Historic Charleston, South Carolina: A Journey into my Family’s Past

KING STREET NEAR BATTERY PARK

Over the holiday season, I went on a search for information on my father’s ancestors who first landed in historical Charleston, South Carolina, and while doing this, I also fell in love with this beautiful seaside city full of charm, history and grace. My family has a long history of being involved with Charleston, but I never experienced the city as an adult and had not been back in Charleston in over 30+ years. Though the trip started as a search for a family past, it quickly became a chance to discover this unique and lovely city and explore all it has to offer.

MAP OF PENINSULA CHARLESTON

While we all have multiple grandparents and great grandparents, my family name comes from a gentleman by the name of Thomas Carey, my great-great grandfather who landed in Charleston in the late 1840s. He escaped Ireland with his three brothers and came to the New World seeking a better life; a life free of hunger, oppression and cultural prejudice at the hands of their British masters at the end of the great Irish Potato Famine. The other three brothers ended up landing in New York City and their histories and whereabouts are lost to the mists of time. For some unknown reason Thomas decided to try his luck in Charleston, and in doing so he left behind him possible starvation, grinding poverty, religious and cultural prejudice and possible genocide by a Protestant British government against their Irish Catholic subjects in the United Kingdom.

ONE OF THE MANY GRAVEYARDS LOCATED IN THE PENINSULA

Now times were not any easier for my great-great grandfather in Charleston than they were in the United Kingdom. On a social scale in Pre-Civil War Charleston, Irish Catholics were only slightly above freed African Americans and slaves. First of all they were Catholic in a Protestant city, most of the time they were not well educated, and popular assumptions seemed that the only things that they could do well was farm, drink and sing songs. Yet this is not a story of how the Irish progressed in American society, this is the story of the Carey family and how they progressed in Charleston. This journey into the past  was also not a story of who married whom and where they’re buried, this is more story of how the Carey family lived and worked in historical Charleston.

FRENCH HUGUENOT CHURCH NEXT TO THOMAS CAREY’S HOUSE

Little is known about what part of Ireland Thomas came from and what his skill set may have been. All I managed to find out is that not long after he arrived he was somehow able to purchase a three-story building at 25 Queen St. just behind the French Huguenot Church on Church St. where he opened a bar on the ground floor and his family lived on the two top floors. Along the way he also became a stereotypical Irish cop walking a beat in Charleston and later a night watchman.

25 QUEEN STREET, THOMAS CAREY’S HOME

Thomas is remarkable for two things in terms of family history. He managed to fight in all five battles that took place around Charleston during the Civil War including the attack on Fort Sumter and the battle that was made famous in the movie “Glory” starring Denzel Washington and Morgan Freeman. He also started a tradition that would last for four generations of Carey men only marrying Irish Catholic girls. Because of this my DNA according to Ancestry.com is 60% Irish even though the Carey family has been here for over four generations. My father was the first Carey male to marry someone who was not of Irish descent and outside the Catholic faith when he married my mother who was the daughter of a Presbyterian minister.

157 KING STREET, JAMES JOHN CAREY’S BUSINESS AND HOME

Thomas married a good Irish Catholic girl, and they had several children including a son by the name of James John who is my great grandfather. James John grew up in Charleston and became a very successful business owner who made his fortune installing gas lighting in people’s homes and along the streets of Charleston. He was so successful that he became an Alderman which was unusual for an Irish Catholic to accomplish in Charleston at that time. With his success he bought a building at 157 King St. which was the most prominent street in Charleston. His plumbing and pipe business was located on the first floor and his family lived above.  He and his wife Jennie Devine had three daughters and one son. The son was George Thomas Carey, my grandfather. James John passed away very young, age 36.

SIDE VIEW OF JAMES JOHN CAREY’S HOME

My grandfather was raised in Charleston and met my grandmother, Anna Sylveria Reynolds there. At some point George and Sylveria moved to Charlotte, NC, and raised five children there. In leaving Charleston, George became the last Carey male namesake to live in Charleston. His three sisters stayed in the Charleston area, and I have many cousins that live there. However when I was very young an estrangement occurred between my mother and my father’s brothers and sisters. What caused it, why it happened no one can remember, yet it was there. So when my father passed when I was in my early teens, the Carey family connections just faded into the background of my life. Now many years later I’m trying to pick up some of those threads and this trip to Charleston was part of that family journey.

