In the Summertime...

I like the summer. Summer’s like—it's hot. Sometimes you go to the beach. And you go on vacation; sometimes cruises as well. And, it’s hot like Fourth of July. You do that kinda stuff. 

In the summertime you can go to the beach. Sit out there and get a little sun tan. The sun gives you vitamins. But, you don’t wanna get too much sun ‘cause the sun’s too dangerous. I put on sunscreen to stay safe. Sometimes you sit under the umbrella if you don’t wanna get too hot from the sun. Or a tent to relax. 

We sometimes have lunch out there—a picnic; other times we bring snacks. Just sit out there and enjoy the beach weather. Yeah, I do go in the water. Sometimes I sit in the chair at the edge of the water to look out at it and enjoy the sunshine. I put my toes in the sand and the water. Sometimes I try to build sandcastles in the sand. On the sand, I find many different shells—sand dollars and sometimes starfish—and crabs too! I watch the birds—the flocks of seagulls—flying in the sky too. 

Not only do I sit in the sun and sand, but I also like to walk back and forth from the chairs toward the lighthouse. 

We normally go to Folly. But I have been to other beaches too: Lion’s Beach and Kiawah, Cape Hatteras, the Keys in Florida—but they have lighter colored water down there and we have darker colored water here. 

I’ve been to the Keys so many times I’ve lost track. Sometimes we drive down there but we sometimes go there on cruises. It’s a long trip so we go halfway (like Orlando) and then continue on down (the FL coast). And, we do the same thing on the way back. 

Summer time we have hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill. We also have corn, beans, potato chips or potato salad. We drink sodas in the summer too with ice because it’s hot—in restaurants I don’t get ice because it’s already cold. And, sometimes we have picnics. It’s not always at the beach. We also go sit at the park downtown—sometimes it’s Waterfront, sometimes the Battery, sometimes Brittlebank—to eat, watch people having fun, look at the birds, but I love looking at the water. 

On the Fourth of July we cookout in the afternoon and then in the evening we get to watch fireworks. There are a lot of different shows for fireworks. But I think it would be here. Down by the water it’s nice to see the fireworks. My friend, Mike Christy, likes to set them off. I like seeing them here in town. But sometimes we get to see them in Florida when we’re on vacation at Universal and Disney (Epcot) 

As a kid, I’d love playing outside in the sunshine. I started out doing tricycle and then a little biking in the summer. But now I don’t really do that anymore. I know I’ve told you before, but I like to swim. The sun makes me wanna run around and play and get exercise. 

Summer, in 3 words... it’s: humid, beautiful, happy. It makes me feel warm inside; I love sitting in the sunshine. The sun makes me feel happy like I want to have fun in the sun.       

If you’re looking forward to the Summer, you’re not alone. Get out there in the sun. Drink a lot of water, especially when it gets too hot. Find some shade if there’s too much sun. I wear a hat, sunglasses and sunscreen; oh, and sandals, cause the sun gets very hot and you don’t want to burn your feet, but you don’t wanna wear socks and shoes to the beach. And that’s all I can think of.  

Have fun in the sun, but don’t get too hot. Cause the sun’s fun but can be a little bit dangerous!   

~ John Joyner

Speed Demon

For years I had heard how wonderful summer camp at Citadel Square Baptist Church was, but I had never been able to attend. My chance finally came as an older teen and I was asked to be a counselor. That was OK with me. 

Citadel Square was blessed with wonderful volunteers who planned and executed all the events and activities for the week-long summer camp. This group of dedicated adults had made the camp a very memorable experience - one with wonderful food, first-rate arts and crafts, well-organized bible study, and fun and fabulous fellowship – and one the young people would remember for a lifetime. EVERYONE hated for the week to end. 

Since I was still in school and held down a job, I was only able to attend camp for part of the week. My friend Reid, myself, and Dr. J.C. Murphy (the camp pastor) all had to get back to Charleston for other obligations. So, late Saturday evening we all climbed into Dr. Murphy’s car and headed back. 

Dr. Murphy told Reid and I that it would be very late before we could head home because he had a message to share with the youth during the Saturday evening Bible study. That was fine with us. MORE time to spend at camp. 

After Dr. Murphy finished his message, we three hopped into the car and headed out. The roads from Cheraw, S.C., to Charleston were all “back roads” - 35 to 45 mph – so travel was slow and tedious. And it was... Dark, Dark, Dark! We were bored! 

Dr. Murphy turned on the radio and we were chillin’. As we traveled those back roads... Well, let’s just say the speed limits were much too slow and without paying attention, we were exceeding them.  

Who would think that in the middle of the night, out in the “boonies", on lonely back-roads, when everyone SHOULD be asleep, that we would have a problem with the police? 

Guess what? Out of the blue (blue lights, that is), we saw flashing lights. And we weren’t stopped on the railroad tracks like the scene from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Nope, we were actually being pulled. It might have been better if it had been Aliens. 

“Oh no,” I thought, “this is just great!” 

Without hesitation, Dr. Murphy pulled to the side of the road and stopped the car. The lone policeman stepped out of his car, walked up to the driver’s side window, leaned down, and asked to see Dr. Murphy’s driver’s license. Dr. Murphy reached for his wallet and then handed the information to the officer. 

The police officer checked the license and registration to make sure everything was in order. The officer looked at the pictures and then looked at Dr. Murphy. He looked back at the picture and then again at Dr. Murphy. 

Then the officer asked," Are you the pastor who is on TV every Sunday morning?” 

“Yes sir, I am,” Dr. Murphy responded. 

“Well, I watch you every week on TV and I just love your sermons,” the officer replied. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” he said. 

With a few more pleasantries, the nice patrolman let us go without giving Dr. Murphy a ticket.  Just a little advice from the police officer – “Slow Down!” And he did! 

No, Dr. Murphy did not use his position to get out of the ticket. That was the officer’s decision. He was so excited to meet this “celebrity,” that he couldn’t justify giving Dr. Murphy a ticket even though he was speeding. 

Middle of the night, back roads of South Carolina, a police officer who “religiously” tuned into the same church every Sunday??? 

Hmmm... a higher power in control? 

What are the odds? What do you think?  

That’s No Moon

A Brief History of The South Carolina State Flag

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Upon first glance, it is easy to assume our beautiful state flag is that of our state tree and what other than a perfect crescent moon (as it’s often photographed as such). However, did you know that—in fact—it's not a moon that rests upon the Palmetto State flag at all?

Before the flag you know and love today was solidified—at least in our minds, there were several different iterations of the SC state flag.  From a white ensign with green palmetto, a blue canton with a right-facing crescent moon, golden palmetto encircled with a white background to a white palmetto on a background of blue. The colors, designs, shapes, and sizes have varied drastically throughout the years.

Adopted on January 28, 1861, by the General Assembly, the South Carolina State Flag is the original design of Colonel William Moultrie from 1775. The SC State Flag is notably the oldest state flag in the United States and was originally slated as a National Banner during the Civil War.

There are several components of historical significance that make up this bold, blue, waving beauty.

Royal Blue Color—this rich blue matches the color of the soldier’s uniforms donned during the Revolutionary War. 

 The Palmetto Tree—the palmetto was used during the British attack at Fort Moultrie on Sullivan's Island. Colonel Moultrie used the resilient palmetto logs to build a fort that would not only withstand the impact but provide a “bounce back” to protect his soldiers.

And, the final missing piece of it, displayed in the upper left-hand corner of the flag... Is it a moon, a crescent, a gorget, a warning, an emblem? There has been much debate over what it is exactly.

The Symbol—looking very suspiciously like a crescent; a moon.  This was, in fact, the same shape of the silver emblem that was emblazoned on the caps of the soldiers which read: “Liberty (or Death)!” A signal fashioned to let Charleston know when and if the British were coming during the Battle of Sullivan’s Island.  According to Roger Stroup (historian) & Dr. Eric Emerson (SC State Preservation), Col. Moultrie’s diary says the design is “simply ‘a crescent.’”

To this day, “specifications for shape, size, design & placement” of these symbols—even the exact color of background—haven't been standardized by the South Carolina Senate.

So, what the future holds for the SC Flag—who knows? You might see this beautiful flag designed by Jeannie Joyner being flown one day in the near future!

~ Kristen Granet

The Final Destination

I am a white-knuckle flier, as all my friends can tell you. I could be B.A. Baracus from the original A-Team. Hate it! Put me in a car for a trip any day. If I am flying somewhere, I start worrying the minute the ticket’s bought. My bad flights have always seemed to have been in March. 

