We start our visit to Florida in historic St. Augustine

Still learning about myself. Crazy as it sounds, it’s the honest truth. This statement from a man who literally brought a bologna and cheese sandwich to work every day for 30 years. I’m pretty sure I know who I am and what I’m not. So, what’s the big revelation you ask? Well, I never imagined that I’d enjoy sitting outside the campsite, opening up the computer, and spending several hours creatively writing a blog. Who are you?!? Yet, here I sit, outside the camper, with a campfire flickering in the background. The aura is soothing, and I find the words and sentences just flowing together. Sometimes too much, but, thankfully, Judy’s a good editor, and can take my run-on sentences and add punctuation. She makes my nattering readable. 

 There’s another benefit of my evening dalliances: I get to listen to the sounds coming from the surrounding environment. And by the surrounding sounds, I mean from the immediate neighborhood around me, which can be inside the RV park or outside. I’ve sat outside so often, and at so many different RV parks, that I have started to recognize the sounds attributed to certain campgrounds. For example, our last campsite was in a 1,100-acre regional park, 1 ½ miles from the main entry road. As you may expect, it was a very quiet campsite. Because we were out on an island, separated on 3 sides by water or marsh, there was neither any outside “city noises”, nor any light pollution. At night, it was dark and quiet. In contrast, our stay in St. Augustine was out on the intercoastal, 1 block off the famous coastal Florida State Rte. A1A. This was a loud location. Ambulances, trucks, the sound of children, and music, all infiltrated our campsite. I have come to find that we encounter two basic types of camping experiences: we are in a rural park like setting, or we are in a very city like surrounding. Urban campsites usually mean we can walk to get groceries or go to a restaurant. Rural campsites have walking trails and fishing, but if you need anything from the drug store, you’re getting in a vehicle and driving at least 10 minutes. We love both types of campsites and use different strategies to make the best of our stay. And this changes from week to week. Let’s say you live in suburbia but have a friend (or cousin) who has a townhouse in NYC. Then you decided to switch houses for 30 days. Wouldn’t that be kind of exciting for a month? And when you get back to your original house after being away for 30 days, you’d get to re-engage in your previous life. And we do this every week. Just amazing! 

Our stop at a KOA in St. Augustine Beach was within a 4-mile drive from the old city of St. Augustine. We could not have been better situated for visiting this historic town. And to some extent, the weather even cooperated, allowing us to really get out and discover the area. Where should I begin..? How about starting at the “Fountain of Youth”. 

• Ponce de Leon’s Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park. An interesting attraction, not exactly what I expected. But then again, I had no idea who Juan Ponce was of Leon, Italy, so I had a lot to learn. Surprisingly, there was an actual natural spring which pushes water from the Florida aquifer. It is believed that Juan Ponce discovered the town of St. Augustine, and that this spring would have been available as fresh water for Juan Ponce’s ships. The natural spring is the oldest roadside attraction in Florida, with visitor records going back to 1868. There were cups, and indeed there was water flowing. As an experiment, Judy had some water from the “Fountain of Youth”. I did not. We’ll see how this plays out. For many years, the area was an active archaeological excavation, with many discoveries about the native Timucua Indians. There was a live fire canon demonstration, as well as a Blacksmith studio. We would have stayed longer, but the sun disappeared in the early afternoon; so, with the temperature dropping, we ended the visit early and headed back to the camper. 

• Next up, a walking tour of historic St. Augustine. The oldest continually inhabited community of European settlers in the United States. Not the oldest, but the oldest continually inhabited. Apparently, that’s an important distinction. Angie, our walking tour guide, was amazing, knowledgeable, and an outstanding storyteller. Another history lesson, but this one was from the Spanish perspective. It was a nice, mostly sunny day, as we joined another couple for a 2-hour, semi-private stroll along the water, and up to the Castillo de San Marcos, a fort which is a national park. It was a very complete history tour starting with the Timucua Indians, and ending with industrialist Henry Flagler. Flagler, founder of Standard Oil, was also a key figure in the development of the Atlantic coast of Florida, as well as the East Coast railway. He built some lovely hotels, and one of them eventually became Flagler College, which is where our tour ended. 

