The Girl On Legare Street
“At first I’d thought everybody could hear the cacophony of voices, but it was only after I realized that they were calling my name that I learned how very different I was. I was the only child in elementary school who consistently missed every field trip to historic sites due to sudden onsets of stomach pains and headaches against which my father was powerless. Even back then I knew that revealing I was different would have been social suicide, and thus a lifetime of avoidance and denial was la...unched. The fact that my mother and I shared this odd gift coupled with my father’s insistence that whatever I saw was in my imagination gave me even more reason to pretend otherwise.
I parked my car on Church Street about a block down from St. Philip’s cemetery, where my grandmother was buried. Even though I didn’t remember exactly where she’d been interred, and the yellow police tape notwithstanding, I would have known approximately where to find her as only those who were born in Charleston were allowed to be buried on the same side of the street as the church.MoreLess
I parked my car on Church Street about a block down from St. Philip’s cemetery, where my grandmother was buried. Even though I didn’t remember exactly where she’d been interred, and the yellow police tape notwithstanding, I would have known approximately where to find her as only those who were born in Charleston were allowed to be buried on the same side of the street as the church.MoreLess
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