Colorado Sky Trip 

The Colorado ski trip was with 2 of my cousins and some of their friends. A very happy-go-lucky group. The flight was pretty unremarkable with some minor turbulence as we headed to land at the Denver airport. We were headed to the landing strip when all of a sudden, a tailwind caught the plane and slammed us down on the tarmac. 

Did someone say whiplash? I wasn't expecting all that at all even though the pilot had warned us of the possibility of high winds. 

We spent over a week in Aspen, Vail, Winter Park (Mary Jane), Breckenridge, Beaver Creek, etc. to ski. And it was pure heaven! 

We would take 3 chair lifts to the top of some of the mountains and be the only ones at the top. It would take all day to ski down to the lodge. The snow was beautiful and thick and it was delightful—till we were ready to head to the airport to leave. 

Packed and in the cars, we had only an hour or so before our flight home. We noticed a hold-up in the traffic ahead of us. A blizzard the night before was making travel a little more difficult and with the buildup of all the new snow on the mountain, they were getting ready to close the roads!!! 

Great. We’re gonna miss our flight!

I observed some peculiar sites on the side of the road. Being from Charleston where it almost never snows, I was told what was going on. These were the cannons that they would use to shoot up to the top of the mountains to cause an avalanche in order to prevent one from happening on its own. This allowed people to travel safely through the pass through the mountains and not to have to worry about an unexpected avalanche. 

Our group must have done a lot of praying because we were the last car to get through the pass before they closed the roads. 

Can you believe it? The very last car. 

We made our flight but I am not sure how the other passengers in the plane felt about us ‘cause we sang songs, including Beach Boy’s “Good Vibrations,” etc. all the way home. 

New Jersey Trip 

The whole trip to New Jersey was very bumpy. We’d hit those “air pockets” and drop, and my stomach would be in my throat. I thought it was going to get better but actually, it only got worse. We were advised to go back to our seats (not that I ever left mine) and buckle our seat belts. 

That didn't sound good! 

The captain advised of turbulent weather. The stewardesses were trying to make everyone feel comfortable and less scared. We could get juice or drinks served to us if we wanted. So, apple juice was my choice of drink. 

I was holding my drink in my right hand when the plane started shaking so badly that David went to grab my drink so I wouldn't spill it on me. I told him that he was not to touch my drink and I would handle it! But I think I said it in a voice that sounded like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.  

David just sat there looking at me like “who is this person?” 

In reality, the only thing that was helping me through this turbulent flight was concentrating on not spilling my drink. And, if it wasn't bad enough, people started screaming in the plane. (And I can't say that they were all ladies!) Yikes! 

Yes, we landed safely. But David did have to help me walk off the plane. 

My knees were knocking! 

My heart was pounding! 

My head was aching! 

If this was supposed to be a fun trip, then leave me out next time. I could do without the fun. 

Do I fly? I figure I can do without that kind of excitement but if anyone suggests a road trip, just count me in. 

And it's not those “roads in the sky” like in Back to the Future when Doc said to Marty: “Roads? Where we’re going, we don't need roads!” Just give me the asphalt kind! 

~ Jeannie Joyner

Tales From Camp Crystal Lake

When our son, John, was young, we were always seeking new adventures—especially outdoors—nothing like exercise and fresh air.

We had checked out interesting places around South Carolina because most of the time we only had weekends for our “get-a-ways.” In searching, I discovered an area for camping around the Clarks Hill Recreation area and we decided that it would be a new experience for us, and it looked like it would be fun.

Notice that I said it “looked like” it would be fun.

Because we had never camped before, we had no camping supplies at all, so we borrowed what we needed from friends. Just the basics—a tent that would sleep three of us and a Boy Scout cooking kit. We packed our bikes, a small hibachi, cooking supplies, a few groceries, and plenty of blankets (or so I thought).

Sounds like we were going to have a wonderful weekend, right? Not even!

We hopped in the car and headed out. A few hours later we drove into the camping area and I started looking around trying to locate our site. Spotting it, we pulled our car into the parking slot.

Oh my! What have I gotten us into, I thought? All the campsites were on different levels and they all dropped off at the edges.

Small problem: Our son, John, is legally blind, and he couldn't see where the site dropped off.

We had to set up our bikes around the area like a fence so he wouldn't fall off. Besides that, all the campsite beds were made up of rock. Oh, Happy Day! Try walking on that. No bare feet here.

We unloaded the car and set up the tent as best we could. Now what?

We just sat there in the tent, on the rocks (ouch), with a few blankets spread out on the ground. Remember, I said we had borrowed the tent? That's right folks no sleeping bags or cots (bare bones)!

Do you know how many blankets one would have to spread out on the ground over the rocks to sleep comfortably? Neither do I 'cause we never reached that number.

Deciding that there must be something to entertain us here, we explored and found a beautiful lake. Bathing suits on, we decided that swimming could entertain us for an hour or two.

Relaxing right? Think again! (“Thinking” never came into play for any of this trip.)...

After being in the water for only a few minutes, we noticed that our bathing suits were turning color—red! You guys know what red means? Clay, red clay!

John was not happy, so we hopped out of the water and headed back to the bath area to shower and change. Ah, the luxury of public toilets and shower areas. They don't smell quite as fresh as they do at home, do they?

Makes you wanna go camping now, doesn't it? People with campers be thankful. Tent campers—you people have to be crazy.

Nightfall. Bored, sitting in the tent (no chairs), on top of a few blankets on top of the rocks. We ended up at the recreation area with the game room—where all the teenagers were hanging out!

We sat there watching the kids playing games until the area closed at 10 PM. We are night owls, so to us, the night was still young. We headed back to our campsite and tossed and turned all night long. And it was a long night.

Sunrise!!! Yay! We got dressed—ready for the great outdoors; at least we had sunshine and fresh air. Riding bikes, hiking, talking.

I had carried canned goods so that I could just heat up food for us. Easy, huh?

I got out the supplies and put the food together. I placed it on the hibachi to heat. So far, so good. The hibachi was sitting on top of the picnic table—obviously too close to the edge—when someone bumped the table. Everything slid off the hibachi, off the table, and down the hill. I just sat there on the bench observing the food in the pot at the bottom of the hill.

Me? Walk down the hill to collect it? Never happen!

It could stay there till “h-E-double hockey sticks” froze over for all I cared.

I just SAT there!

David looked at me. I looked back and just sat there. David continued looking at me—not saying a word.

I just sat there.

Finally, he said, “let me get that for you.”

And he climbed down the hill, collected the pot, came back up the hill, started to say something to me. And, I burst into tears.

I just sat there.

“I am going home,” I said, “Right now! Not staying one more minute.”

So, I didn't sit there any longer.

I jumped up, started tearing everything apart, and packed up. I threw everything in the car as fast as I could. I just wanted out of that campground. I knew everyone in the campground had seen what was happening and were probably getting a good laugh.

David was not going to let the weekend end like that. He knew I wasn't happy, and he was going to change that.

So, heading toward Charleston, he found a motel with a pool (sparkling clear water, no red swimsuits), a bed (comfy with no rocks), air conditioning (now I could sleep), a hairdryer (no towel drying my hair), a TV (for entertainment), a bathtub (Calgon take me away), a toilet (this bathroom actually smelled good).

Oh yes, don't forget the ice for cold drinks!

And, he took us out for a nice dinner, that I did not cook, and it stayed on top of the table.

So, ladies and gents, what seemed like it would have been a great weekend for us, turned into a very stressful one. But my sweet husband took an unpleasant situation, salvaged it, and we all went home happy!

Camping? Never again!

We don't even talk about it..

~ Jeannie Joyner

It's a Blast!

The Fourth has come and gone, so I’ll keep this short.

We could talk about the times where one or several guests in the pool (not me, it could never be me) had one too many drinks. I could talk about the time on the front porch when we spelled out certain words with sparklers using a delayed shutter speed on a camera. Or we could talk about the many patriotic holidays when Mike Christy blew up half the inlet where he and his family live.

This will be somewhat more quaint, however. Somewhat fitting for the first Fourth of July after the plague known as COVID, amirite?

Kristen’s dad had piled us in the car and taken us about an hour out of town to a ramshackle trailer. Ed said, “Get whatever you want.” And we did.

I will be honest. I don’t recall the exact fireworks which we bought.

Could we have bought the “Evil, Wicked, Mean and Nasty” firework? It might have happened.

Might we have purchased the “Nuclear Sunrise” firework? It’s quite possible.

Would we have procured the “Here Comes Da Judge” firework? It is, of course, plausible.

