Is It True or Is It Not--The Phantom Flight Over Summerville

Former Sheep Island Road.

Most everyone loves a good mystery, and Summerville has its share of the unexplained. That is what drew hundreds if not thousands of young people to Sheep Island Road. The Summerville Light is by far the most revered of the area's eerie sagas whose nuances are deeply engrained into the persona of the town's Generation Xers and Millennials. Other well-known paranormal hotspots include the ruins of Colonial Fort Dorchester, the bell tower of St. George's Church, Guerin's Pharmacy, the E Doty Avenue house, the Quackenbush-List home, the Price House Cottage Bed and Breakfast, and Montreaux's Bar and Grill. However, there is one that ascends above all of these. The most controversial of the towns inexplicable takes you to the edge of the fifth dimension, the middle ground between light and shadow.

If the story is true, somewhere in the marked area of the included map is buried the structural remains of a World War II B-24 Liberator Bomber. It is a proposed location based on descriptions found in a beguiling narrative recorded in the book, Haunted Summerville, South Carolina. The author, Bruce Orr, recounts the event as told by two main eyewitnesses, Betty Jo Waring, a spotter on duty in the Town Hall bell tower, and Bobby Anderson, a student in a local school. Other eyewitnesses include fellow students, school faculty, and a crowd of townspeople. The details are as follows:

"Betty Jo watched it come in from the east. She saw parachutes begin to open in the sky one by one. Ten in all opened as the plane began to make circles...and as it flew over, she recognized the large bomber. It was one of ours. The plane was a B-24 Liberator Bomber...The plane began to level out. In his classroom, Bobby Anderson was staring out the window...It barely cleared the store across the street before clipping the treetops...it sputtered along the trees and disappeared...Bobby and his classmates jumped to their feet, raced across the classroom and out the door. They gathered on the football field with the other students and watched the little white parachutes drifting in the April sky...The young boys raced around the teachers and down the path...The boys reached the smoking wreckage and began scavenging souvenirs from the crash site before the authorities arrived...The townspeople lined the road on foot, on horseback, in wagons, and in cars as they hurried to the burning plane...Eventually, the town authorities showed up and extinguished the flames. The military showed up and retrieved what it wanted. Then the bulldozers showed up and buried the rest."

The incident occurred on April 4, 1945.

As you glean the story's passages, you notice the usage of landmark identifiers, such as Town Hall, treetops, a store, a school, and a football field. Also, there would need to be a unpopulated space on the edge of town large enough to accommodate a crashing bomber. A bomber armed with eleven .50 caliber machine guns, carrying a payload of eight sixteen-hundred-pound bombs, weighing in at about fifty-five thousand pounds, and possessing a wingspan of 110 feet. The section of town containing all those characteristics likely puts the crash scene along South Main Street and east just beyond Sawmill Branch.

South Main Street and the school.

The football field.

The store.

Mysteriously, a comprehensive search revealed no Charleston newspapers reported the crash, and that includes newspapers everywhere. The Air Force Historical Studies Office, which maintains records, historical data, and archives, officially maintains the ditching of a B-24 Liberator Bomber never occurred on that date in Summerville, SC. Secrecy was a key element during World War II, and censorship did not want that information to be broadcasted. The war ended September 2, 1945--put it in the X-Files along with Area 51 and the Devil's Triangle. It seems more than just a bomber was buried on that fateful day.

There are a few unexplainable chinks in the telling. According to the story, no one was in the aircraft at impact. All occupants safely exited via parachutes, which included the pilot. I find that difficult to accept. It would mean the pilot, at a safe elevation for deploying a parachute, abandoned his aircraft over a civilian population to crash where ever it may. Any responsible pilot would not have permitted that to happen.

No one knows what the plane was doing and why it ended up flying over Summerville. Speculation was it had been patrolling the coast searching for Nazi U-Boat submarines, but that would have been an assignment for a fighter more so than a bomber. Also, why didn't the pilot ditch the failing aircraft into the ocean, unless he lost total command of the primary flight controls and couldn't do so, but that hypothesis can be quickly dismissed since the pilot was still capable of circling the town.

Despite the notable chinks in the story, the named eyewitnesses Betty Jo Waring and Bobby Anderson cannot be ignored, not to discount a whole school of students and school faculty. Consulting the crew and pilot would be futile, they would be obliged to take an oath of confidentiality. One thing is for sure, the bell in the town hall bell tower would have rung out, thus alerting the firefighters and townspeople of the catastrophe. It served as a fire alarm for the town, indicating by a predetermined sequence of rings what part of town was on fire to direct the volunteer firefighters to the correct location.

