Florence-Darlington Technical College’s summer classes to be taught online
Due to the ongoing threat of the COVID-19 pandemic, Florence-Darlington Technical College (FDTC) will hold the majority of its summer classes online. Traditional 10-week and eight-week lecture classes will be taught strictly online. Those classes will go live on the college’s D2L platform beginning May 26. Classes that were not originally taught online will evolve into an online format. Classes that feature labs will be taught using a...
4th suspect held in man’s slaying
Darlington County Sheriff Tony Chavis has announced the arrest of a fourth suspect in the armed robbery and slaying of Willie Jackson April 9 at a residence on Old Timers Court in the Oates community. Jelonta Chavon Bacote, 27, of Darlington was arrested in Sumter by Sumter County sheriff’s deputies and agents with the South Carolina Law Enforcement Division. Investigators previously arrested Tyneshia Jhane Price, 25, of Hartsville,...
Leaders and troops honored at Girl Scouts meeting
Each year, Girl Scouts troops and service units are recognized for the programming they provide for the troops in an area. Girls join a troop and a service unit is made up of the troops in an area. The Girl Scouts of Eastern South Carolina Council recognizes Best Practices in Community Action, Educational Adventures, Special Celebrations and Girl Scout Spirit. Darlington/Lamar has two troops. Each troop and the Darlington/Lamar...
Faye McKnight McGuigan
Faye McKnight McGuigan DARLINGTON – Mary Faye McKnight McGuigan, 83, passed away Saturday, April 11, 2020. A graveside service was held Saturday, April 25, at Grove Hill Cemetery, directed by Belk Funeral Home. Born Sept. 11, 1936, Faye was the daughter of the late Reice and Ethel Cassidy McKnight. She worked in the restaurant industry in Darlington and Florence for many years. Surviving are her daughters, Deborah Lynn Hutchison,...
Had Harry sat here
By Tom Poland Rain, rain and more rain. It hasn’t been a biblical 40 days and 40 nights but sure seems like it. A record sopping-wet winter has creeks running high, swift and heavy with silt. Pockmarks dapple a drift of rain-pelted sand, and more rain’s coming but that old fisherman’s chair refuses to be swept downstream. It holds wayward limbs and leaves, and for me, memories of a youth spent fishing. This creek would have suited a...
