin and then we noticed it. His front tooth had fallen out and he had swallowed it. Well, one can just imagine how difficult it was for forty or so choir members to remain poised and composed. It was all the choir could do not to burst out in laughter. Because he had trained us so well, we just grinned a little on the outside while we howled with laughter ON THE INSIDE!

The TV audience thought we were filled with the Holy Spirit! Little did they know what had really happened during that hymn... And, that was good because John Hutto would have killed us if we had not been true to all of his teachings. But... we still laugh about it today ON THE OUTSIDE!

It was on that day that John Hutto gave new meaning to: “Sinking your teeth into something you love…”

 ~ Jeannie Joyner

Meanwhile, Back at the (Randolph) Hall of Justice…

(A Brief History of Randolf Hall)

Ask what is distinctive about the College of Charleston and the majority of responses will mention Randolph Hall at the Cistern on the main campus. “It's that building with a double staircase up the front.”

Randolph Hall is proudly situated on the original campus as the architectural face of the college and has the distinction of being the oldest of the three structures at the heart of the campus. It also was the first constructed for the purpose of teaching. Architect William Strickland designed the hall and saw it completed in 1829. It was enlarged in 1850 as part of a campus expansion at the direction of the architect EB White who added the six columns that make its facade so notable.

The Cistern, which sits in front of the hall, was completed in 1857 for flood control and water supply for firefighting. The cistern yard has Porter’s Lodge (1850) and the Towell Library (1850) named after its 1934 alumnus, EB Towell. The walled area around the cistern is known for the college graduation ceremonies taking place on Mother's Day. Over the years the commence exercises have utilized walkways over the cistern and the double staircase on the face of Randolph Hall for the processional of students receiving their diplomas.

The college has grown from an all-male class of 6 in 1794 to more than 10,000 including all races and genders. Randolph Hall has had a number of changes to its structure – both by design and by disaster. The whole by virtue of its longevity and physical integrity reflects the efforts of its namesake, College President Harrison Randolph -- who served the school for 48 years from 1897 - 1945. During his tenure, Randolph began the modern building program that has seen The College grow to more than 100 structures. His presidency opened the doors for the first time to women (13 in total) in 1918. Randolph managed the municipal college with just the tuition of students, alumni donations and City of Charleston funding.

Today, The College of Charleston has transitioned to be part of the state higher education system as a highly regarded liberal arts and science college. It still retains its historic stature as the oldest college south of Virginia and the 13th oldest in the United States.

The class membership. The columns and stones. The deep-rooted educational context of the building and surrounding buildings. Regardless of all the history and architecture, the most impressive view of Randolph Hall is from the seats placed inside the Cistern Yard that enable a parent to proudly watch as their graduate receives their diploma as reward for hard work and perseverance.

~ David Joyner

A Pirate Looks Back At 40

I’ve been putting off writing this for quite a while now. Months, actually…

And, that’s for several reasons. Mostly, because, who wants to hear about anyone getting older. For those who are beyond your years, they’ve lived through it already. For those younger, they think they know better all the same.

What does that leave to be said? What makes it special?

Well, in the end, it’s my 40th birthday coming up and someone gave me the mic. So, there.

I’ll keep it short. At least short for me.

I could write about all of the things that I’ve learned in my time on this earth, but to be honest the older I get the less I feel I know. I mean, when I was in my early 20s, I thought, “I know 80% of everything there is to know.” Now, I think, “There’s so much to know… I’m up to 2 – maybe 3%….”

I’ll just tell a quick little story that encompasses everything I’ve learned. How about that?

They say that ten thousand hours makes you an expert. If you perform any specific task for over ten thousand hours you’ve earned your professional’s badge. I tell you that to tell you this. I’ve been performing since I was a kid. In church, in school, around town. Wherever anyone would allow me to sing.

While I was in college, I auditioned for the musical Oklahoma! I found out shortly thereafter that I had been cast in one of the lead roles: Curly. Like it or not, I was going to be singing about how “Beautiful a Mornin’” it was.

We rehearsed. All of the singing, the dancing, the whole shebang for a little over a month. The cast was as professional as we were going to get (in college). The first couple of performances went off without a hitch. Curly courts Laurie. Will loves on Ado Annie. Everything in between was gravy, baby.

And then…

During one of the shows, I was getting into the song “The Surrey with the Fringe on the Top.” Everyone in the audience knows every note and every word. But who cares? I knew what the hell I was doing.

I was set to climb up the windmill on the stage opposite of Aunt Eller’s house to which the laundry line’s attached. That’s exactly what I rehearsed and exactly what I did.

Except…

When I did it this time, I accidentally knocked the line off and all of the laundry floated to the stage. I was going to fix the line as soon as I could. At least I thought I was, when I realized I had thrown myself off of my game – off of autopilot—and forgot the lyrics to the song. I moved some of the lyrics from the second verse. No harm, no foul.

Then, when I got to the second verse… I didn’t think I should repeat the same lyrics over again. So, I politely took a handful of words from the third verse and plugged them into what I was singing at that moment in time. I had saved my bacon from the fire, off to fight another day.

Then came the most romantic part of the song. Laurie and Curly would cuddle up at the base of the windmill. Love was in the air.

I sat in the glow of the lights from above, my Laurie in my arms shaking violently with laughter. You see, I had forgotten yet another verse. I had no more made-up lyrics left. The only thing I could think to do was scat. Instead of the wonderful words of Rodgers and Hammerstein, I blurted out “skeep bah deep floo gah doop gee gee floo dooh.” This was during the most tender moment of the song.

This was the first of many flubs by the entire cast that night. The 8 pm show on a Saturday night. Props were forgotten. Starter pistols misfired.

It did not go well. So…

There was always tomorrow night though. There was the rest of the run to consider. What is any performance meant to do? I pulled up my overalls, hitched up my big ole brown boots and sang out my cowboy heart for the rest of the run. The show must go on…

That’s life, folks. No matter what happens you have to keep going. It’s one of the many lessons I’ve learned. And there it is.

What else is there to say really?