Come the Fourth, we were ready to ignite a few.

We started lite – no pun intended. A few poppers and snakes. A few parachutes and smoke bombs. A few fountains and spinners.

But then, we moved into bottle rockets. Then onto roman candles. But, we would soon get into the larger artillery.

My dad, my very tall friend, Joe, and a couple others would take turns starting the Mission: Impossible-like fuse that would quickly lead to a shell howling up into the air and bursting in the sky.

Maybe you’ve gotten ahead of me. Maybe you know where this is going.

You put enough (“stupid”) men together we will find a way to make everything bigger and better – proverbially speaking.

We discussed, at a too-quick-click, that we would line up five tubes in a row, setting off a sequence of fiery fury. Pop, pop, pop, pop… The first four went up into the air without a hitch.

The fifth… not so much.

The fifth tube tipped over at the last second and shot toward the man what started it all. It growled across the ground bouncing this way and that. Before most of us knew what was happening, it chased up Joe’s jean clad leg, up his back and into the air, exploding just ten or twenty feet above us.

Joe stood there confused and scared. All six-foot four vertical inches of him. On the left side of his head, a small bald spot was now present and smoking. Did he almost need serious medical care? Maybe. But what we do know is that if he ever does decide to participate in any incendiary activities, he’ll run just a little faster and require shelter as if it were the nuclear test from the Incredible Hulk.

Things have changed in the years since this… enlightening (?) experience.

We miss spending the holidays with Ed – his wartime past has caught up with him and he’s currently bedbound. We have missed the flash-bang (near Disney-esque) epic firework displays at the Christy’s. We miss all of our friends and family that can’t be with us in 2020/2021 and beyond.

But in our hearts and minds, we celebrate with those that we love, even if they aren’t there physically to celebrate with us. And isn’t that what it’s all about?

We hope with all of our heart you had a safe and happy Fourth this past weekend. And moving forward let’s all make sure that we stick together in such tumultuous times. As Gerald Stanley Lee once said, “America is a tune. It must be sung together.”

While fireworks, burgers, and red, white and blue shirts are optional, harmony is a must.

~ Brandon L. Joyner

Bright Lights, Bigger City

(A Brief History of The Morris Island Lighthouse)

One of the great things about living along the coast is the fascination and love of lighthouses. When you see one for the first time, the idea that somehow, we humans had the foresight to know how important this simple fixture would affect the safety of mankind upon the waters of the world is amazing.

Here in Charleston, we have two lighthouses—one that is officially the “Charleston Lighthouse” and one that has been the “Charleston Light” for better than three centuries. Of course, the latter has had almost a cat’s number of lives in its long history.

From 1673 the first light burned at what was then only the Charles Towne colony. The construct of balls of oaken and pitch elevated in iron baskets was replaced in

1767 with a 42-foot-tall tower which held lamps of lighted fish oil suspended from its ceiling. Having known the smell of raw fish oil, I wouldn’t want to have been the keeper of the light during that time. This more permanent structure was situated on three small Islands known as Middle Bay Island. It also had the distinction of being the first of the pre-revolutionary lights built in the Carolina colony.

The “Charleston Light” has served the city well during its lifetime. In 1775, the light was darkened to prevent the British from entering Charleston Harbor safely. Shortly after the Revolutionary War, the Tower of 42 ft was replaced with a brick tower which rose above its foundation to a height of 102 ft. A newer light reflector system was installed making the light even more effective. In 1790, the South Carolina legislature (in its infancy) transferred the title for the light to the newly-formed Federal Government. The three small islands that formed Middle Bay Island had accrued enough sand and substance to now be one Island and the name was changed to Morrison's Island. Charleston had also grown to be the largest commercial East Coast port just behind the port of New York.

As the port grew, the town grew and so did the importance of the light. In 1800, Congress appropriated monies for repair and upgrade; by 1838, the light had been improved to a revolving light. In 1858, a newer, first-order lens was installed to provide an even stronger presence on the coast.

The lighthouse on Morrison's Island had become so significant that upon secession of South Carolina from the Union, the Morris Island Lighthouse was wrested from the Union by the Governor’s order and demand that the lightkeeper leave the light and the state due to its forcible possession. The importance of the light did not keep the Confederate forces from destroying the lighthouse to prevent the Union Navy from easy access to Charleston Harbor or the Union Army from using it as a lookout tower.

After the war in 1873, Congress approved funds for the construction of the Morris Island Lighthouse which was first operated in October of 1876. Towering 158 ft above the ocean, the light penetrated the darkness of night 19 miles out to sea. At the base of the round lighthouse tower stood the lightkeeper's house and a boathouse. During the late 1800s, a number of significant things happened to or had deleterious effect on the lighthouse and its accompanying buildings.

Earthquakes in 1868 and 1886 damaged the foundation of the light and moved the refractive lens mount in the tower. A massive hurricane in 1885 destroyed the rear beacon; overturned part of the base wall and carried away the bridge between the two beacons. The wooden walkway that connected the island’s structures were badly damaged and the boathouse was overturned. This version of the lighthouse had only been in place since 1876 and had grown to 161 feet in height.

Another significant negative event in the life of the Morris Island light was the completion of the Charleston Harbor jetties in 1889. The structures were built to protect the channel into the harbor, but they caused shifts in the current which eventually eroded the island that surrounded the light. Once, almost 1,200 feet from the water's edge, the ocean finally surrounded the base of the lighthouse tower which stood alone in pictures as early as 1938.

By 1962, the automated lighthouse was deemed unsafe and impractical as a manned tower. It was decommissioned and subsequently replaced by the Sullivan’s Island light that same year. -

The Morris Island Light is now 1600 feet from shore completely surrounded by ocean waters. Its base has been reinforced by concrete via the efforts of a group of Charleston locals’ determination to “Save the Light.” It’s now owned by the state of South Carolina but leased to the “Save the Light” Foundation.

In 1989, Hurricane Hugo washed away what was left of any remnants of the contingent buildings and caused erosion which leaves the lighthouse sitting alone in the ocean.

Many Charlestonians and lighthouse enthusiasts still dream of the renewal of the Charleston Light known as the Morris Island Lighthouse. It has such a strong following that in the parking lot of Myrtle Beach’s Broadway at the Beach shopping complex, stands a 109 ft replica.

In even more exciting lighting news: for the 2019 Fourth of July weekend, “Save the Light” Foundation partnered with Dominion Energy to turn on the Morris Island Lighthouse in celebration of Independence Day. This celebration was just the beginning to light the fire for their $7 million restoration project which will take place over the next 5 years.

So, all you Lighthouse enthusiasts out there need not despair... The Charleston Light is awaiting repair!

~ David Joyner and Kristen Granet

Different Is the New Normal

It was September 12, 1970 when I was born. I didn't know what was wrong with me ‘cause I was a baby. But I had some kind of swelling in the brain. My brain was fine but there was liquid in my skull putting pressure on it.

I have what they call Cerebral Palsy. (What is Cerebral Palsy? A congenital disorder of movement, muscle tone, or posture. Cerebral palsy is due to abnormal brain development, often before birth.)

They tell me I needed to have an operation. There was another little girl that had some emergency issue that took the entire weekend. So, by the time that they got around to having to perform the surgery for me, they looked at it again, and miraculously the liquids had drained away and off the brain and had relieved the pressure on its own. I had to stay in the hospital for 6 months, I think. (Mom and Dad say I got to come home when I was 3 months old, actually.)

When I was 5, (the way I remember it), I was declared legally blind. When I was reading my Beatles’ vinyl, I couldn't really read the words and that's when I realized I would have to wear glasses. And had to write (and read) in BIG print. I was trying to do the lines with letters on the white pages where I couldn't see the lines. They gave me a type of green paper, well white paper with green lines actually so that I could see them better. And, that's when I ended up writing the big letters. I mean, I write small but I write big letters.

Then... they found out I had cataracts and they took those out-- maybe around the same time as Grandma's, but I’m not sure. After that, I couldn't read well. The pages were put up on the TV under a screen so that I could see the big words projected onto the TV so I could see it better and that went very well. And sometimes, I'd use magnifying glasses as well.

Well, I was about 10 and I was trying to climb the monkey bars and I thought I could go way up high but I couldn't and I lost my balance thinking that I had it. I sprained my right leg. And I started to get up and I couldn't hardly put my foot down on the ground. I went to Trident Hospital in Greenville. They put a cast on my leg and then it was fine, but I felt kinda funny. Turns out I had chickenpox with the cast.

