The first famous Summerville depot was built in 1880. A unique feature of the depot was its ornate gingerbread-style trimmings. The small Victorian station survived the 1886 great earthquake, but not long after was moved to Ladson to make way for a bigger one in 1902 designed by Frank P. Hilton. It was a grand depot, 100 feet long and 25 feet wide, constructed from wood with wainscoting about halfway up and stuccoed the rest. Passenger train service between Charleston and Hamburg ended in the 1950s, and Summerville's railroad landmark vanished into a debris pile in the 1960s. The gingerbread station was dismantled long before that in 1935.
A photograph, said to be from the 1880s, shows a panorama of the town square with the gingerbread station on the north end, which would put it in the time period before the construction of the town hall on the south end. However, when looking at the photograph, the point from which it was taken required a position of elevation, a birds-eye view, which causes me to believe it was more likely taken around 1893, after the town hall's construction. The town hall belfry or one of the building's windows would have been an ideal place to take the picture. The angle lines up perfectly with the belfry. One source suggests the photographer climbed a tree to take the shot, but that would be no easy task, especially with the camera equipment available in the 1880s. The town hall is a more practical explanation.
Another point of interest is the trees planted on the grassy square. If you look at another photo of the town square and the Hilton railroad station taken in 1908 from almost the exact same vantage point, the trees are at the height you would expect them to be after 15 years of growth.
The gingerbread depot of 1880 was made famous during the great earthquake by the story of Frank Doar, the station master at the time, and it is a ghostly story. Frank recounted: “It was 9:45 pm. The inbound train had just passed Jedburg. Awaiting its arrival, I was peacefully sitting in my chair, drifting in and out of sleep, when I was suddenly startled by an elderly black man who appeared out of nowhere on the depot platform. He was filthy, sweaty, breathless, and agitated. The agitated old fellow excitedly told me he had just run several miles up the rail line from where the tracks were severely bent and that I should release warning flares immediately to alert the incoming train of the impending danger.
I knew everybody who worked the line and thought I knew everybody in the community, but I never saw this man before tonight. The moonlight glistened off his sweaty hair, giving the top of his head a halo effect. I would have ordinarily been apprehensive about such a demand. However, on this occasion, I sensed the stranger to be sincere. At his urging, I quickly deployed the torpedoes. As I finished putting out the devices, I turned to speak to the old man, but he was gone. It was as if he vanished into thin air.
I removed my pocket watch and glanced at it. The old man’s visit, the warning, and the emergency preparations had taken only five minutes. It was 9:50 pm. At that very moment, an eerie hissing sound enveloped the town, followed by a massive explosion. The ground began to shake violently. I could hear the walls and chimneys of nearby buildings collapsing and the swaying trees being torn out of the earth by their roots. A massive earthquake had struck Summerville.”
The 1902 train depot was probably the same one associated with the story of Harry Woodruff, who worked as a station master for the South Carolina Railroad. One evening, Harry had returned to town after completing business for the railroad. As usual, he was met at the Summerville train station by the family retainer with his horse and carriage. However, to Harry's bewilderment, they did not take their customary route home upon leaving the station. Puzzled, he asked the driver, "Where are you taking me?" Unknown to Mr. Woodruff, his home address had changed while he was away. Sara had purchased a new home on the corner of Richardson Ave and Palmetto Street. The house became known as White Gables.
President Theodore Roosevelt visited Summerville on May 20, 1902, the same year Hilton's railroad station is stated to have been built. The Victorian depot may have already been moved to Ladson, but maybe not. I cannot say with any certainty whether the new depot was finished by the time of Roosevelt's visit or whether it was in the process of construction. Pictures show Roosevelt arriving by way of the railroad and walking where there are two sets of tracks. Judging by the surrounding landscape, he did not disembark the train at the town square. No buildings are in the picture, just open space. There was another stop after a long whistle just outside of downtown Summerville called "West End" near Hickory Street, also called Hickory Hill. Businessmen who worked in Charleston used this stop. It was close to the location of the turntable, the place where the Summerville Short turned around to head back to downtown Charleston.
One thing is for sure the grand station of 1902 was present when Frederick Wagener of the Pine Forest Inn hosted a dinner for President-elect William Howard Taft in January 1909. President Taft and his wife Nellie were frequent weekend guests of Charleston's Mayor Rhett at his home on Broad Street. Mrs. Taft thought Southerners were "strange" for their irritating ritual of "always taking a half hour to get ready for everything."
The South Carolina Railroad played a large part in the growth of Summerville. It is a shame the two famous depots that served the railway and the town were not preserved. Only their stories remain.
If you would like to get a glimpse of what Summerville's Hutchinson Square and the Hilton-designed railroad depot looked like in 1916, make the short day trip to The City of Aiken's Visitor Center and Train Museum. On display is a diorama depicting that scene. Interestingly, the train museum is a replica of Aiken's original railroad station demolished in 1954.
The 1850 South Carolina Railroad Tower Depot on John Street now serves as the Charleston Music Hall. On Ann Street, old train towers now house the Children’s Museum of the Lowcountry and the Best Friend of Charleston Museum. Best Friend was the South Carolina Railroad's first locomotive.
