By Devin Lally
Spirits do not always have to be seen in order to be
believed. I recall my first trip to this Charleston as I immerse myself in its
irresistible essence. Nestled between wholesome southern comfort and bygone
memories, lies the charming, unchanging town of
Charleston, South Carolina.
One deep breath of Dixie air invited me to surrender to the
captivating splendor of this historical city. A sugary aroma from downtown
bakeries chases the gentle salty scent sweeping towards me from the Charleston
Harbor. I sit on the porch of a local cafe and enjoy a satisfying meal of
stuffed French toast and a cool glass of sweet tea. As I peer down Calhoun
Street, I see women and men clad in Civil War-era clothing, standing on the
grand steps of historical mansions, enticing visitors to take a tour of the
past. I lean back in my creaky wicker rocking chair, take a long
gulp of tea, and recall the first time I ever traveled to Charleston, South
Carolina.
