The people here are amazing. The history and scenic beauty of Spartanburg County and South Carolina surprise and motivate me every day.   

2. What is the best thing about your job?

It’s never boring.  I get to promote our community to people who may not know anything about it, but love Spartanburg once they see, hear and/or visit.

3. What’s your go-to local restaurant?

Depends on my mood, but some of my favorites include: Willy Taco, Two Samuels and Wade’s.

4. Carolina or Clemson?

I’m still paying tuition for a daughter at Clemson, so better say GO TIGERS!

5. Sweet tea or unsweet?

We’re in the South, so it shouldn’t be a choice: sweet, all the way!

6. What is one thing that’s made in SC that you couldn’t live without?

A Spartanburg-made BMW x-series vehicle.  The Ultimate Driving Machine.

7. Where is the one place you must go when you have family or friends in town?

RJ Rockers Brewery

8. What’s on your play list right now (band, song or genre)?

Beyonce; Marshall Tucker Band; Jimmy Buffett; Kaskade; Bee Gees; Pharrell Williams; Prince; Hootie & the Blowfish

9. What would be your dream “staycation” in South Carolina?

Weekend outdoor adventures  (cycling, hiking, kayaking); visiting craft breweries, and eating local for every meal

10. What is your fondest memory of growing up/or living here?

Hosting the SC Governors Conference on Tourism and Travel in 2017 and showcasing the culture, history, agriculture, recreation and local products that make Spartanburg authentic and real.

From down the winding road and over the railroad tracks, a high lonesome sound dances through the Francis Marion National Forest. A keen ear might be able to follow the music to the weathered wooden shack hidden at the end of a dirt lane, but we rely on the directions I’d written down before we left home. It is fortuitous, because my phone displays the ‘no service’ warning several miles before we turn off Bethera Road onto the dirt track of Pickin’ Parlor Lane. With a foil-wrapped covered dish in hand, we make our way to the sign announcing our successful arrival at Guy and Tina’s Bluegrass Pickin’ Parlor.

Guy Faulk, a tall, lanky man with a shock of white hair, warmly welcomes us to the music hall he hosts here in the woods, as he has for countless guests every Saturday night for forty years. From a covered area to the left, a group of musicians stand in a circle, strumming and picking songs that I have not heard since childhood. “Come on in,” says Guy. “You can set your dish right inside on that long table, but sign the book first – and put your address. I like to know where folks come from.”

Walking into the doors of the Pickin’ Parlor is much like stepping into a time machine that shoots me straight back to a family reunion in the late 1970s; with the same kind of sweet smiles and greetings from ladies with cheeks flushed by the wood stove, a long table covered with fried chicken and biscuits, coconut pie, and a simmering crockpot of lima beans with ham. Nearby, a huge coffee urn stands, and there are stacks of paper plates, plastic forks, Styrofoam cups, and funeral-type fans advertising everything from the electric co-op to eternal rest. It is a déjà vu that warms my soul.

Snapshots of smiling faces stapled end to end tell a story of lifelong friendships, and an eclectic assortment of black and white photographs and paintings running the gamut from seascapes to charging stallions to fox hunting scenes hang alongside a black sombrero and an impressive array of antlers.  From the rafters above the raised stage area, a dusty, circa 1962 bass swims languidly beside a terrifying stuffed black fox squirrel, with a huge set of steer horns that would have been at home on the front grille of a Cadillac with pointy fins.

Deeper into the room, an assortment of sofas, arranged in theater-style rows, draws us to soft seats, from which we will have a better vantage point to take in the surroundings. On the paneled back wall, Bill Monroe’s iconic white hat is a target that pulls the eye from his smiling poster toward the microphones, numbered 1 through 6, standing on the raised stage and awaiting the notes that will bring them to life.

Bluegrass is many things to many people, but as described by Elisabeth Burkett, editor of inTune, the string band style of music “combines elements of country/western, gospel, and blues music with the British, Irish, and Scottish music Appalachian mountain heritage.” For those new to the genre, think of music you’ve heard by The Avett Brothers, Alison Krauss and Union Station or Ricky Skaggs.

The fiddle, banjo, guitar, and mandolin are by far the most popular bluegrass instruments, along with the upright bass and dobro. Beyond the sofas, a group of six “pickers” gathers to get acquainted before their first set. Like a pick-up football game, each “band” is comprised of whoever shows up to play, and as is the case tonight, some have never played together before. Richard, on guitar, hasn’t been here in 18 years, and it is Dustin’s first time, but within minutes, they all pick and strum to the same rhythm.

No one feels like a stranger, and there isn’t an ounce of pretentiousness in the big room, as baseball caps and suspenders, flannel shirts soft with age, jeans that have earned their frayed pockets, and floral polyester sit comfortably beside khakis and golf shirts. Glancing around at the other patrons of the arts settling in for the night’s performance, I step across the shag-carpeted aisle toward a handsome, well-dressed gentleman to inquire how he found his way here. “Oh, I’m a regular,” says Mel Redford, a resident of North Charleston. “I came with some friends the first time, and I’ve been coming back every week for about 6 or 7 years. I just love this music.”

Before the music starts, I step back to the food table to see if anyone has cut the coconut pie. They haven’t, but when I replace the foil covering, my disappointment prompts a flurry of hands, all reaching to cut me a piece. I watch the seats fill and listen to the hum of friends catching up, and I’m struck by the fact that it feels a little like church. But when the musicians take the stage, instead of ‘Hallelujah,’ they call out requests, encouragement, and some good-natured heckling.

And then the music begins, and nothing exists but the pure sound of what is often called the truest form of American music. There are songs that make you ache with the longing in the singer’s voice, those that have you praying to the Lord for forgiveness, those that make you laugh right out loud, and of course, the ones that accuse lovers with “cheatin’ hearts.” Eyes grow damp when Guy Faulk’s son, Will, a gifted musician and the heir apparent to the rustic concert hall, dedicates a song to his mother, the original inspiration for the pickin’ parlor. Though she passed away several years ago, her essence lingers in the room.

“That’s Mr. Will Faulk on his mama’s guitar,” fiddle player David Brown points out to the applause of the crowd.

Over the course of two, hour-plus sets, the audience claps their hands and taps their toes to a delightful selection of tunes. In the second set, the bow of Brown’s fiddle draws notes from the antique instrument that alternately drenches the room with a sound like warm honey over biscuits, and makes you look around for an approaching train when the iconic tune of The Orange Blossom Special roars across the strings, while Jonathan Nabor’s and Linda Cockerill’s fingers fly across the strings of their mandolin and banjo to bring the train into the station.