Then, they were taking the cast off... I was gonna get a brace but couldn't get it... so I ended up wearing the cast for a longer period of time. Then they had to bandage the top of the leg and I couldn't walk at all with just the bottom of the cast and only the bandage without a brace to help me. The brace would eventually help me walk and I would wear it at night to keep my leg straight and protected. I realized when I wore it, it felt like the heel of my foot was stinging with the brace…

And, after the brace, I felt better without it. The brace was meant to lengthen the right leg so that it matched the other leg and that would help me to be able to walk better rather than limp. It felt like my limp was bad, but it felt better after… my leg was moving. And I kept walking without a brace.

So, yeah, I have a wheelchair. I use it when I travel, and it helps when I have to walk long distances. Because I started when I went to like Disney and Universal. But in 1983, I realized I wasn't feeling well. I had to go to the emergency room to see what was wrong. They realized I was sick from the heat. I got overheated. Then, after I got better and the next time we went on a trip, we took a wheelchair.

The wheelchair helps me since I can't walk long distances. And the only time I really get up to walk is if we are standing on the escalator (moving walkway) like at Universal or if there is a hill (an incline) then I stand up to walk and move my legs.

I walk and swim to exercise my legs. And I have physical therapy at the Medical U (MUSC). Then, I did a lot of walking and on Tuesdays. I would swim and do laps versus the treadmill at PT on Thursdays early in the morning. I did stretches and walked for a certain amount of time.

In general, as long as I look where I'm going. Like y'all say, "John, look up." Or "Look down when you're going down the stairs." I feel like I'm ok. I have good balance but sometimes I tend to lose balance, but not all the time. I think the loss of balance has a lot to do with age, alright (I’m not that old), maybe some with sight, but perhaps some due to cerebral palsy.

I feel like my sight has evened out and is kinda gonna be what it's going to be. The foot and leg are what they're going to be. If the surgery and brace had not have worked, I’m not sure… It would have hurt and it would have made me feel uncomfortable and different if I was still limping. When someone says I have Cerebral Palsy I sometimes feel depressed because I don't know… I hope no one makes fun of me. But sometimes people you don't know and they might make fun of you.

Due to my Cerebral Palsy, I will continually have to work my muscles because the disease causes atrophy. If I'm sitting for a longer period of time, it's harder to make the muscles move. I'd attribute that to the Palsy and not necessarily age.

I'd like people to see me the same as everyone else, just a person. I wanna say the same but can't be sure of that... I don't mind being thought of as different because a lot of people are different. I'd like them to see my personality. I'm a nice and good person and would like them to see me as I am and not judge me on my disability.

Advice for someone who meets another person with a disability- treat them nice, be kind, and don't make fun of them.

Advice for those with a disability and living their lives- I was blessed and lucky enough to have a support system but for those who may not, I'll say if someone comes up to you and talks to you and you don't like to answer or feel uncomfortable then you can say I have "Cerebral Palsy" and tell them not to make fun of you.

If there's anyone reading this that wants to reach out, I'm here to talk! Drop me a line. 😊

~ John Joyner

Ride, Sally, Ride

On a lazy, sun-filled summer day, our neighbors suggested that I take their polo pony out for some exercise. Sounds simple enough, right?A gentle trot through the woods might be just the thing on a beautiful morning. So, I consented and my neighbor saddled the horse and we were ready for our outing. I mounted this gorgeous beauty with the shiny brown coat that stood at least fifteen hands high and thought to myself, “This is going to be a fun day.”

Off we went, through the woods with a gentle breeze blowing the trees making everything seem perfect as we trotted along. Maybe for me, it seemed perfect but obviously not for the horse. The horse that decided trotting was not for him – he wanted to gallop. And gallop he did! 

He took off at a run with me in the saddle trying as hard as I could to get him to stop or even slow down. It did not happen! 

Somehow as we flew through the woods, we managed to miss every low-lying branch and limb coming out unscathed. I don’t know how but we did. I was screaming the whole time we were riding. These were blood-curdling screams (my sons can tell you about my screams). 

Shouting: “Oh God, oh God – please help me, please help me! Stop! Stop! STOP!” 

I was screaming for help out in the woods alone, surrounded by trees, trees, and more trees. 

After what was – I’m sure—were only minutes that felt like an eternity, we came to a clearing, and there on the other side was the barn where the pony had been kept for the last few days. 

We were still moving at a gallop and I was still screaming for him to stop, still trying to stop him as he raced toward the barn.

As we got closer, I noticed that the door was open (that’s good). I was sitting high in the saddle when I realized that even though the door was open; this was more a garage than a barn and the opening was not as tall as we were (that's bad)! 

Oh great!!! 

In just a few seconds I was either going to be minus a head or my butt was going to be flat on the ground and the rest of me with it! Either way, it wouldn’t be pretty. 

I knew I had to stop this horse. “I think I can! I think I can!” 

Still screaming for help and still trying with all my might to get control of the situation and the horse, I realized we were only yards away from the door opening. When, all of a sudden, and I’m sure with no help from me, the horse came to a screeching halt – and I mean HALT! 

I just knew that I was going to sail right out of the saddle and over the horse’s head but somehow, I stayed glued to the horse’s back. 

I am certain that it was God’s hand holding onto me. I think he finally answered my prayers or was tired of me screaming, “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” 

After regaining my composure, I dismounted, walked the polo pony into the “stable,” handed the reins over to the owner, and quietly walked out like nothing had happened.  

My knees felt like wet noodles and I know I shook for at least an hour – this just wasn’t one of my best days. 

How often do I go horseback riding, you might ask? 

You know how everyone will say, “If you fall off the bike (or in this case the horse), you need to get right back up and try it again?” 

NOPE! Not me! 

I have many other less stressful things to occupy my mornings. And, they don’t involve screaming till I have no voice or dodging tree limbs that will leave me senseless. 

Yeah, just give me the simple life. 

~ Jeannie Joyner

Why'd It Have To Be Snakes?!

I know people who are scared to death of snakes; who won't look at them and who certainly would not want to be in the same place with one. Thank goodness I am not one of those people. Not saying that I would love to look down and see one slithering by my feet, but I would not panic, scream, and run.

When I was in high school, my father took a full-time job managing the grounds of a private estate. This involved clearing the property of trees, underbrush, and poisonous plants. He also had to manicure the property, plant new foliage and flowers, and clear an area for a fairly large vegetable garden. That might sound simple and easy—but hey—it wasn't, particularly in Charleston where the summer gets so hot and humid. And this area had lots and lots and lots of snakes... and an alligator.

This property had an island that could only be accessed by foot over a small earthen dam. We lived on the property but not on the island. I loved to take long walks around the property because everything was so beautiful and the more my dad cleared and worked it, the more beautiful it became.

It was not unusual for me to walk out our back door and find a snake or two curled up on our patio sunning themselves—or whatever they like to do! How do you read the thoughts of a snake?

I was dating David at the time, and on this particular day, my father was working over on the island. We decided we would walk over to visit him and, not locating him immediately, we decided to check the backside of the island where we were sure he must be.

Aha! We spotted him.

We were walking toward him and had stopped for a moment under a tree when my dad picked up his shotgun and aimed it right at us.

“Wow!” I thought, “he must be ticked off with us about something!”

All of a sudden – BAM! POW!

Dad had fired the shotgun at us!?! What??? Surely not!!!

My dad was trying to kill us??? Why???

Should we run or just stand there and be taken out???

Dad lowered the shotgun.

I thought as he walked towards us, “Is he coming closer for better aim?”

He raised his hand and pointed in our direction.

“What are you pointing at,” I said.

David and I turned to where he was pointing and we saw it...

A snake—a huge black water moccasin!

We were just standing right by it! David said it looked exactly like the roots of the tree. It was amazing how well that snake blended in with its surroundings. We never saw it!

We both breathed a sigh of relief as David’s color began to return to his face.

As I mentioned before, my dad's job was not easy. Besides killing over 300 poisonous snakes, there were other obstacles to overcome. The water had been full of ducks, fish, and turtles, but my father noticed that they were slowly disappearing.

One day when he was fishing, he spotted a 10 to 12-foot alligator. He ran into the house to let us know the reason this was happening.

Are you kidding me! I would sit for hours by the water and fish from the bank!

I... I would sunbathe on the bank!

I would picnic on the bank!

I could have been eaten on the bank!!!

My father tried numerous times to get the Fish and Wildlife Service to take care of the problem with the alligator, only to be told—after three or four conversations—that he would have to handle the problem himself. So, he and a friend decided to spend the day hunting that alligator.