Castillo de San Marcos

• And it wouldn’t be a stop unless we toured a lighthouse. That would be the St. Augustine Lighthouse, which is the tallest lighthouse that we have visited, at 165’. And we climbed 219 stairs to get there. The views were wonderful, and we got some really great pictures. We were also able to see, for the first time, a first order Fresnel lens, which is the original, and stands over 6’ tall. This is the most powerful lens ever produced, and will cast a beam visible 20 miles, depending on weather conditions. Somehow, I don’t think we’re done with lighthouses. 

View from top of St. Augustine Lighthouse

The week went by quickly, and we pulled out of the campsite to travel to our next destination - Fort Pierce, FL, on Christmas day. A good day to travel, especially in the morning, as the roads were quiet. We were headed south, and as we drove, I was wondering what kind of campsite we would find ourselves in this time. Urban or rural? Not that it makes much of a difference for us, as we have learned to appreciate them both. I’d like to profess that I skillfully managed to mix the camping experiences, but I’d be lying. So, you’ll have to wait to read our next post as we tell…the Rest of the Story.

Discovering The Golden Isles of Georgia and getting it all recorded in our travel journal.

Charleston, SC was a tough act to follow. One of those places that we both agreed would be a place to return to on a future trip. Therefore, we have discussed creating a “bucket list” of places we would like to revisit. Which reminds me of the reason we got into this lifestyle. To visit places! Judy has always expressed a desire to travel. But, and how do I say this delicately, I sucked at traveling. Flying, especially as I’ve gotten older, is an anxiety-plagued undertaking for me. When the kids were young, we would take family trips, and one particular trip to Jamaica we were joined by my mother. On our return trip, I was unable to control my anxiety and became unhinged in the airport. My mother then informed me that “I was a real asshole to fly with”, and that “I should probably get some prescribed anxiety medication”. That was excellent advice, and consequently I now have “flying pills”. But that doesn’t make flying any more enjoyable. So, traveling, especially by airplane, has never really been in my wheelhouse.  And therein lies the two greatest factors that influenced our new RV’ing lifestyle.

Our stops in Georgia were in the midst of the Atlantic barrier islands known as the Golden Isles. Situated about 90 miles south of Savannah, GA, where the Mackay and Turtle Rivers empty out into the Atlantic Ocean. We stayed in the most picturesque RV park called the Blythe Island Regional Park. Our campsite was nestled into the 1,100-acre park, and we shared the park with other RV’ers, as well as a number of indigenous animals. There were deer & rabbits everywhere; and one rabbit, in particular, walked directly into our campsite to say “hello”.  We also got an up-close and personal visit from a very fat racoon. We spotted this raccoon on a couple of different nights, so we know we were definitely the visitors into this racoon’s territory. The park and island also had miles of walking and biking trails which ran along the Turtle River and gave us outstanding views of the brackish marshes abutting the inlet.  From here we could visit the Golden Isles of Simons and Jekyll Islands, with breathtaking landscapes, and 20^th century history.  And that’s exactly what we did.

Judy hiking in Blythe Island Regional Park

We spent an entire day exploring historic Jekyll Island.  The history of this island really begins after the Civil War, when the uber rich joined the newly opened Jekyll Island Club. In 1888, with an initial investment of $600.00, many of our nation’s most prominent and wealthy families, like the Rockefellers, the Vanderbilts, and the Morgans, joined the club and avoided the harsh northern winters being pampered and indulged on the island at the club enjoying the milder Georgia weather. There was golf, tennis, hunting, fishing, as well as extravagant dinners and socializing every night.  And the “cottages”  these wealthy industrialists built are amazing works of architecture, and remind us of the mansions in Newport, RI. The club’s demise began in the 30’s as the Depression started to impact the wealthy, and finally ended with America’s entry into WWII when the island was ordered evacuated. German U-Boats were of immediate concern.  After WWII, the State of Georgia basically took over Jekyll Island under the eminent domain laws, and that was the end of the club for the super-rich. We strolled through the lavish gardens and grounds, and signed up for a tour of a “cottage” that was being restored. The restoration work and the detail of research done was eye-opening.  We even got to speak with a restoration and reconstruction specialist.  If this retirement “gig” doesn’t work out for me, then I have decided I will return to college to get an advanced degree in Historic Restoration & Preservation from the College of Charleston.

