Summerville's Famous Railroad Depots--They're Gone But Their Stories are not Forgotten

The train depots built by the South Carolina Railroad from Charleston to Hamburg represent the heyday of many small towns, some owing their prosperity to the commerce and economic development it brought. However, since their use has expired, many were abandoned and became liabilities. The railroad demolished some of them, while others survived to the present because the towns they served took steps to save them and are now restaurants, visitor centers, gift shops, and wedding venues. Unfortunately, the two that serviced Summerville suffered a more dire fate before any opportunity could present itself to preserve them.

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.

More Summerville stories

The Riddle of the Holy City--See If You Can Solve It for the Prize

Do you believe yourself to be good at solving riddles? If you do, then this article is for you. However, if you think yourself not to be, take a shot at it anyway. You will be surprised. It is a riddle of the ages for you to solve. It is in the spirit of one of the most interesting books ever written called "The Secret."

"The Secret" is about a treasure hunt devised by its author to take its readers on a journey to cities in the United States and Canada, to enlighten them on events and people that played significant roles in the genesis of the New World.

In 1982, Byron Preiss buried twelve treasure boxes in secret locations in twelve cities. He commissioned twelve mesmerizing paintings to be created containing clues for the seeker to decipher. The ornate boxes were hidden on city property, in local parks, and possibly in your own backyard. Ironically, Charleston is believed to be one of those chosen cities.

Each box contains one of twelve keys. If you solve the clues and retrieve the key, the prize you receive is the jewel accompanying the artwork. You are instructed to send the key to the author and in exchange, he would send you the valuable treasure. There is over ten thousand dollars worth of precious jewels. So far, three have been discovered in Chicago, Cleveland, and the most recent, Boston. 

Preiss was sadly killed in a car accident since, but his estate has chosen to honor his endeavor. You can purchase his fascinating book in which you will find the 12 images and 12 verses along with an unusual and fanciful story about the Fair People on Amazon and several other outlets.

So, lets challenge your wits and have some fun doing so at the same time with a little incentive. I invite you to be the first to solve the accompanying verses with a prize on the completion of a successful journey. It won't be an expensive ruby, but it does have monetary value. If you love the Holy City, it will be an enjoyable hand-son quest to some of its most cherished sights where you must collect vital information by way of challenging clues needed to take you all the way to the secret location. A capsule is buried just underneath the surface with instructions inside.

I know there are individuals who have extensive knowledge of our charming city over others who may be new to the area, so we will see how you fare. The equalizer, I believe, is the clues. They make it a level playing field for everyone.

Check out my recently released book on Amazon, Charleston and Summerville, South Carolina, Soak in the History-Bask in the Amenities. It talks about "the chilling ghostly drink," the "telling ball," and much more. Enjoy Charleston and have fun, my friends.

Ashley River Park—Due to Open Late Summer…Pictures and Video of Progress

Do you desire to escape the Covid 19 Pandemic blues for the great outdoors? Don't we all. A good enticement for satisfying that urge is presently underway just a stone's throw from Bacon's Bridge Road. The $13 million Dorchester County Parks and Recreation Department's Ashley River Park will be an 85-acre activity oasis for Summerville residents of all ages on completion.

The County purchased the 3/4 mile riverfront property for $1.45 million in 2012 from a housing developer who went bankrupt. Thank goodness the housing development never took place. Although many sacred Summerville pines faced the ax in the clearing of the land, this is by far better use of the pristine, upper Ashley River ecosystem. The activity park will include riverside trails, a fishing pond, picnic shelters, a playground, a splash pad, dog parks, a ropes course, and a climbing wall. There will also be an event lawn and pavilion for events, such as concerts, festivals, weddings, reunions, and more. A kayak launch already exists at the Howard Bridgman River Access at Bacon's Bridge.

Due to the recent rains, my trek into the park project, to say the least, was a muddy one, but well worth the effort to provide Summerville residents with an update. On the day I visited, the construction crew made final preparations to lay the cement for the large splash pad, just one of the park's major features. When completed, a replica of the Ashley River surrounded by multi-colored concrete will snake through the splash pad and topped with blue tile. Fountains mounted on the splash pad will spray water. Many of the shelters and buildings were in various construction phases, as were the parking lot, the playground equipment, the dog parks, and the fishing pond boardwalks.

