Volume 2 Issue 11

October 6 , 2006

Lettitor
By Heather Holbrook

    Ah, autumnal equinox. A day that barely registers on the Hallmark greeting scale of popularity (maybe those cards are in the pagan holiday section: “Wishing you the most Autumnal of Equinoxes”), the ushering in of fall came in on a cool breeze these last few weeks. Arguably the BEST time of year on the islands, autumn is that all to brief period where the relentless heat has politely left, the throng of tourists has thinned, and the long-sleeved shirt makes its appearance.
      At the autumnal equinox (this year it was September 23, at 12:03am , EDT), the sun appeared to cross the celestial equator, from north to south; thus marking the beginning of autumn in our hemisphere. Although it does occur closer to September 22 in some years, which pleases me to no end because it is hours from my birthdate. I tend to take this equinox thing personally, as if the change in the atmosphere is a little gift for me to enjoy.
      As you know, the word equinox derives from the Latin words aequus (equal) and nox (night). And in the language of science, an equinox is either of two points on the celestial sphere where the ecliptic and the celestial equator intersect. For the rest of us, it's one of two times a year when the sun crosses the equator, and the day and night are of approximately equal length. The time of the year when islanders sigh collectively as they sit outside (swatting at mosquitoes) and linger over the sunset or wait for the moon to rise. No hurry to go in and finish the dinner dishes.
      There is a superstition that it is possible to stand an egg upright on its end on the date of the equinoxes (and/or solstices). While this is true, it is also possible to stand an egg on its end at any other time of the year. Although this feat is not trivial, a persistent person can usually succeed with enough practice and skill. However, the only connection between success in standing eggs upright and the equinox, to my knowledge, is that because of the superstition, many more people try and persist than would be the case on any other date. Of course, cheating by resting the egg on a thin layer of salt grains and then blowing all but a few invisible grains away is still far and away the easiest method. But you did not get that from me, okay?
      As the weeks begin their Formula-One-pace toward year’s end and all the holidays begin to interrupt each other on the way to January 1 , I plan to savor each day of this autumn season.

The Sliding Hill:
Update from the Mound on Sullivan’s Island
By Heather Holbrook

     Take some dirt, add cardboard, altitude and speed; throw in some graceless landings and a lot of laughter and you have an ageless pastime unique to Sullivan’s Island. Called a rite of passage for island kids dating back decades, sliding down the newly re-opened hillside of the Mound behind the J. Marshall Stith Park on Middle Street is the thing to do these days.
     “As I recall, it is somewhat an on again off again activity,” says Eleanor Washburn, current president of the Sullivan’s Island Park Foundation. “Before the mound was closed, there would be months that no one would be sliding and then one child would find a box and get the idea, or someone would come back from the mountains with a sled and there would be a few days of sliding again! Right now it is "new" or something that they haven't been able to do in a long time.”
      Closed off for the better part of four years, the orange fence came down the third week of September and within hours, kids big and small were climbing to the top with dismantled boxes, and sometimes bikes and boogie boards, in tow.
      Fun as it may be, however, islanders are somewhat divided on the safety of sliding down the mound. Most island parents say slide at your own risk. Consensus around the playground seems to be “take responsibility for your children and be on hand for the fun”. But older teens have been rocketing down, and tumbling off, sharp-cornered plywood pieces as well as wheeled toys. Kids as young as three years old coast down on cardboard just a few yards away.
      “Kids are riding their BIKES down the mound,” notes Hannah Dodson, mother of Tucker, 10, Moriah, 8, Kate, 5, and Sarah, 5. “That’s very dangerous and should be prohibited, in my opinion; there are trees and kids and other things at the bottom which really pose hazards.” But all four of her children have slid down many times the old-fashioned way. “And with the big kids helping the little kids, looking out for them; it’s nice to see all ages having fun doing the same thing together. She adds, “And it’s great exercise! Climbing that hill is no picnic, especially when hauling a large piece of cardboard.”
      The “sliding hill” is not an official name given by the Park Foundation or the Town Eleanor points out. When asked how she felt about the overall safety of the mound, she gave it some thought. “The fact is that it’s a hill that over the years children have found fun to slide down. As far as safety, it is actually much safer than it used to be because the area has been graded smooth. There used to be ruts, roots, ditches, prickly plants, little volunteer trees, etc. that were painful if one was to slide off his box onto to the ground. Eleanor adds that in her opinion it can become unsightly when boxes are left on the hillside. “But on the other hand, the next child could come and make use of the box.”
      Andy Benke, Sullivan’s Island Town Administrator provided still more background. “I suspect that sometime after Hurricane Hugo, the Park Foundation was organized to plan and build a passive park. Part of the solution to make the area safe was to fill the four gun emplacements (or big holes) inside Battery Capron and Butler.”