REYNOLDS HOME IN CHARLESTON

Yet, the weekend was more than old addresses and digging into family history. Charleston is a beautiful historic and very walkable city filled with restaurants, bars, shops, art galleries, theaters and music venues. The center historical section of Charleston is the Peninsula which has the Ashley River on one side and the Cooper River on the other. At its widest the peninsula is 15 blocks wide and south of Mary Street, it is 20 blocks to world famous Battery Park, where the Civil War started. Contained within those blocks is a very walkable section of the city where you can reach any part in less than 30 minutes on foot and it contains history that dates back to the early 1700s. Charlestonians revel in their food, their art, their architecture, culture and history. Some of that history is very dark especially if you go to the Old Slave Mart Museum which is located in the actual old slave market, a market that was active until the end of the Civil War.

CANNON AT BATTERY PARK, CHARLESTON

I found this part of modern day Charleston, which is very tourist friendly to be diverse, culturally rich, very upscale and friendly in its southern hospitality. My partner and I snagged a very comfortable and affordable hotel room at the Hampton Inn which is part of the Hilton chain of hotels on the corner of Meeting and John Streets. The hotel also served a delicious breakfast in the morning for free. There are more expensive and luxurious hotels within the center section of Charleston, but this was perfect for us by meeting our budget and we were one block away from King Street which is the economic tourist center of the city.

CHARLESTON CITY MARKET, 4 BLOCKS LONG OF SHOPPING

And we walked a lot tracking down old family addresses, going to art galleries and finding wonderful off the beaten track restaurants and neighborhood bars. There was still so more stuff to do, and we didn’t even leave the peninsula to go to the other really enjoyable areas of Charleston. For a journey into the historical past and food that is the equal of New Orleans, I cannot recommend Charleston enough. We are looking forward to going back soon!

ONE OF THE MANY HISTORIC CHURCHES ON THE PENINSULA

Special Thanks to my second cousins Cliff Roberts and Charles Cansler, my first cousin Carey Roberts, and my sister Emilie Allen for the family information and history, and Laraine Smith for walking over 30 miles in two days as we wandered the streets of Charleston.  

copyright 2023 – CAREYON CREATIVE,LLC., Atlanta, GA.

My Drive Across America: Abilene to Atlanta

One of my grand plans before I left to drive across the country was to stop everyday to see something interesting, take a hike, or visit some place I haven’t been before – but after driving four days non-stop across the United States (of course only 300 miles a day) I was anxious to get to my final destination, Atlanta. So Days 5 and 6, I really didn’t stop, I just drove.

Abilene, Texas was a nice town. The night I arrived I wanted to get some something to eat in a nice restaurant and I found a nice place using Yelp. The bartender recommended a pub near the local college to check out, and I ended up in a few games of friendly pool with some locals who were very nice. Abilene is actually considered a very good place to visit and live – this link will tell you a lot about Abilene history and livability – https://livability.com/tx/abilene . But overall Abilene did not leave much of an impression on me. I was only there for a night and my apologies to anyone who reads this who is from Abilene but I just decided to move on down the road.

Cisco, TX Photo J.Carey

But as I was headed east on Interstate 20 I did come to an interesting little town called Cisco, TX. Cisco seems to be surrounded by a lot of trees which was different after 4 days of driving across desert and flatland. That was because of Lake Cisco, a man-made lake created in the 1920’s.

Conrad,Hilton Photo J.Carey

One of Cisco’s claims to fame is that Conrad Hilton, the founder of the Hilton Hotel chain bought and operated his first hotel in Cisco. The story goes that Hilton came to Cisco to buy a bank, but the bank cost too much, so he purchased the Mobley Hotel in 1919. The hotel is now a local museum and community center. The hotel had about 40 rooms and did a very brisk business right from the start as this occurred during the beginning of the Texas oil boom. It’s now on the National Historic Register, and right next to the community center is a little park called the Conrad Hilton Park with a small statue of him there.

Photo J.Carey

The rest of the drive that day is kind of a blur as to what happened because the entire focus of the trip was now just trying to get out of Texas and across as much of Louisiana as I could make in my 300 mile radius. I spent the night in Greenwood, Louisiana.

One last comment about Texas before I move on. What is it in Texas with the super high transition ramps to other freeways? They’re in every city no matter how small or how large, and they just keep going higher and higher and higher. Other states have them as well but Texas seems to have a real proclivity for building these structures. As I drove across the country along the southern route, Texas by far had more of them than any other place I’ve ever seen. Fort Worth has so many freeways crossing and re-crossing each other that the confusion of roads and bridges and transition roads is called the “Mixmaster.”