You won’t stumble upon the Pickin’ Parlor by accident; it is purely a gathering of like-minded friends and only advertised via word-of-mouth. Chances are that if you find yourself here, you owe someone a thank you note of gratitude for pointing the way. There is no charge, but your covered dish is appreciated, and a dollar or two in the donation jar helps offset the cost of coffee and sodas.

With his dad, now in his eighties, slowing down a bit, Will Faulk has vowed to continue to honor the tradition his mother and father started so long ago.

“They started this right over there in a trailer,” he says. “My mom loved to play and sing, and there wasn’t any place to do that around here. It just kept growing, with people spilling out into the yard, until one day Dad decided to cut down the trees and build this place. I’ve promised him that as long as people keep coming and supporting it, I’ll do what I can to keep it going.”

As we bid goodnight to our new friends, I’m torn between telling everyone I know about this place, and selfishly keeping it a secret. But that would defy the spirit Guy and Tina intended when they founded Guy and Tina’s Pickin’ Parlor, and it is a gift too rich to be kept only on my plate, so I find myself already thinking of the friends I want to invite to hear the music we’ve discovered in the forest.

It’s obvious that bluegrass music virtually runs through the Faulk family’s veins, and as the night begins to wind down without him appearing on stage, I realize that I’ve forgotten to ask Guy Faulk if he plays.  Looking down the dirt road which so many appreciative pickers and listeners have come to enjoy the gift of bluegrass music that he and Tina have offered through the years, he replies, “Sure I do!” And with a twinkle in his eye, he adds, “I play the Big Shot!”

Guy and Tina’s Pickin’ Parlor can be found at the end of Pickin’ Parlor Lane, in Bethera, SC.  Shows are every Saturday night, 6-11 pm.

By Susan Frampton

 Josh Hoke paid attention in geometry class. In fact, it played a prominent role in his high school senior project. “We had to pick something to research and then create a final product based on what we learned, so I picked a surfboard,” he says. Noting the angles of surfboards and how they work with the movement of the waves, Hoke successfully shaped a board that he still rides today. He was awarded an ‘A’ for that first handcrafted board, and took his newfound skill with him to college at Indiana University of Pennsylvania. There, in his student housing, he converted the basement into a workshop. Hoke figured he could add more boards to his collection for less money just by making them himself. “Once I started shaping my own boards, I never rode anything else.”

Hoke grew up in Pennsylvania, spending summers off the coast of New Jersey with his family. It was in the waters of the Northeast that he first got a taste for riding waves, attempting to stand on his boogie board and feeling exhilarated at being propelled by the sea. He finally got a real surfboard around age 10 and continued surfing throughout his summers in New Jersey and later while visiting his sister in Long Island. He claims those areas to be the best for surfing along the East Coast, if not the balmiest. “You just put everything on and go,” he says. “It’s cold, but it’s hardcore.”

After graduating from college, Hoke relocated to Beaufort for his job and met Emmy, now his wife of two years, while they were both surfing off of Hunting Island. A year later, he moved to Charleston to earn a master’s degree in environmental studies from the College of Charleston. Today,  Hoke remains in the Charleston area and spends his days along the South Carolina coast, working for the state’s Office of Ocean and Coastal Resource Management. If there is time left at the end of the day, he usually heads to his James Island workshop–which he also built himself–cranks up some music, and works on his latest project.

The workshop behind Hoke’s house is double-sided; one side is used strictly for shaping boards, and the other is for applying fiberglass. When he begins shaping a board, he glues a long, thin piece of wood lengthwise between two pieces of foam, usually EPS (expanded polystyrene). The thin wood is called a stringer, and it serves to give each board more strength. Once the stringer is set, Hoke uses hot wire cutters to remove the outer layer of the unshaped block of foam, called a blank. This process is called skinning. Once Hoke has finished skinning, he is left with a thinner, smoother blank that will soon become a board. For the shape of the board, he employs handmade templates that hang overhead; Hoke refers to the dangling patterns as his “hardware.” He uses different templates for different types of boards, and each board is customized for the rider and the waves where it will be used. While many people who shape their own surfboards use computer software for their designs, Hoke’s creations are all done by hand.

With the blank set, Hoke is ready to transform it into an elegant structure capable of carrying the human body across the ebbing and flowing moods of Mother Nature. He turns off the overhead light and uses waist-high lighting on either side of his stand for the shaping. The side lighting allows him to accurately see every contour of the board. When the shaping and sanding are complete, he takes the newly-formed board to the space next door for glassing. This is also where Hoke adds his original artwork to the board, using epoxy resin to create unique designs that complement the angles and curvature that will work in tandem with the South Carolina surf.

Hoke’s boards are different from those one might find in a standard surf shop for several reasons. First, his surfboards are designed to work specifically with the local waves. “Most [surfboard] companies are set up for better waves than we have around here,” he says. To maximize the local surfing, Hoke says he usually takes three or so boards with him for a day at the beach – often a longboard, a mini simmons and a fish. “If I get bored or the waves change, I’ll be ready,” Hoke says. Whatever waves the day may bring, Hoke’s boards are shaped with the Lowcountry beach in mind.

Secondly, Hoke applies more fiberglass to his boards than one will find on a typical surfboard. This ensures his boards last a long time. “I’ve never snapped one of my own,” he says. Thicker glass also adds weight to the boards, which often translates into a better ride on the local waves. “I like the way a heavier board surfs; you get more momentum.”

Finally, Hoke incorporates pigmented resin into his artwork rather than paint, explaining that paint bonds to the glass, but resin will bond with the foam, maintaining the integrity of the design. When he shapes a custom board for someone, he will often use colors, designs, or fabric that the customer requests. Once, he shaped a board of pink and purple glitter for a baby gender-reveal party. Most of the time, however, the artwork comes from Hoke’s own mind.

Visibly proud of her husband’s talent, Emmy explains that the design work is not as easy to create as it may appear. “There’s a real art and technique to get swirls to look like swirls,” says Emmy. “With resin, you only have around five minutes before it starts to stiffen. And keeping the colors separated so they don’t blend and turn brown also takes skill.” While Hoke does most of the work himself, Emmy occasionally lends her efforts to steps in the process that could use another set of hands. A physician’s assistant at a local hospital, Emmy says, “At the end of a long day in medicine, it’s nice to come home and spend time on a hobby – and with Josh.” She grabs the first board Hoke ever made for her and flips it over to reveal a short but sweet message of love inscribed for his then-future wife. “At the time, he was working like crazy, shaping and selling a ton of boards,” recalls Emmy. “It turned out he was making extra money to buy my wedding ring.” While full-time jobs keep the couple in the Charleston area most of the time, they try to take a big surf trip once a year, usually to Nicaragua or Costa Rica. “We just got back from Hawaii a few weeks ago,” she says with a smile.