Many years have passed since April 4, 1945. Still, there is possibly somebody out there who knows the truth. The question: Who are you, and are you willing to come forward and shed some light on this Summerville mystery?

Otherwise, mystery sleuths, get out your magnetometers and ground-penetrating radar equipped drones, there is a deeply hidden secret needing to be unveiled. This could be a venture requiring the expertise of Josh Gates and Expedition Unknown. Without a doubt, "The Phantom Flight Over Summerville" would make a good Twilight Zone episode.

Middleton Place's Rice Mill--Once a Tea Room Managed by a Summerville Matron and the Digs for a Famous Southern Chef

Halcyon Place was the name of a Southern Style house on South Main Street owned by Mr. and Mrs. George S. Weed at this pivotal time in Summerville's history. It would become the Halcyon Inn during the town's Golden Age.

The inn was not known for accommodating famous guests like the Pine Forest and Carolina Inns, at least I am not aware of any. Framed by the property's groves of magnolias and oaks, its sprawling two-story white-columned porch was a welcoming reminder of space and calmness for its seasonal patrons. A strategically placed joggling board offered an amusing session of relaxing contemplation. If the moment was right and the sojourner willing, the inn's host would retell the endearing story of the fateful circumstances that brought the wooden apparatus to the house.

Mrs. Caroline Parameter, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Weed, was well known for her delicious entrees. Mrs. Parameter also showcased her culinary expertise at the springtime Tea Room on Middleton Place for the Junior League of Charleston during the late 1920s. The Tea Room was the first of the Junior League's fundraising enterprises.

Middleton's rice mill, situated next to the butterfly lakes and the rice mill pond, underwent weighty alterations during its transformation into the "tea room." The revamped two-story building, topped with a mansard roof, offered a tranquil setting for sipping locally grown Southern tea and sharing meaningful Lowcountry conversation. In its second-floor kitchen, League volunteers prepared okra soup and made sandwiches that they served to guests seated at tables overlooking the Ashley River. The first-floor eating area, adorned by a fireplace and andirons, was outfitted with a dumbwaiter the staff used to transfer food from the kitchen.

The Tea Room remained in the Rice Mill until 1949 when it was moved to a new location and became the Middleton Place Restaurant. It was converted to a museum in 1956, featuring a spinning wheel and "Brown Bess" over the fireplace.

The Restaurant building was designed by W. Bancel LaFarge in 1933, based on research done in Barbados, and has the same roof lines as the Rice Mill. Originally used as a guest house, it had two bedrooms and a sitting room upstairs. The cypress-paneled room downstairs was a living and game room surrounded by a screened porch. The Cypress Room, now used as a private dining room, was originally a series of storerooms leading to the plantation office.

In 1985, the owners of Middleton Place persuaded Edna Lewis, one of the country's ten most influential women in the food industry and one of the founders of Cafe Nicholson on Manhattan's East Side, to join them with a goal to inspire a menu based on historical records of early Carolina plantation cooking. She took up residence in the Rice Mill and became their head chef and consultant.

Many ideas for Edna's menu came from a book called "The Carolina Housewife" published in 1847 by Sara Rutledge, a cousin of the Middletons. Although the recipes in the book are incomplete by today's standards, Lewis drew the essentials from them and developed dishes that the well-to-do Middletons might have eaten. Dishes like panned quail with julienne of country ham and spoon bread, rabbit pate, broiled oysters on the half shell with buttered crumbs, pan-fried flounder, watercress soup, grits, shrimp paste, whole strawberry preserves, chocolate souffle, and caramel layer cake.

There are two choices for seating at the restaurant, the dining room or the garden. The view from the dining room is stunning. Lined with large windows, it overlooks the old rice mill pond and picturesque Azalea Hillside. If available, the garden seating offers an intimate, quiet space with a view of the spacious field in front of the South Flanker.

Enclosed by a three-foot brick wall and draped overhead by Spanish moss, a variety of potted plants accented the space--a perfect setting for sipping on an afternoon sweet tea, or if you are feeling a little more fruity, a glass of wine.

Despite the varied menu, I kept it simple and chose the special of the day, a roast turkey sandwich topped with green fried tomatoes and field greens picked from their on-site garden partnered with a side of French fries--sublime.

