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When I discovered my latest problem, I was naked. I raked nearsighted eyes everywhere while water dribbled down the drain.

“How did this happen?” My voice echoed in claustrophobic space. I grabbed a towel and charged from the bathroom, dripping everywhere.

I found the primary offender.

Outside.Continue Reading

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At least one English person learned to boogie board at Sullivan’s Island. That would be Felix, Kate and Phil Shrewsday’s son.

We sat in a sandstorm, at the mouth of Charleston Harbor, and we watched Felix and Cayleigh ride waves, while pelicans fished in the background. Morris Island Lighthouse rode the surf in the distance, the eroded site of the movie “Glory.”Continue Reading

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It all started with Poe. Edgar Allan, to be exact.

We stood with the Shrewsdays at Fort Moultrie on Sullivan’s Island, a fort where American rebels first repelled the British Royal Navy at the start of the American Revolution. It was a crude sight. Crosshatched palmetto logs and sand.

But those logs were sponges to cannonballs. Fort Moultrie was impenetrable.Continue Reading