Summerville Keeps on Rising Like a Phoenix from the Ashes in the Face of Adversity

Summerville, from the time of its conception, has been a place to where Lowcountry residents came to heal and renew. Charleston planters, who perspired in the heat and humidity of their river plantations, marooned themselves there to prevail upon its "remarkably dry and balmy atmosphere." Charlestonians, laboring against the voracious mosquitos and yellow fever of their peninsula estates, traversed the 25 miles to avail upon its "foliage of trees and luxuriant undergrowth" that "shut in any poisonous exhalations that might otherwise arise." Unequivocally, Summerville has been appraised as a "charming, rural, picturesque town with a health-promoting atmosphere."

However, Summerville's journey from "Let The Pines Be Sacred" to "The Birthplace of Sweet Tea" has had its ups and downs. In the beginning, the inviting sandy plateau was dotted with Mosquito houses with roving cattle cutting paths through the many pine trees. Then, the railroad came to town and made Summerville one of its stops and held out the promise of greater things to come, but the pineland village grew slowly in population and accommodations.

Then, in 1860, the inhabitants came under the influence of a "new sprit." The sluggish apathy of the previous years seemed to disappear. An "enthusiasm for progress" pervaded the sleepy community. A new administration was taking charge. The new mayor, Reverend Limehouse, purchased land on the Great Thoroughfare and had a new town hall built with a jail behind it and adjacent was the town market. The Brown's Hotel was open for business with a new ten-pin alley and billiard room along with $.50 tickets to Charleston and back, including carriage ride. The Vose Inn and Mr. Cooper's Paradise were other attractors.

However, a political hurricane was brewing in the social atmosphere and its black, ominous clouds spilled over the Town in a fury. It was now 1861. In the distance, shells rained down on Fort Sumter and the American Civil war was under way. Southern State troops were ordered to rendezvous on the South Carolina Railroad at Camp Woodward in Summerville. It would be a chaotic time with the arrival of the emotionally charged troops.

About the gathering combatants, Major Thomas W. Woodward wrote in his memoirs, "And—folly of follies—you were to be allowed to choose whether you would go as a Regiment or disband and go home, although you had already agreed to offer your services to the Confederacy." He further lamented, "some companies preserved their discipline, others were really but roving mobs of jolly, rollicking soldiers."

Eventually, the uniforms changed from grey to blue. There was a threat the Federals who captured Charleston were going to burn the town. In May of 1865, the Black Union Provisional Brigade moved from their position at Bacon's Bridge to occupy Summerville. With many houses and buildings turned into hospitals, it became the temporary residents for the sickly and wounded.

While recovering from the Civil War, the final years of the 19th century saw two more devastating local events. Summerville was rattled by an earthquake in 1886 and a downtown fire ravaged most of the buildings around the Town's square. As with all fires, the clouds of thick smoke dispersed and sunny, blue skies appeared overhead. The sacred tree's that soothed the first marooners came to the rescue.

The International Congress of Physicians in Paris declared Summerville one of the world's two best places for treating lung disorders. The town rose from the ashes and the pleasant aroma of azalea and wisteria wafted through the tall trees and winding streets. Grand inns and hotels were constructed to accommodate the influx of visitors. It was the "Golden Age of the Inns" and prosperity reigned supreme. But alas, the dubious crown of financial security was soon to be knocked off.

An Economic shakeup called the Great Depression began to change the landscape. The wrecking ball took out two of the Town's premier accommodations, the Pine Forest and Carolina Inn. The Summerville Short no longer stopped and the grand old railroad station disappeared from Hutchinson Square. The Summerville Show stopped the movie projectors from turning. Hurricane Hugo paid an unwelcoming visit and showed no respect for the cherished pines. The downtown area lost its allure.

Then, a call went out. :The show must go on," said the Flowertown Players, and Summerville had a Dream. Every Third Thursday the community would gather together and the shops were going local. The Town's popular magazine made a sweet discovery and the "Birthplace of Sweet Tea" took its honored place among the town's mottos, and now from Botany Bay to Boone Hall, it is "at the heart of it all." Restaurants and cafes are on nearly every corner and in-between inviting patrons to linger a little longer. It seems there is no stopping the Town from rising like a Phoenix from the ashes in the face of adversity, and a little help from providence.

Could there be another civil war, it is in the realm of possibility. Could another earthquake happen, it is a viable danger. Could there be another economic crisis, there is always that prospect. Could there be another Hurricane Hugo, blink your eyes and the weather does change. As heralded in this article, each of these insidious calamities have confronted the Town through its 177 years, and each time without reservation, it has prevailed. The only way Summerville could ever fail is if it would lose touch with its sense of itself. Who it was, who it is, who it needs to be, and who it must be in the ever changing South Carolina Lowcountry.

Visit Summerville        Coastal Coffee Roasters

Summerville Dream     La Rustica - on Magnolia

Flowertown Players      Laura Summerville

Azalea Magazine          Five Loaves Cafe

More Summerville stories.