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McClellanville: 20 Years after Hurricane Hugo
September 21st, 2009 Featured, McClellanville News Daniel Bates Comments
Hurricane Hugo - September 21st, 1989
It’s hard to believe it’s been 20 years since Hurricane Hugo muddied McClellanville’s timeline. The town has made an amazing comeback and it’s finally to the point that you don’t hear that four-letter word in everyday communication now. I certainly couldn’t say that 10 years ago. Time was still measured in terms of “before Hugo” and “after Hugo”, but that past is becoming more and more distant. This anniversary will come and go and my phone will cease to ring from reporters who read my first article about Hugo looking for an interview, maybe a before and after article or a “Where are They Now” piece to catch America up on what the little Village that could has been up to. They want me to point them in the direction of the best scoop, the biggest tear-jerker, or most triumphant return from despair. Well the truth is that’s the whole Village, that’s McClellanville.
A grim reminder of those who lost their lives in Hugo.
Everywhere you look there is someone with a story to tell, though you may not hear it if you shove a microphone in their face. No, they aren’t all stories to be told on the evening news; they’re meant to be told around dining room tables and shared with the intimacy of friends who will understand why you still tear up just thinking about it or why your face turns stiff with stoicism. People who did not evacuate survived through the fears of night by clinging to loved ones even as the water rose around them and praying only to have day break on the fear of the well being of other friends and family and the sadness of the destruction. There were no phone line (or cell phones for that matter), no water, and no power – trees and debris littered the land as far as one could see and a layer of mud and dead fish covered everything. People walked everywhere and passed along news of survival to those they met in the street. No one rested until they knew that everyone was OK and through the grace of God just one life was lost in McClellanville.
Much of the McClellanville shrimp boat fleet was grounded when the water receded
People didn’t just lose their house though, they lost their boats and in turn their livelihood, but the thing that brought them to tears that morning as the sun rose was seeing their wedding album infused with saltwater and mud. It wasn’t that their coffee table was missing it was that their great-grandmother’s coffee table was missing. I was nine at the time and I remember things through the eyes of child, but I grew up more in those few months following the storm than many people do in a lifetime. It sounds odd to say that we (my family and I) were spared because the water only came up to the baseboards in our house and a tree only fell on our boat, but when I looked at others that had seen the water rise to the baseboards of their second floor and trees fall on their houses, I realized that we were. We, like many others, made our house livable and began helping others who were far worse off.
A young Daniel Bates helps out at the ARA gym
Now on the verge of the 20 year anniversary, Hugo is a distant but indelible memory to many but with the flash of a picture, mention of a word, or a certain smell in the air comes a flood thoughts and the emotions that were associated with it at the time. Oddly as I’ve poured over these images and clips of our ravaged town I held myself together, but found myself in tears when thinking about the amazing love poured out by thousands of volunteers that put their own lives on hold to travel across the US and give of themselves. After spending a day throwing half of your worldly possessions on to a garbage pile in your front yard or mopping pound after pound of mud out of your house a smile and a warm bowl of soup was the most precious gift you could receive. Absolute strangers gave and gave until massive 18-wheeler trailers were filled and one after another they arrived with food, clothing, supplies, and volunteers to aid in the rebuilding efforts until the Archibald Rutledge Academy Gymnasium was literally about to burst at it’s seams. Some of these people still stay in touch and care greatly for the people they helped and return to visit the town that they met on it’s worst day and I know that their generosity has humbled us all to see the care and selflessness that our fellow man can give when moved to do so. I’d like to offer a special thanks to the residents of Ocean County, NJ for the gracious outpouring of supplies and volunteers, the West Virginia coal miners who cleared the roads, the town of Beaufort, and the many, many others who worked along their side.
Thank You to all those who volunteered in the months and years following Hurricane Hugo
And still to many more who have moved here since the Hugo, it is just a word, because they have no true knowledge of the events that transpired during and after Hugo in this sleepy village and that, to me, is the most important reason that we memorialize these events, so they will not be forgotten but live on as an important part of the history of McClellanville. Camera’s weren’t as prevalent as they are now and most people had their hands too covered in mud to worry about taking pictures, but the ones that did snap a few shots give us a wonderful ability to look back at these events through eyes not blurred with tears and share our stories with those around us. The following images were taken by my late grandfather, William Baldwin, and McClellanville resident Jim Yergin.
