Beware the Plat-Eye!

Years ago, tales of the Plat-Eye, or Plait-Eye, were common in Williamsburg County and other areas of South Carolina. However, from several comments on the "You Might be from Kingstree, if..." Facebook page over the weekend, it appears that our rich folklore is not getting passed down to younger generations as it was passed down to us.

Photos are of various Halloween decorations seen around Kingstree.

We'll start with a comment from Bessie Swann Britton in 1971. During that time, she kept up a lively correspondence with Frank Gilbreath, co-author of Cheaper by the Dozen, but better known in South Carolina as Ashley Cooper who for many, many years wrote a regular column in the News & Courier, called "Doing the Charleston." When he printed bits of their correspondence, he always referred to her as Mrs. BSB of Kingstree. In April 1971, she responded to a mention of the Plat-Eye in a news story by writing to Ashley Cooper, who printed this: "Mrs. BSB writes, 'Here in Williamsburg County our plait eye (as we spell it) comes while we are sleeping and plaits our eyelashes together so we can hardly open our eyes the next morning. That's a sign you need to mend your sinful ways.'"

And that is the version of the plat-eye (plait-eye) story I heard growing up in Williamsburg County in the 1960s. However, in looking over older stories I have found that it is quite a bit different from earlier versions.

Ambrose E. Gonzales, who, along with his brother, founded The State newspaper, wrote about the Plat-Eye in 1918. At that time, he claimed that stories of the Plat-Eye were peculiar to Georgetown and Williamsburg counties. He described plat-eyes as appearing as small dogs or other small animals, but noted that the apparition could also be seen as a wraith along swamps or marshes in which a low-hanging cloud would envelop its victims.

In August 1918, he wrote about Jane, a cook at one of the hotels on Pawleys Island, who was sent on an errand one night by the hotel owner. She was accompanied on her trip down the beach by her estranged husband, Esau. As they walked along, arguing, they surprised a raccoon fishing at the edge of the water. Startled by their voices, the raccoon turned to face them, and as the moonlight reflected off its eyes, Jane went into a panic. As she turned and fled back up the beach, she screamed, "Plat-eye, Plat-eye," at the top of her lungs.

It would seem that these stories were not confined to coastal South Carolina, as Julia Mood Peterkin reported in 1922 from her plantation at Fort Motte in Calhoun County. She noted that plat-eyes were mostly seen in Spring during a New Moon. One of the Black men who lived on the Peterkin plantation told her that you knew you were confronting a plat-eye if a dog ran at your legs and you shot at it, and it turned into a hog. Shoot at the hog, and it would turn into a horse. If you shot at the horse, it would turn into a man with no head, and if you continued to shoot, it would turn into a cloud. Then you run!

In the 1920s and '30s when readers got much information from the daily newspaper, The State published a regular column called "Folk Lore Corner." Here all sorts of folk sayings and superstitions were reported. The University of South Carolina's professor Henry C. Davis was the expert assigned to write about Plat-Eyes and such. He wrote that the Plat-Eye was a pre-Civil War haint, that was especially prevalent in Williamsburg and Georgetown counties. He, too, noted that Plat-Eyes were generally associated with New Moons and small animals, particularly dogs. 

He interviewed one field hand who said he had encountered an indistinct form in the twilight one evening that grew larger until the fiery eye of the Plat-Eye appeared and then vanished. Another man recounted driving down the road and meeting a dog which grew larger and larger as its eyes "commenced to jumping" like fingers waving in his face. Then, it, too, vanished. Still another heard hoofbeats, and a great horse appeared. It suddenly vanished, leaving only a small dog running along the road.

Professor Davis wrote that there was a firm belief in Williamsburg County that a plat-eye could be seen if a person placed matter from a dog's eye into his own eye. "No one, probably, is sufficiently anxious to see Plat-Eye to try this means of second sight," the professor wrote.

In the 1930s, a racehorse owned by Mrs. Payne Whitney of Greentree Stables, was named Plat-Eye, and W. G. Vardell raced a boat by that name in the 1959 Mount Pleasant Regatta, according to sports writer Doug Donahue's story in the News & Courier.

On August 9, 1932, the Greenwood Index-Journal published this poem written by Eleanor Humes Duvall of Cheraw. She spelled it platt-eye. 

