![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
It had been about six years since I last visited my home town in South Carolina, and those six years had not been kind. The town isn't so much dying as slowly fading away. The store fronts along the main streets are weatherbeaten and most of them boarded up. The Red & White Grocery has been replaced by a Dollar General store. The telephone company had closed up its offices in town and the gas station on the corner that once belonged to my grandfather sat there, empty and unwanted.
Across the street from it, a Hardees had opened up and seemed to be doing a brisk business, and further down the street there was a new Pigly-Wiggy supermarket and Subway franchise. But overall the town hasn't seen much growth.
A new school for kingergartners thru eight graders had begun construction, but been stopped for some reason or another and stood, half-finished, across from the high school I once attended. That building was in the process of being turned into the new school district offices, which meant that they had to move the actual high school to the old middle school across town, a building that, after I drove by it, looked like it should be condemned if its insides matched its outsides. I have no idea where they were sending the elementary and middle school students.
Dead palm trees lined the main streets of the town. A few years back the city council had decided to beautify the downtown area. The results, as near as I can tell, didn't meet with anyone's approval or enjoyment. The palms, all imported, died in the harsh ground of my home town and the extended sidewalks and curbs proved to be a major traffic hazard. Semis can pass down the main street, but can't turn because of the construction of the curbs. Faux iron lamp posts had been installed, but they were never on while I was there, and a five foot brick wall had been built along the gully that the trains still run down. I'm not sure what the purpose of the wall was, whether to act as a traffic barrier or something else, but its presence was glaring.
There was a preponderance of dollar stores, second-hand shops and churches. The churches seemed to have become particularly ubiquitous. You couldn't drive a mile without passing some church or other.
As for the people? I didn't see to many young people while I was down visiting. The people I did see, they all seemed to be unhappy. I mentioned it to my mom and she agreed that people weren't happy and that the young people moved away, to Columbia or Charleston, where there were better opportunities.
And in their exodus, my own exodus, the town is withering. In another forty or fifty years, it'll probably be just another name on a map. A speed trap for anyone driving up from the coast, haunted by condemned buildings and the ghosts of what could have been.
Across the street from it, a Hardees had opened up and seemed to be doing a brisk business, and further down the street there was a new Pigly-Wiggy supermarket and Subway franchise. But overall the town hasn't seen much growth.
A new school for kingergartners thru eight graders had begun construction, but been stopped for some reason or another and stood, half-finished, across from the high school I once attended. That building was in the process of being turned into the new school district offices, which meant that they had to move the actual high school to the old middle school across town, a building that, after I drove by it, looked like it should be condemned if its insides matched its outsides. I have no idea where they were sending the elementary and middle school students.
Dead palm trees lined the main streets of the town. A few years back the city council had decided to beautify the downtown area. The results, as near as I can tell, didn't meet with anyone's approval or enjoyment. The palms, all imported, died in the harsh ground of my home town and the extended sidewalks and curbs proved to be a major traffic hazard. Semis can pass down the main street, but can't turn because of the construction of the curbs. Faux iron lamp posts had been installed, but they were never on while I was there, and a five foot brick wall had been built along the gully that the trains still run down. I'm not sure what the purpose of the wall was, whether to act as a traffic barrier or something else, but its presence was glaring.
There was a preponderance of dollar stores, second-hand shops and churches. The churches seemed to have become particularly ubiquitous. You couldn't drive a mile without passing some church or other.
As for the people? I didn't see to many young people while I was down visiting. The people I did see, they all seemed to be unhappy. I mentioned it to my mom and she agreed that people weren't happy and that the young people moved away, to Columbia or Charleston, where there were better opportunities.
And in their exodus, my own exodus, the town is withering. In another forty or fifty years, it'll probably be just another name on a map. A speed trap for anyone driving up from the coast, haunted by condemned buildings and the ghosts of what could have been.