Hoke points to the dozen or so boards he owns, telling stories about the shaping of each one like they are photographs of his life. He even has a few wooden boards, though he rarely makes those these days. “Wooden boards are more like building than shaping,” he says, and notes that the process takes months to complete compared to the weeks it takes to shape a board of foam. He pulls out some of his favorites, talking about each one like he’s visiting an old friend. Yet he downplays the beauty and performance of his one-of-a-kind boards that exude the professionalism of both an artist and craftsman. “You undersell yourself so much,” Emmy teases. Hoke looks down and grins.

Emmy is not his only cheerleader. “Everyone says to quit my job and just make boards, but when it’s one guy shaping and glassing, there’s only so much time,” he says. While he does take custom orders and sells a few boards at McKevlin’s at Folly Beach, Hoke considers himself more of a hobbyist. “I tell people who want custom boards, ‘you might have to wait a while,’” Hoke says.

The couple walks back to the house from their backyard, where flowers, vegetables, and a capering golden retriever complete the idyllic scene. Hoke points out a metal sign on the workshop that was a wedding gift, and Emmy stops to pulls some weeds. The workshop sits on the back of their property, a prominent part of the landscape but far from the primary focus. “Right now, I have the balance that I want,” Hoke says. He then looks toward the centerpiece of his life – the home he shares with Emmy.

For more information about Hoke Handcrafted Surfboards, search “Hoke Handcrafted Surfboards” on Facebook.

By Tara Bailey

For as long as he can remember, Cooper’s Country Store has served as a compass for Salters resident, Mark Tims. Despite the fact that he’s been eligible to vote for well over a decade, when he swings open the door of the two-story, white clapboard building, Russell Cooper nods to the man he refers to as “young Mark,” and from behind the cash register, Kelley Cooper smiles as though a beloved relative has come to visit.  

Hollywood once created a television bar “where everybody knows your name,” and we all secretly wanted to hear ours shouted by the regulars sitting on the stools. We wonder in this day and age if that kind of place still exists, where time hangs suspended in the air, and people look out for one another. For over eighty years, on the stretch of highway linking Manning to Georgetown, Cooper’s Country Store has offered that variety of familiarity to those living in the small farm community and to untold thousands that make it a regular stop along the way.

“This store has been here my whole life,” says Tims, with a distinctive Williamsburg Country accent that is easy on the ears. “I use it as a landmark to give directions to my house. I used to come here with my dad, and now my little girl comes with me. They have everything, and if they don’t have it, they’ll try and find it for you.  It’s that kind of place.  They’re just real nice people.”

A steady stream of cars and pickup trucks pull under the second-story porch which shelters the gas pumps. There is no anonymous card reader to take your payment outside, and customers seem to welcome the excuse to go inside, where country hams hang inside a screened area, and today’s special of barbecue, red rice, and lima beans scent the midday air.  The selection of hot foods changes daily, and Tims advises getting here early if you want to beat the crowd.

As he finishes up with a customer, owner Russell Cooper maneuvers between aisles stocked with a wildly varied range of goods to shake hands, apologizing for being so busy. It is not an unusual state for the store’s proprietor. Where else might the community go to mark a box of rifle bullets, a bag of concrete, two cured country hams, a half-pound of nails, and a quart of chicken bog off their shopping list with one stop?  

Serving the community is a responsibility that Cooper’s family takes seriously, and family is at the heart of the store’s lineage. Cooper describes the offshoot that brought him to ownership.  It is a song of the South that is rapidly fading from the music of modern times.

“The original store was built by Mr. Theron Burrows in 1937, when Highway 521 came through here.  He was a cotton farmer, and his name is still in the window.  My daddy’s brother married his daughter, and when Mr. Burrows died, my uncle took it over.  Kelley, up front, is his daughter —and my cousin.  I worked for him until he died, and then I took it over.  Both my sons went off for college, and they’re with me now.”

“This was once a farming community with a lot of small farms,” he explains. “Tobacco farms, mostly. Now there are a couple of big farms and only a few small ones.  The grocery business has dwindled, but hardware has grown, and we’ve added lumber. My sons, Russ and William, run that. We cook our own hogs every week and added the kitchen for the hot food. Other than that, we haven’t changed much.”

There is an authenticity to the worn, bare-wood floors and no frills displays that harkens back to a time when things were built to last —when we repaired things that were broken and passed things down within the circle of family. It seems likely that the tools, screws, nails, pipes, tie-downs, and wire on these shelves are meant to actually build something solid rather than simply replicate a Pinterest post. Washboards stacked against the wall have little to do with anyone’s abs—except for the exercise they might provide when used to scrub clothes by hand.

On simple wooden benches and a rocking chair in front of the cash register, folks sit and catch up with neighbors and friends who are are second, third, or even fourth generation locals.

Cooper chuckles at the information “pipeline” that runs directly through the store. “Everybody meets up here, and there are some pretty interesting conversations from time to time.  People will come to me and say, ‘I’m going to tell you this, but don’t tell anybody.’ By the end of the day, I will have heard it from ten different people.”

Cooper is soon pulled away to track down an item located somewhere between the peanut butter and gallon cans of hydraulic oil.  From the kitchen, barbecue sandwiches send out smoke signals that are immediately picked up by those waiting at the counter, and the line at the cash register grows longer.  

Soon the seasons will change, and so will the faces of those passing through; with beach traffic giving way to deer hunters, and then the Thanksgiving and Christmas crowd. Bike Week will find motorcycles and leather-clad riders parked under the pecan tree. Time will be set aside on all their journeys to revisit favorite memories of this special place.

And for those who live in the community, as they have for over three-quarters of a century, the crowded shelves of Cooper’s Country Store will provide the material needs of their daily lives, and the white building on the corner at the crossroads will be the compass that points them home—to the place where everybody knows their name.

“I’ll be right back to pay for this, Miz Kelley,” the eternally young Mark Tims says, stepping outside the front door with a bottle of Orange Crush.

“I know you will, Mark,” she says, nodding in his direction as she rings up the next customer. “I know you will.”

It really is that kind of place.

By Susan Frampton

For the scores of people who have visited Drayton Hall since the National Trust for Historic Preservation acquired it in the 1970s, the winding paths through the grounds and stately home quite likely all led to variations of a unified thought: if only these walls could talk. Built between 1747 and 1752, Drayton Hall is the oldest stabilized plantation home still open to the public in North America, the only plantation house on the Ashley River to remain intact after both the Revolutionary and Civil wars, and the site of one of the oldest documented African-American cemeteries still in use. For decades, Drayton Hall visitors have often found themselves using a bit of imagination to fill the gaps between what is presented on site and what life at the home was truly like over the centuries; typically, they listen to an orientation talk outside the home before being led on a tour of the empty house. While visitors have always been able to ask questions and explore the property, without a true visitors or interpretive center, important artifacts and stories have never had a dedicated place to be showcased. But soon, thanks to the passionate drive of recently appointed CEO Carter Hudgins and his dream team of talented staff, all that is about to change.