Mind what I tell you, whisper it low–/ When the marsh is red 'cause the sun set so/ The Platt-eye's prowling fierce and thin/ in the dark beyond where the woods begin.

He's like a dog when he first appears,/ a lean houn'dog with a wild cat's ears,/ and he grows while you watch to enormous size,/ but it scares you most when you see his eyes.

He dangles them out till they're long and hot,/ and they crackle and blaze like a light'ood knot–/ Then you'd best to run while your feet still go,/ 'cause he'll use them eyes to trip you, sho'.

And they say if he scares a man too bad/ that platt-eye will drive him crazy-mad!

An Eyewitness Account of Big Thursday, 1902

The rivalry between the Clemson and University of South Carolina football teams stretches back to 1896 when USC was known as the South Carolina College (SCC). In those days, the games were always played on a Thursday in early November at the fairgrounds in Columbia. It became known as Big Thursday. However, beginning in 1912, the date was moved up into October, and the game became known as The State Fair Classic, although it was still commonly called Big Thursday. 

The South Carolina Encyclopedia notes that by the 1910s, the game had become "a combination picnic, fashion parade, political rally and drinking bout."

Nell Flinn Gilland, who moved to Kingstree when she married a local boy, Louis Gilland, grew up on the campus of the South Carolina College. Her father, Dr. John William Flinn, was head of the philosophy department and chaplain at the university from 1890 until 1905. Flinn Hall is named for him and was their residence during his tenure at the college.

In 1902, Nell Flinn was one of four young ladies chosen by the Gamecock football team to be their sponsors in that year's battle with Clemson, which some you are aware ended in a Gamecock victory–and an armed riot which caused the schools to suspend play until 1909.

Nell Gilland wrote about that 1902 game in 1929, and those reminiscences were published in The State on game day, October 24. Here is her story:

"When the middle-aged and somewhat disillusioned group of survivors who played on the victorious Carolina football team of 1902 gather Thursday to sit with those of the 1912 team on benches with the coach and squad of today, they probably could not recall, if asked, who were the sponsors of the 1902 team. Alas, the fleetingness of fame! Twenty-seven years ago, they chose four joyous girls to carry with glowing hearts the Garnet and Black banner which floated victoriously over the Purple and Gold that day for only the second game in history begun six years before.

"As for the sponsors, surely I may speak for them all when I say that they can never forget a day which for pure and unadulterated thrills could never be repeated in a lifetime. Bessie Davis, daughter of Professor Means Davis, now Mrs. James White; Floride Barron, now Mrs. E.O. DePass; the late Emma Heyward; and I, Nell Flinn, were flattered by the football squad that year and proudly accepted the honor.

The Gamecocks' 1902 Sponsors.

The identifications are not clear, but it appears Nell Flinn is on the upper right.

Source: The State, Thursday, October 24, 1929

"Little do I know, far removed from such things as I have been for more than 20 years, what being a sponsor means today. The pictures in the annual play an important part now as then, I understand, but no sponsor's outfit today is complete without a corsage. And certainly she must be escorted to the stadium in a decorated limousine.

"But in 1902 (Oh, glorious youth! Oh, simple Southern town that was then Columbia!) we never dreamed of the elegance of "hothouse flowers." Sponsors were driven to the Fairgrounds on Elmwood Avenue in an open victoria, drawn by two, more or less, prancing steeds, with the driver perched upon the box in a brass-buttoned coachman's overcoat that was rapidly turning green. For all elegant occasions, such as the State Ball, these same equipages, only with closed bodies, as it were, were considered the very last word in the sumptuous arrival of a belle of the ball. Her dress might be of 10-cents-a-yard serpentine crepe, of 15-cents-coarse organdy, or even of cheese cloth, for which she paid three cents per, but if her escort, in full swallow-tailed regalia, took her 'slipper bag' from her as he drew her arm on his and gallantly handed her into a 'slam-door carriage,' she had reached the zenith of all possible glory.

"The wheels of the victoria in 1902 were entwined with garnet and black, from the harness floated streamers of the beloved colors, and the driver smartly cracking his whip, urged his sedate team into the semblance of a spirited trot as the sponsors, each gaily waving a sort of shepherd's crook wrapped with garnet and black and tied with flowing ribbons of the same, swept through the gates to a burst of applause and took a strategic position on the sidelines.

