A quick trip to Charleston
Charleston is a beautiful town. We stayed in a B&B smack dab in the middle of the Historic district on Tradd St. Diane, the owner, moved to Charleston from Ohio 25 years ago. She lives in a big, but not massive, 2-story home with a servants home attached. The entire building is in need of a major renovation. We stayed in the attached servants quarters above the old kitchen. Her home is worth 1.5 million smackers, pocket change compared to the massive and astonishingly expensive homes surrounding her humble historic abode. The money in this small area on the tip of the point is phenomenal. Walking around we wondered aloud how anyone can afford these homes, as in plural, home with an S, if you count the big carriage home typically attached to a massive 3 or 4 story main house. The monthly upkeep alone on a home in the historic district would swallow most people alive. Add in property taxes, initial purchase price, and renovation... wow. Old money baby, old money. That said, walking around was a real treat. Gorgeous homes and lots of snotty rich people turning their noses up at the tourists. "Look at what we have peasant!" We noticed in the main part of downtown, every other store front was an attorneys office. I've never seen such a large concentration of lawyers in my life. Everywhere, even off the beaten path, law offices occupied offices in virtually every building. This explains the wealth, but not how it is possible this many lawyers can find work in Charleston.
Enough about rich people. I don't much like rich people. They tend to vote Republican. After watching an annual parade of very very wealthy society women of the local Hat Club (who know their plastic surgeons like they know their husbands wallet) walk down main street in funny hats, we took a tour out to Fort Sumter. The fort was the flash point of the Civil War. I was fascinated walking around the ruins of the fort. Not much of the original fort remains due to the fact it was reduced to rubble by bombardment during the war and a consequent "rebuild" by the military added a massive concrete bunker/gun mount during the Spanish-American war. Looking out over the bay towards Charleston and out across the ocean, watching the white sails of boats, it was really hard to imagine the fort ever having been used, much less, that men fought to win the fort while others fought to defend it.
Sunday morning we walked all along the battery past hugely huge big ass single-family homes. Astonishing in their workmanship and history. Astonishing that most were inhabited today as they were a century ago, by single families.
That afternoon we drove across the bridge to Patriots Point to visit the Naval War Museum and the USS Yorktown (carrier), USS Clagamore (diesel submarine), and USS Lassey (destroyer). This was one of the most interesting, enthralling, and humbling tourist stops I have ever made, even T was impressed. The history of these boats is astonishing and heroic and sad all at once. Walking down the halls on a boat that young men fought and died on was really indescribable. I was in awe.
Then we walked through the Clagamore... Never in my life have I seen a mechanical machine more complex, with more buttons, knobs, dials, and levers than you could possible count. It was mind bogglingly complex and inconceivabley cramped. The most spectacular piece of the whole sub was the man who was turning a knob on the ceiling of the torpedo room when we slid down the stairs. 47 years ago, he served aboard the Clagamore. He spent 22 months manning the torpedoes in that very room. I asked him how it felt to be back on board sharing his experiences with people like me. His voice changed slightly and his eyes tightened. He almost teared up, but responded that returning to work and doing his part to help preserve his boat was one of the greatest gifts he had ever been given. And, added, "I think when they heard I had served aboard the Clagamore... well, that's why they gave me the job." I shook his hand and thanked him graciously for talking with me.