And hunt they did.

By the end of the day, they spotted the gator on the shore. They shot it, dragged it across the island, and displayed their day's work for all to see.

I never looked at the water or the island quite the same after that.

What had once been a place of relaxation, I now approached with caution. Those wonderful lazy summer days resting on the bank—they didn't happen after that.

From then on, I enjoyed the lake “from a distance.”

What appeared to be a little slice of heaven had its hidden dangers, and I saw the warning signs.

Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!

~ Jeannie Joyner

A Beautiful Faith Lift

(A Brief History of St. Philip’s Church)

Up the coast a little way, located in Hampton, Virginia, sits St. John Episcopal Church established in 1610. While there were older Christian congregations, this was the first time that English was the primary language spoken. St. Philip’s Episcopal in Charleston would become the second. 

A group of settlers would disembark near the now-defunct Albemarle Point in the early 1670s. They would eventually make a life for themselves between the Ashley and Cooper Rivers around 1679. Forming a more religious coalition called “the English Church,” they were officially known as St. Philips.  

While the congregation first gathered in 1680, the first physical structure was built between 1681 and 1691. Between Broad and Meeting Streets, Originall and Millicent Jackson donated four acres of land where the structure was erected. Made of black cypress with a brick foundation, this “large and stately” church would sit on this spot for nearly two decades until a hurricane would irreparably damage the original building. 

This is where things get a little fun…

Where St. Philip’s sat at the time would become the future site of another iconic church named St. Michael’s. Just a couple blocks over on Church Street, a new church under the name St. Philip’s was being constructed in 1710 and completed in 1723. But even this structure wasn’t long for this world as it burned down in 1835.  It was rebuilt on the same spot (this time) and neared completion in 1838 – the year of the great Charleston Fire!

Due to its size, the city was forced to design Church Street with a large curve around the projecting tower and steeple. The towering steeple was designed by E.B. White and added to the church in 1850.  Between 1893 and 1915, a beacon was attached to the steeple and was utilized as a lighthouse to guide ships in the Charleston Harbor. 

Many prominent priests would preach from the pulpit. From Reverend Thomas Frost to John Wesley. From George Whitfield to the founding President of the College of Charleston, Rev. Dr. Robert Smith. George Washington himself even worshiped there at one point. 

Famous people don’t just flock to this gorgeous construction inside, however. Vice President of the United States, John C. Calhoun, President of South Carolina from 1778-1779, Rawlins Lowndes, and playwright Dubose Heyward of “Porgy” fame are all buried in the graveyard surrounding the church.  Being such an important part of Charleston’s history, it wasn’t even added to the National Register of Historic Places until 1973. 

From 1993 to 1994 the church would go through its most recent restoration, the congregation worships in the building as it stands to this day. 

Despite so many disasters -- the original church bells being melted to create Confederate cannons, earthquakes nearly destroying the building, Hurricane Hugo causing 4.5 million dollars in damage – St. Philip’s still stands today as a reminder of the resilience of Charleston and the Lowcountry.    

~ Brandon L. Joyner

Tennessee Mountain Home

I have always loved Dolly Parton. Love her music, love her tacky clothes, love her cute personality. And, every September after our choir retreat, we'd head over to visit Dollywood in hopes of getting a glimpse of her in the park.  

This particular year we invited our close friends, Lois and Clay, to come along with us. While we were in Dollywood, we decided to see a show that showcased Dolly’s relatives. And who was performing in this show? 

None other than Dolly’s Uncle Bill – the uncle she credits with getting her started in the country music business (sitting with her through auditions and watching after her while she was on the road). 

We were sitting on the front row at the show with our son John next to us in his wheelchair. Since he is legally blind, he needed to be close to the stage to view the show.  

After our visit to the park that day, David suggested that we might try to locate Dolly’s childhood home. We all jumped at the chance to go on a little “side-trip.” Locust Ridge shouldn’t be hard to find and we were sure that everyone in Sevierville would be able to direct us. 

Boy, were we wrong!    

We couldn’t count the number of places where we stopped for directions only to be “directed” to the wrong location. After all, we were tourists - not blood kin! After hours of searching, we finally realized that the residents of Sevierville would not give up the info we needed to get to Locust Ridge. They were protecting her from “people like us”.  

So, the heck with them! We ventured out on our own headed in the direction where we thought Dolly’s homestead might be.   

Aha! David spotted a local gas station/convenience store along the way and decided to run in to find out any info he could. 

In a few minutes he came back to the car very excited and said, “You’ll never guess who I ran into in there!” 

“Who,” I said. 

“Uncle Bill, Dolly’s uncle. He’s gonna take us up to Dolly’s place on Locust Ridge. He said it would be very difficult to find on our own. He is headed home in that direction anyway.”  

Hallelujah! Are you kidding me? What an opportunity!  

So, off we went, following Uncle Bill through miles of scary, winding roads going higher and higher up the mountain until we came to a church up on top. 

We pulled off into the parking lot behind Uncle Bill. He got out of his van and explained that that was as far as he could go because his van wouldn’t make it down the steep hill to her property. We got out of our cars and stood there talking and laughing and taking pictures for about forty-five minutes. He was the nicest man. He told us he remembered John from the previous day’s show. I guess that was why he decided to help us.   

We had the nicest visit... but all good things must come to an end. 

He told us that his wife had supper ready and that she would kill him if he was late. After he told us where the entrance to Dolly’s property was, we parted ways with a great big thank you for the help - leading us to Locust Ridge when no one else would - and the stories he blessed us with.  

We decided to head down the road to the steep hill that led down to the property. 

No problem!  

Once down the hill there wasn’t much to see. The property was surrounded by a wooden fence that must have been twelve feet high with a huge double gate secured by a massive lock. You could peek through the fence but you could only see a very large manicured lawn with the driveway leading to the house hidden somewhere behind all the trees. 

The excitement of it all! 

We were thrilled to be standing outside her homeplace on Locust Ridge and getting the chance to spend time with Uncle Bill. We took more pictures to commemorate this special event.  

But now, we had to get back up the hill! 

Getting down the hill was no problem – driving back up proved to be a little more trouble. Lois and Clay headed up first and with a much bigger engine they made it up with only a little struggle.  

Now it was our turn. Did I mention that the driveway was covered with crushed rock? Didn’t think so.   

We started up the hill – all of us leaning forward and rocking – like that was really going to help. How dumb could we be?  

Our tires were spinning and spinning and we felt like we were going to slide back down the drive. 

"We may have to camp out down here! Was this really a good idea?” I thought. 

Then, all of a sudden, with a mash of the gas, we lunged forward and we were up and out! Yep - we had made it! Maybe we should have thought that through a little more.  

Well, it was done. Was it worth it? Would we do it again? Sure.  

What an exciting day we had and how unexpected was it that we would meet and spend time with Uncle Bill. And when we talk about it with John, he gets the biggest grin on his face. 

We have seen Dolly in concerts and in her parade, and we have had the pleasure of conversation with her family at the park. We have also toured the costume department and had conversations with her personal costumers. This was EXTRA special!  

Who knows what adventures await you? Whatever your idea is of a great adventure, or wherever it might be, just keep your eyes open so you can enjoy it when you FIND it! 

~ Jeannie Joyner 

A Little Clumsy, A Lotta Heart

It was September 12, 1970 when I was born. I didn't know what was wrong with me ‘cause I was a baby. But I had some kind of swelling in the brain. My brain was fine but there was liquid in my skull putting pressure on it.

I have what they call Cerebral Palsy. (What is Cerebral Palsy? A congenital disorder of movement, muscle tone, or posture. Cerebral palsy is due to abnormal brain development, often before birth.)

They tell me I needed to have an operation. There was another little girl that had some emergency issue that took the entire weekend. So, by the time that they got around to having to perform the surgery for me, they looked at it again, and miraculously the liquids had drained away and off the brain and had relieved the pressure on its own. I had to stay in the hospital for 6 months, I think. (Mom and Dad say I got to come home when I was 3 months old, actually.)

When I was 5, (the way I remember it), I was declared legally blind. When I was reading my Beatles’ vinyl, I couldn't really read the words and that's when I realized I would have to wear glasses. And had to write (and read) in BIG print. I was trying to do the lines with letters on the white pages where I couldn't see the lines. They gave me a type of green paper, well white paper with green lines actually so that I could see them better. And, that's when I ended up writing the big letters. I mean, I write small but I write big letters.