"Not then were the fair maidens shown into a decorated box, as now, where they must watch from a decorous distance the exciting struggle. Ah, no! We drove about to see and be seen, and later joined the surging crowd that followed the pigskin up and down the field along the sidelines.

"And what did we wear in 1902? I cannot recall each fetching costume, but describing my own glory may perhaps suggest the grandeur of the rest. Bred on the campus, as I was, I cannot remember a football or baseball season when I did not have some sort of red and black outfit to wear to games, though I cannot claim the distinction of my sister, Margaret (Mrs. George Howe), who was the first sponsor of Carolina's first football team, and herself selected the colors for the team for the feminine reason that they were becoming to her! No such regal glory mine, but whether I wore a sailor blouse with kilted skirt, yoked dress, shirtwaist and gored skirt, or Peter Thompson suit–whatever style and age decreed, mine somehow achieved a dashing combination of the colors for which I should have bled and died far more quickly than for the red, white, and blue. I remember a succession of tam o'shanters crocheted by my own youthful fingers of garnet worsted, topped by a jaunty tassel of black. Long before I was ever chosen sponsor, I had constituted myself mascot of each successive team, and on my Rambler bicycle would peddle madly in the wake of the team-laden streetcar, the boys calling out encouragement to me in kindly amusement.

"In 1902, believe it or not, I still had several teen years left to my credit. But I wore my first long skirt! And that was a ceremony that meant that you had set your feet firmly on the carpet and no retreat was possible. My initial long skirt was direct from New York, with a swishing, thrilling train that slapped at my ankles. With a smooth fitting hipline, it was amply fashioned of black wool voile over a flounced and ruffled black taffeta drop skirt beneath which was worn a similar 'waist petticoat,' also of rustling taffeta, much be-frilled. I discarded for the occasion the popular white china silk shirtwaist (without which no respectable girl's wardrobe of the period was complete), and substituted one of red, tucked from the shoulders to give fullness with puff sleeves ending in deep cuffs. At the back where the placquet fastened, the shirtwaist was securely held down smoothly under the skirt-band by at least three large safety pins, and under the 19-inch leather belt was worn a patent arrangement of intricate design to which the front of the skirt band was hooked down in a point, to emphasize the straight front then so modish. The waist bloused generously over the belt in the fore, and the entire effect was a perfect demonstration of the 1902 silhouette, classically referred to as the Grecian bend. My fetching chiffon hat was pinned with four deadly hatpins above my pompadour, which I achieved by stuffing a black cotton stocking (there were no silk ones) under my front hair, lacking pocket money for a patent contrivance known as a 'rat' and designed to uphold pompadours. The hat brim turned up courageously in front to exhibit the pompadour, and nodding over the whole structure were elegant black willow plumes, as many as you could manage.

"But silken under draperies were forgotten when I trailed along the sidelines annexing cockleburs and dust and germs. Oh, the mad, glad excitement of that victory!

"It is impossible for the youngsters of today to conceive how bitter the rivalry was then between Carolina and Clemson. More than mere desire for athletic championship, it was the outgrowth of years of political bitterness and clap-trap. In our eyes, Clemson stood for all that Tillman and his party had taken away from Carolina. A vivid recollection of my childhood is the early morn when we children rose with our parents to stand in the dawn on the beautiful piazza of what is now Flinn Hall and wave goodbye to departing professors and their families who were forced to leave because of the enormous cuts in the Carolina appropriation effected by Tillman and his supporters. We saw our mother's tears, our father's expression of deep sadness, and we, too, cried, partly in sympathy and partly at seeing our classmates departing with their fathers.

"Thus, Clemson was not only a deadly rival but resented as lessening our former power. Fanning the animosity of Carolina supporters was the fact that teams put out by the school which Tillman described as for "the horny-handed sons of toil" seemed all too powerful to be downed, after the first victory in 1896, by a team from what Tillman scorned as "the gentlemen's college."

"Before the clash of 1902, our family spent a summer at Pendleton, where Clemson summer school students were our constant attendants. To know and admire individuals made us realize that, after all, something good could come out of Clemson. 