In front of the San Souci Mansion on Jekyll Island

The other picturesque barrier island we visited, St. Simons, was just north of Jekyll Island, and was separated from the mainland by the Mackay River. This is a real beach community, and I’m amazed that a hurricane hasn’t swept through this area in my lifetime. Everything in this region is essentially at sea level, and another long causeway is used to access the island. Many of the historical landmarks we have visited contain and are based upon archaeological excavations.  The information gleaned from these remnants improves our understanding of history.  Such is the case of Fort Frederica, and a town built by James Oglethorpe between 1736 and 1748 to protect the southern boundary of the British colony of Georgia from Spanish raids. The British kept really good records, which were used in the excavation and recovery of hundreds of artifacts. We walked along the laid-out streets, under the tall live oak trees, and were able to re-imagine the small British colony: Here was the blacksmith’s house, and over there was the baker’s, and way down back were the barracks for garrison soldiers, and in front a large level parade ground.

Fort Frederica

And, of course, we had to visit the St. Simons’s Lighthouse.  I think that this is the 10^th lighthouse we have visited in 6 months traveling across the country, and we now know all the different “orders” (magnitude) of Fresnel lenses, which were an 1822 invention that are still in use today in every US lighthouse we have seen.  This particular lighthouse, out on the Atlantic Ocean, was a bit taller than the lighthouses we visited around the Great Lakes, as we needed to climb 129 stairs to get to the top. Ohh, and did I say it was a very windy day? Well, if I didn’t, then I should have, because the wind added a whole intimidating dimension to our walk around the catwalk at the top of the lighthouse some 104 feet up.  But the pictures were fantastic. 

St. Simons Light House

In only half a year, we have visited more than 25 different places and we have a full calendar of stops ahead of us. Travelling is what we do now; there is a rhythm, and we have learned how to embrace and enjoy the experience. One of the best decisions we made was to start recording our travels in a travel journal. Sure, you say, “Of course! That’s a no brainer.” Honestly, we stumbled into the journal quite by accident. My employer was well aware of my retirement timeline. After formally submitting my resignation, and after an 18-year career, I was honored with a retirement dinner. (As a side note, I was very fortunate to be the honoree at multiple retirement celebrations, and they were all very lovely.) It was at this dinner I was given a beautiful, thick, leather bound, travel journal (pictured below).  All blank of course, just waiting to be used. 

Travel Journal

The journal is engraved with our names, and it has become a valuable part of our travel routine. Early on our inaugural trip this summer, someplace in Ohio, Judy and I were having problems remembering all the places we had visited, and we were only three weeks into a seven-week odyssey.  How would we possibly be able to keep track of all the museums we had visited, or the tours we had taken??? Every day was an adventure, and they were over-running each other in our collective memory banks. It was like trying to remember what you had for dinner last Monday.  That’s when we realized how we would use the travel journal.  Every day that we tour, visit, explore, discover, or sightsee, we record the event in our journal as well as some of the highlights. Judy, using her best teacher handwriting, dutifully records each day’s entry. We have also gotten into the habit of holding onto the brochures, business cards, entry tickets, or maps associated with the visits. In short order, the travel journal has become quite full of memories and is a book we refer to often.  Just a routine that developed organically which will absolutely be invaluable as we tell… the Rest of the Story.

These Bostonians found Charleston, SC a fantastic walking city rich with history.

Did I say this is a four-month journey?  Actually, we’re kinda gone for 18 weeks.  That’s a long time, and there are two good reasons for such a long duration.  First, it’s all about Neil the Northpoint. Well, he’s a sensitive, warm weather kind of guy.  Doesn’t do well in the cold, so we’re reluctant to return to Massachusetts much before April 1.  A second, and more important, reason is that all stops on the trip are for at least 7 days (mostly, as there are a couple of small exceptions). The quick turnaround stays of 4 or 5 days remind us of our earlier life when we used to vacation.  In time, we have figured out that there’s a distinction between “vacation travel” and “retirement travel”.  Vacation travel, for us, usually involved a hectic week of seeing or doing as much as possible before having to return to work.  Always trying to squeeze the most enjoyment out of vacation time because the time was so limited.  Nay, nay, not anymore!  Time is no longer my enemy (actually, the weather is now my enemy, but that’s a topic for a different time).  We’re not on vacation, there’s time to see what we want. 