While trinkets like “live every day as if it’s your last” seem a little hoary, this makes them no less true. I realize that tomorrows are never guaranteed.

But as I procrastinate, this becomes a bit of a paradox. Until we meet again on the raging seas of life, I will remember you fondly so long as I can remember anything at all.

~ Brandon L. Joyner

Here, There and Everywhere

I’ve lived in South Carolina almost my entire life—going on 50 years now! I’ve lived in Savannah, Goose Creek, North Charleston, James Island and settled in the West Ashley area of Charleston.

Savannah is pretty much the same as Charleston... there are a lot of similarities—the people, the history, the buildings, but not really the food. We used to go to Carey Hilliard’s when I lived there.

I remember the house where I lived in Savannah. I liked the house a lot. We had a jacuzzi and pool. Kinda like here, but just different.

I get tired at work. I have a table where I put 5 pieces of bolts together. To relax, I like to travel and go on vacation.

I like to go places to see different things and see what’s exciting.

Travel is fun, exciting and unique. Sometimes it’s boring—the journey. I’m more of a destination traveler. It’s long and boring to get to the places sometimes... we have to stop for gas or use the restroom. And, sometimes you have to stop and eat. My fun time is being at the place—the destination.

When I leave Charleston, I like to go visit Florida (Orlando & The Keys), North Carolina (Lake Junaluska), Tennessee (Dollywood & Pigeon Forge), and sometimes Alabama (Bremen... to visit friends).

In North Carolina, I go to Lagoalinda Lodge in Lake Junaluska for a choral retreat—we sing, we go out to eat and just have fun. My favorite part is eating cheese grits.

In Tennessee, I go to Dollywood for fun—but we stay in Pigeon Forge. We go see different shows: sometimes rock n’ roll or 50’s music, but mostly gospel shows. It’s never the same show—there are a bunch of different people singing.

In Florida, I go to Universal Studios & Islands of Adventure—I love going to Halloween Horror Nights even though I don’t like scary things. It’s a lot of fun. I actually enjoy these scary things—the monsters in the haunted houses and scare zones on the way to the lines. I also enjoy riding the rides in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and in the Studios I love riding E.T.

When I’m in Orlando, I sometimes visit Disney World & Epcot—and see Mickey Mouse. Normally we go at Christmas for the Candlelight Processional; at that time we also make a trip to Universal to listen to Mannheim Steamroller. I like to ride rides and have fun. At Magic Kingdom I love to ride Small World, but in Epcot I have to visit Mexico and ride the Grand Fiesta Tour.

In Alabama, I go visit my friends Carol & Tommy (Chicken and Dunkin’ as I like to call them) on the lake in Bremen. I enjoy sitting in the rocking chair and looking down on the lake—it's both fun and relaxing.

If I have some extra time, I like to drive on (or have someone drive me) down to the Keys. I love the beach water—it's beautiful—it's clear. I love to put my feet in the sand and go swimming. Sometimes we bring out the snorkeling gear to see all the fish.

My idea of a perfect trip? I’d say a cruise. It’s a fun and different experience. There are all kinds of different things on a cruise ship--- one has gambling, another is a Disney cruise ship. Some have comedy and concerts and things to do on a cruise ship. And, karaoke-- that’s one of my favorite things to do.

You don’t have to buy the food, but you do have to pay for the drinks. You have to drink tea when you don’t buy the drink package. There are some things you can buy on a cruise ship that you can’t buy off of it—Duty Free Shopping, for instance. When I’m on the ship I like to shop for a couple things.

I enjoy the ports of call when we get to get off of the cruise ship. A different place that I’ve been on a cruise and one of my favorites is Jamaica. I love all of the colors. I enjoyed the country; it was exciting and fun. If I could say anything to someone from Jamaica—I'd ask them how it is to live there in Jamaica to learn a little bit more about their culture.

When I’m on the cruise ship, my most favorite thing is the water. I love just sitting and looking at the water. Sometimes when it gets too hot, I can go back to the room. When it’s nighttime I look at the moon—I love looking at the moon at nighttime on a cruise ship.

I have taken several cruises and have gotten to go to Mexico. We visited the Mayan Ruins and I got to eat Mexican food. The sites were beautiful and everything was very colorful. I’d like to return some day and spend some time there—a longer period of time.

Some places I’ve traveled on a Cruise are: Jamaica, Mexico, Bahamas, Key West.

But, I think I’d like to go back to Mexico for a longer stay.

My dream vacation? If money was no issue and I won a trip to anywhere in the world—I would choose Tahiti. In your mind you wanna go to Tahiti... different things are there. I picture a boat—a cruise ship. I’m looking at all kinds of things. Mom really wants to go there.

My advice to anyone traveling--

Be careful. Be safe. Don’t talk to sketchy strangers. It’s ok to talk to people and be nice, but be cautious. And be respectful of the people in that country you’re visiting.

~ John Joyner

Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Missing Siblings

My father had a tattoo on his upper arm that was hidden most of the time by the sleeve of his shirt. Back in the 50s, men would sometimes roll up even the short sleeves on a shirt. I would see the name “Ethel” tattooed on his arm and because it started with the letter “E,” I just assumed it was “Ellen,” my mother's name. As I grew older and could read, I asked him what it meant. He and my mom would just laugh and shrug it off.

When I was 12 years old, my parents decided to tell me that my father had been married before and had two children by this previous marriage. I heard what he was saying but it took me a while to really grasp what all that really meant. I had a sister and a brother!?!? That just did not seem real.

I don't know how your family was about “family gossip,” but mine was very “closed-mouthed.” One did not say anything about another family member—unless it was “good.” So, finding out information to pursue locating my siblings was almost impossible.

During our courtship, my future husband, asked about the “Ethel tattoo,” so I divulged my secret. Once we were married, he was on a mission to make my dream a reality because he knew how much I wanted to meet my siblings.

Now understand, this was not an overnight process. This took years of asking many questions with many phone calls (unbeknownst to me).

I didn't find out until years later that David had actually talked to my mother and brother’s mom, Ethel, on the phone and had gathered information from her. He also had talked to my sister who was married to a career military man, and was in the middle of a move and said it was not possible for us to meet at that time.

