Touching Some Roots …

Eutaw Springs, S.C., is a suburb, so to speak, of Eutawville which is a suburb, so to speak, of Holly Hill.  When the census-sanctioned population of Holly Hill is 1,281 and the population of Eutawville is 344, and you are Eutaw Springs, really, there can’t be much to you.

Except for the memories.

And the memories returned as we knocked off the miles while traveling through Augusta, then Aiken, then Columbia and then almost to Orangeburg before exiting I-26 in search of the old route I took often to Eutaw Springs and Lake Marion as a youngster.

My Aunt Lackie had lived 89 years, reared three children the right way, earned a reputation for honesty and integrity, and added immeasurably to three communities.  She lived in Eutaw Springs, worked in Eutawville and worshipped in Holly Hill.  No finer lady has ever graced this earth, so our trip back for the celebration of her life included some sadness but mostly memories that are relived with smiles and laughter.

Such memories of this three-town stretch many times involve my cousins – Babs, Gail and Jamie – when we were tots and then pre-teens.  The most stress we knew back then came during our Monopoly games.  Life was simple because life was still ahead of us.  And, all  three of these lives today and their families are wonderful examples for others after all these years.

My parents eventually had property on Lake Marion, and it was a great getaway back in the sixties for me and my teenage fishing buddies.  Four of us would cram into a VW bug and hit the road for an overnighter at Eutaw Springs.  Sleeping quarters the first few trips were on the floor in a one-room shack with a rough bathroom off the back – good enough for guys until my Dad could add on and eventually turn it into a more comfortable house.  The one-room shack was more fun.

Back then, trips to Eutaw Springs were never complete without at least one meal at Danny Bell’s Restaurant.  We didn’t need menus.  Fried catfish.  Every time for everybody.  Danny Bell would sometimes serve us personally and tell us how the crappie and bream were biting.  If anybody knew, it was Danny Bell.  He was sort of a Eutaw Springs hero.

Blount’s Store was across the street from the restaurant.  Mrs. Blount sold us our bait and usually had her own scoop on whether the fish were biting – and which ones.  I sometimes suspected Mrs. Blount would tell us the crappie were active because minnows cost us more than worms, which was to her cash register’s advantage.  Usually, we could only afford the worms anyway.

Blount’s Store is no longer there, but Danny Bell’s Restaurant is, and signs still advertise the popular fried catfish.  Just down the road a neat official green sign now proclaims Highway 6 to be “Danny Bell Highway.”  Rightly so.

Not much else has changed, and I think Aunt Lackie would like it that way.  She and Uncle Jimmy moved into the renovated and enlarged house that was once the one-room shack and enjoyed comfortable waterfront life there for many years.  The evening before her funeral, Aunt Lackie’s neighbors made sure food at her house was aplenty for visiting  family and friends.  While we were there, Cousin Jamie, for my sake, stepped off the part of the house that was once the one-room shack.  It made sense, but I never would have figured it out on my own.

Jamie also mentioned that he found my Dad’s old fishing boat and locked it up inside a fence in Eutawville in case I ever wanted it.  My WW and I made time to see the boat the following day; still had a couple of the same seats and what looked to be the same gas tank.  After about 65 years, the boat needs some cleaning up and repairs, but it no longer needs an owner.

The service the next day in Holly Hill was quite a tribute to Aunt Lackie.  Most times when you are 89, a lot of your friends and family have already departed earth, and attendance at your funeral could be sparse at best.  Not this time.  Half of Holly Hill, Eutawville and Eutaw Springs crowded into the pews of the First Baptist Church of Holly Hill to pay their respects, and it took three ministers to adequately share some of the highlights of her life.

The service was considered a celebration of life rather than a funeral.  For me, however, these occasions are sad.  I especially hurt for my three favorite cousins.  Babs, Gail and Jamie are strong in their faith, though, and time will help.  Their parents certainly taught them well.

After the cemetery service just behind the church, we hugged family and friends and said our goodbyes to my cousins.  A long ride back to Georgia awaited us, but not before one more out-of-the-way trip down Danny Bell Highway.

It took all of about 10 minutes from Holly Hill to Eutawville to that gnat of a suburb called Eutaw Springs.  Not much to it.

Except for the memories.