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A free floating commentary on culture, politics, economics, and religion based on a passionate commitment to the truth and a desire graciously to refute that which is contrary to it….
"He must hold firm to the sure word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to confute those who contradict it."
--Titus 1:9, Revised Standard Version
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An old city, like anyone who has lived a bold life, will have many scars. Over its lifetime, Charleston has weathered plagues, wars, fires, storms and earthquakes — events that left the city in ruins and terrified its residents.
Some scars from these traumatic times are still visible today; others healed outwardly but remain part of the city's collective memory and are as real as the morning light.
Twenty years ago, Hurricane Hugo, a dark mass of spinning winds and vapor as big as the state itself, tore into South Carolina.
Those who went through the storm will never forget the rising waters, the freight-train wail of the winds, the Ben Sawyer Bridge tilting in the marsh, the pines snapped halfway up their trunks, the pink insulation everywhere, the convoys of people coming to help, the exhaustion at the end of a day trying to make things normal again.
Hard to believe it has been two decades. I remember a lot of things, but most of all the sound the wind made. It is a sound I never want to hear again. Read it all--KSH.
Next entry (above): Ken Burger: Reliving the reality of Hugo
Previous entry (below): Tom Friedman: Real Men Tax Gas
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