One of the greatest joys we garner while traveling is the
opportunity to spend quality time in Small-Town America. In the rigors of maintaining our road
schedule, we’re drawn into locations in search of common services—such as laundry,
groceries, and fuel—but often uncover fascinating gems. While staying at Twin Lakes, we
stumbled upon one of these classic examples of Americana—Pendleton, South
Carolina.
Founded in the late 1700’s, this area was a key agricultural
trade point for both Native Americans & the British. The “well off” of Charleston would
later procure large farms and vacation homes in what was called the
“Upstate.” Wealth & prosperity
continued until the Civil War, when the destruction of battle and economic
reshaping during reconstruction changed the economic landscape.
The town square is still active, with city workers busy
attaching Christmas decorations to streetlamps and a 20’ tree in front of the
historic Farmers Hall on the Square.
The original pharmacy—with a doctors office co-located on the 2nd
floor—has given way to an art gallery, but there is an full-service cobbler
shop (not peach…that’s three doors down at the bakery) that will repair or construct
a pair of shoes for you.
A few streets over is a thoroughfare lined with several
churches of various denominations; most of which have their own congregational
cemetery on-site. Walking the
grounds of these structures reveal the history and longevity of this smallish
community. There are markers
dating back into the early 1800’s, with a few non-descript service-member
markers standing out amongst the ornate.
The repetitive surnames, coupled with the elaborate family markers,
allow one to piece together the social history of this community. All of this just by walking down one
street.
A few streets further stands (barely) the Pendleton Oil
Mill. This complex of rusted metal
and crumbling brick was once a thriving industry for the region. Located track-side, the mill would
extract plant-based oils from the various regional crops—most notably, cotton
seed oil. Today the mill is a
scart of buildings that lay in ruin;
the casualty of modern technology and trade.
What really makes this town great is the people. Everything written above was told to me
by total strangers who I approached and asked if they could tell me a little
bit about their town. Standing a
block away from the mill, I was given a historical account of the political and
agricultural impact of Pendleton—to a degree that will likely never see print
(except here). While enjoying a
fresh-baked apple-cheese danish, I listened as two city workers (hanging
Christmas lights from lamp posts) described the evolution of the town square
and adjacent historical sites. Most of this town looks like it’s in throwback mode;
and the locals I had the pleasure of interacting with don’t seem to think that’s
such a bad thing.
wWw
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