At present, it is a developing recreational island of projects surrounded by South Carolina muck. When finally finished, it will be a water and green space where families will be able to soak in the amenities and beauty along South Carolina's Black Pearl At The Heart of It All. It's scheduled to open in late summer. There will be an entrance fee to cover operational costs that at present have not been determined. Enjoy the pictures and video.

The Ashley River Park is one of five Dorchester County Park Projects. Rosebrock Park is already open with 70 acres of riverbank trails. The Walnut Hill park will feature 128 acres of wetlands and bottomland 2 miles upstream from the Ashley River Park. Summerville's Bend on the Ashley will consist of 38 acres adjacent to town-owned Herbert H. Jessen Boat Landing. Finally, a marsh park on 80 acres of the old Kings Grant Golf Course a mile downstream from Herbert H. Jessen Boat Landing is in the works. It will be managed by the city of North Charleston and include a walking trail and paddle craft launch.

In Charleston, the Truth Lies Somewhere Between the Cooper Sunrise and the Ashley Sunset

Charleston's antiquity runs as deep as its harbor waters and its tales are as tall as the steeple of St. Phillips on Church Street. As one of the oldest cities in America, it is a place where reality and legend walk the same streets declaring a timeless story about the lives of its progeny and their hallowed structures. A place where fact and fiction have been skillfully blurred to the delight of those who come to bask in its charm and grace. This article is about some things you will hear on a horse-drawn carriage ride or walking tour that simply is not likely to be true.

Over the course of 300 years, the Pink House has proven itself resilient. It survived over thirty hurricanes, two major earthquakes, two wars, and multiple catastrophic fires. It has a must-see courtyard designed by Loutrel Briggs and a picture-perfect view of St. Philip's steeple through a window.

Like many old Charleston landmarks, it has acquired a ghost story or two. The apparition sighted and from time to time photographed, is that of a female figure wandering and pacing back and forth as though waiting for something or perhaps someone. Some believe the sightings are the spirit of one of the women who once worked at the property during its tavern and bordello days, and others believe it to be the ghost of the female pirate Anne Bonny. According to the narrative, she resided on the third floor and ran a popular business on the floors below. There are several variants to the story of Anne Bonny. The following tale is the most popular.

Born in Ireland, the red-headed Anne is believed to be the illegitimate daughter of attorney William Cormac and his housekeeper. To escape the backlash the sordid situation created, Cormac left Ireland with his mistress and his daughter. They sailed to Charleston.

Anne was a handful for sure and had a fiery temper. While married to James Bonny, a small-time pirate and informant, she became involved with Calico Jack Rackam. To avoid a beating by her husband because of her affair, she ran away with Rackam and joined his pirate crew on a ship they stole in New Providence called the William.

Mural at Pirate Cove Playground, Folly Beach

In 1720, Jonathan Barnet attacked Rackam's ship and took him prisoner with Bonny, Mary Read, and the rest of the crew. The punishment for piracy in the 18th century was execution by hanging. One by one, her friends perished, including Calico Jack, but Bonny and her close friend, Mary Read, pleaded they were both pregnant. The court spared Bonny and Read from hanging like the others. She began to serve her prison sentence and gave birth, but there is no record of Bonny's release, execution, or death. This has fed speculation as to her fate.

After everything has been searched and said, a Post and Courier article, The true and false stories of Anne Bonny, pirate woman of the Caribbean, summed up Anne Bonny's story this way, "Nearly three centuries after Anne Bonny's trial, we know that a woman named Anne Bonny was alive in the early 1700s, that some people called her Ann Fulford and Bonn, that she lived in the Bahamas for a time and joined a pirate crew."

"We don’t know whether she ever lived in Charleston, who her parents were, whether she married a man named James Bonny, her true role aboard the pirate sloop, what her relationships were with Jack Rackam and Mary Read, and whether she ever was released from the Jamaican prison." Often times, the legend becomes larger than life. In Charleston, the truth lies somewhere between the Cooper sunrise and the Ashley sunset.

This is true of one of Charleston's oldest townhouses located at 143 and 145 Church Street. It was built by Huguenot merchant Alexander Peronneau as a double tenement around 1740, likely after Charleston's great fire of 1740. The material used in its construction was Bermuda stone placed on a brick foundation. Bermuda stone was widely used in the construction of early Charleston. The city's old fortification wall was made from Bermuda stone, as was the 1769 seawall, which was probably destroyed in the 1800s by a hurricane.