Then... they found out I had cataracts and they took those out-- maybe around the same time as grandma's, but I’m not sure. After that, I couldn't read well. The pages were put up on the TV under a screen so that I could see the big words projected onto the TV so I could see it better and that went very well. And sometimes, I'd use magnifying glasses as well.

Well, I was about 10 and I was trying to climb the monkey bars and I thought I could go way up high but I couldn't and I lost my balance thinking that I had it. I sprained my right leg. And I started to get up and I couldn't hardly put my foot down on the ground. I went to Trident Hospital in Greenville. They put a cast on my leg and then it was fine, but I felt kinda funny. Turns out I had chickenpox with the cast.

Then, they were taking the cast off... I was gonna get a brace but couldn't get it... so I ended up wearing the cast for a longer period of time. Then they had to bandage the top of the leg and I couldn't walk at all with just the bottom of the cast and only the bandage without a brace to help me. The brace would eventually help me walk and I would wear it at night to keep my leg straight and protected. I realized when I wore it, it felt like the heel of my foot was stinging with the brace…

And, after the brace, I felt better without it. The brace was meant to lengthen the right leg so that it matched the other leg and that would help me to be able to walk better rather than limp. It felt like my limp was bad, but it felt better after… my leg was moving. And I kept walking without a brace.

So, yeah, I have a wheelchair. I use it when I travel, and it helps when I have to walk long distances. Because I started when I went to like Disney and Universal. But in 1983, I realized I wasn't feeling well. I had to go to the emergency room to see what was wrong. They realized I was sick from the heat. I got overheated. Then, after I got better and the next time we went on a trip, we took a wheelchair.

The wheelchair helps me since I can't walk long distances. And the only time I really get up to walk is if we are standing on the escalator (moving walkway) like at Universal or if there is a hill (an incline) then I stand up to walk and move my legs.

I walk and swim to exercise my legs. And I have physical therapy at the Medical U (MUSC). Then, I did a lot of walking and on Tuesdays. I would swim and do laps versus the treadmill at PT on Thursdays early in the morning. I did stretches and walked for a certain amount of time.

In general, as long as I look where I'm going. Like y'all say, "John, look up." Or "Look down when you're going down the stairs." I feel like I'm ok. I have good balance but sometimes I tend to lose balance, but not all the time. I think the loss of balance has a lot to do with age, alright (I’m not that old), maybe some with sight, but perhaps some due to cerebral palsy.

I feel like my sight has evened out and is kinda gonna be what it's going to be. The foot and leg are what they're going to be. If the surgery and brace had not have worked, I’m not sure… It would have hurt and it would have made me feel uncomfortable and different if I was still limping. When someone says I have Cerebral Palsy I sometimes feel depressed because I don't know… I hope no one makes fun of me. But sometimes people you don't know and they might make fun of you.

Due to my Cerebral Palsy, I will continually have to work my muscles because the disease causes atrophy. If I'm sitting for a longer period of time it's harder to make the muscles move. I'd attribute that to the Palsy and not necessarily age.

I'd like people to see me the same as everyone else, just a person. I wanna say the same but can't be sure of that... I don't mind being thought of as different because a lot of people are different. I'd like them to see my personality. I'm a nice and good person and would like them to see me as I am and not judge me on my disability.

Advice for someone who meets another person with a disability- treat them nice, be kind, and don't make fun of them.

Advice for those with a disability and living their lives- I was blessed and lucky enough to have a support system but for those who may not, I'll say if someone comes up to you and talks to you and you don't like to answer or feel uncomfortable then you can say I have "Cerebral Palsy" and tell them not to make fun of you.

If there's anyone reading this that wants to reach out, I'm here to talk! Drop me a line. 😊

The Fast and the Furry-ous

I’ve told you before about Clay and Carol. Along with Carol’s husband, Tommy, all are fantastic friends of the family. Clay and I have been friends almost since birth, I “think” he’ll even claim me today. He’s a brother from another mother. 

And father for that matter. No genetic material in common.  

If you haven’t read about past adventures, pause the video here and read this: 

https://www.suchandsuchdesigns.com/blogs-and-such/winnie-the-what-now 

Good. 

Now, that you’re back… 

The Duncans and our family are close. On another of our famous jaunts down to the most expensive – I mean, magical – place on Earth, we were packed into the three rows of Carol’s van. I’d make some inference that we were like sardines, but it’s simply not true. Everyone had space. This was still a time when vans were vans and men were men. Or something of some such. 

Anyway… 

We were rope droppers. What this means, for the uninitiated, is that we would wake up super early and before the park even opened its gates we would queue up and stand there to be some of the first people around the park. Go down to Disney. Do this. You’ll see we’re not that strange.  

Before you can hop on a monorail or be ferried over the moat-ish water of the Seven Seas Lagoon, (Pro tip: Don’t “morning” the monorail. The capacity just isn’t there. Boats are better.) you’re stopped by a line of toll booth-esque monoliths. Each is loaded with an infectiously happy person at an all-too-early-hour that will kindly ask you for half your life savings to park.  

So… 

There are about three or four cars in front of us, each stopping and taking a second to pay their way and are waved through one at a time. And after a few moments only one stood between us and – get this – waiting in another line.  

The car in front of us drives forward, pausing for a much shorter period of time before being waved on, following traffic into the parking lots of the glorious, magical, Magic Kingdom. 

Carol lifts her foot off the gas and drifts forward, pulling up to the woman who will take our money and allow entrance—one step closer to chumming it up with the Pirates of the Caribbean or the Enchanted Tiki Room birds.  

Closer and closer we inch… 

And then…  

Carol presses the button and her window slides down halfway.  

And then… 

Carol pulls the money from her purse… 

And then…  

The entire car hears metal clank against metal as Carol SMASHES the accelerator to the floor. 

As we speed past the confused woman at the earliest possible hour of the morning, we hear three words that will forever be burned into our psyche.  

“Magic Kingdom… HELLO?!?!?” 

“Carol? What are you doing?!” 

The brakes SCREECH as the rear tires smoke, the van shudders to a complete and immediate stop.  

“We have to pay for parking,” my mom mutters. 

Instead of backing the car up, Carol fully rolls the window down and waves the money out the window. Did she expect the lady to run to the car and collect it? Was she expecting Minnie to drive up in another van and escort her in? I don’t think any of us know. And I knew, at that moment, none of us cared.  

Finally, after far too long, Carol puts the car in reverse and backs up to where the woman has fully emerged from her parking gate shell. Color her embarrassed.  

Carol smiles and says, as if nothing had happened, “Morning!” She hands the attendant the money in exchange for a ticket that will become bleached by the immense heat of the Florida sun in the eighteen hours we’re at the park. The woman smiles back at Carol and points – with two fingers, three fingers, or the entire palm – to where we should park the car. 

After this, Carol gingerly pulls into a parking space.  

My mom looks to Carol and asks, “Carol? Why did you think about stopping then rush the gate?” 

“All the people in front of them stopped to pay. But the person right in front of us didn’t. So, I thought we were good to go,” she replied.  

Clay, dryly from the middle set of seats says, “Mom. They were annual passholders. They don’t have to pay for parking.”  

Silence. 

Then, the entire car erupts with laughter at this gargantuan misunderstanding. And if you know, Carol, her tittering went higher and longer as the day went on and she was reminded of this faux pas.  

If Disney (or any other theme park for that matter) reopens to capacity again and Mickey Mouse skips up to you smiling, take a moment to smell the roses and take a picture.  

And always – I mean, ALWAYS, pay the toll! Who knows what cops dressed as Goofy will do to get their money! 

Until next time… “Magic Kingdom… Goodbye!?!?” 

~ Brandon L. Joyner

Let Me Take You On a Sea Cruise

Cruisin’? I never thought that I would ever go on a sea cruise. 

“Why?” you ask. 

Number one: I'm scared to death of the water.  

Number two: I'm scared to death of the water. 

Number three: Well, you get the picture. 

David and I had talked about going on a cruise for years, but because of our crazy schedules, I thought that would never happen. Too many conflicts - work schedules, school schedules, and performance schedules - all excuses right. 

Fast forward, ladies and gentlemen! We have gone on five cruises since then. And, I must say, I love to cruise. 

Was I still uncomfortable as I stood on deck and looked out over the dark waters of the ocean and thought about how deep that water was? You betcha! That's why I tried not to do that. 

I tried to think of positive things; like dining in the opulent dining rooms, shopping in all the upscale gift shops, going to wine tastings, attending art exhibits, etc., etc. In other words, I wouldn't stand on the bow of the ship and think about the Titanic. 