The casual lunch was sufficient. I was at Middleton Place for its historic surroundings and the garden atmosphere offered by its restaurant. With the warm Charleston sun shining overhead, the setting was perfect for basking in the aura of an antique building and savoring a delicious meal under the shadowy canopy of an ancient oak tree.

In the distance, basking in the soft rays of the Lowcountry sun on the other side of Rice Mill Pond, stood the old brick building that was a rice mill, a tea room managed by a Summerville matron, a museum, and the digs for a famous Southern chef. The halcyon scene was picture-perfect.

Immerse Yourself into an Unforgettable California Spectacle--Pacific Grove's Famous Winter Residents

Each winter, east of the Rockies, millions of Monarch Butterflies migrate to the fir forests of Mexico's Central Highlands in the Sierra Madre mountains in the states of Mexico and Michoacán, west of Mexico City, the place where they winter from October to late March. West of the Rockies, they will migrate to the eucalyptus trees in California's Pacific Grove near the Point Pinos Lighthouse. I have seen it. It is an awe-inspiring sight.

Looking up from the ground below the tree's outstretched branches, you view what you think are its leaves, but you notice something out of the ordinary. As you zoom in with the telescopic lens of your camera, an extraordinary spectacle comes into focus. You are treated to a vision of a restless sea of orange and black clinging to the canopy of leaved branches. The brilliantly colored Monarch Butterfly is among the most easily recognizable butterfly species that call North America home.

The Monarch Butterfly is a work of art. The wingspan of a full-grown adult can reach nearly five inches. If one of these soft denizens of the air landed on your hand, you would barely notice it. They are as light as a feather. Yet, they can navigate winds that would challenge your steady balance. These beautiful and delicate creatures are a marvel of technological miracles and achieve a feat no human can do without the assistance of instrumentation to guide them. They often go unnoticed by us humans until they begin their monumental migration, a time when you will see hundreds of them flying through your neighborhoods.

With no training, no map, and using a brain about the size of the tip of a ballpoint pen, the Eastern Monarch Butterfly makes the epoch journey from Canada to the small patch of forest in Mexico. How does this astounding insect find its way? It utilizes a built-in solar compass.

Up to four generations will make the journey north from spring to summer. Each generation will travel several hundred miles, lay eggs, and die, typically living from 2 to 6 weeks. While consecutive short-lived generations make the journey north, the season's last generation will complete the entire trip back to its place of origin in Mexico all on its own.

How does the last generation know it is time to leave? Its biological clock tells it the time has come. It stops laying eggs, builds muscle, and stores fat. As a result of this process, it grows larger, flies ten times as far, and lives eight times as long as the previous generations, up to 8 to 9 months longer. It is a butterfly super-generation.

Next, its solar compass heading flips from north to south, and it begins its way back to a place it had never been to or seen. After a two-month journey and up to 3000 miles, millions of them arrive at the exact location where their spring relatives wintered and began the seasonal odyssey north.

The Monarch Butterfly and its migration did not slowly evolve over time, it was ingeniously designed. It is the only butterfly known to make a two-way migration similar to birds, aside from the Painted Lady Butterfly. Unlike other butterflies, which can overwinter as larvae, pupae, or even as adults in some species, Monarchs cannot survive the cold winters of northern climates. Therefore, it has no predecessor and no equal.

Summing up, there is no truer defining statement about this ingeniously designed creature than these words, "But now ask the beasts, and they will teach you; And the birds of the air, and they will tell you; Or speak to the earth, and it will teach you; And the fish of the sea will explain to you. Who among all these does not know That the hand of the LORD has done this?" (Job 12:7-9 NKJV) The very first Monarch Butterfly ever to exist was imprinted with its vital genetic code by God at its creation.

I encourage you to take a trip some opportune day to the shores of the Pacific Ocean in California and stand under the tall trees of Pacific Grove. There you will see a spectacle seen nowhere in the world, other than in the Sierra Madres of Mexico's Central Highlands. You will be immersed in an unforgettable vision of a restless sea of orange and black clinging to the leaved branches of the eucalyptus tree, the winter home and origin of the majestic Monarch Butterfly.

Monarch Grove Sanctuary is at 1073 Lighthouse Avenue. With the entrance located just off Lighthouse Avenue, the city park is open from sunrise to sundown and is free for all visitors. The best time to see the monarchs is noon to 3:00 p.m. when the sun is shining brightest on their trees and when a docent is always on duty.