There were many other setbacks along the way.

Many years passed.

My cousin Gwen wanted me to meet my sister and brother as much as I did. My sister had for years met with her college suitemates at Edisto Beach. Between Gwen and my husband, they planned a reunion at Edisto Beach so my sister and I could spend the day together.

I can remember how scared I was at the time grew closer for our meeting. The suggestion was me that maybe we should speak on the phone first. So, a time was set for that conversation. The conversation between us was exciting but strange because I just didn't know what to talk about!

Can you believe that?

I was speechless! So, the both of us fumbled our way through that conversation making small talk—like how long it would take to drive from her location to Edisto Beach. The conversation only lasted a few minutes but we did settle on a time for the our first get together.

The day came for us to meet.

I must have gone through 10 outfits before I finally picked something out. I also gathered photos of family members and pictures of “our” father for her to see because I didn't know if she had ever seen a picture of him.

The drive to Edisto, which was only an hour, felt like it was forever but I made it. My cousin Gwen had already arrived and a few minutes later my sister Susan pulled up in the driveway.

I walked over to her and gave her a big hug and thought, “Hey we look like each other. She has the same smile!” And smile the rest of the day we did. I showed her pictures, we asked questions of each other, we shared memories and stories.

What a glorious day it was but everything must come to an end. And, before you knew it, I was on my drive home to Charleston.

Did I want the day to end? Absolutely not!

But we agreed that we would get together soon. We weren't going to let any more time slip away from us. After all, we were sisters! We were family.

Black, White and Blue Year’s Eve

New Year's Eve, 19-something something. Just can't remember the year.

We, along with a number of friends, decided we would all get together and go out on the town. Now you have to understand that we were not a drinking group. Along with us were a minister of music, an associate at another church and two daughters of ministers. Most of whom were Baptist!

There goes the fun! Just kidding!

There may have been a long beer or two at our table but I just don't remember. This was the kind of party where you had dinner, live music and dancing, and ringing in the new year with breakfast a little later on. We laughed and ate and listened to music till the wee hours of the morning.

We were giving our pastor's daughter a ride home so it was just the three of us in our car. Our sons had asked that we bring home something for them from the party. You know, like—hats, noisemakers, streamers and balloons!

Great. We had plenty of those since most in our group we're not carrying anything home. They politely gave us their favors to take home to our children.

We had a small car at the time. My husband and I in the front and my friend in the back - squeezed in amongst 10 or 12 - black and white balloons. I'm sure you are getting a clear picture of this and know where the story is going, right?

We start home, just casually put putting down the road - no traffic anywhere - when all of a sudden - blue lights in our rearview mirror! My husband glanced at me with questioning eyes, then glanced down at the speedometer. “What the heck?” he said. “I'm not speeding or anything. Why is he pulling me?”

Slowly we made our way over to the side of the road. In a minute, the policeman walked up to the driver side window and said, “May I see your license please?”

David asked the officer, “Why am I being pulled?”

The policeman leaned into the window just a little and said, “You have too many people in your car!” Then, realizing that he was looking at a car full of black and white balloons—paused, smiled and said, “You have a nice evening, sir.” And, walked away.

We turned around to check out the back seat and there, smiling among all those black and white balloons, was the sweet face of our pastor's daughter. I still don't know how he thought we could cram so many people in the backseat of that small car.

We went on our merry way home thankful that it wasn't something serious we were being pulled for. And, to this day when we see the preacher's daughter, we are reminded of that eventful New Year's Eve, 19-something something.

~ Jeannie Joyner

Stealing Christmas

Holiday meals! How I love holiday meals!

And I love using my best china, crystal, napkins, and silverware that I take out for these events!

Did you ever have to count these things before you would store them away until next time? I never did until one year after a party I was hosting; I noticed that a piece of my flatware was missing. Now, I have junkie, mismatched flatware that I use every day but that was my good flatware that I used when company came over. All I could think was that this piece must have gotten thrown out in the trash!

Seven Forks! Where was the 8th? Not here! Oh no!

Christmas—best China, best crystal, silver, napkins; everyone had contributed their most delicious and best ever casseroles, vegetables, desserts—so why would we not use our best?

We sat down to devour the homemade meal and we also decided that we would open one or two of our gifts. So, we pass around some of the smaller gifts for each to open. Fun. While the gift exchange was going on and we were in desert mode, I decided to start clearing and hand washing the dishes.

Wash. Dry. Stack.

Wash. Dry. Stack.

But don't put them away yet.

Count: Spoons, knives, forks.

Forks? NOT ALL ARE HERE! Only 7. Should be 8! Are you kidding me?

By the time all the dishes were washed and stacked I was missing one napkin, one fork and one salad plate. Checked trash can, checked all rooms. Nothing.

Frustration set in.

No stone was left unturned but still these items were never found.

January and we decided that we would go through the pictures on my phone just to remember the holidays. In the pictures, we were all sitting around the dinner table. There was my mother-in-law (who had dementia) with a present on her lap—something my sister-in-law had given me—and then... there in Louise's hands was my dinner napkin that she was folding. I thought, “let me go get that present and check inside the box!” I open the box and there was my napkin where she had carefully folded and placed it inside.

Caught on camera!

Never did find the fork and salad plate but I do know the only place we did not check was her purse.

One would think that counting one’s silver, China, etc. would not be necessary when families gather to celebrate on special occasions to ask but think again.

So - yes - I still stack my plates, cups, silverware, etc. as I count each piece before placing them in a special spot on the buffet. We could never say (with 100% accuracy) that it was the “Sticky Fingers” of my mother-in-law but since she passed away a few years ago nothing has gone missing. It always gives us a chuckle at the holidays as we start to take out all the “company” dishes and we have the opportunity to retell the story to the newcomers.

Like my aunt used to say to me when she would see these items stored away, “Well, Jeannie, what are you saving them for?” You know, she was right. I don't save anything anymore I would rather have all these wonderful memories to pass down to the next generation.