Carter Hudgins began his relationship with Drayton Hall in his teens, spending his high school years working as a member of the grounds crew. Later, he spent time in Virginia, attending and graduating from Hampden-Sydney College and working as a site supervisor and archaeologist for the Jamestown Rediscovery Project in Jamestown. He went on to gain further education in London, focusing his studies on history and material culture, often recalling Drayton Hall, the place that made such a strong impact on him as a young man. After returning back to the United States, Hudgins contacted a former mentor at the historic site, George McDaniel, who told him about an employment opportunity at Drayton Hall. Hudgins applied for the job and became a part of the Drayton Hall team once again in December of 2006. The organization had recently received an endowment for the creation of a preservation department, enabling it to hire people with the skills to ensure the longevity of the property. Hudgins, armed with education, experience, and passion for the site, quickly set to work, helping to build immensely talented teams, organize initiatives, and plan for Drayton Hall’s future. Time and again, he and many of his coworkers came back to the same conclusion: Drayton Hall had so much more to offer than visitors were currently receiving. Hudgins made it his mission to come up with a solution.

Over the years, Hudgins moved up the ranks at Drayton Hall, switching titles and responsibilities along the way. All the while, he gained further knowledge and insight about the home, the land, the family, and the enslaved people who lived at Drayton Hall. In 2015, following a national search, he was named President and CEO of Drayton Hall, taking over the position of former CEO George McDaniel. During his illustrious 26-year tenure, McDaniel led the charge for protecting the home and telling its stories, and he was particularly dedicated to the cause of building an interpretive center on the site, a mission that was fraught with challenges along the way as funds continuously needed to be redirected for more pressing matters. After McDaniel’s retirement, Hudgins and the Drayton Hall team continued the quest for a place where the broader story of the historic site could be told, and they finally succeeded in securing enough funding for the project. Now, the dream long-held by many who are passionate about Drayton Hall will be realized.

“This is the most significant construction since the main house was built in the 1740’s,” says Carter Hudgins. “It is an extensive project encompassing new roads, parking areas, a new gate house, bathrooms, and all of the crucial components of an expansion. But what is really exciting is the new visitor’s center, which we made a priority, and the exhibit galleries. For the first time ever, visitors will be able to connect with historical objects significant to Drayton Hall.”

Recently, the preservation department at Drayton Hall established an initiative to identify objects that originated at the site with the intention of bringing them back. Working with museums, private collectors, and descendants of the people who called the land home, they have been able to build an impressive collection of artifacts, ready to share with the world. There is a steamer trunk belonging to Dr. John Drayton, found all the way in Mexico. There is an arithmetic book from the 1730’s belonging to the original builder, John Drayton, which includes lessons on plantation economics. There are antique architectural pattern books, wallpaper samples, and an early blueprint of Drayton Hall itself. There are a few dozen pieces of furniture, hundreds of smaller items, and well over a million pieces of archeological finds. Photographs will be on display depicting the changes the site underwent over time, and one of the first exhibits will tell the story of the construction of Drayton Hall. For the dedicated preservation staff, presentation is everything.

“I firmly believe that you can’t understand the complete history of anything without delving into multiple perspectives,” says Hudgins. “In the new interpretive center and exhibition galleries, just as we do on our house tours today, we will examine the lives and contributions of the Drayton family as well as the enslaved people who lived here for so many years. We will also emphasize how we know the things we know: for instance, when we place a chair on exhibit, we want to discuss how it was constructed, what it might tell us about Drayton Hall, and what it might tell us about the person who made the chair. We want to bring an enjoyable and comprehensive learning experience to our visitors.”

The $5 million project is set to be officially unveiled in the spring of 2018, just in time to be surrounded by the beautiful blooms of the Lowcountry. Designed by architect Glenn Keyes, the new experiences at the Sally Reahard Visitors Center are expected to double the amount of time visitors stay on-site, providing guests with a wealth of new knowledge and increased understanding. Additionally, the staff hopes that the quieter features of the project, including gardens featuring historically relevant plants, new and improved pathways moving visitors through the property appropriately, and an updated gift shop will enhance the overall enjoyment of the visitor experience. Most importantly, Hudgins hopes that everyone who comes to Drayton Hall leaves with a renewed sense of cultural and historical understanding.

“There is real power to seeing objects in context,” Hudgins says. “Drayton Hall represents the full spectrum of the history of the Lowcountry, and these tangible elements of the past can help people to achieve a greater understanding of our present. We can’t wait to share them with the world.”

he Drayton Hall expansion will be unveiled in the Spring of 2018. For updates, visit  draytonhall.org, or find the organization on social media sites.

By Jana Riley

Between Charleston and Myrtle Beach, a stretch of land remains unfazed by the sprawling development that usually comes with being bordered by two major tourist destinations. Known as the Bulls Bay Historic Passage, it’s a wilder side of the Lowcountry heavy with Native American history, pirate lore, and pristine natural habitat thanks to the preserved lands of both the Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge and the Francis Marion National Forest. Bulls Bay is named after English settler Stephen Bull, whose ship—named the Carolina of course—initially landed on Bulls Island before Bull began the better-known settlement at Charles Towne Landing.

Originally inhabited by the Sewee tribe, the Bulls Bay area along the Santee River was first settled by French Huguenots around 1685 and was organized officially as St. James-Santee Parish in 1706. It was the first parish established in South Carolina outside of Charleston, and the area was prime real estate for growing rice and indigo. One local planter named Archibald McClellan eventually divided his sizable Pointe Plantation into lots and sold them to other planters for them to build summer homes along Jeremy Creek. Following the collapse of the rice industry after the Civil War, both former planters and freed slaves made this little village called McClellanville their home and turned to commercial fishing as their main industry.

The McClellanville of today is everything you would expect from an authentic fishing village. The town somehow untouched by development has evolved naturally, sort of like a garden left to its own devices under the hot South Carolina sun. It is every bit unpretentious, graciously charming, rugged, dripping with history, and luckily still serving up some of the freshest seafood you could ask for.