In the late eighteenth century, the double tenement was owned by craftsman and planter Paul Smiser. Next, Mrs. Goodwyn Rhett took possession of the property. In 1928, Mrs. Rhett restored the home to a single residence with Thomas Pinckney's help, a local African-American builder. Outbuildings located behind the primary residence were constructed using salvaged brick from the former Shepheard's Tavern on Broad Street, also called The Corner Tavern, which was demolished in the same year.

It is believed, after the restoration of the house, rumors began to circulate claiming pirates lived there in its early days and used an underground tunnel system located in its basement that was connected to the waterfront of the Battery. The rumors stated the tunnels were the primary means of smuggling and escaping by the pirate visitors. During extensive renovations and the redirection of Charleston's sewage systems in the 1930s, the tunnel was filled with sand, as the story tells.

One rumor claims Blackbeard's legendary cache of gold is buried somewhere within the tunnel or in the basement of the house, which remains highly suspect because facts lean toward the presumption Blackbeard never set foot on the Charleston peninsula. As to the assumption pirates stayed there, Charleston's pirate days had ended by 1720. Although, sailors could have stayed at the tenement. However, search as you may, no legitimate evidence has been found to support such claims.

It is hard to say with any surety who visited the double tenement at 143 and 145 Church Street and what happened there. The name Pirate House became attached to the address due to the undocumented stories. Despite contrary facts, it will forever be known as the Pirate House, and the rumor will prevail with those who choose to believe. And to those who choose otherwise, in Charleston, even the truth is legendary. The house at 37 Meeting Street has similar stories.

The single house is an architectural style found almost exclusively in Charleston. The design is responsible for much of the city's unique charm. The floor layout was perfect for the narrow street-facing lots originally laid out in Charleston in the late 17th and early 18th centuries.

The single house is only one room wide and two rooms deep on each of its levels with a central hall between them. They were purposely built with the piazzas facing south or west to get the cooling, prevailing breezes from the sea. It runs the length of the house with a public door facing the street at one end. Visitors would enter the home through this street entrance and traverse the porch to the home's centralized private door. Entertaining was done on the second floor, further from the dust and noise of the street.

While walking or riding the historic streets of the city, a tour guide might tell you single houses were a reaction to the city taxing street frontage, but truth be told, it had more to do with the efficient use of limited real estate in the confines of a peninsula. A Charleston County Public Library article entitled The Charleston Single states, "Early Charlestonians developed the single house as an ingenious solution to the various demands of their unique urban landscape: a house that provided privacy, ventilation, fire protection, and social status within the confines of a tightly restrictive public space."

Charleston's One-time Fort Sumter Hotel—An Ideal Location and an Intriguing History

If you like history and intrigue, you will like this story about an old Charleston landmark. Its address is 1 King Street. It is flanked by the Black Pearl on one side and the iconic South Battery thoroughfare on the other side. Its front yard is the historic oak-filled oyster-shelled pathways of White Point Garden.

When built in the early 1900s, it was the tallest building in Charleston at seven stories high. As you stroll past its front entrance, you will notice a plaque next to the door with the name Fort Sumter House imprinted on it. You will not be able to enter. It is a private condominium complex. However, in 1924, the year it opened to the public, it was a hotel called Fort Sumter.

The Spanish Colonial-style structure was designed by prominent commercial architect G. Lloyd Preacher of Atlanta, GA, and built at a cost of $850,000. A brochure from 1929 advertised the Fort Sumter Hotel as "Charleston's Only Waterfront Hotel. It was described as having "Spacious lobbies, sun parlors, and terraces, comfortably and luxuriously furnished, overlooks the water and offers cordial hospitality in an atmosphere to be found in few hotels." It had two hundred outside guest rooms, each with a combination tub and shower, and comfortable beds equipped with Spring air mattresses.

Among its amenities were a unique ceiling of worm-eaten pecky cypress, a ground floor dining room with soft lights radiating from three tiers of stately electric fixtures, and an expansive grand ballroom and lounge on its second floor. The lobby was designed with pinkish beige marble flooring throughout. The original corridor from the front door to the back of the building was known as "Peacock Alley." Rare in the day, it featured air conditioning and "manufactured ice" in its drinks.

Fort Sumter Hotel's Terrace Dining Room was supervised under the expert direction of a famous chef. Its cuisine offered the choicest fresh seafood and noted southern dishes. It touted its use of ice refrigeration to maintain the taste of food. In 1954, The Rampart Room replaced the hotel's main dining room. The area was designed to be an informal lounge for casual dining and was decorated with a few historic touches, including a large mural of the bombardment of Fort Sumter. The Rampart Room offered menu items such as roast beef, sirloin steak, fried chicken, Spanish Mackerl, soft-shelled crabs, and shrimp pie.