~Jeannie Joyner

The Gift of the Magi(c)

Many of you know that I have the good fortune of having the 24th of December as my birthday. I have been told many times that others see that more as a curse than a blessing. For too long I conceded to that opinion.

It was on my 5th birthday that I found out that very few others shared the same date nor the same month. In those days we had Channel 2´s ¨Lucky Two Ranch¨- a kid´s program that allowed birthday parties on air. December being a slow month for such made for the party to remember for a lifetime. My dad took my older brother Tommy, myself and a couple of friends over to the TV station for our local debut. My mother was at home with my brothers Ronnie and Rusty watching her “Christmas child” on TV.

We had to wait till after the trip for the actual party at home with the cake and festivities, but I was granted one gift before leaving – my new shoes.

Those of my age, the few of you left who can still see or have someone read to you, understand the significance of that sort of gift in a household with four boys.

I was really proud of those shoes – they were new and they were mine! All of that didn´t matter the moment that Tony Glen (the host) asked what I had gotten for my birthday. The lights in my eyes and the camera on me and the microphone in my face, I proudly blurted out, ¨a new pair of shoes.¨ I didn´t expect laughter from the audience or the stage hands, so when prodded for other information about gifts, I simply said, ¨That´s all.¨ At that moment, all the thrill of the occasion seemed to disappear.

Both parents expressed their mortification at my seeming lack of gratitude for the other gifts that had been given. This especially since they were separate from the Christmas presents waiting for the next morning.

I know that for the next eleven years, birthdays seemed to be lost in the holidays for me. Granted, life was full with school and church and neighborhood activities: playground sports, newspaper routes, lawnmowing appointments – and of course – more school.

Day after Labor Day blues and the first day of school 1963.

Nothing much to talk about until I saw David Strickland, one of my dad’s “notorious” Sunday School students, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. No, I had to notify as many of the guys and girls as I could to feed David´s angst at being a fish out of water.

Midway through this time of friendly greeting, I noticed an unknown but very attractive brunette coming our direction. I stopped long enough to see her whisper something to David, have a reply from him, then turn to walk back to the group she was with.

When asked for her name, David laughed and said, ¨you´ll never know¨.

That thought lingered with me all day till time for Algebra I. I walked into class and was thrilled to see HER sitting there in a row with an empty desk behind. God was smiling on me that day.

I found a new purpose in life just to come to class to sit behind her so I could hide from Mrs. McGloughlin while I did my best to make sure that THIS GIRL was totally aware of who I was and how much I wanted her in my world. As time passed, I grabbed every chance I could to be wherever she was.

The need for homework assignments led to many bike rides to her house under false pretenses. Three months felt like years. These months felt like we had known each other a lifetime.

The warm summer weather gave way to the mild chill of December.

 I got the nerve to invite her to our annual Christmas Choir program and fellowship afterward. Hearing her say, “Yes,” gave me needed confidence and determination to ask her to go steady.

Another “Yes” and my heart was soaring.      

I could not have imagined a more beautiful Christmas. I managed to find a simple charm bracelet that has become full with commemoratives for a life rich with blessings and memories that make Christmas very special for me. When this beautiful lady wears that bracelet, I will always be reminded that the spirit of Christmas is present all year… Not just late December.

Oh, Mom and Dad, thank you too.

~ David Joyner

Peanut Butter Blonde on Blondie

Cook: 40 min/ Prep: 10 min/ Total: 50 min

Servings: 20 Bars

INGREDIENTS:

1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar

¾ cup firmly packed dark brown sugar

1 cup unsalted butter

2 ¼ cups all-purpose flour

¾ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

2 large eggs

1 ¼ tsp pure vanilla extract

1 ½ cups white chocolate chips

½ cup peanut butter crunchy or creamy

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat oven 355 degrees F.

2. Line a 12 x 12 pan with parchment paper, lightly buttered (spray works too).

3. Melt unsalted butter.

4. Combine sugar & butter until smooth.

5. Combine dry ingredients (flour, baking soda & salt). Mix well.

6. Add vanilla to sugary mixture.

7. Beat in the eggs to the sugary mixture.

8. Add dry mixture little by little forming a batter-like dough.

9. Fold in white chocolate chips.

10. Scoop batter into the cooking dish.

11. Bake for 25 minutes.

12. Melt peanut butter in microwave and drizzle on top; 20 seconds at a time, stirring in between, for 60 seconds.

13. Return to oven and bake for 15 minutes until golden brown around edges.

14. Test using a toothpick in the center of the pan… those babies are done when the toothpick comes out clean!

This one goes out to all you out there who cannot indulge in the cocoa.

Mouths open. Pinkies up. Cheers to all us Fancy Bitches!

Food, Glorious Food!

Have I talked about food?

I tell myself that I like to talk about stuff. Any kinds of things I come up with though, it’s hard to talk about.

No. I like food.

Since we’re right in the middle of the holidays…

Thanksgiving. I prefer turkey over ham with some cranberry sauce. Gotta have my dressing. And, rice and gravy. And.... I’ve gotta have my macaroni and cheese. Mom makes it and It’s my favorite mac and cheese in the world. For dessert, I’ve gotta have my favorite banana pudding dessert. I also like pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving.

Well, at Christmas Dinner-- mac n cheese, rice & gravy. Not as much turkey at Christmas—I prefer ham over turkey for this holiday. Sometimes you get dressing for Christmas, but I prefer it at Thanksgiving. Dessert-wise, I normally eat chocolate fudge!

And, of course, mac and cheese!

My favorite food is macaroni and cheese. It’s always been my favorite. The first time I ever remember having it would be the blue box—Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. There’re different kinds of tastes of macaroni. Some I like to eat some that I don’t like to eat. I don’t like low-fat milk—it's not rich and creamy and cheesy.

Other types that I like are all cheese-based but also Italian macaroni—which is like alfredo—a white sauce. It’s not like the regular cheese, which is yellow, cheddar cheese.

The best macaroni in town—I'm not sure...

Some places that I like to go and order it though. Captain D’s had an ok one, but theirs isn’t as good anymore. I still LOVE their fish. Piccadilly and S&S Cafeteria used to have a good one too. It’s good—the noodles are bigger than Kraft but it’s still creamy.