Smack dap in the middle of the McClellanville seafood scene is T.W. Graham & Co. The building itself has had many lives, mostly as a general and mercantile-type store. The rumor around town is that in the 1920s, you could even buy a coffin here. The T.W. Graham & Co. passed through only two owners before Pete and Claudia Kornack launched a successful seafood restaurant there in 2003. The Kornacks ran the restaurant for about a decade until the business virtually landed in the lap of current owner Patrick Runey. A Charleston native with former experience in the restaurant industry, Runey found himself working in property management and ready to make a change. When he saw the Kornack’s Craigslist ad listing T.W. Graham & Co. restaurant for sale, he jumped at the chance to work for himself.

As a former customer of T.W. Graham & Co., Runey appreciated the menu so much that he kept it mostly the same with a focus on seafood and southern favorites like fried green tomatoes. His own flair comes in the form of small adjustments, like the red rice recipe simply because, as Runey says, “people want bacon.”

People also want seafood, and here it doesn’t get any more local. T.W. Graham & Co. gets clams from Livingston Bulls Bay Seafood and shrimp from Carolina Seafood, both just down the street. For other seafood that isn’t available from McClellanville, Runey doesn’t venture further than South Carolina, North Carolina, and Florida, besides his scallops that are flown in from Rhode Island.

Must-haves on the menu here are the fried baby clams, the whole fried flounder available on Friday and Saturday nights, or the shrimp, crab, and corn chowder—that’s all in one bowl, folks. Runey and his Johnson & Wales-trained chef Lisle Millard, concoct seasonal specials like Creek Cakes, a shrimp and scallop cake served with a cream or honey Dijon sauce. The desserts are nothing to sniff at either, with options like homemade key lime, pecan pie, and their famous Pawleys Island Pie made with chocolate chip, pecans, and cookie dough.

T.W. Graham & Co. is located at 810 Pinckney Street in McClellanville and is open Tuesday through Sunday for lunch and Thursday through Saturday for dinner.

By Grace Nelson

SWURFER HEADQUARTERS

As you walk into Swurfer headquarters, it is quite clear that while some businesses only mean business, this business means fun. Colorful graffiti covers one wall, and toys of a certain kind are strewn about. There’s a hanging pod made for lounging, and a hammock ready for a catnap. A wood and rope swing—the Swurfer—a hangs prominently from a slack line. Stacks of boards, packaged ropes and handles, and boxes fill a huge portion of the room. In the center of it all stands Rob Bertschy, looking exactly how you would expect the inventor of a nontraditional, boardsport-inspired tree swing to look. Rocking a flat brim hat over shaggy hair, wearing camo shorts, crew socks, and a hoodie, Rob has a wide smile and a welcoming presence. His easygoing demeanor is common among boarders of all kinds: skateboarders, snowboarders, and surfers. I ask him where he lived before South Carolina, and he responds exactly how I thought he would: California. Of course he did, I think to myself, confirming my bias that cool, shaggy-haired adventure seekers most often come from the West Coast. But then Rob surprises me—he only lived in California for a couple of years; he actually grew up in Arkansas, even attending college there. Also, he wants to be sure to mention that the swing was actually his wife’s idea. It is at this moment that I throw my assumptions and expectations out of the window.

Rob joined the Peace Corps after college and traveled to South America, where he spent two years learning the language, communing with the locals, and kayaking to his heart’s content. Upon returning to the States, he moved to Asheville, where he soon met his wife, Brook, at a concert. Missing the ocean, Rob and his wife decided to move to California, and they headed west shortly after they were married. They had a blast, balancing work, family life, and play by meeting up at the beach to surf after Rob finished up work, their two young twins climbing all over his board and toddling after him toward the waves. Seeing how much his sons loved his board, the young father decided to make them their own balance board to use at the beach while watching him surf.

“I wanted something that would help them with their core balance and prepare them for surfing and skateboarding,” Rob explains, “And it had to be beautiful enough that my wife would allow it to just sit around our living room. So I made a simple curved wooden board, and they loved it.”

The family moved to Charleston after two years in California, and with one glance at the sprawling live oak trees on their property, Brook had an idea. She asked Rob if he would be able to string one of the balance boards up as a sort of modified classic tree swing; after trying it, they realized they were onto something. The board worked perfectly as a way to surf the air when waves weren’t an option. As they shared it with their friends and family members, they realized that people of all ages were able to find a comfort level with the swing. One day, Rob even came home to see a fire truck parked outside his home. Finished with a neighborhood call, the firemen were happily taking turns on the swing.

Emboldened, he asked his friend and owner of Wonder Works Toy Store, Christine Osborne, what she thought of the product, and she encouraged him to press on, helping him to get plugged into the specialty toy channels. Having worked for a rapidly growing power tool company for years, Rob was well-versed in bringing new products to market, and he quickly made all of the right moves. After tweaking the prototype, he secured a patent and sourced a manufacturer in Hickory, North Carolina who uses Hard Rock Maple to produce a high quality product. Now, three years later and more successful than ever, the Swurfer has been featured on the Today Show, Live with Kelly, and has won countless awards. They are sold at specialty toy stores, surf shops, at REI stores regionally, and online. The offerings from the Swurfer company are ever-expanding, with new products joining the Swurfer line regularly. For Rob Bertschy, the mission is clear.

“The toy industry is changing, and so much of the new products are focused on electronic devices and screen time,” Rob explains. “There’s virtually no innovation in the backyard. We want to create quality, made-in-the-USA, heirloom products centered around concepts like balance. We want to make the backyard fun again.”

With that, Rob hands me a box filled with all of the necessary parts to hang a Swurfer from a tree in my own backyard, and I am off to test it out on my family.

THE TEST

Even before we have a chance to hang the Swurfer from a slack line in our backyard (given that we have no suitable branches), the thing is a hit. My three-and-a-half year old daughter grabs the board out of the box as soon as we open it, before we can even scrounge around for the instructions. We find her in her playroom five minutes later, laughing and rocking away on the balance board. My one-year-old is fascinated by the wooden handles, and I think he is convinced that they were destined to be drumsticks. My husband is beside himself with excitement, having seen and formed a desire for a Swurfer months ago.

It is a quick setup, which makes sense given the encouragement from the company to take it camping, hiking, or on road trips. I step on it first, tentatively, sure that my lifelong propensity for being uncoordinated will betray me in my quest to have fun on this contraption. But it doesn’t. I instinctively begin rocking side to side, and soon I am lost in the moment. I am soaring, for how long, I cannot be sure. But I am flying, and I am swinging, and I am not the slightly awkward mother of two with responsibilities and a running grocery list and an expanding pile of laundry haunting my every dream. I’m just a kid again, trying a new feature at the park, feeling the wind in my hair. I hear my husband excitedly ask if he can try, himself not too far removed from his childlike wonder. Smiling, I wait for the swing to come to a stop, step down, and offer him the Swurfer. I watch as he bends his knees, rocks back and forth, and starts swaying in a wide, circular motion, a move I saw Rob do back at Swurfer headquarters.

