In January 1962, Ann McIntosh, who taught many of you, I'm sure, but who also spent years filing stories about Williamsburg County with the daily newspapers, wrote an article for the News & Courier from notes she had taken in 1961 for stories that, for one reason or another, were never written. Looking back on them now, I wish we knew more about their circumstances. Here is her newspaper article:
"Hundreds of words went out from Kingstree on its doings and undoings during the past year, but hundreds more went unwritten. Some demand to be noticed before the notes are thrown away on 1961.
"Notes on stories like the pup in the pokey. Mrs. J.G. McMaster has a three-legged pet that always manages to run away. Appropriately, he was first picked up on the Columbia airport runway and given to Mrs. McMaster. One night recently he meandered off, and Kingstree policemen––small town policemen know children and pets––called Mrs. McMaster and told her they had Nickie. 'Just keep him down there until I can get him. It's too late to come out tonight,' answered Mrs. McMaster. So errant Nickie spent the night in jail. (NOTE: Mrs. McMaster was, of course, Eleanor Gourdin McMaster, grandmother of current South Carolina Governor Henry D. McMaster)
"Volumes could have been written on the Donald Madsen family who lived for six years in Belgium. Mr. Madsen was manager of the Baxter Laboratories plant at Brussels before coming to Kingstree to start the new plant here. Sandy, 12, had gone to school in Belgium, and her new Kingstree classmates often urged her to speak French.
"Nobody had to urge the irrepressible Christine. The three-year-old was out in the yard chatting away with the yardman. Puzzled at receiving no reply, she turned and looked up into his elderly, wrinkled face. 'What's the. matter,' she asked him, 'can't you speak French?" (NOTE: Donald Madsen spent his entire career working for Baxter, where he went on to head worldwide manufacturing as its senior vice president. He retired in 1986, and died in Phoenix, AZ, at age 81 in 2004.)
"Doctors are busy, the days slip by, and we never asked two MDs if we should put a story about them in print. It's too good a coincidence to omit. Dr. Claffy Montgomery was suddenly stricken with appendicitis in the middle of one 1961 night. His co-worker and office partner, Dr. Howard Poston rushed him to a hospital for an operation. A week later, the recuperating doctor had an emergency call. It was Dr. Poston, whom Dr. Montgomery rushed to the same surgeon in the same hospital –– for an appendectomy.
"There were stories with heartbreak that no one ever knew. The beautiful queens who came to Kingstree for the Christmas Festival seemed not to have a care in the world. But one of them found out about the death of a loved one just before the curtain went up on the beauty contest. She was expected to perform on the program, and she carried on like a real trooper. To this day, only a handful know that she had tears in her heart.
"Christmas is full of touching scenes. Episcopalians will long remember their Christmas pageant. At the last minute it was discovered that the littlest angel, who was supposed to have brought a doll for the manger was sick, and there was no doll.
"'That's all right,' soothed Mrs. Joe Alsbrook, portraying Mary. 'You can use this Teddy bear.' Surely the Baby Jesus would have smiled at the beloved Teddy bear wrapped in swaddling clothes. The only one who didn't understand was the Alsbrook toddler, Joby, who kept pulling back the wraps to look at his Teddy bear.
"A teen-aged son lifeguarded one summer, paying for a cherished transistor radio at the rate of five dollars per week out of each paycheck. In January, a friend, David Ward, was plowing, and Mac stuck the constant radio in his big carcoat pocket to climb up on the tractor with him. The radio must have slipped out of the pocket and was plowed under and lost.
"In April, after 19 inches of rain and some snow, a Negro boy found the radio as he was doing the spring plowing. He said that it was playing as he picked it up. Anyway, it would play and was in good condition in its weather-worn leather case. Radio and battery people were amazed.
"There was a theft, but it wasn't reported. The Kingstree Boll Weevil made his first dramatic appearance in the high school homecoming parade. The boll weevil was an enormous, red, long-snouted head that sat on the shoulders of a prancing, clowning teenager. It was made by Roscoe Hinson and contributed greatly to the fun of football games. When the team went to Johnston to play, the boll weevil went along, too, but he didn't come back. Somebody stole the head right off Scott McFadden's shoulders. (NOTE: I don't know if the Boll Weevil was returned, or if a new one was constructed, but something fitting this description is now in the collection of the Williamsburgh Historical Museum.)
"There were scary incidents. The convict who attacked two young girls here told Sheriff Buford Boyd that he rode into Kingstree on a pulpwood truck at 9 p.m. on the night of the after-midnight attack. He was looking for a car, he told Sheriff Boyd, and wandered around several homes––and one wonders––whose?
"Charlie McDonald must be full of stories about Bernard M. Baruch, but only occasionally does he mention one. We were buying a small pencil sharpener, shaped like a globe, in his stationery store, and commented on its attractiveness. The globe sharpener had also caught Mr. Baruch's attention, Mr. McDonald said.
"'I told him he could have it,' recalled Charlie McDonald, but Mr. Baruch shook his head in rebuke at the merchant for giving away a 19-cent item. 'You'll never make any money that way,' said the man who has given away millions.'"
In today's fast-paced world, these simple little stories would have an even harder time finding space in the news of the day. But, incidents just like these still happen every day in this small town and others all across the country. And we might be a better people if we took the time to acknowledge and appreciate them more. Maybe that could be a goal for all of us in 2022. Happy New Year.