Judy has grown into a second career of being our travel guide extraordinaire.  Easily two weeks before visiting a campsite Judy is hard at work organizing our explorations. Furiously writing notes in a spiral bound notebook, she combs through internet search engine results and travel articles.  Investigating area museums, getting restaurant suggestions, mining local announcements for festivals and fairs are just some of the places Judy may look for adventure.  But Judy will dig deeper checking local venues for shows or performances and is never too shy to ask for suggestions from the people we meet along our travels, transcribing notes into her phone for review later. In the end we have a list of tours, excursions, or sightseeing adventures to choose from and, after a review of the weather forecast, decisions are made on what to book, visit, or explore.  It’s really quite scientific.  LOL.

And, at no time was this more evident on our eight-day stop in Charleston, SC.  We were actually staying in a town on an island immediately north of Charleston called Mount Pleasant. Only a 13-mile drive down Rte. 17 and up over the 1,500-foot-long cable-stayed Ravenel Bridge which spans the Cooper River.  From the perspective of the bridge, downtown Charleston looked kind of small.  Measuring basically 2 miles by 1 mile, and without a single skyscraper type building. Apparently, the soft land made of mostly sand and clay is incompatible with supporting tall buildings.  Ohh, and I am also to understand they have as many as 10-15 small earthquakes a year. Great land for making bricks, but not so good for tall masonry buildings. But I digress. The point is, we were very close to Charleston, and made many full day trips into town.

• We started our visit by taking a ferry boat ride out into Charleston Harbor to visit Fort Sumter, which is on a manmade island, ½ a mile off the mud flat shores of James Island.  It was originally made on an island reinforced with stone from the north, after the war of 1812, when the new American government was trying to bolster the shore defenses. Ironically, this fort was intricately involved in the history of the Civil War as both the starting and near ending point.  There is so much Civil War history tied up in the fort, so do yourselves a little reading if you are interested.

• Charleston is a very walkable small city of less than a million people.  And walk we did.  We caught a 2-hour walking tour of historic Charleston, followed by a little exploring ourselves.  Then came back a day later to take a food tour of the same city and re-visit some museums we were not able to look through on the previous day’s visit.  Food included She-crab Soup at Charleston Crab House which was outstanding. Then we then had “boil plate” at Locco Seafood, which we both thought was OK. Our third stop served pulled pork sliders and collard greens.  Loved the pulled pork, never had collard greens, so we tried them.  We can now say we’ve had collard greens. To me, they were not that tasty and kind of mushy. Our last stop was dessert, a cannoli cake from Carmella’s Café.  The cannoli cake was delicious, especially when served along with a piping hot cup of coffee. We were quite full after, so we lingered in the café, carrying on a conversation with a lovely couple from Colorado, Marilyn and Doug.  News Flash!  When you walk around for a couple hours with other couples and “share a meal” so to speak, you’re sure to spend additional time engaging in all manners of pleasant conversation.  We then invited our fast acquaintances to join us on our additional walking explorations of Charleston.

Judy & Steven enjoying Shecrab Soup

• How about a visit to America’s only Tea Garden where tea is actually grown and harvested.  Yes, that’s right, the only place in the US where tea is made is called the Charleston Tea Gardens located on Wadmalaw Island, SC. The garden is quite large, at 127 acres, and grows tea plants that are descendants of the original plants brought in from England in the 1700s. The actual tea plants have a fascinating history, beginning with Dr. Charles Shepard’s “Pinehurst Tea Plantation” prior to the Civil War.  This plantation, and the tea plants on it, were deserted after the war when the plantation economy collapsed. Then, in 1963, Shepard’s original tea plants were transplanted from Pinehurst Plantation to a converted potato farm, which eventually became the Charleston Tea Garden. For the next 24 years, research was conducted on the experimental farm. In 1987, a forward-thinking entrepreneur named Bill Hall purchased the land.  Bill, a third-generation tea taster who received his formal training during a four-year tea apprenticeship in London, England, converted the research and development farm to a commercial operation. 

Tea Gardens

• Being situated on Mount Pleasant, we were within 2 miles of a fairly large plantation museum called Boone Hall.  One of the oldest continuously working farms in the country, this 735-acre former plantation was beautiful, and a realistic representation of what a plantation looked like in the Antebellum period. The gardens and the avenue of live oaks were magnificent. This is a very popular marriage venue, and we can understand why. The Plantation has had a storied history after the Civil War, and there is a very authentic and honest portrayal of the hard lives of the West African slaves.   There is no attempt by the current farm owners to sugar-coat the horrible conditions that hundreds of slaves endured whilst living on the plantation and picking Sea Island Cotton.  There is also a very uplifting presentation of the Gulla Geechee people, who are the descendants of West and Central Africans who were enslaved and brought to the lower Atlantic states of NC, SC, GA, and Northern FL to work on the coastal rice, Sea Island cotton and indigo plantations.