As I watch my husband, I see the young man he was well before I knew him: the skateboarder in Rhode Island, relentlessly practicing his tricks until they landed with accompanying celebration. The decades since then melt away as he flies through the air, experimenting with different stances and movements. Just then, my husband’s two older children come running outside, thrilled to try the toy. Jude, the 11-year-old, braces himself for a learning curve by explaining that it may take a while for him to figure out how to ride correctly. Within 45 seconds, though, he is nearly flying over our heads, having experienced no issue whatsoever with mastering the technique. My 13-year-old stepdaughter, Noah, jumps on after he reluctantly gets off, soaring and smiling with intense joy while yelling, “This is the coolest backyard ever now! It’s like an amusement park ride!”

After she takes the Swurfer for a spin, our three-and-a-half year old princess of a daughter, Forest, comes over, begging us to let her ride her “pony named Cake.” She straddles the swing and uses the bouncing quality of the slack line to mimic a horse galloping, happily yelling, “Kitty up, Cake! Kitty up! Go, pony, go!” After she ostensibly reaches the castle and goes inside for a snack, I pick up our curious one-year-old, Oscar, and sit on the Swurfer as if it is a standard playground swing, holding him against my chest as I gently sway and reflect. With this one backyard addition, I have felt the unburdened freedom of childhood again, my husband has reclaimed the sporting of his youth, the older kids have met a new challenge, and my princess has finally found her pony. Innovative, indeed.

By Jana Riley

As the lights flash, the rails are lowered, and the bridge opens to allow a vessel to pass beneath it on Wappoo Creek. Traffic comes to a stop. Here, where a peninsula city and a sea island meet, the cars and trucks brought to a standstill on Folly Road idle alongside the businesses and shopping centers of James Island’s busy, modern community.

Hidden just beyond the trees and shrubbery north of the highway, McLeod Plantation Historical Site stands, a place where over 150 years earlier, the family of William Wallace McLeod would have peered out at commuters through the glass panes of newly constructed windows. Located just outside Charleston, a city heralded for its rich history, the McLeod historical site’s significance was appreciated by only a select few, until recently, when research expanded the ranks of those privileged to know of the land beyond the moss-draped live oaks. Little research had been conducted on the site before the death of the last owner, William Ellis “Mr. Willie” McLeod, in 1990.

According to Cultural History Interpretation Coordinator, Shawn Halifax, when the property was purchased in 2011 by Charleston County Park & Recreation Commission (CCPRC), it was discovered that the little research that had been compiled on the McLeod Plantation was largely inaccurate. Since that time, the commission has worked diligently to uncover its story. It is a saga told in black and white; of rows of billowing Sea Island cotton and a war that divided a nation; of an unjust social structure, an enslaved people freed from bondage, and a world forever changed.

Though the land McLeod Plantation occupies has been found on records dating as far back as 1671, it was not until the mid-1700s that Samuel Perronneau became the first owner to cultivate it. He commanded his executors to purchase “such a number of slaves as to enable them to settle, plant, and occupy my plantation and lands [617 acres] on James Island.” Other crops were grown, but Perronneau discovered the soil to be unsuited for the type of cotton he planted, so his land yielded a disappointing crop.

Growing in acreage and changing ownership many times over the next century, the land was finally acquired in 1851 by Edisto Island cotton planter William Wallace McLeod. His purchase spanned 914.5 acres of property, yielded directly from Perronneau’s daughter. He named it McLeod Plantation. Though evidence exists of an earlier home on the land, and outbuildings such as “the gin house” have been found constructed of material dating from the 1600s, McLeod’s new home on the site was constructed in 1856, by men and women bound to him by slavery.

McLeod Plantation was a working property, says Halifax, and bore little resemblance to the columned summer mansions of landowners with primary residences in downtown Charleston. The dwelling was approached from the north side of the property via a tree-lined allée leading from the waterfront of Wappoo Creek, a waterway valued not for the vista it provided, but as the vital conduit of the plantation’s goods to the world.

McLeod vastly improved the soil by using experimental clay tile pipes for drainage and augmenting it with the rich, organic plough [pluff] mud of the nearby marshes. He planted a different cotton plant than his predecessor, a variety known as Sea Island Cotton. Originating in South America and spreading up to South Carolina from the barrier islands of Georgia, the tall, long-fiber plant was better suited to the growing conditions along the coast.

The plantation moved to the rhythm of the enslaved men and women from the Gambia River region of Africa. Their labor at one time yielded 100 bales of cotton from the 90 tons of cotton picked per year, making McLeod Plantation one of South Carolina’s largest producers of Sea Island cotton. In addition, the plantation grew sweet potatoes, peas, and corn, as well as operating a dairy, sand mine, and timber farm.

The narrative of McLeod Plantation explores the lives of its people: men and women, black and white, those enslaved, and those who held them in bondage. Records indicate that in the 1860s William McLeod owned 74 slaves, housed in 26 dwellings on the property. The rich Gullah/Geechee heritage of McLeod Plantation’s enslaved population has been carefully preserved and is recognized as a part of the Gullah/Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor for its cultural and historical significance.

Plantation life was extraordinarily labor-intense for the estimated 50 to 60 men and women delegated to work the land. Most planters of the time were of modest means rather than among the elite “gentleman farmers,” often stereotypically depicted. No evidence has been found of William McLeod’s employment of an overseer, and it is thought that he most likely physically participated in much of the difficult agricultural work.

As a supporter of South Carolina’s secession from the Union, when tensions rose prior to the Civil War, McLeod joined the Charleston Light Dragoons to fight for the Confederacy. In 1862, during the mandatory evacuation of James Island, his family relocated to Greenwood, SC. The home served as a Confederate field hospital, headquarters, and commissary before its occupation by the Union Army’s New York 54th Infantry and Massachusetts 55th Volunteer Infantry. Martin Becker, a remarkable free black abolitionist, served for a time as the 55th Infantry’s Quartermaster. Also housed at McLeod was a field office of the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands (better known as The Freedmen’s Bureau), offering food, clothing, medical and educational assistance for thousands of freed slaves and impoverished whites.

Current research has focused on the time period beginning with the plantation’s purchase by William McLeod and follows the threads of McLeod Plantation’s past to the present, revealing a constantly evolving tapestry of time. Six of the 20’x12’ slave dwellings still exist. Today, the dirt street on which the dwellings stand is aptly named “Transition Row,” acknowledging the tumultuous changes its inhabitants endured and overcame. Descendants of those enslaved lived in the houses up until the 1990s.