Recently, Charleston Sports Pub has had a really good one—I like the one with the shrimp in it. I really like to get the Mac Burger there as well—they put the macaroni and cheese on TOP of the burger!

We do Friday Night Supper Club—we get together and eat ‘cause it’s fun. We go to different places; places we haven’t been before. It evolved but began with mom and dad and I. Now, Clois & Lay (Lois and Clay in John speak), Mike & Linda, sometimes RayRon (Ray and Ron) and Uncle Tommy.

And whoever else we invite that pops up from time to time.

Out of all the places I’ve experienced with Supper Club, I think my favorite is probably Harvest Moon, followed closely by Charleston Sports Pub but I can’t choose a third—ok, another favorite is Southside 17.

I just love Harvest Moon and Southside 17!

When I’m out of town, my favorite restaurant... Is... Margaritaville! I’ve been to the ones in Orlando, Myrtle Beach, Turks & Caicos, and... Pigeon Forge... I think.

My favorite type of food? Mexican. That’s my favorite cuisine. I order the Speedy Gonzales—a taco and Mexican rice and refried beans.

If I could only eat one thing for the rest of my life on a desert island it would be salad. ‘Cause that’s healthy.

~ John Joyner

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!

Get To the Point

(A Brief History of White Point Garden)

Living in a city like Charleston you develop a very strong appreciation for history, particularly local history. Everywhere you go there are reminders to tell you who did what, when, where, and why -- and sometimes how.

Let's start at the most obvious point on the city’s map—White Point Garden. When you climb the Battery wall (promenade) and look toward the ocean, you will see a number of known historic sites. Fort Sumter, Fort Moultrie, Castle Pinckney, Sullivan's Island, and the USS Yorktown are the most notable visible sites to see.

Oyster Point (now White Point) is the first place seen by the original settlers and those who brought them. Because of the bleached white oyster shells dumped at this point, both names have been used for the entirety of the park behind the Point. As early as the 1720s, Charles Towne officials and maritime defenders had captured and hung many of the pirates and their crews that populate the Romantic history of that day (as can be read about in our blog-- Fully Charged: A Brief History of the Battery).

The great hurricanes of 1724 and 1752 left the White Point area desolate, destroying both landscape and housing. It was during this period that the Point began to develop with the addition of a “log “seawall to protect the new elegant homes. Charleston’s well-to-do decided to build upon the newly filled low spots along the point. The hurricane of 1804 took out the seawall of log which was replaced with a wall of ballast stone. This new wall allowed the park to develop over the next Century of public space used for all sorts of events that endured the “park” (White Point Park) to Charleston.

Over the three centuries of White Point Garden’s existence, numerous pieces were added. During the Revolutionary War as fortifications were built, various “cannons” were placed to aid in that effort. The same was true during the Civil War as the Confederate troops attempted to hold Charleston as Union troops persisted in their effort to lay siege. Other cannon and mortars were put in place and remain there to this day.

The Monuments that dot the greenspace vary in time from that which recognized the contribution of Major General William Moultrie from the Revolutionary War, to the Confederate Memorial for those who defended Charleston, to the memorial of those who died aboard the USS Amberjack, SS219 on March 22nd, 1943—73 crewmen were aboard when the submarine was sunk by Japanese gunboats.

The most obvious structure by size in the area is the White Point Garden Bandstand which was donated to the city in 1907 by Mrs. Martha Covington as a memorial to her parents, Mr. and Mrs. George Wilson Williams. The Williams family were the original owners of the well-known Calhoun mansion on Meeting Street just four blocks from White Point Garden. Mrs. Carrington and family-owned and resided at number two Meeting Street—now the famous to Meeting Street Inn. These homes are just two of the significant (structurally and historically) homes that line the battery and adjoin White Point.

White Point Garden was yesterday and is today Charleston's Premier outdoor area to take in Charleston's beauty and history. Our hope is that nothing will change that gracious, welcoming image to our charming city for many years to come.

~ David Joyner

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

The Candy Man Can

I’ve got a sweet tooth.

I like candy. Chocolate is my favorite. I’m not a licorice eater. Everything I eat and really enjoy is chocolate.

I like regular chocolate, some dark chocolate, and white chocolate with chocolate chips because it’s sweet. I get the urge to eat a little bit of chocolate, but not all the time-- I don’t go crazy with it. Chocolate makes me happy. It gives me energy, but does it make me hyper? No!

Reese’s and Kit-Kats, Nestle’s Crunch… I know I like to get these. But my favorite growing up was regular M&M’s. Sometimes I would eat the different types of M&M’s like Easter and Fourth of July-- all the different colors and flavors. I know I like the peanut butter in the red bag, the dark chocolate in the dark blue bag, I don’t think I’ve had the coffee-flavored, but I KNOW I like to eat mint candies-- I haven’t had the M&M mint flavor, but I know I’d like them too because I love having mints after I eat my meals.

Candy Bar-- If I had to pick… Hershey’s Cookies and Cream Bar is my favorite.

Oh yeah, I like ice cream. It’s sweet and tasty and delicious. I like chocolate ice cream-- like chocolate chips, the Oreo cookie kind-- Cookies N’ Creme. I like putting sprinkles and sometimes cherries and the hard crackle shell. Bryer’s is tasty. I like the flavors with chocolate in it like mint chocolate chip, rocky road, but I had plain chocolate before I tried all those others, so it’s my favorite because it pretty much tastes the same and it’s always in stock wherever you go!

I like cookies: All cookies… mostly Oreos and Chocolate Chip Cookies-- Chips Ahoy! or Tollhouse soft-batch. But I prefer the hard ones with a crisp to them. Nabisco’s white fudge chunky Chips Ahoy! is good-- it has chunks of all the chocolates in it. But, Pepperidge Farm’s Sausalito and Tahoe in the white bag are my favorites-- both have the macadamia nuts in them with chocolate-- either regular (Sausalito) or white chocolate (Tahoe).

Things I don’t like?

I’m not a licorice eater. And, I don’t really care for those candies that are sour.