From 1942 to 1945, it served as the headquarters for the Sixth Naval District, after which, it was remodeled and returned to hotel operation in 1946.

Fort Sumter Hotel had an ideal location but never saw the level of success it expected. It traded hands multiple times over the years. In 1967, Sheraton Hotels purchased the hotel for $435,000 and spent half a million dollars on renovations. In 1973, a group of local investors ironically bought the property for $850,000, the original price tag to construct it back in 1923. The investors closed the books on the hotel and spent $2 million on converting the interior into 67 condominiums. Amenities came to include on-site security, parking lots, an exercise room, and a private palmetto tree-lined pool next to Murray Blvd and the Ashley River waterfront wall.

The Fort Sumter Hotel's claim to fame was the individuals who stayed there. The most notable being John F. Kennedy. It is a story similar to the Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard movie called "Allied." At the time, he was a young Naval intelligence officer. John's father had him transferred to Charleston to distance him from a woman introduced to him by his sister. Despite his father's objections, the two kept in contact, and the woman would visit JFK in Charleston. The date was February of 1942. The room number was 132. For several nights, JFK engaged in a romantic rendevous with Inga Arvad, a former Miss Denmark. Adolf Hitler described her as the "perfect Nordic beauty." She was suspected to be a Nazi spy by the FBI because of her connections with Hitler. The room was bugged. The ensuing scandal changed the course of history. JFK's father had his son reassigned to a PT boat in the Pacific after getting word of their encounters at the hotel.

In April 1947, Tennessee Williams and Agent Audrey Wood met at the hotel with Irene Selznick, the wife of David O. Selznick of "Gone with the Wind" fame. They came to discuss her producing Williams' newest play, "A Streetcar Named Desire." Williams hand wrote scenes for the play on the hotel stationery. This fact was mentioned in a New York Post article called Get a piece of Brando for half a million where it stated, "Bundled into a bunch of boxes are the original typewritten manuscript with Williams’ scribbled changes in the margins; scenes he wrote on stationery from the Fort Sumter Hotel in Charleston, S.C..."

Alfred Hutty, an American artist and one of the leading figures in the Charleston Renaissance, completed a mural of the Attack on Fort Sumter for the lobby of the Fort Sumter Hotel in 1949. Throughout the 1950s, Hutty's works were on permanent exhibit at the hotel. His original mural was removed from the hotel and moved to a museum. Since that time, the residents commissioned a reproduction of the mural for the lobby of the building. I have included a photograph of the mural as you see it today. The lobby is stunning.

The scene along the Murray Blvd seawall during the hotel's active years was quite different from what you see as you stroll that stretch of the Ashley river now. Docks extended from Murray Boulevard out into the river along the wall. Boats would drop off and pick up hotel guests at the docks, also used for sunbathing and swimming. They were removed in the early 1970s, just before the hotel closed. Many Charlestonians refer to the Fort Sumter House as the "grande dame."

A Peculiar Summerville House With A Story Next To Unbelievable

Today, it is a fortress of solitude. Obscured by a thick canopy of trees and ornamental bushes, its street entrance is guarded by two brick pillars topped with stately stone lions sitting in wait. The driveway immediately divides with each section leading to decorative iron gates flanking both sides of the hidden property that is encircled by a six foot matching black iron fence. Just beyond the sheltering branches of its solemn trees, the main residential dwelling sits in peaceful repose. Considered one of the oldest in Summerville, and according to the Dorchester County Courthouse—the oldest in the county, the house has a bewildering past that is close to downright mysterious. The address of this matron of Summerville is 1006 South Main Street. According to certain sources, it was built somewhere between 1790 and 1810.

Here is the first of the conundrums. 1006 South Main Street is in Dorchester County and the property records for this address are kept in the Dorchester County Courthouse, but records only date back to the 1880's. The reason for the 1880's date is because Dorchester County as a separate entity didn't exist. The properties in this area of Summerville were part of Colleton County and records were kept at the Colleton County Courthouse. During the Civil War, all the records were moved to Columbia for safe keeping. Unfortunately, General Sherman burned Columbia and all the Colleton County Courthouse records of houses built before 1865 were lost.