Boone Plantation Ave of Live Oaks

Planning to make Charleston our first stop on this journey across the south was a fortunate case of plain old dumb luck.  There was so much to do and see, and, let me also say that good ole Mother Nature also cooperated and, although it was not as warm as we may have wanted, it was sunny and rainless for most of our stay.  We Bostonians were very impressed with Charleston, and often found ourselves comparing Charleston to Boston.  Both cities have rich histories.  Both cities are on the small side.  Both cities have always had active ports, and vibrant commerce.  But before we could start checking real estate prices in the search for that perfect two-bedroom condo in historic downtown Charleston, it was time to start packing up the camper for our trip further down the coast and across the state line into Georgia.   Neither of us has ever been to Georgia before, and we’re headed to the Golden Isles region.  St. Simons Island, Sea Island, Little St. Simons Island, and Jekyll Island are barrier islands which lie along Georgia's Atlantic coast south of Savannah.  And we’re headed there as we tell…the Rest of the Story.

The amazing people we meet along the way.

We’re back on the road again, beginning our travels in South Carolina as we start our winter exploration of the southeastern US.  But before I delve into our current odyssey, maybe I should provide a quick review of how we got where we are now.  Many months ago, back in late August of this year, Judy and I started making plans for this trip we dubbed “Flying South for the Winter”.  One complication to our plans was the winter weather in New England in November, and our desire to host Thanksgiving in Massachusetts. There would need to be extensive preparations made to Neil the Northpoint in order to survive multiple days and nights of below freezing weather. So instead, we left Massachusetts just before Halloween, and after a quick 9-day road trip, Neil was nestled comfortably in much warmer Fort Mill, South Carolina.  We took a flight back home and spent the next 3 weeks or so entertaining ourselves in Massachusetts and spending Thanksgiving with the family.  The week after Thanksgiving we were on the move again, flying south to rejoin Neil. He was in great shape, although covered in leaves. We stayed in Fort Mill, SC another couple of days and then moved on to Charleston, SC, which is situated just 200 or so miles southeast, of Fort Mill, an easy drive. Please read next week’s blog post for highlights of our 8 -day visit to Charleston, SC, as we tell…the Rest of the Story. 

This blog post is not specifically about our travels and excursions.  Rather, as the title suggests, this blog post is dedicated to the warm and wonderful people we meet on our travels.  When telling others of our experiences traveling from place to place, two familiar questions often emerge: Do you meet a lot of people? And are you concerned about visiting some places?  Totally understandable in today’s politically charged climate. People are concerned that Judy and I could be exposed to risks as out of town visitors.  Honestly, nothing could be further from the truth.  Although we’re still very much RV’ing “newbies”, we have met the nicest people, everywhere!  And never, not once, have we felt unsafe in a campground, nor have we even felt the need to lock the camper door before going to bed for the evening. 

Did I say, The nicest people everywhere?!?  So, in the interest of full disclosure, I must confess that I believe that I’m a bit chatty (some of you may also be considering the terms talkative, verbose, or even the dreaded bombastic).  The additional time created by being retired has probably enhanced this trait.   And yes, I’ll also admit that I’m not a “wallflower” and can be pretty social, sometimes to Judy’s chagrin.  Starting up a conversation and meeting people can be as easy as saying “hello, where are you from?”  Just that simple.  Here’s a small sample from this past week, and I’ll start with the lovely couple we met just today, at the Charleston Tea Plantation, and work my way backwards in time. 

• The Mennonite couple we met at the Charleston Tea Plantation, in the gift shop, after walking together on the self-guided tour of the tea making facility, were the sweetest pair of people you could ever meet.  Now, to be honest, I’m only guessing that they were Mennonite based on the clothes that they were wearing.  The woman was positively petite in stature as she was scarcely as big as Judy.  And she actually started up the conversation with me!  With just a brief conversation as we waited to get on a tour trolly, we knew that they were catfish farmers from the southern Mississippi delta.  The gentleman was just a small producer among thousands of catfish farms.  After a bit more time, we were talking about catfish recipes. Then the pair of us boarded the trolley for a tour of the tea plantation.  To my amazement before parting ways, the woman went so far as to look up a restaurant near Vicksburg, MS for us to go to, along with a recommendation for a catfish dish.