"But youth is fierce in its favoritism and to beat Clemson was without doubt still a dearer ambition in our hearts than to conquer a city. So, we yelled ourselves hoarse; we beat our hands in a tom-tom until they were sore. There was no band to harmonize our enthusiasm for us; there was not even 'We Hail Thee, Carolina,' to stir our souls and give us back our dignity. We could only chant that we'd 'ride old Clemson on a rail," and that there'd 'be a hot time in the old town tonight.' (Prophetic song!)

"I did not need to see the delightful picture and sports story in The State on Sunday to remind me who played on the team in 1902, nor how each one looked in his grimy uniform after the game, and dear old Bob Williams, coach, whom the years do not appear to have changed. Spunky little 'Rut' McGhee had not yet attained the play that all who ever saw remember still–when the champion lightweight quarterback was thrown completely over the opposing line from the massive shoulders of the center, nor Dick Reid, "big blond giant," who called time out to explain to his coach why the famous stunt had failed in the unforgettable words, 'We th'owed him over, Coach, but they th'owed him back.' They have all been named in the recent sports pages, their photographs shown, but to me that day, they radiated a glory in their sweaty uniforms which could never be reproduced in print.

The 1902 University of South Carolina Football Team.

These photos were published Sunday, October 20, 1929 in The State.

"As the tumult and the shouting died, we sponsors mounted again in our carriages, taking with us 'Sid' Smith, one of the stars of the day, a dirty, dusty hero with a painfully injured hand. And I, with abandon, not of the perios but born of the heady cup of victory, grabbed Sid's hand and squeezed it in ecstasy–only to be reminded with a grunt of his honorable scars.

"It was my mother's custom during football season to entertain both the home and the visiting teams at a sort of breakfast-luncheon, buffet-style, at her home after important games. Military discipline perhaps preventing Clemson's presence, only the Carolina boys were there in 1902, dropping in before they changed from uniforms to mufti, to go over the game, play by play, with a coffee cup in one hand and a biscuit in the other.

"And that night! Oh, the 'hot time' that ensued! Preparatory to 'Fair week' it was the custom for merchants to decorate one store window for Clemson and one for Carolina, or to come out openly and decorate both for the same college. We were all incensed because a Clemson-supporting cigar store had as its chief feature in a window of purple and gold a great Bengal tiger (advertising, I think, Bengal cigarets), who held in his open jaws a card bearing S.C.C. (South Carolina College) in garnet and black. That the tiger should publicly chew us up was gall.

"But we retaliated. That night in the triumphant procession that advanced on Main Street, the sponsors again rode in their chariot of state, and it was my privilege to clasp the staff which bore aloft that historic illustration drawn by Horton Colcock depicting the arrogant Gamecock rampant and crowing, his claws dug into the head of the prostrate Tiger.

This is purported to be a replica of the Colcock illustration,

although it does not exactly depict what Nell Gilland describes.

"It was too much. Feelings, born of politics that rended South Carolina in almost a civil war, fostered perhaps unconsciously by home training and fanned into flame by the crowing of the Gamecock victorious at last, broke that night in what might have been recorded as a stark tragedy had it not been for the level-headedness and leadership of Christie Benet, later Carolina coach. Mounted on the coping that borders the campus on Sumter Street, he stood between the Carolina student body massed on their own ground and hastily armed with forbidden firearms, razors, hatchets, pokers, and any lethal weapon upon which they could lay their hands, and the embattled ranks of Clemson cadets with rifles and bayonets in formation on Sumter Street.

Christie Benet, the Carolina assistant coach, who reasoned with the mob in 1902, averting tragedy.

Source: Wikipedia

"Crouched breathless on our lawn, a few other girls and I waited in the shelter of the original library building. I can hear the ringing tones of that voice as Christie Benet eloquently forced reason on that mob of excited blood-thirsty students and cadets. I can hear the tramp of feet as Clemson broke ranks and walked off down dusty, unpaved Sumter Street, the stifled sobs of boys on both sides–excited to the pitch of hysteria. I can remember how the thrill of victory died in thankfulness that tragedy had been averted.

"Thank heaven for the wisdom of older heads in keeping those two institutions away from each other until six years later hot passion had cooled, and they could meet at the new fairgrounds to hold a love feast at which they buried, with appropriate ceremony, the hatchet which might have slashed throats.

