City Market: From produce to collectibles

Editor's note: This story is the fourth and last in a series on the 200th anniversary of the City Market. To read the first three installments, go to www.charleston.net and search for key words "city market"

Vegetable vendors who had been selling under a tin shed on President Street moved back to City Market in July 1939. The market, a second home to many families for generations, had been demolished by a tornado the previous fall.

The 8 a.m. twister was one of two that touched down on the peninsula simultaneously Sept. 29, 1938. It practically swept the market end to end at the busiest time of day. The three-minute storm came in over the Battery and charged its way to the market. There it killed two dozen black people, who made up most of the market vendors and customers.

Around 1944, business at the market, which no longer was being called Centre Market, reached a level worth talking about.

Sales increased significantly after South Carolina Power put a bus dispatcher's office there and made it the end of the line for several routes. In addition, it attracted businesses that included a newsstand and a meat smoker called Butcher Boy, which became the largest tenant.

But by 1950, business was so bad that many of the market's vendors had begun crying on the streets that they had vegetables for sale. Others left the business altogether. The market was on a downward slide that would lead to its becoming little more than a monument to better days.

Julius Amaker, an agricultural agent, had urged the vegetable vendors to compete by keeping their prices lower than grocery stores. He also had tried to persuade them to adopt uniform pricing. Others had suggested that vendors improve their packaging. The goal was to make shopping at the market a more attractive option to housewives to stop the erosion of business.

Some worked to improve their packaging, but there is no indication as to whether either suggestion was accepted.

Around 1955, there were 100 regular vegetable sellers at the market and they had regular customers. They sold sweet potatoes big enough to provide three or four servings and they sold soup bunches — celery, carrots, cabbage, turnips, peppers and thyme tied together with a string.

Rental rates for vegetable stands were $1 per week, about four times more than when the market opened in 1807, and enclosed stalls cost more. The former meat market building was the site of lunch counters, a beauty shop and a barber shop that served blacks and a dry goods store. Church and women's groups held rummage sales at the market.

But it had become a marginal operation for both the city and the vendors, and it would get worse.

Vendors soon were complaining that they rarely were able to sell produce at the asking prices. Yet, plenty of fruit and vegetables were left over to take home and feed to their hogs.

Apparently, the city wasn't happy either.

Late in 1966, Charleston's city council approved a proposal from Edward R. Butler, a local businessman, to convert the market into a shopping mall with a five-story department store next door. The move was opposed by Historic Charleston Foundation, which wanted to restore and rehabilitate the market.

It's unclear why the project didn't go forward.

In 1970, two Charleston women accustomed to North Carolina flea markets held in places lacking half the City Market's character looked past the broken wine bottles that littered much of its unused portion and knew they wanted to open a flea market there.

Ann McGinnis and Jewel Felkel persuaded Mayor Palmer Gaillard to let them open a Saturday flea market in the two center buildings. Vegetable vendors were still selling in the building at East Bay and Market streets on Saturdays.

Many of the people who shopped at the market went home and rummaged through their attics in search of merchandise to sell there. Some became fixtures at the market as they sold collections they had outgrown or that had outgrown them.

McGinnis and Felkel charged $2.50 table rent, $1.50 more than the city charged. They rented tables on a first-come-first-served basis. Popular items sold included dispensary bottles recovered from abandoned privies, decoupaged sand dollars and hand-painted miniature houses.

Around 1972, about 2,000 shoppers would arrive each Saturday to patronize the 80-plus vendors.

Then, things changed.

In May 1973, the city leased three of the market's open-air buildings to Lucas and Stubbs Associates, a local architectural firm. The lease allowed them to enclose the three market buildings from Meeting to Anson streets and create a boutique mall. The space included the two buildings where McGinnis and Felkel operated their flea market.

Lucas and Stubbs enclosed the building nearest Meeting Street and flea market supporters launched a "Save the Market" campaign through a group, City Market for People, to prevent them from enclosing the rest.

Charlestonians responded via televised debates and letters to editors, city council members and Mayor Gaillard. Some citizens were concerned that enclosing market buildings would destroy the architectural integrity of the historic structures. Some feared losing the flea market they credited with bringing the market back to life. Some objected to leasing the public market to a private concern. Others thought it was a great idea.

Gaillard proposed a compromise that would have allowed the flea market to continue in its space for a while. The proposal also would have allowed Lucas and Stubbs to enclose half of a second building and manage the remaining one and a half buildings under the lease, including the space used by the flea market.

City Market for People rejected the compromise.

On April 11, 1974, four years after McGinnis and Felkel opened the flea market, city officials sent an eviction notice giving them until close of business May 18 to leave. But they managed to keep their flea market operating there until June 22.

In a goodbye letter printed in newspapers, the women acknowledged having lost their flea market but said they hoped the citizens had not lost their public market.

The three market buildings that were the subject of the controversy have been managed by the Christopher Co., a local business, since 1973. The city has continued to run the building nearest East Bay Street.

Today the market is a tourist attraction on the brink of another phase as the Christopher Co.'s contract to manage it enters its final year. The Downtown Market Area Association, a business and property owners group, sees the end of the lease as an opportunity make some changes at the National Historic Landmark and has hired a market consultant to explore options.

The consultant, David K. O'Neil of Philadelphia, has advised communities across the United States and in other countries on the use of public markets. He supports the idea of markets being used to attract residents to shop for local products, boosting both the local economy and culture.

It's been about 85 years since the first organized effort to bring local people back to the market fizzled. Whether the public gets behind such an effort, and whether one can be successful, remains to be seen.

As the people of Charleston reflect on their market's 200-year past, the answers to those questions are somewhere in the future.

Reach Wevonneda Minis at 937-5705 or at wminis@postand courier.com.