• Dave.  Dave is the nice, retired man living in the RV directly behind my camper.  He is from Minnesota but spends the winters down here in the Carolinas.  He doesn’t like the cold weather anymore and has been staying in this campground every winter for the last 5 or 6 years.  He also provided a restaurant recommendation, a place called Poe’s Tavern on Sullivan’s Island, SC.   We’re going there before we leave here.

Our RV camp neighbor, Dave.

• Yesterday we took a food tour in Charleston.  There were only 6 people on the tour, three couples.  We naturally fell into a conversation with Marilyn and Doug.  They are from Colorado and look to be just a bit older than Judy and me. Marilyn is a veterinarian and went to Colorado State College for Veterinary Medicine.  A place our son Josh really wants to go to for his Veterinary degree.  After the food tour we invited them along as we continued our self-guided walking tour of historic downtown Charleston.  Together we visited the old Exchange Building Museum and Dungeon before bidding farewell as time was expiring on the meter where the Beast was parked.  But not before exchanging contact information so that it would be possible to meet up again in the future.

• Earlier in the week we took a walking tour of historic Charleston.  We often like to take a walking tour of a city when we first arrive.  During this tour the guide pointed out a coffee and lunch location called Harkins on Queen Street.  So, as soon as the tour ended, Judy and I decide to wander back to said restaurant.  And so did three women who were on the same historic Charleston walking tour with us.  Like us, these ladies were also paying attention to the tour guide’s recommendation. Anyway, we sat with these three nice ladies, all from Tampa, FL.  They were traveling together, as they are sometimes known to do, whilst leaving their husbands at home.  They had been on several trips together, so we obviously compared traveling itineraries.

• Phil the Umpire.  The night before we left Fort Mill, SC we decided to clean up the camper and then walk down the end of the street to sample a “townie” restaurant called John’s Place.  It is a bit of a dive bar, with the pool table getting a lot of action, and college football games on all 10 TV screens.  OK, so this would be a very boring story to read through without the surprise appearance of PHIL.  Yep, you heard me.  Out of the blue some man approaches the table, pulls up a chair, and starts talking to us. Just a brief introduction, and he then starts rambling on about his life in Fort Mill.  And he keeps talking on and on, all the while telling us he is on his way out.  I find this man slightly odd but kind of entertaining. Rather harmless and maybe a bit lonely.  Inside of 3 minutes we know he is a retired oil salesman, and that he’s been married for a long time, but his wife is currently out of town. Judy finds this man a bit creepy.  I imagine he is in his mid to late 60’s. We found out very quickly that when Phil retired, he decided to enroll in umpire school and is now a licensed and certified softball umpire getting paid to umpire league games in SC.  You could tell how much he loved umpiring by the way he talked about it. Eventually, when Phil takes a moment to inhale, he gets around to asking us for our names, and since we’ve now been sitting together for the better part of 10 minutes, Judy decides to introduce herself as Mary! Mary! Who’s Mary?  I give Judy a strange look and of course introduce myself as Steven.  You know, like my name. Steven. Judy obviously thought that this man, Phil, was a bit unusual, and therefore felt it was unwise to provide our actual first names.  I was not aware of this small detail and provided my actual first name. Mind you, at no time were our surnames provided, and shortly after Judy introduced herself as Mary, Phil was bidding us goodbye. It was also our time to head back to the camper and as we exited the bar into the parking lot, Phil drove by us and pointed out the license plate on his car: UMPIRE.  What a great license plate for Phil the umpire from Fort Mill SC.  So says “Mary”!

Here's what we didn’t know when we started RV’ing:  Meeting the people would absolutely be a highlight of our travels. Seeing the sights, eating the food, walking the trails and parks are all great; it’s all what you would expect.  But the people we meet, everywhere, add richness and color to our adventures.  Wonderful, funny, interesting, and even outgoing people impart a piece of themselves to us, and hopefully we leave a piece of ourselves with them. In some cases, like Phil the Umpire from Fort Mill, they are indelibly linked in our memories of a specific place and time.