Dreaming of a mountain stream, a piano and old Bluffton friends

Where would you be right now if you had a summer holiday planned?

I am dreaming of a very cool mountain stream, with my feet and other parts of me firmly planted in it.

We are all waiting and hoping a vaccine will be developed soon for the dreaded virus. Add into the crazy mix: demonstrations, riots and irresponsible people all over the country. Will we ever be able to safely travel?

All of us are equal, and thank goodness, not the same. Our Creator thought that would be very boring.

What matters is what your inner self thinks. How you act is up to you. Now, go wash your hands.

***

When I first opened The Store on Calhoun Street in 1978, Luke Peeples lived next door. Luke loved music and played his piano — music he had composed — day and night. Luke had studied piano most of his life, in Bluffton and when he went away to college.

Luke returned to Bluffton in 1928 and found himself teaching a group of children eager to learn to play the piano. Several years passed, and Luke began helping with deeds, wills, mortgages and income tax filings. He became a notary public. Luke never left Bluffton again. He was a true local.

Every day when I opened my store, just like clockwork Luke would appear. It was as though he had waited years for me to arrive to be regaled with stories of bygone life in Bluffton. I loved it and learned a lot about everyone in town.

Tom Niver lived across the street. Hasell Heyward lived around the corner, and Paul Pinckney lived on Lawton Street. They, too, came when Luke did, and the tales they told were hilarious. They were about 80, but they’d all grown up together, so you can well imagine the fun they had.

They all told me that when they “left,” they wanted to be buried standing up like fence posts where the fence was in front of Luke’s house. Their plan was not to miss a thing happening on Calhoun Street.

The daily fun at The Store came to a halt when Mr. Tom’s wife called him home in a very loud voice. I can still hear “THOMAS!” He was supposed to be raking the yard. And then from around the corner: “HASELL!” He, too, had chores at home.

Paul Pinckney always left on his own. I guess he knew when to toddle off. Luke was always laughing at them.

We live on the cove that was a hotbed of moonshine running in the 1920s and 30s. Luke told me that on high tide nights, bootleggers rowed up the cove to sell their liquor to waiting fans.

On some moonlit nights, when the wind is still and all is quiet, you can hear Luke playing his piano on Calhoun Street.

I miss all of the old-time Blufftonians who made Bluffton a wonderful “State of Mind.”