Darlington 1922 and straight ahead to 2022!
By Bill Shepard
I was only a few weeks old when Daddy moved with his family, a wife, me and two other little boys, 3 and 9, to the mill town of Darlington. Two girls were added to our family in the years following our arrival on the Village.
I have often said that the first sounds I can remember hearing were those from the horn blowing at the mill. The horn that sounded like a foghorn from a ship lost at sea. The horn began blowing each morning at 4:15 a.m. and was the wakeup call. It blew at 15-minute intervals until 6.
The lights all over the mill flashed at 6. Woe to the worker if he or she was not present to begin work!
The mill operated only one 12-hour shift per day. This was long before the eight-hour per day/40-hour work week began!
The noise from the long freight train that passed along the track shook our little three-room house. Both the train and mill horn rattled our windows. That was my home for the first 10 years of my life in Darlington. All three of us boys grew up and became workers at the mill.
When I was 4 or 5, I would follow along behind Mama as we made our way to the large company store which was owned by the same group that owned the mill. We walked slowly as we passed the big mill and would look upward, hoping to see if Dad might be standing at a window and looking down. Sometimes it happened and we would wave.
At the store, Mama would give her handwritten grocery order to a clerk. The groceries would be delivered the following day. Fred, the delivery man, drove a big red horse hitched to a pretty green wagon with red wheels.
I liked Fred! He would often give me the box that he brought our groceries in. I would play with the box. We made our own playthings back then – wagons, marbles, kites and balls.
When I was 6, I began school at St. John’s Grammar School uptown. I was scared. The last names of all my teachers in Grades 1-7 were: West, Shepard, Anderson, Farrell or Farrow, Fairy, Dargan and Moore. J.C. Daniel was the superintendent and Margret Dargan was a teaching principal.
When I became old enough to keep up, Daddy would let me go to town with him on Saturdays. He would hold my hand and help me to keep up. No one on the Village owned a car in those days.
Sam Anderson operated a small milk dairy near the Village. He owned a little truck. Marion Lee, a boss at the mill, owned an older model Chevrolet. Our neighbor Nolan Gainey, called Jabo, owned a T-model Ford. That was the transportation on the Village Across the Creek until after 1930. Later, Dad bought the Ford from Gainey for $18 and that was our first car. We could sing with the Jeffersons – Moving on UP, finally got a piece of the pie!
Going uptown in Darlington was an exciting trip in those days. We would leave early on a Saturday morning and enter town either by way of Orange Street, mostly because it was nearer, or by Pearl Street. It was a long walk, either way. All of Orange was dirt and unpaved until we reached a short distance from the Square. The journey along Pearl was more exciting especially for a little boy that had never seen much of the world outside the Village.
My sister Jenny would sometimes say to me, “Bill, we are a foreign mission over here,” meaning where we lived. There was no church (some tent meetings each year in the summer), no street names or house numbers, no telephones, no mail delivery, no cars, no school bus – yes, it did seem that we were in a world to ourselves.
Yes, traveling along Pearl Street could be exciting! There was so much to see. Let me just name a few things that I remember!
Leaving our little house on the Village, me holding fast to Daddy’s hand, we would cross over the bridge that spanned Swift Creek. There was always someone sitting near the bridge fishing in the little creek.
We would pass by the artesian flowing well that spewed a large flow of water day and night; the overflow made a path through the woods and ended up in the creek.
We would hurry past the well and at the top of the hill, we would choose to take a direct approach to Pearl Street. We would pass the mill – this was Saturday, and the big mill would be closed. Only the watchman would be seen. A short distance ahead we would reach Pearl Street. I recall the large Methodist church that still stands at the spot. I recall visiting that church when I was a boy.
We pass McElveen’s Grocery store and Grant’s Barber Shop. In some of my later years, I would go there, and Mr. Grant would cut my hair. The cost was 35 cents. The son of Mr. Grant still lives in Darlington. Like myself he is an old man.
I must hurry! There are so many memories crowding my mind wanting to be told. We passed several houses that were and still are lined along Pearl Street. I will name Bob Stogner’s Boarding House, also Mr. Timmons’. Both were located near where a Piggly Wiggly now stands.
When I was a boy, a Coca-Cola Bottling Company stood near this site on Pearl. Small grocery stores lined both sides of Pearl all the way to the Square; all would be busy on Saturday!
In the summertime, the sidewalks along Pearl would be lined with items to get the attention of would-be buyers. I recall items like watermelons, sugar cane, apples, oranges, etc. I would want a watermelon, but it would be too heavy for Dad to carry on his shoulders back to the Village. He would always need a small item from McClellan’s Dime Store on the Square where I would get a large sack of candy.
On the opposite corner, one Joe Medlin operated a Gulf service station. On the opposite corner, the American Legion once stood and a large church. Are they still there? I wonder!
By now, Dad and I should be nearing the Post Office where I once worked a long time ago. Names appear, wanting to be mentioned – Postmaster Frank Bynum, the assistant Bill Hursey, then Carrie Reeves, Sam Young, Erin Pervis and others, too many to name but well remembered.
Now we are nearing the Business District and the Square! Another stop or two and we were ready to head back to the Village. We would take the shorter way back home – Orange Street to the Mill and on down the hill.
I spent all my childhood years on the Village, joined the National Guard when I became 17 years old, took part in the maneuvers of 1939 and saw more of the world than I ever dreamed of seeing.
In 1942, I joined the Army, later married the girl I had met returning home from St. John’s School that day in 1938. We lived together for 75 years when she left for her eternal home! I am still on my way!
My 100th birthday is nearing. Somewhere in the files of this newspaper is the story I wrote about my 10th birthday. Wow! What a journey!
My 100 years and looking back! My proudest moments:
— Becoming a father three times – two boys and a beautiful daughter!
— Becoming a soldier in the U.S. Army – WWII (two years).
— Becoming a born-again Christian and an ordained minister and beginning my pastoral ministry in 1946 – 75 years ago.
— Completing 30 years of pastoral ministry in S.C. and Florida.
— Following my military years and becoming a Christian, returning to school, getting my GED and then graduating from Emmanuel College and Lander College with a B.S. degree and completing some graduate work at the University of South Florida and Tampa University.
— Teaching public school for 30 years in S.C. and Florida.
— Invitation to speak at the Darlington Historical Society – my hometown.
— Invitation to be the speaker for the Darlington Kiwanis Club fundraiser and hold a book signing.
— Receiving the key to the City of Darlington, my hometown, by then-Mayor Tony Watkins.
— Receiving a proclamation declaring May 22, 2014, “Bill Shepard Day” in Darlington.
— Writing a column for the newspaper in my hometown.
— Most and best of all, being married to my childhood sweetheart for 75 years – She loved me with a Godly love!
