Sweet Teas

Good morning friends,
     I am going to deviate from the norm today because I had an eye opening, heart warming, simply sensational, well overdue experience in the game we call life this week.  Desiree and I decided to take a vacation this week and just get away.  In the beginning, we used clichés such as, “we just need to get away”, “we deserve it” or the oldie but goodie, “getting away from the rat race”, like we had done so many times before when we wanted to pamper ourselves.  Now to be fair, we did get all those things but we got more…much more.  In a world where tension is high, trust is low and violence is running amuck, we were able to experience the real taste of America.  Not one that is skewed to the left or to the right, not one that is cold, divided or at turmoil, but one that was sorely needed and it rekindled our faith in mankind.  It reminded us that this country is full of wonderful people willing to share their love, friendship, compassion and hope to make a great nation even greater.
     It started immediately as we arrived at the train station in Charleston when we met Sandy Ketchum, our hotel shuttle bus driver, resident tour guide and part time historian.  Sandy is a 73 year old black man who is a native of the Holy City. He is frail, soft spoken and not what one would expect of a hustling, bustling major city shuttle operator.   As we traveled the backroads of Charleston, at a pace that would make a snail laugh, to the airport to procure our rental I discovered that I did not have all of our luggage.  Without hesitation, he turned our carriage around to take us back to the depot before my luggage traveled on to New York possibly to never be seen again.  As the week progressed, the septuagenarian and I formed a bond as we smiled and conversed with one another at every chance meeting.  We basically talked about how things were, how they are now, and how they need to be for society to thrive as a whole.  I love acquiring knowledge from experience.  It truly is the best teacher.
     A few days later on a tour of Charleston’s famous harbor I met a gentleman and his wife as we boarded the pseudo paddleboat that would take us on our journey.  His name was Jose Perez.  He and his lovely wife Elisa were dressed in white and reminded you of a couple from the movie, The Great Gatsby, elegant, refined and classy. He was from New York and spoke with a strong Brooklyn accent.  We talked about the many places to see in Charleston and it’s surrounding areas and found that we had pretty much visited the same attractions, museums, beaches and restaurants, just at different times during our stay.  In conversation, I told him the name of my book and that is when gold was struck. It seems that Jose is a recovering Alcoholic with over 15 years of sobriety. We exchanged numbers, pledged our allegiance and vowed to stay in touch with one another.
     I saved the most inspiring tale of our journey for last.  On the return trip of sunning and funning in Myrtle Beach we stopped at a local dive in Pawley Island, SC to try some of the freshly caught local catch.  It was a small white building located next to a car wash about the size of my garage. The name of the restaurant was Sweet Teas.  There was a line of locals waiting for their orders as the smell of fried shrimp, fried fish and hushpuppies filled the air.  I found out that most of the patrons were retired and had returned to land that their ancestors, some plantation owners, some cotton farmers, but mostly fisherman had owned since there was a South Carolina.  They welcomed us with open arms, took pictures with us and gave us a quick history lesson as our stomachs growled waiting for our delicacies to turn golden brown.  When our order was finally placed in the white boxes with nothing written on the side of them, we exchanged pleasantries, were invited back, then magic happened, David Copperfield magic.  It seems that little Abby, who will turn nine in September had been listening to all of this nostalgia and when I extended my hand to her to shake, she pushed it aside and hugged me around my waist with a grip so tight that an NFL running back couldn’t escape.  I instantly felt the love, innocence and purity that only a child can share.  Needless to say, my first bite of shrimp was a little moist as tears streamed down my cheek and into the my dinner to go as I couldn’t hold back the emotion of the moment.  Yes, we needed this!