"As they meet today, our children, who yielded allegiance to one or the other of South Carolina's state institutions and who gaily wave the garnet and black or proudly flaunt the purple and gold, cannot plumb the depths of intensity which racked us in 1902. Drab and middle-aged they doubtless think us, never dreaming the fire that was our youth. Born of parents still mouldering unreconstructed, still burningly loyal to the Lost Cause, we were hotter headed than these, our sophisticated offspring. They are cooler, wiser, more tolerant, less provincial and partisan than we. And our hats are off to them as they sing and cheer in well-coached unison for their chosen champions and at the end unite in acclamation and congratulation for the victor, no matter which he be.

"Carolina and Clemson! Thank God, say the survivors of 1902, that bitterness is forgotten. Now the two great elevens meet, each determined not so much to beat the other as to win for themselves. Friendly enemies!"

Clemson won the 1929 game 21-14. 

It should also be noted that the Clemson head coach in 1902 was John Heisman for whom the Heisman Trophy is named.

The Kingstree Connection to the Hit Song "Get A Job"

In February 1958, the song, "Get A Job," performed by a relatively unknown group, The Silhouettes, made it to No. 1 on the Billboard Charts. It would be the group's only hit, selling over 1 million copies and earning them a gold record. The song would later be part of the soundtracks for the movies American Graffiti, Stand by Me, Trading Places, Get A Job, Joey, and Good Morning, Viet Nam. It would also appear briefly in the television shows, Married with Children, and Hardcastle and McCormick. If you've never heard it, or haven't heard it in a while, you can listen to it here. In fact, it might be a good idea for everyone to listen because today we're not really interested in the lyrics, or in the sha na nas, from which the group Sha Na Na took its name. We are interested in that razzy saxophone solo that happens at one minute and twenty-nine seconds into this recording. And we're interested because the saxophonist, Rollee McGill, is Kingstree's connection to that hit song.

Cover of The Silhouttes album which contained the song, "Get a Job."

Born December 29, 1931, here in Kingstree, Rollee McGill got his start in music with the gospel group, the Carolina Quartet Boys. By the 1950s, he had moved to Philadelphia, where he started his own group, The Rhythm Rockers. Their first record, "There Goes That Train," released in 1955 on a small label, was picked up for national distribution by Mercury Records, and made it to No. 10 on Billboard's Rhythm and Blues Charts. You can listen to "There Goes That Train," here.

Cover of the 30-track compilation of Rollee McGill's recordings.

He moved to Los Angeles for awhile and also recorded in New York City, but none of these songs saw success. He moved back to Philadelphia, where he worked as both a solo performer and as a session musician. It was in that latter role that he found his moment of fame for his saxophone solo on the recording of "Get A Job." It should be noted that Rollee McGill did not read music. According to Richard Lewis, composer of "Get a Job," and lead singer for The Silhouettes, "Rollee just winged it."

He continued to record into the 1960s, but with no further hits, he worked as a machinist from 1964 until his death in 2000. He didn't completely give up his music, however, performing locally in Philadelphia during those years. In 1999, Bear Family Records produced a 30-track CD of his recordings.

Rolle McGill died in Philadelphia on October 11, 2000, at age 68. It seems fitting that we remember him during the week of the 21st anniversary of his death.

Famed Football Coach Hunted in Williamsburg County for at Least 15 Years

The Pop Warner program is the largest and oldest youth football, cheer, and dance program in the world. It is named for the legendary football coach, Glenn "Pop" Warner, who coached at the University of Georgia, Cornell, Pitt, Stanford, and Temple, compiling a won-loss record of 319-106-32. What many local readers don't know is that Pop Warner made an annual trip to Williamsburg County to hunt, beginning in 1914 and returning each year for at least 15 years.

 Pop Warner's image appeared on a 32-cent stamp honoring football coaches.

On December 1, 1928, Stanford defeated Army 26-0 in New York. Following that game, Coach Warner made his way to Kingstree for his annual hunting trip. Laura Hemingway caught up with him on the street in Kingstree and interviewed him for a piece she published in The News & Courier on December 8, 1928. Here are portions of that article:

"Glenn (Pop) Warner, football coach of Leland-Stanford U, whose team conquered Army last Saturday in New York was scheduled to reach Williamsburg hunting fields Monday, but surprised his friends here by suddenly appearing upon the streets this morning. He came down with Dr. R.B. Waite of Springville, NY, whose guest he is at Dr. Waite's hunting lodge at Taft, 15 miles below Kingstree... .

