As a native Georgian who now calls South Carolina home, I appreciated The Associated Press story in the April 5 Post and Courier detailing anti-offshore drilling actions taken by those in the Peach State.
A coastal Georgia congressman who supported drilling has changed his mind and asked the Trump administration to spare the Golden Isles.
The Georgia House of Representatives, a pretty conservative body with a large Republican majority, has adopted an anti-drilling resolution.
This is outstanding. In my opinion these two events tell us the nonpartisan, grassroots, well-informed effort to stop seismic testing and offshore oil drilling is working.
The Bureau of Ocean Energy Management is about to announce which areas will be included in the drilling plan. It is critical that we continue to make our voices heard.
It was very upsetting to read the front page of the April 8 Post and Courier.
The dolphins are not the only things facing extinction in Charleston. There has to be some kind of control over crab pots that are among other things endangering the dolphins.
At one time, this was “The Holy City” but I have watched it turn into “The Hotel, Condo and Restaurant City.”
We are getting overrun with buildings going up on every lot in Charleston and North Charleston. I know that change can be good, but not when it starts to endanger our rivers, creeks and ponds and what lives in them.
I know the mayors of these cities like new construction. I am sure the taxes are coming from construction and new buildings.
And with all the families moving here every day, taxes on new vehicles have to be good for the cities. But what is happening to the environment? Is it worth it?
Has anyone thought about what is being sacrificed for a hotel on every corner and condos and apartments on every vacant lot?
I was born and raised in this beautiful city, but it is not the same town that my mother and father were proud of.
Going downtown to shop was an exciting event for me as a child. Now, there seems to be only restaurants and chain stores with hotels in the middle.
God save the dolphins and this old city.
My thanks to the S.C. House of Representatives for voting 101 to 6 to continue efforts to sell troubled state-owned Santee Cooper by authorizing continued evaluation of the bids and negotiations of a sales contract.
Pursuing a sale is the right thing to do for ratepayers. Both Santee Cooper and electric cooperative customers are facing skyrocketing rates needed to pay back Santee Cooper’s $8 billion debt. Through the bid process, we now know that there are bidders who would pay off all the debt and deliver long-term rates that are lower than Santee Cooper’s.
I hope the state Senate will soon reaffirm its commitment to protect ratepayers through a sale. After Santee Cooper executives were grilled at a Senate committee hearing last month because they couldn’t answer questions about its finances and rate projections, surely senators see that status quo is not an option.
A sale just makes good sense.
Before WWII when I was young, people used to say of Charlestonians that they were “too poor to paint and too proud to whitewash,” and it was true.
Those multimillion-dollar houses South of Broad were dilapidated tenement houses, some of which were occupied by the daughters of fathers and brothers who died in the Civil War.
It was they who lost everything, not only to Gen. William T. Sherman’s troops, but to the looting carpetbaggers who followed during Reconstruction. It was they who erected the statues to memorialize the men who gave their lives protecting them.
But they put on their Sunday best to go to church and wore a hat and white gloves to go shopping on King Street. At that time, everyone spoke to one and another on the street with a friendly “good morning” or “good afternoon.” Later when people from “off” would arrive, they would receive the greeting with a surprised look.
Every Wednesday during the summer, King Street closed so people could escape the heat by taking a siesta or going to Folly Beach. The beach had a pier much larger than the one now, a pavilion with bathhouses for changing clothes, an amusement park with a merry-go-round, swings, a bowling alley and, later, bumper cars.
Driving on the beach was allowed, and school boys would make money rescuing the cars of people from “off” who didn’t know the tides would come in and flood their parked cars.
Those days are now gone like the receding tide. The quiet, dilapidated town I joined the Army to leave and “see the world” has been acclaimed as the No. 1 place to visit.
After I’d fought two wars, lived nine years in Europe and traveled extensively in the U.S., my wife and I decided, after reviewing all the places we had seen, Charleston was the place to live for the rest of our lives.
While reading the April 6 Post and Courier article regarding the struggle in Sierra Leone, it reminded me of a fellow Operation Christmas Child volunteer named Alex, who I had the privilege to meet and hear his story.
Alex was very young when the war broke out and, while running from his neighbor shooting at him, he slipped and dodged a bullet but lost the rest of his family and wound up in an orphanage.
A few years later he received a gift-filled shoebox from Operation Christmas Child, became a Christian and eventually moved to the U.S. where became a volunteer for the organization.
Alex returned to Rwanda to distribute shoeboxes to the orphanage where he lived. While there, he visited the neighbor who was in jail for killing his family. Alex told him that he was forgiven.
What a great lesson for us all.
Church Relations Coordinator, Operation Christmas Child