With the 150th anniversary of the first shots of the American Civil War having just passed, it seemed only appropriate to point the Filmosaur Way-Back Machine at South Carolina, site of those fateful shots and, more recently (though no less auspiciously), a Filmosaur vacation. All of these were take with my first digital camera, a Canon A60, which is still functional more than eight years after purchase, thanks to Canon recently replacing a failed CCD image sensor free of charge. They did this on my S1 IS as well. This is why I have become a Canon loyalist; now if they would just release Linux drivers for the 8800F scanner…but I digress.
The South is not a place that takes too readily to change. A brief stroll around the town of Conway, near Myrtle Beach, showed up ample evidence of this.
Trim back the roots? Nope. Move the wall? Nope. Come up with a temporary solution that can’t possibly become permanent and does nothing to resolve the underlying issue, and perhaps makes things that much more complicated in the process? Sure, why not. As far as I can see, this is the brick wall equivalent of the Compromise of 1850.
Not big on the accommodation of new ideas, either. To wit…
Try as I might, though, I couldn’t find any “Whites Only” water fountains. And I was thirsty.
Still, I don’t mean to be unnecessarily difficult. Well, I do, but only to a point. After that it seems gratuitous, and that’s just unbecoming.
This bridge is apparently famous, or so I was told. It is rather striking, though as you can tell by the throngs of visitors, it is perhaps under-appreciated. The parking lot of the nearby Hooters was, by contrast, full to overflowing. Bloody Philistines….
Heading south to Charleston, we first stopped at Fort Moultrie, overlooking Charleston Harbor and Fort Sumter, site of the first shots of the War of Northern Aggression. Yes, the South fired the first shots in the War of Northern Aggression. I don’t really think I need to elaborate any further. But where are my manners…
You can just make out Fort Sumter in the background. Lest someone claim false advertising, the first shots were not fired by these cannon, which I believe post-date the war.
Charleston itself is lovely. Antebellum homes, gardens spilling over with flowers, and a subtle, welcoming charm. Even a poor misguided Yankee could come to feel at home. Well, almost. It’s still a fine city.
Wandering its back streets, one feels that the past is not quite as distant here as it is elsewhere. Of course, the Stars and Stripes flying proudly there outside an ivy-covered gate just down the road does tend to suggest that the past is not quite as close as it once was. It took a fair bit of ugliness to get to this point, but at least this little corner of the South seems to have settled comfortably into the modern era, having lost little of its charm.