My favorite cruises have been the ones that have included my two sons. It was still difficult to arrange all the schedules, but like we've always heard—where there's a will there's a way. So, with some planning, we actually scheduled a cruise for all four of us. 

For those of you who know our son, Brandon, you know he can't sit or stand still. It was no different on the cruise. If there was an opportunity for him to participate in or attend something, he was going to do it.  

He would read the ship schedule then let us know what the plans were for the day. 

One night, Brandon said to me, “Mom, I have an idea for the four of us to have a fun evening and I know you'll love it. It's called ‘Quest.’” 

“I have no idea what that is, Brandon,” I replied. 

“Mom, just say yes. You'll love it,” he said. 

So, evening came and we headed into an area of the ship that resembled a men’s club—swanky furniture and dark wood décor. We took a table about halfway back from the stage area. 

The emcee came out to the stage and explained to everyone that we were to be divided up into teams of 8 members each. We found two other couples who agreed to join our team. 

BINGO! 

The host then explained that he had a list of items that he would read from. We would then gather those items (if we had them) and one of the team members would rush up to the front. The first one to reach him with the item would get the most points. That was all well and good as long as he asked for a watch, a sock, a hat; but then he asked for a bra! 

“Great!” I thought to myself. 

I could feel my face turn red. 

“Ain't no way I'm gonna do that,” I thought to myself. 

At that point, I felt like all eyes were on me! I don't even think the other two girls were wearing bras. 

David looked at me and said, “Well so much for that one. We've just lost.” 

He knew how shy I was and that no way in heck would I take off my bra—in this club—at this table—in front of all these people. 

Then, I thought... “I have to take one for the team.” 

So, without giving it another thought, I pulled my arms in through my blouse sleeves, slipped my bra straps down my arms, unhooked my bra, popped it out under the hem of my blouse, and—waiving it like a white flag—yelled, “Here it is!!!” 

And, off we went, running up to the emcee to collect our points. 

Once back at the table, David said, “I can't believe you did that! I can't believe you did that! And, in front of your son. I can't believe you did that!” 

And, even after all that, we did not win. 

But who cares? 

It was so much fun I would do it all over again! 

I told my family as we were leaving that evening (with my bra on) that I couldn't remember laughing so much in a long time. 

Ooey, ooey baby, 

Ooey, ooey baby, 

Ooey, ooey baby... 

I'm so glad we all went on a sea cruise! 

~ Jeannie Joyner

Deconstructing the Construction

(A Brief History of the Old Charleston Cottage House)

The streets and homes of Charleston, SC are a living, breathing thing. Down every alleyway and every street, a story screams from the cobblestones or seeps from the entryways in so many of the structures in and around the downtown area. Charleston has stood through the Revolutionary and Civil Wars and many of the buildings that were standing during those times are still around today to tell us first hand of the past.

What might surprise you is that Jeannie Joyner, an artist from South Carolina, has created a design drawn from her experiences here in town.

While today the doors of homes might feel a little lighter, walking down King Street you’ll notice that there are no small balsa wood entryways. They are lumbering, castle-like massive structures. The Old Charleston Cottage also was designed with oak or mahogany double-doors representative of buildings that have vacillated between residential and commercial in the last 400 plus years.

Most of Charleston’s French Quarter was destroyed by a fire in 1740. The original Dock Street Theater was ruined along with many other buildings. Rebuilt and re-established as the Planter’s Inn (arguably home of the world-famous Planter’s Punch), it returned to the purview of the City of Charleston in 1935 after it was scheduled for demolition. Repurposed yet again into the Dock Street Theater, the clay brickwork peeks through at the casual passersby on the road. The Cottage House mimics these accents that are prevalent throughout so many of the oldest homes in Charleston.

Since most of the houses in the downtown Charleston area are among the oldest in the country, they were originally constructed without central heating and air. During the long, hot, extremely humid summers, many residents would be forced to keep all windows open for air flow in order to avoid roasting themselves to death. But if a rainy day were to come along, the lintels above the windows might provide a few crucial seconds for everything to be shuttered and not ruin the hard wood floors. Or maybe they could leave them open!

On Queen and Meeting Streets, you’ll find that since the houses in the area have almost no yard, the best way to display someone’s green thumb is with a flower box. The residents of these homes and so many in the area fill these boxes with tall, flowing and, cascading flora to show off their individual style while respecting the general feel of Charleston. It’s only right that our painted House would do the same.

Above the windows of the Cottage House, keystones are prominently displayed. These capstones are placed for both decorative and functional purposes on many Charleston homes. They provide support for the weight of the structure above while completing the window header for the intersecting arches. In short, it's pretty but purposeful.

If you were to approach anyone who’s been to Charleston and ask them what is THE Charleston landmark, most would probably tell you Rainbow Row. In the early 20th century, one of the property owners on East Bay Street chose the Caribbean Pink exterior to help cool the house during the Charleston summers. The other owners next door followed suit with vibrant pastel colors of their own choosing, thus giving us what today is referred to fondly as Charleston’s Rainbow Row. Much of the color palette of the Old Charleston Cottage House was chosen to mimic these gorgeous façades.

The earthquake bolts, shutters, hitching posts, shutter latches, even the mail slot is representative of so many houses in the downtown and surrounding Charleston areas. The elements have been added after hurricanes and earthquakes as they have been proven to be necessary editions.

It might be trite to say that, to an artist, the world is their canvas. In this specific case, it’s quite true. Jeannie has amalgamated her own past and the history of her hometown and has created something truly special. She’s imagined a cottage from an idealized yesteryear for generations in the future to share.

What the Old Charleston Cottage House design accomplishes is bridging a generation gone to another that has not yet come into being.

~ Brandon L. Joyner

Dear Mama

“An embarrassing story about mom? I have no embarrassing story about mom. No, wait a minute. I don’t think I have one.”  

[“Are you sure?”] 

[John ponders...] 

“Um... No, I’m sure!” 

I like Mom. We have a good time. We always give her flowers for Mother’s Day-special flowers even when it’s not Mother’s Day - or stuff for Easter or Christmas. 

Mom and I share things like movies and music and food and fun! 

We always ask her what she wants for dinner or lunch or breakfast or like a snack and where to go out to eat after church on Sunday... For her birthday, sometimes we take her out and get her something special... California Dreaming is a place I like to take her. 

And her food—I enjoy her cooking—she's got some good recipes. My favorite food that I don’t normally eat would be her macaroni and cheese. And, after Thanksgiving (and her dressing) I love to eat her Chicken [Turkey] Rice Perlot... 

We watch movies together sometimes, but there isn’t a specific one that we watch together. Sometimes Mom likes to go to movies, she sometimes watches Action, some Comedy, but not Scary; well, sometimes the Black and White scary, like Alfred Hitchcock...   

We go all over together. Places like Florida and the mountains and we have a lot of fun. 

What makes her special to me? I ask myself that same question, why’s mom special? Because she’s my mom... 

She’s nice. She’s fun. And, sometimes she’s a little bit shy, as usual—and the reason I say that is because she doesn’t really have anybody to talk to or really talk in general. She’s kinda like me. 

Mom picks out the best clothes for me. She’s got style.  

If I hurt myself, she bandages me up. 

Special-wise— again, she's my mom! 

And, sometimes we talk... if I’m sad or have a problem or depressed or just want to talk. I try to get out of depression sometimes. I talk to her and it feels wonderful when I talk to her. When I’m sad we go for a ride and we always go downtown to the Battery. It helps me get out of the sad spirit. Mom lifts my spirits! 

She’s the only mom I’ve got! And I love her because she’s my mom! 

[Whether John does or doesn’t have a tale or two... we’ll never know... cause ultimately, it’s just between him and Jeannie – his mom!] 

~ John Joyner

Forever Young

They say that only death and taxes are certain but without getting into politics, I would claim that there is a third thing available as long as we each are alive - birthdays. We can make claims to the contrary as regards the number or the date, but the truth still prevails.  

My lovely wife has long held the belief that her birthday is her business and hers only. We all know the fallacy of that position with the multitudes of required signatures and birthdates needed for federal forms, hospital forms and applications for virtually anything else. 

She has often baffled questioners by giving only the month and the date when asked so that they don’t do the math and compute her age. 

We celebrate Jeannie's birthday as boldly as she will allow but always with purposeful intent and love for this remarkable lady. Her special birthdays are slightly more celebrated than those in between (as per her request), but there have been notable exceptions - her 16th specifically. We obviously go back a long way.  