If you haven’t already visited the Town Hall to see Hugo:The Storm in Black in White by the Village Museum you should go. Bud Hill has put together a great collection of images from the storm and opened up his scrapbook of Hugo newspaper clippings to the public and it is truly worth your time. SCETV has also been rerunning their old Hurricane Hugo pieces and a new one entitled The Big Picture: Hurricane Hugo – 20 Years Later with past scenes of McClellanville and interviews of a few residents. Please feel free to pass this along to all you know and love and leave your comments.
* Legal Notice – Copyright 2009 by MyMcClellanville.net – You are free to republish portions or in entirety with credit given to individual photographers noted on the slides and MyMcClellanville.net (link must be included if published on the web).
Houseboat Trip to Cape Romain Wildlife Refuge
June 21st, 2008 Featured Chris Comments
My family recently bought a houseboat and my wife and I were lucky enough to participate in the first trial run. My mother, sister, nephew, and niece had stayed at the beach the previous night and my wife and I were to stay the next night. We followed a long windy creek leading to the back of Sandy Point Beach in the Cape Romain Wildlife Refuge just north of Bulls Bay. Sandy Point and Lighthouse Island are the last spots of land before the Atlantic Ocean begins (similar to the Outer Banks of North Carolina) and have a beautiful sandy beach which remain unspoiled by development (unlike the Outer Banks). The surf was a few hundred yards across the beach from the calmer inland side where we anchored the houseboat. 
Minutes after arriving I couldn’t fight the urge to try to catch what I knew was causing all the swirling and commotion under the water in the 20 foot wide tidal creek. Within minutes I had landed a nice spot-tail bass (AKA red drum) on a cork and mud minnow. Hours more of fishing proved to be fruitless so we went for an evening stroll on the beach where my wife was able to enjoy combing the beach for pretty shells. You’ll see more shells in a square foot of beach in Cape Romain than you’ll find in a mile of tourist havens like Myrtle Beach. Ghost crabs and fiddler crabs by the millions combed the beach for any left over morsels. Clouds covered the sunset but the sky still glowed of beautiful reds, pinks, and oranges.
We settled into our new home and passed the time with cards and books before turning in. I awoke before the sun and the fishing bug biting at my toes (or was that a horsefly?). I casted for bait and stopped back at the houseboat for my fishing rod just in time to witness a beautiful sunrise reflecting off the creek. I headed for the surf and quickly found myself in a school of speckled trout, landing two in a few minutes time (both also on mud minnows). I tried for an hour or two more and caught only small sharks. My wife awoke only to find herself in the middle of a fish cleaning lesson (every girls dream, right?), something I myself hadn’t done in many years.
More walks on the beach looking for the perfect shells for a new wreath and a little more fishing on the back side of the beach where I landed another bass (you guessed it, mud minnow again) and our trip was almost over. We pulled up anchors and started home where we encountered a pod of four very friendly and curious bottle nose dolphins in the creek. We killed the engine and they came right up to the boat to say “hi”. I guess they’ve found that begging for food is easier than hunting it down and performed underwater spins and rose out of the water on their tails. We resisted the temptation to feed these wild creatures and they grew tired of working for no pay and went back to feeding. 
After long hot showers at the house we were tired from all the fun and sun at the beach but we were also hungry. I melted a generous helping of butter in a pan and coated two of the trout fillets in a mixture of flour, salt, and pepper. A few minutes on both sides and the fish was cooked to perfection. I coated the other two fillets of trout with a mixture of thyme, paprika, cumin, crushed red pepper and black pepper to make a blackened rub and cooked them in a fresh batch of bubbling butter. I’m not much of a seafood lover, but I have to admit that both were quite tasty and not “fishy” at all. The fried trout tasty pretty similar to fried chicken but more delicate and moist, while the blackened trout was very flavorful and not as spicy as it sounds, but with a definite kick.
I was in high school the last time I camped at the beach and it was a welcomed opportunity to do it again. After almost 5 years of marriage, this was the first time I’ve been camping with my wife and I was impressed with her ability to “rough it”…we’ll see how she does next time after a more lengthy stay with no air conditioning and running water. Truthfully though, even in McClellanville, work can consume you and turn your life into a grind. A trip to the beach is the perfect way to re-energize and reward yourself for the hard work.
“I would rather be able to appreciate things I can not have than to have things I am not able to appreciate” – Elbert Hubbard