Darlington, the way it was
By Bill Shepard
Darlington the way it was when I was a boy and still is in the mind of an old man. Everyone knows by now that I grew up on the old mill village in Darlington. I might have been born there had the stork not been early. Perhaps the first sound that I can remember hearing was that of the mill whistle calling its workers to their place at the mill. The whistle sounded more like a foghorn coming from a ship at sea than a whistle. It was so loud it rattled the windowpanes in the little three-room house where I lived. At its first blast, my dad would rise and get ready to begin his long workday at the mill. His hours were from six to six with a lunch break at noon. Long after dad had left for work, I would lie in bed and think that someday when I was old enough, I would follow in his footsteps. That was my expectation for life; I gave no thought to any other. That would change but the change was years away.
Bill Shepard
All roads led from the village to the town square; the villagers called it “uptown.” There were Pearl Street, Orange, and the back way. Pearl was and is the main entrance into town and the only road that was paved. Orange was a dirt road until it reached the edge of town and the back way was a winding dirt road that wiggled its way through the countryside, used mostly by mule drawn wagons and foot travelers. That was the way most village children used to reach the large brick school house that stood at the edge of “uptown.” I traveled that winding road all the years of my school days.
The town square was the center of life in Darlington. That life was sustained by the money generated at the big mill and by the rich farm lands that paid off during the harvest season. Tobacco and cotton were the main money crops.
The town square came alive on Saturday and especially so during the harvest season that usually began in July and August each year. The tobacco warehouses, located at the edge of “uptown” came alive with buyers from the large tobacco companies. The sound of the auctioneers filled the warehouses as they bid for the golden leaves of tobacco. I would sometimes be there, selling boiled peanuts at five cents a bag. I would find myself trying to imitate the auctioneer as I called out – “Peanuts, Peanuts, get em while they’re hot!” Of course, they weren’t hot but I never had a problem setting rid of all that I had.
The town square, with all its stores surrounding the courthouse, remains unchanged. The old buildings that have stood for more than a century, except for a facelift, remain as they were when I was a boy. Names over them have changed and disappeared with time but in my own mind I can see them as they were when I was a boy. Often at night, when sleep won’t come, I go back to the town square and test my memory by reading the names over each of the stores. They are all there except the Liberty Building that housed my favorite place in the square. A Saturday afternoon spent at the theater was something to look forward to when I was a boy. Ah, the memories I have of the hours spent at that spot and of the people I would see there. The theater is not there and the people are missing also but the memories remain.
The farmers no longer gather on the square as they did when I was a boy and the stores no longer are filled with buyers doing their weekly buying. The aroma from roasting p-nuts, and the sweet smell of candy cooking at Metropolis, is also missing but memories of it all are alive as I write. I bet I have stirred a few memories in the minds of my readers who have memories of Darlington as it was and still is. Join me “uptown” next time!
Mr. Shepard is a native of Darlington, S.C., and a current resident of Piedmont, S.C. He is the author of “Mill Town Boy” and “Bruised”. He has been sharing his tales of growing up in Darlington for decades, and we are delighted to share them each week. His mailing address for cards and letters is: Bill Shepard 324 Sunny Lane, Piedmont, S.C., 29673.