The oldest Dorchester County records on hand state Harriet H. Barnwell sold 1006 South Main Street to John Rugheimer in 1881. In the deed of this sale, it mentions a survey being done in 1831. So, now we have the oldest stated date on record. Then, there is a story told by one of its owners, who owned the house after 1978, where they state finding in the upstairs bedroom this saying, "Mary Margaret smoked. 1832." We now have two sources confirming an 1830's date and since someone was living in the house in 1832, it makes sense the house was already in existence and built before 1832. What proof remains of the house being built between 1790 and 1810?

As shown in the South Carolina Department of Archives and History National Register list of 1976, 1006 South Main Street is called the Ancrum House. Porch Rocker Recollections, which was published in 1980, also refers to it as the Ancrum house. The Dorchester County Courthouse records show previous owners, aside from the two already mentioned, were S. Bonsal Brooks, who purchased the property in 1927, Dr. Kenneth Lynch owning it in 1934, and the Fehrs buying it in 1978, which brings us past the 1976 Archives date. No Ancrums are mentioned up to then, which means someone by the name of Ancrum may have owned it at some point, and that obviously would have to be before 1881.

The only Ancrum of any notoriety my research could find from around that time was William Ancrum. He was a wealthy American merchant, slave trader and indigo planter from Charleston, South Carolina who served in the Third General Assembly during the Revolutionary War from 1779–1780, and was around until 1808, which puts him in the 1790 to 1810 period of time. We also know rich Charleston land owners built summer homes in this area of the pineland at that time. Is it possible, this is the Ancrum spoken of? Possible, but it also could have been a relative of this Ancrum. William Ancrum was never married, but he had a brother, George. The George Ancrum name is connected to the Berkeley County Ancrum Plantation.

There is another house bearing the Ancrum name in Summerville. It is located at 515 West Carolina Avenue. According to the National Register, it was constructed circa 1809. It is called the Ancrum-Waring House, but here again, there is bewildering contradictions. The South Carolina Department of Archives and History refers to the house address as 515 and records refer to it as 517 (said to be the second oldest house in town). I have driven down West Carolina and no 515 address exists. Plus, there is a message attached to the record with the words, "stylistic changes; no longer appears to be 1809 but rather 1890." Now, that's very peculiar. So, until further verification, the Ancrum connection to 1006 will remain open to discussion.

There is more conundrums. Today, 1006 South Main Street is a one story home. It has been said the original house had two stories. It appears a fire burned the roof and when it was rebuilt, the roof was lowered to one story. The Ferhs, who owned the house after 1978, said they found two cots in the walls of the rebuilt upstairs where a person cannot stand upright without hitting the roof, which provides proof the area was used as a bedroom at one time. Exactly when the fire took place is unknown, but it had to be before 1978.

To throw more confusion on the matter, one present day real estate source says the home was built in 1982 and was last sold in 1991, while another states the house was built in 1996. How can a house be last sold before it was built. Yet clearly, the known property records show it was built at least sometime before 1881. Let's get on the same page Summerville realtors.

To add more peculiarities to the mix, the property was described as having beautiful brick walkways leading nowhere, the foundations of two slave cottages still visible, a handcuff with chains in the garden, a toppled live oak that once housed a pair of pileated woodpeckers, and the sound of footsteps that fade away.

Here is the peculiarity of all peculiarities. Fern Michaels came to own the house in 1993. A popular Summerville magazine wrote an article about Michaels the author and reported she "bought a 300-hundred year old plantation house (the oldest home in Dorchester County) and embraced her new life as a southern transplant." If this is true, it would put the house's construction approximately in the early 1700's not the 1790s to 1810 stated by Beth's Pineland Village. Michael's did confirm the writing on the rafters "Mary Margaret smoked", but did not mention the "1832 date." Apparently, Mary Margaret did not like the changes the author--who gutted the house--was making. She made her objections known by moving things around, stopping the clocks at 9:10 am once a week, messing around with the author's computer, putting azaleas from the garden on her night stand, and numerous other things. Now, if that is not bewildering and close to downright mysterious, what is?

Seven houses built before 1830 still existed in Summerville at the time Beth's Pineland Village was published. 1006 South Main Street is one of them. If all the written information about the house is true, its construction dates to shortly after the end of the Revolutionary War and near to the time the town of Dorchester on the Ashley River was abandoned (to be modest, the "300 hundred year old" statement is likely a stretch, but then again, who knows.).

1006 South Main Street was around when the little village in the pines was just beginning and residents were doing business at the town market on a street that no longer exists close to where the first town hall used to be. It was reported "every time a child was born in the house, a room was added." The house has changed with the times and so has Summerville. End of mystery, not likely. There could be more to the story, and it's all pretty peculiar to me.