Although mostly everything I really enjoy is chocolate... I eat jelly beans and gummy bears too.

I like trying new things-- my friends, Brandon & Kristen, take me to World Market and I get to pick out new things-- European chocolates. I’ve tried the Aerated chocolates, Milka Bars with Chips Ahoy!

Speaking of the World… I will travel for sweets.

Once, I went to Hershey’s Park. They had a Hershey’s stoplight-- like a Hershey’s bar, the street lights are the shape of a Hershey’s Chocolate Kiss, the streets are named after chocolate too. It smells good-- the whole entire place smells like chocolate. I got a postcard from there with different candies names like Hershey’s and Reese’s and different ones on the front. It’s beautiful. There was a boat ride there.

Downtown Disney-- Ghirardelli-- our trip isn’t complete without stopping here. They give you free samples. It smells like chocolate and it’s really good. I like to get the Brownie sundae. I get a Cherry Coke there. It’s not on the menu, but it’s the best.

I also like gingerbread. The Gingerbread House in the Grand Floridian at Disney at Christmastime was beautiful and smells good. The house was life-sized and I got to walk into it. Would I like to live in it? No. It’s good to look at and visit but I wouldn’t want to live there.

There’s a sweet for every season:

Easter-- Bunny Candy: Hershey’s Chocolate bunnies or Reese’s pieces in the shape of a carrot.

Birthday-- Chocolate Ice Cream. Only 1 scoop. But, topped with caramel and chocolate chips.

Christmas-- Fudge

Halloween-- CANDY! Well, I say candy because there are a lot of different kinds of candies and I get to go a little crazy. Hmmm… only 1?!? Nestle’s Crunch!

If you’ve never tried candy-- you should try the different tastes of sweetness. Some are good and very sweet, not sour. See what you like, there are a lot of choices and always something else to try!

~John Joyner

Trilogy of Terror

Who doesn’t love one last, good scare?

October is over. It’s true. But before the “amber waves of grain” go all “snowcapped mountains white,” we might have one more yarn. One last fright.

This is more Treehouse of Horror than anything else, so please keep up.

I grew up watching horror movies. Lots of them. My parents maybe should have been more protective of my cinematic childhood, but that is a therapy session for another day.

I remember watching Friday the 13th Part 7 where a young girl with psychic powers raises Jason Vorhees from the dead to wreak havoc one last time… until the next last time. Or Nightmare on Elm Street 4. Was that one Dream Warriors? Nah. That was Part 3. Four was…The Dream Master. (Thank you, Google.) Part 4 has my favorite quote. “Swish. Killed the fish.”

Hilarious in and out of context.

But there’s a distance there. A space between me sitting in the living room cuddled up with the blue glow of the TVs with actual tubes and the maniacal serial killers haunting the woods or your dreams or certain parts of Texas.

Today, let’s talk about real scares. Personal scares. And, since we’ve just mentioned them, let’s start at the movies.

Let me confide something in you. I thought that Scream was a tired idea before it came out. I was mistaken. It – at the time – was one of the scariest movies I had ever seen. But I was wrong about the girl on a video tape coming out of a well. (What the heck were you thinking, The Ring filmmakers?)

Like I said, I’ve been wrong in the past. I’ll be wrong in the future.

Ghostface became part of the cultural zeitgeist. Seeing a person dressed all in black with a bright white mask and wielding a hunting knife just became the norm. After the over one-hundred million dollar success of the original and a couple of sequels – this is before an underrated fourth in the series and three seasons of an undercooked tv series – people know who the heck Ghostface is. But, sitting in the darkened theater over twenty years ago, I had no idea what I was in for.

From the opening phone call with Drew to the final jump scare, I was all in. Along for the ride.

There are things now known as 4-D movie theaters. Once upon a time, this type of experience was contained in the fenced-in confines of a theme park. Water shooting you in the face. Bubbles falling from the ceiling. Fans stirring up smoke and blowing it around your seat.

Do you remember when I said I was along for the ride?

This was a 4-D theater before 4-D theaters existed. I hooped and hollered. I jumped at every stabby moment. I held hands and then twisted said hands until the blood was thoroughly rung out of said hands. I might have ended up sitting in a someone’s lap. But, I’ll never tell.

The kids who flanked me on either side? They never saw it coming.

Years later, I would revisit this same “thrill.” Most might not know, but the couple of days following Halloween are a fantastically deeply discounted time for us fans of the macabre. I snagged a full-sized, animatronic Ghostface from Spirit. And the fun began…

He was hidden all around the house to scare whomever was dumb enough not to see him coming. In showers. In the pantry. But… if you’re not paying attention after a fun night and a few drinks. Your mom is able to subtly put it behind the front door. You walk in completely oblivious. See a dark masked figure with a knife raised above its head. You could scream to the heavens and crumple to the floor.

I’m not saying this happened to me… But it could have…

Since it was just yesterday, let’s tell a tale of Halloween.

I do not like haunted places. I don’t wander grave yards at night. I don’t tempt fate heading into places where bad things have historically happened and where the miffed ghosts of the past may still wander the halls/tombstones/shady medical establishments.

Don’t start nothing. Won’t be nothing.

Some friends decided that heading to the Old Charleston Jail for a ghost tour would be the most splendiferous of all ideas. It’s not. That place is haunted. Don’t be dumb.

If you haven’t checked out our history on the Old City Jail that we posted on October 25th, skip over there when you’re done here.

Anyway…

We are dressed up in all kinds of Halloween garb. Some of us pirates, some of doctors. You get it. I was dressed in gold lame. Elvis Presley, baby.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

And we start the tour. This place was used for water torture. This is where they used electroshock therapy. These bars held this bad dude right across from that crazy lady. All in good fun, yeah?

A couple of the actors dressed as inmates are grabbing for us behind a set of thick iron bars. The tour guide yells, slams their hands with a billy club, slamming the outer huge iron door. SLAM! It echoed…

Then they continue with all the gory and gruesome details of the misdeeds done by those in charge over what seemed like millions of years. And… the huge iron door swung open narrowly missing me and my “friends.”

