Yesterday was a day to celebrate “progress” in my hometown of Charleston, SC. But while thousands upon thousands of people celebrated, I felt more like mourning. I hate progress, especially when it involves Charleston. But that might be part of what makes me a Charlestonian.
Yesterday, some lucky people took their last drive across the Grace Memorial Bridge (And the Pearlman, though my post is really about the Grace.) and opened the bright, shiny, and progressive Arthur Ravenel Jr Bridge (which will probably be known as the “new bridge” for the next 75 years or so).
You might wonder why this makes me sad, when I haven’t actually lived in Charleston for 25 years. Well be patient, I’m getting to that! The first and most sentimental reason is that I consider the Grace Bridge Story that I’ve heard my mother and my father tell more times than I can count to be the birth story I never really had (I think I take after my mom since my children don’t really have those long, sentimental birth stories that are so popular nowadays). And, it’s definitely the story of my birth as a Charlestonian – since I was really BORN in Virginia!
My dad was in the Navy and as Navy folks tend to do, he found himself transferred to Charleston in the mid 60’s. So, he and my mom packed me into the Rambler and tossed their stuff into a u-haul that was hitched to that little Rambler and headed south. I-26 wasn’t around then so they took the long rambling US17 and what did they see when they arrived? The good ole Grace Memorial – 2 lanes, one headed in each direction, and my mother insisted there was no way she was driving over that thing. Somehow, (this is the sketchy part of the story), my father convinced her that it was the only way in and they had to do it, (duty calls!), and so they did. Every time one of them tells the story, I smile because I’ve never had a moment of worry crossing that bridge. In fact, I’ve always preferred it to the “new” Cooper River Bridge, (which is really the other “old” bridge, the Pearlman). I’ve always smiled because I just have never been able to picture my mother balking at crossing that bridge. It seems out of character but then again, I guess I didn’t REALLY know her very well 40 years ago, did I? I don’t think I’ve ever driven across that bridge when I didn’t think about that story, and I’ve driven over that bridge a LOT!
And there you have it, reason number one about why it makes me sad that the Grace will soon be gone. Reason number two is a little more complicated. It’s all tied up with what being a Charlestonian really means (at least in my opinion). This new bridge is truly representative of what makes Charleston the city it is. It’s the ability to jump forward and embrace the biggest and shiniest and the best or put the biggest and shiniest face on the old and ugly for as long as they can and then quickly toss the old and ugly aside when it doesn’t suit its needs.
At least when you’re listening to the nice tour guides telling you that they never sold slaves in that slave market, it was all a lie, and it was just called that because it is where the slaves went to shop for their owners you can look at that market and know what you know; know what is no longer politically correct to say. It isn’t pretty and it isn’t something to be proud of but it is a big part of what made Charleston the city it was then, and what it is now.
But when you’re crossing that nice new bridge it won’t be long before you won’t even be able to look out and see the old Grace and what she use to mean to the city. The old and ugly will be gone and there won’t be anything at all for people to look at and know what they know. Oh sure, folks who remember can tell the story and point out to the emptiness and say right there, the Grace use to sit, and the Pearlman too, but it just isn’t the same as being able to see it and picture what that was like. It’s just not the same. Hmph! Who needs progress? Unfortunately, the city of Charleston does.
(Thanks to the nice Sun and Moon Sorcery Blog for sharing the event in her blog, I hadn’t been keeping up with hometown news! She and her husband went for a Quiet ride…sort of.)