McLeod Plantation was the last James Island property to return to its pre-war owners, but it never returned to prosperity. Though the descendants who remained would never again enslave or be enslaved, there would be many more years of injustice and inequity. The boll weevil stole away cotton as a cash crop. Societal changes drastically restructured everyday life. In lieu of farming, real estate was sold or rented to provide the family income. Changes made to the original home, including the columned, south facing entrance, were financed by land sales in the early 20th century.

As the last of his line, Willie McLeod resided in the family home until the age of 90, leaving the 37 acres on which his home was situated to the Historic Charleston Foundation, with the stipulation that it be preserved. It would change hands several more times before being purchased for $3 million by Charleston County, with widespread support from the community. CCPR has invested an additional $7 million dollars since that time, in capital improvements.

The land has yet to reveal all that it knows of the years before and after the McLeod’s came to hold it. As the past continues to be uncovered, buildings are stabilized and restored, and stories recorded, McLeod Plantation welcomes visitors to walk its paths and explore the complex relationships of those who lived on its soil—so close together, yet so far apart.

On the back lawn of the main house, the McLeod Oak, thought to be at least 600 years old, has watched over centuries of triumphs, turmoil, and tragedy. Gnarled by time and twisted by the wind, its huge limbs stretch out as though yearning to tell all that it has witnessed. Under the careful stewardship of CCPR, it will surely have the opportunity, as will anyone with a connection to the plantation. All with a story to tell about the plantation are encouraged to share any information with the staff.

Providing an experience like no other, the CCPR Historic Site is open Tuesday through Sunday, from 9:00am to 4:00pm. Both guided and self-guided tours are available for the area that stretches approximately two-thirds of a mile from the Pavilion and Gullah cemetery near Wappoo Creek, to the last home on Transition Row. Visitors may enrich their experience by downloading the free Transition to Freedom app or by borrowing a device from the Welcome Center.

For more information about programs, events, and rentals, please visit CharlestonCountyParks.com or call (843) 795-4386.

By Susan Frampton

Y’all have said that the new album H A R D L O V E is different and adventurous for the band. How so?

Our South Carolina roots have always shaped our sound. I think we could make an all out dance record and it would still have a Southern accent. It can take years for a band to craft a sound they can call their own. We’ve been a band now for 15 years and every time we write and record a new record we feel more freedom to explore new sounds. H A R D L O V E is our foray into the land of synthesizers and heavy drumbeats, so this is the biggest sounding record we’ve ever made.  

You recently announced the second leg of your TOUR DE COMPADRES. What can we expect to see on stage this year?

And spoil all of the surprises? No way! (laughter) I have no idea how many 18 wheelers it’s going to take to move this show from city to city, but we are all very pleased with how big the show looks and feels, so far. We’re gonna have video for the first time because our crowds have grown to 10,000+ and we want everyone from the pit to the back row of the arena to feel like they are connected with us. Okay, okay…a few hints: a dance party with Mat Kearney, gold limousines, a 9 iron, and some ice cubes.

The tour will have you going non stop for four months. How do you keep yourselves entertained on the road?

The whole idea behind TOUR DE COMPADRES is creating a one-of-a-kind mini-festival…

1. All the bands are friends and grew up touring together.

2. These lineups are probably a once-in-a-lifetime pairing because each band is a headliner in their own right.

3. It’s everything you love about a music festival minus walking from stage-to-stage in the hot sun.

TOUR DE COMPADRES is our way of guaranteeing that touring will be fun for us and for our fans. If only we could fit everyone backstage for the late-night jams and collaborations.

Y’all always do an unplugged song (no microphones) during your live shows. How did that start?

We saw Will Hoge sing “Carousel” unplugged at The Handlebar. He was standing on top of the bar with his acoustic guitar and you could hear a pin drop. It was then and there we realized the powerful connection we can have with the crowd when we push all of the technology to the side for a moment. Also, we’ve been harmonizing our voices since we were 7 years old (we were the de facto stars in many low-budget Christmas musicals when we went to school together—and I’m very glad none of it has made it to YouTube).

Tell us about the Needtobreathe Classic.

The NEEDTOBREATHE Classic is an annual golf tournament that raises money for OneWorld Health (OWH), a Charleston based non-profit that builds health clinics in developing countries. The tournament raises awareness and resources that directly impact the lives of everyday people who have ZERO options for healthcare where they live. 

We have seen OneWorld Health save and enhance the quality of life for over 100,000 of our brothers and sisters living well below the poverty line. A profound priority shift happened in me the first time I watched a 4-year-old boy named Ronald smile from ear-to-ear as he finally took his first steps with leg braces provided by OneWorld Health. His muscles were very weak from Yellow Fever. They were able to treat that too. His mother cried and kept saying “God bless you” in Swahili. Life changing moments like this happen every day and OneWorld Health is growing rapidly because it has a sustainable business model which people love because they know that the money they donate will be multiplied.

 I have to brag on our fans. They realize how important this is. Last year, our fans raised enough money to build a brand new OneWorld Health clinic in Nicaragua (~$250,000)! We are more proud of this than any amount of success we’ve had in the music industry. 

Your music has evolved a lot over the years. Has that been organic or intentional?

Both. Bo Rinehart (guitarist, songwriter) is also a crazy talented visual artist. He is the mind behind every NEEDTOBREATHE graphic you’ve ever seen and he is constantly using different mediums to achieve different looks­—oil paint on canvas, crayons on wax paper, mascara on a sketchpad. In the same way, every record starts with us going into the studio every day and making a big mess with art supplies. At the end of the day, it’s all about whether the song is good or not. 

How has your songwriting process evolved over the years?

I have had a front row seat for watching the songwriting process of principle writers, Bear and Bo Rinehart. They are both prolific and extremely hard working. Bo has over 1500 song ideas to pull from at this point, so assembling great records is getting both easier and more difficult because there are so many different feelings, sonically and lyrically, that may never see the light of day.

Bear and Bo are from Possum Kingdom, South Carolina. What is Possum Kingdom like?

I have been there many times! We all went to summer camp there. Bear and Bo’s dad, Bill Rinehart, ran the youth camp—and being the mischievous hooligans we were, we often broke into the candy stash. Possum Kingdom epitomizes life in the country. Wide open spaces and busy bare feet, swimming in the pond, building forts in the woods until dark. I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I’m actually glad cell phones didn’t exist back then… it might have taken half the fun out of those genuine moments of boyhood. As technology transitions from being a matter of convenience to a matter of dependency, we must be careful not to abandon the innocence of childhood and the simple pleasures of life. If you need a reset, go to Possum Kingdom or to my treehouse retreat, which is nearby.

Are there any new bands or new records that you guys are into right now?