The Mixmaster, Fort Worth

Day 6 was just spent driving I-20 through Shreveport, Louisiana on to the Mississippi River. I crossed the river at Vicksburg, MS. This is the site of a huge battle during the Civil War between the North and the South. The North had been trying to take Vicksburg, a major port city for the Confederates on the Mississippi for months. Every time they were rebuffed by the Southern soldiers. Finally Lincoln placed a relatively unknown general in charge of the effort, U.S. Grant. Grant laid siege to the city for 45 days cutting off all food and water. The Southern command finally surrendered, and the victory turned Grant into a Northern national hero.

Entrance to Vicksburg Military Park Photo J.Carey

The Vicksburg National Military Park is here that you can drive through and see almost the entire battlefield. Even places where people currently live and own homes are included in the National Monument. It is really quite moving when you consider the sheer amount of death and destruction because the weapons of war had far outstripped the stratagems that were used to guide men into battle. Although the sheer amount of information about who was fighting at what position on the battlefield, and who did what, and who died here after a while becomes overwhelming.

Real cannon used in the war, and actively shot each day in a mock battle. Photo J.Carey

Here I have a a comment about growing up in the South. I’m of a certain age when the people of the South still talked about the War of Northern Aggression. Every little boy that I know including myself grew up pretending to be a Confederate soldier fighting against the Yankee intruders. Thank God that is all changed to a large degree. I don’t think many little boys grow up anymore wanting to pretend fight the most deadly war that the United States has ever fought which was based on slavery, and that we fought against each other. What the southern states in the late 1800’s did to hang on to some integrity after losing the Civil War was to put memorial plaques up everywhere that something happened during the Civil War. And they’re literally thousands of them in every state. Starting at Louisiana and continuing on into Mississippi and Alabama and Georgia, thousands of Civil War historical markers everywhere covering everything from houses to where people slept, to where battles were fought, to where it seems like famous people took a crap. They are everywhere.

True family story – My mother used to like to read the markers and often complained to my father when he was driving that he would not stop and let her read them. So once on a trip to Mississippi after her constant complaining, my father began to stop at every maker and read them out loud in their entirety. After 10 miles of this history lesson, my mother gave in and never complained about reading the historical makers again.

I spent the night in Meridian, Mississippi.

Waking up the next day, I headed straight toward Atlanta through Birmingham on Interstate 20. As I drove further and further east that day my anxiety over why I was taking this trip and what I hoped to accomplish in Atlanta grew. Why had I driven 2400 miles to another city to prove what? To whom and why? Plus driving for 7 straight days with huge bridges, big trucks, crazy drivers, and the endless boredom of just looking at scenery pass by made me a nervous wreck the further I drove.

Yet I could also reflect on the amazing size of our country and the constant changes in scenery and climate. I started on the Pacific Ocean through the changing scenery of California, Arizona, New Mexico to the Flat Lands of Texas. Than in East Texas things start to change with trees, and the drive just gets Greener and Greener and Greener as the humidity soars, and plants and trees start to take over everywhere. I travel back to the South often but I am always amazed at how green it is and how many trees there are.

The maze of roads around Atlanta! Map by TRIPinfo.com

I finally got to Atlanta about three in the afternoon. I had chosen to stay for the first few days near my nephew Justin and his family who live in Woodstock , GA about 27 miles outside of downtown Atlanta. I had rented an Airbnb just a couple of miles from his home. Yet, in my exhausted and anxiety ridden state, I just could not handle driving on Atlanta’s infamous I- 285 Perimeter which is like a racecourse with too much traffic and huge trucks and Atlanta’s very aggressive drivers all doing 10 miles per hours over the speed limit. So I choose to take smaller state highways around to Woodstock, but that gave me the opportunity to understand how much Atlanta and the surrounding area had grown through the years. What had been open country and small towns was now malls, housing developments and apartment/condo complexes. Rows of them in all directions.

Downtown Woodstock, GA Photo – visitingwoodstockga.com

Arriving at my AirBnb, I unpacked my car and set up my temporary quarters. While worried, I was also very excited to see what the next two months would hold for me as I began my adventure in Atlanta. Performing and seeing what opportunities either in show business or real estate existed here, and the chance to really start to understand the city that I’ve passed through so many times during my life but have never stayed for more than a week at a time. After 7 long tiring days, The Grand Adventure was about to begin.

unique car decorations, Woodstock, GA photo – J. Carey

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