"Mr. Warner is, in fact, no stranger to Kingstree. He has several close friends here with whom he has spent many leisure hours. Among these are B.A. Brown, whose guest the coach has been on many occasions. Another is Dr. Jack McCullough with whom Mr. Warner shared a room while on a hunting trip in Williamsburg woods.

The famous coach has been coming to this county for 14 years. It was in this direction he turned his face following the "let down" of big games during these Falls. Feeling the need of relaxation after his mighty triumph over the Army, he has again sought the low country hunting fields of South Carolina for rest and recuperation.

"'I have been coming here fourteen years," said the coach, "and welcomed this opportunity while east to return here and renew old acquaintances.'

Pop Warner, an 1894 Cornell graduate, was considered a football innovator. 

"The visitor's expression lost every trace of fatigue as he launched into the subject of bird hunting in this part of the state. 'It is better sport here than in California,' he claims, 'because the quail found here are superior in certain ways to those of my home state. Out there we have the topknot blue quail, and they won't stand much for the dogs. The dogs add materially to the pleasure of the hunt down here in South Carolina. It is great sport, and I find I am always benefitted physically after a trip here.'

"When asked what kind of shot he claims to be, his eyes twinkled as he replied, 'Oh, I am just a dub (an awkward, unskilled person) so far as shooting is concerned, but I do not really care about that. It is the sport I enjoy, but Mr Waite is a wonderful shot.'

"Mr. Warner in years past brought his own dogs down with him, but since living such a distance from the state, he has decided it is too much bother. He has no trouble finding dogs for there are plenty of sportsmen around here who are glad to lend to the visitor, and Dr. Waite keeps a number of dogs on his preserve, also.

"'Pop' admits he came to South Carolina to hunt quail, but it is easy to see that his heart is on the gridiron. 'You might say,' he informed, 'that I am sort of familiar with the South. I did my first coaching at the University of Georgia in '95 and '96. From there I went to Cornell, and then took charge of my Indians. I have been often to Charleston while on my visits to South Carolina, and I have found it an interesting old city full of historic interest. I think it is much like New Orleans in Old World charm.

"When asked if he would accept the invitation given to by the Citadel-Clemson cadets to attend their game tomorrow, Coach Warner replied that he had not received the telegram due to his leaving New York earlier than he had expected, but he had read the telegram in the morning's paper, and he regretted very much that prior arrangements would make it impossible for him to accept. 'I certainly appreciate the invitation, though,' he added.

Pop Warner, second from left, discusses a play with team members.

Laura Hemingway then asked him about the influence college athletics had on the athletes' future careers. He noted that there was much controversy about physical training being added to the mental training of university life, but noted, "The World War proved how unfit our young men were physically, and our institutions are doing great work in helping develop them through the medium of athletics. Athletics act as a stimulus to this improvement."

He also noted that almost every student at Stanford was involved in some sort of athletic pursuit and that it was a recognized part of the curriculum to play football, baseball or basketball, noting that the varsity football team had at least 50 men in reserve drawn from students who were participating in these athletic activities.

Hemingway's article continues, "Without laying claim to any special credit for his team, he casually discussed the contention held that the long trip out to the California coast where so many of the intersectional games have been played had proved harmful to the eastern players because of the open climate. 'So when our boys hopped on the train for their long trip east, we did not know how the trip was going to affect their playing,' he said. 'We think it helped them, due probably to the relaxation they found during the trip across the states.'

Glenn "Pop" Warner

"Mr. Warner says this game with the Army was the first of a two-game arrangement, whereby the Army is to go out to California to play the Stanford team during the Christmas holidays of 1929.

"Mr. Warner will be the guest of Dr. Waite at Taft for a little over a fortnight. After that he plans to run down into Florida for a brief stay prior to going to New Orleans to attend the national convention of football coaches on December 20. He is also planning to see the game between the Georgia Tech and the University of California in Pasadena on New Year's Day.

"The far-famed coach is an athlete in appearance, and while in Kingstree was 'one of the boys' among local fans."