Welshly Arms blew us away on The Rock Boat, so we recruited them for TOUR DE COMPADRES 2016. Charleston based Shovels & Rope are a favorite for all of us, too. They make a guest appearance on our new record H A R D L O V E, (which came out July 15th.)A few other bands to mention are Colony House (from TDC 2015)

WATERS, Brother, Dorothy…

Guilty pleasure music—anything you are fans of that’s not too embarrassing to share?

My wife blasts Bieber’s new record PURPOSE on the regs and I love it.

H A R D L O V E was recorded at your Plantation Studios in Charleston. What are the advantages and disadvantages to recording in your own studio?

I end up sleeping in the studio a lot so that I can work super late and then get up and start again. The advantage is that it doesn’t cost us a fortune to experiment with every possible tweak, the disadvantage is that we end up experimenting with every possible tweak.

Y’all could live anywhere in the world. What brings you back to South Carolina?

This is where most people would say “It’s home”, and luckily for us it is. During my childhood I was a little embarrassed to claim South Carolina because we only made the news for race-division issues like the confederate flag and for low standardized testing scores. I am proud that my generation is writing a new chapter of love and equality. 

I’d like to see our state leading the charge to eradicate systemic discrimination built into old legislation. The Carolinas are home to some of the prettiest backdrops in the world. I got married seven weeks ago at my family farm (Bolt Farm) and my bachelor party was on Lake Keowee —I cannot imagine a more inspiring setting. We all live in Charleston, SC now, which has been racking up awards recently as the #1 city in the U.S. and the world. We discovered this about 10 years ago and have been broadcasting the beauty of Charleston ever since. 

I don’t want to say we deserve all of the credit for these awards (laughs), but I will confirm that after touring the world and visiting every city in the U.S. over a dozen times, there is no place else we’d rather call home.

Few places can evoke a sense of nostalgia for days outside of one’s own lifetime or memory, but Charleston’s newest boutique hotel, The Dewberry, does just that. From the moment visitors are swept into the lobby through the revolving brass doors, The Dewberry beckons guests to grab an expertly crafted cocktail, relax into the plush couches, and live a life of midcentury modern luxury.

Situated adjacent to popular Marion Square, which plays host to regular festivals and weekly farmer’s markets, The Dewberry occupies the former L. Mendel Rivers Federal Building, which was occupied from 1964 until it was vacated in 1999 following damage from Hurricane Floyd.  As a result of its nearly 15 year vacancy, many locals and newcomers have no prior connection to the location, and, given the period-specific style of its architecture, interior design, and furnishings, it is not much of a stretch to imagine that The Dewberry is simply a time capsule of a luxury hotel, perfectly preserved since the 1960s.

The reality, of course, is less romantic; the building was used for governmental offices, including the IRS, for over thirty years. After the hurricane of 1999, the building fell into disrepair, asbestos was rampant, and nobody touched the place for nearly a decade. In 2008, the property hit the auction block, where it was promptly scooped up by Atlanta-based Dewberry Capital, headed by former Georgia Tech quarterback John Dewberry.

Following the acquisition of the Meeting Street federal building, Dewberry and his team spent eight years painstakingly laboring over every detail in an effort to create a luxury hotel unlike any other. Starting with the necessary major projects, the team removed asbestos, cleaned the place up, knocked down unnecessary walls, and re-framed different spaces to reflect the needs of the hotel, including adding an entire seventh floor. Then came the more unusual projects, like bringing in the ground floor walls by about eight feet and leaving arched columns along the outer edge of the building to mirror the look of a Southern wrap-around porch.

Indeed, no element of the space fell outside of the discerning gaze of Dewberry, who revels in “getting it right,” in a stylistic and historically appropriate way. In every decision, Dewberry (and his fiance, Jaimie) sought to pay homage to the building’s 1960s roots, and the result is a 155-room hotel that feels like it is right out of the set of the popular AMC show “Mad Men,” complete with vintage furniture sourced internationally, locally produced art from the era, and even thoughtfully designed lighting and fixtures.

A visit to The Dewberry, whether for lodging, for a cocktail, or to dine at the on-site restaurant, Henrietta’s, begins with friendly valets, large brass doors, and the gleaming welcome of a mass of white marble, hand-selected by Dewberry and Brown in Danby, Vermont. Arriving street-side, a large, wall-mounted brass historical map of Charleston greets visitors near the concierge desk and Henrietta’s restaurant, while entering from the rear parking lot into “The Living Room” lounge area feels much like coming home.

The Living Room is smartly appointed with seating for any occasion: a conference-size table mingles elegantly with couches, highback chairs, and barstools. Danish modern bookcases frame the space, stacked appropriately with vintage books, plants, sculptures, and notions. A framed photo of John Dewberry’s father holds a place of honor next to the enormous brass bar, while hardwood floors reclaimed from a Virginia tobacco barn add warmth. Around the corner, toward Henrietta’s, two unique retail stores sit across from one another, filled with expertly curated goods. Named “Hunt” and “Gather,” the stores collectively form “Fieldshop,” which offers a range of Southern staples perfect for gifts.

As for Henrietta’s, the restaurant is a “French brasserie by foundation, southern by region,” serving up elevated versions of familiar, seasonally-appropriate dishes. With black and white tile floors, white tuxedoed wait staff, and floor to ceiling cafe windows, the environment is decidedly classic, and an excellent complement to the sophisticated hotel.

Upstairs, each of The Dewberry’s 155 guest rooms is as thoughtfully designed as its first floor. Featuring high quality linens and mattresses, marble bathrooms, and plush lounge areas, the rooms offer a quiet and unique respite from both the bustle of the city and mediocre lodging as a whole. Hand-selected spirits and snacks are on offer in the living area, while toiletries designed in-house are available for use in the bathroom. Impeccably styled with comfort in mind, the beautiful rooms are likely to find future guests sleeping in a bit longer than usual, if only to immerse themselves in the luxury for a few moments longer.

For larger gatherings, event spaces are at the ready, including “The Swanston Room,” the Ballroom, and the Walled Garden. The Swanston room, a reception area for up to 50 guests, features wall-to-wall avian-themed artwork by Atlanta-based artist Thomas Swanston. Warm lighting dances playfully off of the gold, silver, and platinum cranes within the art installation, lending a cozy atmosphere to the intimate space. Adjacent to “The Swanston Room”, a light-filled ballroom is perfect for dancing and its attached walled garden is sure to host many an unforgettable night in the future.

Walking around The Dewberry is an event in itself, a journey through time, textures, pleasantries, and beauty. As an exercise in paying homage to the past and the city seemingly lacking in much restraint, the entire property feels enveloped in opulence. In a city rich with history, culture, and cuisine, The Dewberry claims its place with equally graceful splendor.

By Jana Riley