The Islands From a Different View
Kristin Hackler

"I have learned that what I have not drawn I have never really seen, and that when I start drawing an ordinary thing, I realize how extraordinary it is, sheer miracle."
                                                     ~Frederick Franck, The Zen of Seeing.

     A white van in the beach parking lot of Breach Inlet is by no means unusual or even something you would take note of in passing, but when a man and woman are perched on top of the van in lawn chairs with an array of paint brushes, rinsing pots and canvases strewn about them, people stop and ask questions.
      “We’ve had people from all over stop and ask us what we were doing on top of our van,” laughs Virginia Bond, the female member and better half of the painting team “Bi Bond Art”. During their twenty three years of marriage, Virginia and Steve have spent most of their lives together traveling across the country and around the Lowcounty, painting whatever beautiful scenes they came across. When asked if they had a preference on what they painted, Steve shook his head and said that he liked to paint near the water as much as possible. “But if I can park there, I’ll paint it.”
     Steve Bond, the founder and namesake of Bi Bond Art, had been a painter since he was old enough to grasp a crayon. During his seventeen year career as a fire fighter for the Isle of Palms, Steve displayed most of his artwork in a makeshift art gallery in the fire station. The day he retired and took up painting full time, he recalled his mother’s worried lecture about the possibility of damaging his hands. “You wouldn’t be able to paint and then what would you do?” she asked him. Steve thought about it a moment and said, “Well, then I’ll paint with my feet,” which he did, right then, on the floor with a paintbrush clamped between his toes and drew a beautiful picture of his house that his mother still has to this day.
     Besides their mobile painting business, Steve and Virginia also paint murals by request on the inside and outside of businesses and homes. “We just finished this one house out in Grover not too long ago,” Virginia recalled. “It stands out to me because we did more than one for them. In their main room we painted the silhouettes of horses emerging from the clouds and in their little boy’s room we painted a spacescape with a life size image of Neil Armstrong.”
     They’ve also painted rooms to look like the insides of castles, beachscapes and whatever else comes to the minds of their clients. And their talent doesn’t stop there. “When I met Steve, he asked me if we could trade. He wanted to learn the art of stained glass from me and I wanted to learn how to paint from him.” Virginia, daughter of the famous stained glass artist Ray Hall, had grown up learning how to make stained glass windows. “We used to travel all across the country doing originals and restorations for churches and family homes.” From 52 stained glass windows in a church in Georgia to the restoration of a Tiffany stained glass window in a Methodist church, Virginia had proven her skill in stained glass and Steve proved to be a fast learner. Only a few years after they began collaborating on their work they were asked to do a stained glass portrait of the resident of the cylindrical white house on the point at Breach Inlet. Not long after that, the Seventh Day Adventist Church in Old Town Mount Pleasant requested their help in restoring two windows and creating a memorial window to Dr. Anderson, the first charter member of their church. “We’ve done a little of everything,” she noted with a smile. The Seventh Day Adventist Church has since been transformed into a private residence and she hopes the owners will appreciate the effort they put into their house.
     “I see every stained glass window that we do and every painting as another friend. For each person that we do a work of art for, we gain a friend and that person will keep in touch with us, maybe years down the road, sometimes either to thank us again or to commission another piece of art.”
     Steve and Virginia’s art can be seen on www.yessy.com under the name Bi Bond Art. “Because there are two of us,” Virginia joked, and at www.fanartreview.com under the same artist name. Their website is currently under construction, but you can contact Virginia at 843-709-6421.