What did I do, you ask? I did what any sane man would do.

I screamed. Loud and high. And I picked up a male counterpart and threw them at the actor who jumped out and scared me.

My friend tells the story later, “I was walking forward and then… I wasn’t. I was facing left as I was being launched at one of the people running the tour.”

We made a hasty get away only seconds later.

But scares are rarely contained to the thirty-one days of October. A great shock to your system can be waiting around any and all corners.

Years ago…

Another friend, who at this point was living in Orlando, asked if I wanted to go Universal Studios. Now it’s no big deal. We head down to Universal Studios several times a year if we’re able.

We go religiously. (Don’t tell Jesus. The big turkey legs make him nervous.)

This was my first time.

And they have/had/have a Jurassic Park Ride. I love Jurassic Park. Dinos are my favorite. Love, love, love.

But… I’m so excited about this new (to me) attraction, I’m paying attention to exactly zero percent of the warning signs.

Does it have a brachiosaurus? (“Please remain seated at all times.”)

I wonder if there’s a raptor cage. (“Keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle.”)

Wait… after this I can go and pet a triceratops? (“People who are pregnant, have high blood pressure or heart conditions or are just not paying attention to these signs should not ride.”)

We hopped in a large boat and… we’re off.

“Welcome… to Jurassic Park. (Dun dun dun duuun dun. Dun dun dun duuun dun.)”

I am in heaven. Here’s an Ultrasaur. A stegosaurus. Don’t forget the Psittacosaurus, whatever that is. My eyes are open and I am a kid. Just excited to be there.

Then things went south.

A lizard throws us off course by head butting us from below. The raptor cage that I was wondering about? There it is. But the raptors inside have gotten loose. No Bueno. Where have they gone?

Two compys fight over scraps of clothing which I assumed were from a dead guy. The raptor cage from the first movie? DROPPED from above, stopping just above our heads.

This is not what I signed up for.

Bring back the Stegosaurus!

Then, a dark tunnel. Broken glass. Blood. Raptors left and right. Jumping out at us. Clawing. Hissing. Dilophosaurs spitting just like in the movie. Now, a welcome relief from the Florida heat, then another thing surprising me on what I assumed to be a peaceful water taxi tour through time. I was holding on to the lap bar for dear life. The entire time I had not noticed that we had been transported up and up and up through a chain system. Think “Splash Mountain” with teeth. Yet, that wasn’t the end of it.

And this terrifying enemy surfaced, as such enemies often do, in the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of places.

A large gaping black void sat in front of us. A roar bellowed at full force and stomping right toward us was the king mama jama. A full-size Tyrannosaurus Rex. I was a dead man. No one – but everyone else on the boat – saw this coming. Not only was he headed for us, but we were headed for him. The worst game of chicken ever.

A shaft of light from underneath. I looked down at the only way out. An 85-foot drop. Then? The clawing, hissing and spitting were from me. I expected none of this.

FLASH.

They took a picture of the most scared I have ever been in my entire life, the masochists. And then sold it to me for 14 bucks.

Please see the below:

So… If someone rings you. Asks what’s your favorite scary movie? Or tells you that you have only seven days to live? Or invites you to a haunted house? A theme park maybe?

Just say no. Hang up. And re-watch Friends. Because there’s safety in numbers.

~ Brandon L. Joyner

In the Jailhouse Now

A Brief History of Charleston’s Old City Jail

For the bulk of America’s population, the idea of visiting a jail creates a very broad spectrum of emotion— from curiosity to horror. The “Old Jail” of Charleston elicits all of those emotions because of the reality and folklore that surrounds it. As noted by frequent visitors of Charleston (Michal and Lin Easton of Hendersonville, NC): “...the Southern air was alive and well, but... inside these walls [it] was truly the last breath of so many from years before.”

Reality, of necessity, is tied to the origin and use of the jail as well as the design, construction, and multiple renovations required by the several acts of God visited upon this edifice.

The Charleston district jail was built in 1802 and served the district until 1939 and housed many inmates from various walks of life over the years. A four-acre site, a portion of which was allotted for the Old Jail, was designated by the City of Charleston for public use. It also included space for a hospital, a poorhouse, and a work house for runaway slaves.

The original structure was four stories tall with a two-story octagonal tower. Later renovations and reconstructions included: a rear octagonal wing, expansions to the main building, and the Romanesque revival details. The fireproof wing, designed in 1822 by Robert Mills, was replaced by Barbot & Seyle’s designs. The earthquake of 1886 caused the removal of the badly damaged tower and top-story of the main building. All that remains today are the three stories. However, it is noted that Bulldog Tours (who currently guides guests on haunted visits) will be contributing a large amount toward the reconstruction of the Old Jail.

Some of Charleston’s most infamous criminals & Civil War Federal Prisoners of War called this “home.” “Notable” inmates included: Stede Bonnet and his crew (1718), John & Lavinia Fisher (1819-1820), some of the final remaining sea pirates (1821), and Denmark Vessey (1822). Of these, the most vicious was Lavinia. She was the first female serial killer in the United States. To this day, she is said to be roaming the halls of the Old Jail as her famous last words were: “If you have a message for the Devil, tell me and I’ll deliver it myself.”

When you look at the face of the building it drives home the fact that people have been there and heard things... voices... screams; seen things move... felt the cool breezes rush over them... or even had the hairs on the back of their necks tingle! As one tours the building, the realization that thousands of inmates died within these walls, the idea that some of their spirits remain, easily leads one to wonder whether what they heard or felt or thought they saw just might be one of those lingering souls.

~ David 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

Fully Charged

A Brief History of The Battery

Charleston has many historical landmarks and as you venture through our wonderful city, you will see most of them. Though you might not realize the exact history behind it, the Battery is one of these intrinsic points of Charleston history.

When the settlers first sailed into what is now Charleston Harbor, looking for a place to land, they passed the tip of the peninsula and landed at Albermarle Point down the Ashley River in 1670. By 1678, it had become obvious that the point that they had passed was the most suitable for a protected settlement. Oyster Point was the name given because the Indians had dumped all of the waste oysters at that point in the area above the low water mark where the Cooper and Ashley Rivers converged.

