The above sign is posted beside our kitchen door. Funny thing, a few visitors have asked about it recently. I tend to forget that folks come to my door and read the sign that hangs alongside. It has been there about two years now. There is great history in the sign.
When I was a little girl, Lake Murray was often just a weekend and/or summer retreat for most people who did not actually live in the local areas prior to the lake's formation. The lake is very large and the 'building' of it was quite an accomplishment. Many families moved to other areas as their land was cleared for future water. It would be amazing to be able to fully look back at the before, the during, and the now after. Many million dollar mansions now occupy the exact spaces that modest 'weekend' cabins once stood. There are those that still stand and date way back when, but for the most part, old has been torn down over the years, and luxury, high end homes have replaced the original ones I vividly recall in my memory. Some things still exist I am glad to report amidst the mental decline.
G Richard Shafto, a wonderful man who shaped much of my childhood memories, had a lake home below my parent's home. Jake Meetze Road, the physical address of the Falls family, is virtually surrounded by Lake Murray. The area where hwy 76 turns onto Wessinger Road, Chapin has always been referred to as HILTON. If you travel past our home, (and the home of my parents very close by........a stone's throw if you have a great arm) you must come back unless you depart to a different location through floating passage. It is amazing the number of homes that now occupy the acreage that was basically pine wooded everywhere, as little as thirty or so years ago. I can accurately recall that Jake Meetze (Metts) for those of you who call it Meet-zee Road, was hard topped the summer of 1964............I know this because in late June, that same year, my baby brother was born and joined our household. A phone call to the next door neighbor (could not even begin to see it next door) prompted my older sister and I to come running home when my parents returned with him. I remember still the dark, very hot, sticky asphalt as I ran (it felt like the speed of lightening) the distance to behold for the first time, my baby brother Lee. Funny, I do not at all recall him............but I vividly recall the 'pavement'.........funny thing isn't it? Years and years later I can also vividly recall that often our summer entertainment was popping huge, swelling tar bubbles with our toenails under the hot, relentless sun. I think it took a consecutive 365 days to wear off the tar plastered upon our bare feet. Oh how much fun Lee and I had, trying to out do the other in finding and defeating the largest of boiling tar bubbles............that explains my size 5.5 foot............not sure how Lee's grew so much longer! Obviously, I suffered more severely than he did..........could not let my baby brother out do me, could I?
Mr Shafto was basically the founder of WIS radio and WIS television......channel 10 in the old broadcast days. He and Mrs Shafto, Treva, often spent weekends and longer spells at their beautiful lake home. My father became a valued friend of Mr and Mrs Shafto. Daddy helped keep up their yard and also was considered by many to be the best fishing guide on Lake Murray. Mr Shafto often depended upon my father to guide him to the best black bass in the state. He would bring up other business men, lawyers, doctors, educators to enjoy a day or more on the lake under the careful and skillful guidance of my dad. Governor James F Byrnes loved to fish under my dad's supervision. Mrs Shafto would almost always stop by our house and include Lee and I in 'errands' out to the Hilton stores.........Slices and Haltiwangers. She would take us to one and then faithfully the next trip, take us to the other store for 'treats'........jigsaw puzzles, crayons, coloring books, perhaps a little candy here and there. I will always smile at the memory of a miniscule "Stuart Little" scooting across the crowded, piled on top of everything else, store floor under our feet and Lee exclaiming........"I want one of those!" Mrs Shafto made honest attempts to teach me to swim off the dock but I never mastered it........to this date, I still wonder if I can float. I look out at my bird feeders and constantly argue with the squirrels that refuse to earn their sustenance honestly and I recall she despised them also, calling them rats with fancy tails. Mr Shafto loved photography, and many of our photos from the 1960's were taken and developed by him. Because their home was relatively 'isolated' back then, Mr Shafto depended upon my dad to supervise the security of the dwelling and land. He was so inventive that he ran some kind of alert through the phone line (remember party lines?) to our house and if someone 'broke in' an alarm would go off in our hallway outside my parent's bedroom. Daddy would grab his shotgun and off in his truck he would go. Sometimes my two older brothers went with him as backup. The sign pictured above was posted in numerous spots throughout the lake's point in and around the Shafto residence. Mr Shafto had them made and I suppose in many ways the signs 'thwarted' some attempts from others to make themselves welcome at the time. Over the years as I have driven by car, no longer by bicycle nor stunted foot, to reminisce my childhood years, I have noticed many of the signs from then, bare of words and weather worn. I shared with Fred the story of the signs and one day, soon after my parents made the decision to move to the Lowman Home, assistive living facility, I began to ache to 'own' one of the remaining warning signs.........I contacted a retired doctor who still owned one of the original farm houses where the signs were posted. He has a couple still on his property and I asked him if I might be able to take one. To my delight, a few weeks later, the sign at my door was left at my parents front porch. The doctor had decided and taken upon himself to give me the sign that was the best preserved and hanging upon his farmhouse side. Fred did not have to climb the tall tree for the beaten up one; the doctor had gifted me greatly with a physical memory. I immediately, after basking in the surprise of it all, placed a nail at my kitchen door and hung the sign that is not that much younger than I am, and likely aged more gracefully with a wonderful history to tell. It is the sign pictured above. I forget that other people must wonder what the heck the sign means. No hunting, fishing or picnicking?.........A couple of weeks ago when Clay's new love seat was delivered, the younger delivery man asked me......."do you have trouble with people picnicking?"...........it took me a moment to realize he had read the 'sign'..........and then the explanation. Oh let me tell you..........my daddy was the Hilton Protective Association a long time ago.............
The second photo shows a wreath that used to hang on my door until the neighbor's cat realized birds liked to nest in the bottom curvature. It was relocated to the motion light early last year out of harms way. This is already the third brood of baby finches this year........they simply keep building new nests on top of the 'poop' filled older nests. So I guess they eventually decided they were not hunting, fishing or picnicking; or just maybe, they already knew the rest of the story.
Love and hugs, you are always welcomed at our kitchen door! Annette 5-14-2008