More Summerville stories

The Old Town Hall Bell Tower—The Keeper Of Some Of Summerville’s Most Controversial And Precious Stories

Summerville was a growing town in 1892. With the ensuing growth, time, if not necessity, called for a new town hall to be built. A corner plot was chosen where the streets of West Richardson and S. Main Street intersected. The cost to build it was set at $6,250.

The planned four story building would wisely face the town's main square, an idyllic vantage point. The first floor would house a high-end grocery store called the "Tea Pot". The second floor would contain the municipal offices. On the third floor, a multi-purpose room/auditorium space would be available for special town events such as dances, plays, parties and operas. The fourth story would shelter the structures massive bell, but as history would have it, it would shelter more than just the bell. It became the keeper for some of Summerville’s most controversial and precious stories.

Children were forbidden to go up into the town hall belfry for obvious safety reasons, not to leave unmentioned the easy temptation presented to an impetuous youth to playfully ring the bell. Although, stories tell of savvy youngsters secretly trudging their way up through the humid darkness of the steep, creaky belfry stairs, navigating a hatchway, and then a catwalk to get to the top. Being the tallest building on Hutchinson Square, the view the belfry offered was often the prize. Imagine the thrill one would experience at seeing from above President Roosevelt and his entourage ride by on Main Street as they made their way to the Pine Forest Inn.

Now, visualize the chaos a person could unleash on the town with an unauthorized ringing of the bell. There was a $200 fine for anyone foolish enough to do it. A popular story tells of a physician named Louis Miles ignoring the law and ringing the bell to announce the birth of his daughter to a confused crowd that gathered below. He happily paid the fine not once, but twice for the same reason.

View of Summerville from the old town hall bell tower in its early years

During World War II, civilians were stationed in the Town Hall bell tower as lookouts. Their task was to watch the skies for enemy aircraft and when spotted, sound the alarm. Silhouettes of enemy aircraft were pinned on the interior walls to assist the lookouts in making proper identifications. One night, the town had a scare when out of the darkened skies a plane buzzed the tower. Combined with several other suspicious incidents that night, officials were convinced the town was under attack, but fortunately, it was all a false alarm. It turned out an impulsive local boy on a training flight just couldn't resist the urge to be playful. Maybe, he heard one of the town's unattached pretty girls was on duty that night.

Young ladies, who were on duty in the bell tower, would use the opportunity to do some boy spotting. Young military men were all over the town during the war. The young ladies would use their vantage point in the high bell tower to keep an eye out for a potential date. When a group of interesting prospects were spotted, the young lady would toss a note wrapped around a stone with the date, time, and place of the next American Legion party along with her name to the boy of her choosing with hopes of meeting at the party.

There is an interesting story told by one of those young ladies who was doing "spotter duty" on the date of April 4, 1945. It is an Area 51 type story, except the flying object was identified in this case, but no formal proof has been found to verify the flying object's existence. For one, the wreckage of the B-24 Liberator bomber was buried by the military in the Summerville field where it crashed. Second, the local paper carried no report of the crash. And third, based on their records, the Air Force Historical Studies Office claims no such crash occurred on that date in Summerville and no flight of a B-24 over Summerville existed on that date, as the story is told. Needless to say, everything that has to do with the military during war time becomes classified information. Still, the young lady on duty that fateful afternoon, who I shall leave unnamed, a school full of young children, and the school's faculty would say otherwise, and not to leave unmentioned as additional possible potential witnesses, the ten flyboys who were seen parachuting from the bomber moments before it crashed. It was seen coming in from the east. So, if the story is true, somewhere buried in a Summerville field west of the town hall is the wreckage of a B-24 bomber, but likely hidden below property that has been developed upon by now. The story is called The Phantom Flight over Summerville by Bruce Orr.

School commencements were held in the Old Town Hall on Hutchinson Square. At such an event one evening, in the middle of the ceremony, an announcement was made for the attendees to leave the building in an orderly and quiet manner. Later, it was reported some of the town's officials in attendance had felt an ominous swaying. The upper floors were declared unsafe for public gatherings, in part, due to the weight of the bell in the fourth floor bell tower. This event led to the town hall and its bell tower to be condemned. Thus, the keeper's book of stories closed with the words, The End.

I am sure there are more stories to be remembered and told. If you have a story or know of one, please leave its telling in the article's comments.

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