Colonel William Sayle, the first governor, noted about the area, “It is as it were a KEY to open and shutt this settlement into safety or danger,” in his letter to Lord Ashley, the lord’s proprietor. Defensive positions began to be established to fight off the pirates of that day. In 1718, the notorious Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard, blockaded Charleston Harbor in order to blackmail the royal governor for medical supplies. Blackbeard threatened execution of a number of prominent citizens he had captured. The governor complied and the citizens were released. Getting no response from the lord’s proprietors when asked for assistance, the local merchants banded together with William Rhett as their commander. Capturing Stede Bonnett, the gentleman pirate, they brought him to Charleston to be tried. His crew was first to be sentenced to be hanged. This hanging took place on the limbs of the Grand Oak Trees which fronted along the Battery. On November 8th they were left hanging for days with the expectation that their captain would soon join them. Due to Stede’s pleading, his trial was delayed 7 times. Bonnett was ultimately hung on December 10th, 1718 at the White Point portion of the Battery.

The Battery has seen attempts to capture Charleston throughout the years from the Revolutionary War to the Civil War. As a result, there are many fortifications from Water Street around the point and back to the foot of King Street. During the Revolutionary War, those fortifications included Colleton Bastion at Water and Meeting Streets, Broughton and Fort Wilkins at Oyster Point, and Gibbes Fort at the foot of King Street.  Battery Ramsey occupied White Point Garden during the Civil War.  Even though the city of Charleston does not recognize the Battery Park or White Point Garden as “official designations,” the citizens of Charleston will always direct you to “The Battery” if you should ask for directions to either of those destinations.

As the City of Charleston continued to grow and develop, the seawall at Oyster Point was built first using large tree trunks. Along that portion of the Battery from Water Street to the point. One of Charleston’s early hurricanes washed the wall away. It was later replaced with a rock wall that became the foundation for the Battery that we know today.

Along both Murray Boulevard and East Bay Street, you will find glorious homes of great distinction and architectural design. They vary from the simple Row House structures on Murray to the very large mansions of East Bay along High Battery. Looking out across the harbor away from those homes, one can see Charleston´s new Ravenel Bridge, Patriot´s Points´ U.S.S. Yorktown, Castle Pinckney, Fort Sumter, and James Island.

Today, the Battery has been developed into a grand promenade. Both High and Low Battery now run from Chalmers Street, around the point, and down the length of Murray Boulevard. This thoroughfare sees countless pedestrian and vehicle traffic on both the seawall’s sidewalk and the avenues that are considered to be Charleston’s Battery. If you haven´t visited this spot in Charleston yet, you’re in for a real visual treat!

~ David Joyner

Ginger-Shortbread Cookies

Prep: 10 minutes/ Cook: 25 minutes/ Cooling: 15 minutes/ Total Time 50 minutes

Servings 30-40 cookies

INGREDIENTS:

2 Sticks-- 1 c-- Butter (Salted)*

1 Stick--½ c-- Butter (Unsalted)-- to make Browned Butter**

¾ c Brown Sugar

½ c Molasses

3 ½ c All-Purpose Flour

1 tsp Baking Soda

1 Egg

1 ½ tsp Cinnamon, ground

2 tsp Ginger, ground

½ tsp Nutmeg, ground

1 tsp Vanilla Extract

½ c Powdered Sugar

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Brown 1 stick of unsalted butter in a pan over medium heat (approx. 2 min.).

   1. Butter will melt, foam and then brown. 

   2. See ** note below.

2. Mix all ingredients until thoroughly combined. 

1. Begin by creaming 2 sticks of salted butter at medium speed for 30 sec.

2. If browned butter is in solid form (made prior to now), add in/cream here. (But, if the butter has just been browned at the top of the recipe & still in liquid form, add in at step d after the egg and molasses.)

3. Blend together butter and sugar.

   1. First, powdered. Continually mixing down the sides of the bowl until thoroughly combined.

   2. Then, brown. Again, mixing until thoroughly combined.

4. Add in a cracked egg and molasses.

5. At low speed, gradually pour in the flour.

6. Sprinkle in the baking soda, ginger, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and ginger (Hey, did we mention putting the ginger in?!?).

7. Drizzle in the vanilla extract.

8. This will all come together as a well-blended crumbly mixture.

3. Cover and stick in the freezer for 10 minutes until easy to handle.

4. At this point, you can choose your shape:

1. Circles: 

   1. If you want perfect circles, form the dough into a log-roll and wrap with parchment paper prior to chilling.

   2. Then, place in freezer for 15 minutes.

   3. Remove from freezer & take off paper.

   4. Cut into uniform circles approx. ⅛-¼” thick.

2. Cookie-Cutters:

   1. Place powdered sugar on a flat surface.

   2. Roll out the dough to approx. ⅛- ¼” thick.

   3. Use desired shape to make cookies.

3. Baker’s Choice: Shape these babies to your heart’s desire! ***

   1. Sprinkle powdered sugar over a flat surface.

   2. Roll out the dough to approx. ⅛-¼” thick.

   3. Form your shape with a pizza slicer into triangles, hand-patty into anything you like, cut out with a juice glass… the choice is yours!

5. Preheat oven to 335 F degrees.

6. Place cookies on 2 baking sheets or 1 extra-large one lined with parchment paper or silicone mats.

7. Bake 13-15 minutes at 335 F until just lightly browned & desired firmness is achieved.

8. Repeat steps 6 & 7 until all dough is used. (At least 2 cook sessions of 13-15 minutes.)

9. Cool on a plate or wire rack.

10. Optional: Sprinkle with additional powdered sugar.

** Browned Butter-- Place 1 stick of butter (cubed) into a small saucepan over Medium Heat. As soon as bubbles begin to form, start whisking. Continually stir for 2 minutes until you begin to see brown pieces at the bottom of the pan forming. Immediately remove from heat and continue to whisk for 30 seconds. This can be done ahead of time and stored in the fridge for up to 3 months or allow to cool before using.