This was the first of her birthdays we celebrated together, having started going steady in late December 1963. She had not had the chance to explain her position on birthdays and parties at that point. I was happy that her special day fell on Sunday that year because she turned “Sweet 16.” It allowed for a party with our good friends after youth group on Sunday evening, so I had someone get her cake and had it brought to the house where we met so she wouldn't know till we all got together. 

Christmas past allowed me to get her very first charm bracelet. And, for her April birthday following, I found her first special charm to christen the bracelet - a cash register with a drawer that opened revealing my heart. 

Now I had no idea the damage I had done to this very shy, beautiful, young lady by exposing her to such a large spotlight of attention that included the comedy of opening multiple boxes one inside the next, each one wrapped but smaller than the next, until she reached wit’s end and finally revealed the gift. 

She was such an incredibly lovely mix of expressions and emotions ranging from anger to laughter, to tears and sweetness. 

Over the years I have attempted to replicate that first birthday celebration with a modicum of success, but always with the knowledge that she would be as gracious and thankful as she was at 16. 

The time and place, the number of guests, and the size and value of the gifts were different as befit the birthday being counted, but our joy and love were always the same - knowing that we were with those we loved, sharing that love and being thankful for the opportunity. 

So... happy birthday my little calendar girl.  

You'll always be my “Sweet 16.”  

Love always, David 

The Songs of Babel

The Glowettes - our ladies trio + 2 men - sing all kinds of music but we have a love in our hearts for the 40’s style music. 

Because of our extensive repertoire of big band music, we had been invited to perform on the USS Yorktown for many years. Just the opportunity to perform on this aircraft carrier in front of their beautiful holiday-sized American flag was a treat for us.  

We were asked to perform for a huge corporate event and we were going to sing most of our usual World War II music. 

As most of you might know, this music can be very ‘wordy’ - VERY WORDY! And learning all the words can be very challenging. 

It seems like all of our songs were like that. But, that's OK, right? Because those challenges can help keep you sharp, keep you on your toes, and keep you young. I'll admit that hasn’t been easy for “the Glows +2.” 

Sometimes we had resorted to using cue cards, or “cheat sheets” as I call them, but that idea was not popular with me. It did become necessary if we had to learn a lot of new music for an upcoming show. In the meantime, we struggled to get away from the idea of cue cards. 

Anyway, back to this corporate event... 

We had added new numbers for this occasion and had rehearsed and rehearsed to make sure we had all the words and choreography as crisp and clean as we could get them for this new show. 

One thing about “the Glows” - we have been performing together for so long that if one of us loses our place in the music or forgets a word, each can turn to one of the others and be given that word or verse in that song. We can always tell if any one of us needs help. 

USS Yorktown - Performance Time: 

The show started. 

About halfway through this show, Ladonna was up for a solo. She had walked out stage front with Lynn and I behind her stage-right because we were singing backup on this particular number. 

This song started. 

And, Ladonna was singing with all her heart - interlude - and she started to sing the second verse. 

Well, at that point, somehow, she had forgotten all the words. 

Because of the confusion as to where she was in the song, she couldn't even repeat the first verse. 

Being as graceful and smooth as she could be, she turned around toward us, expecting one of us to help her out of this situation, only to receive a blank stare from me. This song was a new song and I had no idea what the words were.  Great help I was! 

As I was staring into her eyes that seemed to shout out to me: “Jeannie can't you help me out here?!?” 

At this point, all I could do was shrug my shoulders like, “You are on your own kid.” 

Well, LaDonna turned around toward the audience and with all the confidence she could muster got into the microphone as close as she could and started singing in a language that I had never heard before and hoped that I would never hear again. 

It was like she was speaking in tongues. 

Yes, my friends, she was speaking in tongues! 

Some of the sounds and tones that were coming out of her mouth were unrecognizable - they did not exist.  

Lynn and I were dumbfounded. We tried to add as much background vocal as we could. Did we help or do more harm? I'm not sure. 

I remember looking at the bewilderment in the faces of the people in the audience. 

Bewilderment - I'd say so. 

They were trying to figure it all out. Was there a problem with the microphone, with the background music, with... the who knows what? 

When the song was finished, she received a wonderful round of applause. 

She had performed with confidence. 

That was what our music mentor had taught us to do - to perform with confidence whether you know what you're doing or not. 

Perform with confidence! 

He used this story as an example. He was singing for a huge convention years ago and had rehearsed for months for his vocal presentation. When he got up to the mic, every word just left him except for the name of the song - “Sylvia.” He sang the first word Sylvia, and every word after that was Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia. He sang the whole song only singing the name of the song, “Sylvia.” He said after his performance the audience gave him a rousing round of applause. They loved his presentation and they never knew the difference! Why? Because he performed with confidence. 

Ladonna? She too had performed with confidence.  

Oh yes, now we always ask her to carry a CHEAT SHEET. 

Not going through that again - not even with confidence! 

~ Jeannie Joyner  

Seeing Is Believing

Sight, like seeing? OK, let’s see...

I was born and when I was younger, I started seeing. And then, when I tried to read a book, I couldn’t really see a word. I realized I had lost my sight and then I started getting some sort of eyeglasses and reading glasses. And, then it helped me see what I was reading. Then I’d change glasses a lot. But sometimes when you wanna see more, then you could use contacts. And I used to wear contacts and I would use reading glasses with them. But they would get dust in them and I would stop using them because I didn’t like to have to wear them anymore.

When I would do some reading like with a magnifying glass to read the letters and I used to read words on the TV screen and then I used to work on the computer to make words when I was in high school. And that’s when I started getting big letters and words, that sort of thing. Then I would change out my glasses in general; some were regular some were bi-focal - just some different kinds of glasses.

Big prints and computers and that sort of thing is what I used to work on. I didn’t really stop working on computers, I have a Kindle now. But... the big old computers... when I stopped working on those, it was because I think... I was finished reading... I couldn’t read really anymore at all. It was when my retina got detached. It was this side... [John points to his eye. “Which side is that?”] That’s my left side.

Seeing for me in the light and dark might be different. If you’re in a room and your room is dark you turn on the lamp light because it’s hard to see. Sometimes I used to have my room in the daytime without the lamp light, but in the dark even, I don’t really need it more to see than before. I memorize where things are, so like if I’m going to bed, I know where to go, so it helps me not to bump into things. When the power goes out, it’s ok because I know where everything is. Seeing without electricity is very hard for most. I keep a flashlight nearby, just in case something moves and I don’t know it.

Colors? I know colors like blue, red, black, green, white and sometimes vehicles—like if they’re all red... If you tell me the difference between red and burgundy—it's hard to tell when you’ve got different shades. They are harder to decipher.

For 3-D movies, I put the [3-D] glasses on top of my glasses, but it’s tough because with the one good eye, the movie [just] looks like a movie. With the old yellow pair of 3-D glasses it’s harder to see the picture on the big screen. The newer black ones are a little better.

How does it make me feel with one eye? It’s difficult. It’s hard to read with one eye instead of two eyes. Emotionally, it kinda makes me somewhat happy and somewhat sad. Only seeing in the right eye and not the left eye. It made me sad in general.

My sight makes me feel different than everyone else. I wear larger than normal glasses—thick lenses. I wanna say it makes me sad -- [it’s ok to be sad, sometimes] -- OK, it makes me sad sometimes. It makes me sad because I can’t see very well, and I miss out on some things, that’s correct. But, I’m a happy person. And, I’m happy when I see different near and far. Sometimes I didn’t think I could see something far away but I can. And then close up when they’re near, it makes me happy when I am truly seeing what I think I see [and someone confirms]!

Things are gonna change. Some things get better, some things worse, but I wear my glasses.

John to Brandon: You’re not blind like me... You can see. But we see differently.

Now, some people are blind and can’t see at all and have to walk with a cane especially for sidewalks and stairs. I did walk with a cane for a little bit. I don’t have to do that anymore. I have people to help me out.

Sometimes when you can’t see, people make fun of you or something. To some degree there were people who made fun of me in school, but not all the time. Some people call you names like “four eyes.” When you wear glasses, they do make fun. They’re serious about it. More when I was younger; only in elementary school. But, at Morning Side they didn’t really do it much. And, in high school, not so many people did. I don’t have anyone making fun of me anymore. Hurt anyone for it? Nah... I want to but no, I don’t threaten them...

So, people out there who are... Well, I’ll say if they’re like me... or if they walk with canes or don’t walk with canes... just be careful. You shouldn’t be feeling any different. It’s ok to be different or not to be different. It’s ok to be who they are. And if someone is out there making fun of you, it’s ok, just be yourself, that’s what I do! And that’s all I can say.

~ John Joyner