OWNER PROFILE

How did you two meet?

Ali: I grew up in Bergen County, New Jersey, right outside of the city. Brian grew up in Los Angeles. I had lived in Los Angeles and was planning on moving back when I met Brian at a birthday party in New York City. We began dating when I moved back to Los Angeles. I think it was our second or third date that

we figured out that our fathers grew up a town over from each other. Brian: Right after we got engaged in 2005, my job moved me to New York City. We’ve been on the East Coast ever since and eventually settled in Greenwich, Connecticut.

What do you do?

Brian: Investment banking on the capital markets side. I’ve worked at Jefferies Group for twenty-seven years.

How did you find Palmetto Bluff? Ali: We are good friends with [one of our son] Derek’s soccer teammate’s family, the Schieles. They own a home around the corner from here in Moreland [Village]. At the beginning of the pandemic, Lisa Schiele was posting pictures of a place with blue skies and water. I asked her, Where are you where the sun is shining? She told me about Palmetto Bluff and

encouraged us to rent a place. The children were being homeschooled and the weather in Greenwich was atrocious, so we reached out to Montage about renting a place for the month of May.

Brian & Ali Wolfe

PALMETTO BLUFF CLUB MEMBERS

GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT

What were your first impressions?

Ali: When we first arrived, there was nothing open. The pools and inn were closed, and the restaurants were carryout only. But I immediately fell in love with the property and scenery. I would sit outside on the patio and read for hours. It was surreal.

When did you decide to buy?

Brian: Ali was immediately touring real estate. And I was like, The world’s coming to an end. We’re not buying! The next month we put down a deposit on this townhouse. They hadn’t started construction yet, so we could make finish changes and move walls around. We knew we didn’t want to live here all the time, so this was plug and play and no maintenance. It just felt very easy. Ali: We certainly made this townhouse our own. I worked with my decorator in Greenwich, and we drew inspiration from old homes in the Lowcountry, especially the French influences of Savannah. We

found a fantastic local artisan who added all the custom millwork.

What does your life look like when you’re here?

Brian: My son, Derek, and I play a lot of golf. We also love to charter boats and have a captain take us around. Ali: We fell in love with pickleball, and my daughter, Beatrice, and I both take tennis lessons. It’s great to have Cole’s next door with the bowling alley and the pool.

What is it about living here that you love?

Ali: I feel like I have created my own Hameau de la Reine! Waking up to the spectacular views of Spanish moss and the marsh, I feel very lucky. There’s something about the Lowcountry, something magical. It’s oftentimes indescribable. We are also so fortunate to live in a community that cares about preserving the environment. I wish every place was like this.

ANCIENT HARVEST

There is a spirit to our waterways. It speaks to us through the pluff mud, whispering its secrets from between blades of spartina grass. It is steeped in tradition, sustained through generations. It is the oyster, and it was here long before us. STORY BY BARRY KAUFMAN || PHOTOGRAPHS BY LAWSON BUILDER

Traveling the waters that snake between islands and expanses of marshland, it’s easy to get a sense of the eternal in the Lowcountry. My rational mind knows that it is safely aboard a thoroughly modern plexiglass-hulled center console fishing boat, but my imagination soars around each bend in the river. From the water, I can picture these banks playing host to Native American hunting parties. I can see the great shrimp boats, steamers, and packets that once chugged along the waves. I can smell the same salt air that once scented the Cretaceous period.

The river is as the river has always been. And the one creature that has connected all these chapters in its story is also the most overlooked. It’s the oyster, and its story is more integral to the grand saga of the Lowcountry than you might think.

A Boat Ride Through History

Sitting on the bench of a bay boat, it is a little easier to see through the veil of history. This is a select group of enthusiasts, thrown together by fate to experience the full breadth of the oystering world together.

Manning the helm is Boo Harrell, a guide for Outside Hilton Head who grew up on these waters, exploring the tides in a little jon boat. Father and son Richard Mitchell senior and junior have been working an oyster lease on Hilton Head Island’s Broad Creek since the days before a bridge connected it to the mainland. Jean Fruh, with the Outside Hilton Head Foundation, has been using cast-off shells to help maintain the eternal beauty of these waters. Lowcountry culinary icon BJ Dennis and oysterman Cyrus Buffum of Seaborn are also along for the ride. Dennis is renowned as a keeper of Gullah Geechee foodways and is responsible for bringing today’s group together. Buffum represents a new generation of oystermen in the Lowcountry who strive to keep old traditions alive.

The boat ride is like a trip back in time. Mitchell senior talks of the old days, about oystering in the dark, about mountains and mountains of oyster shells, and

The oyster has been utilized by man for nearly 4000 years in South Carolina. Shell middens and circular arrangements date back to 2000 BC and indicate that Paleo-Indians used oysters for food and shells for tools and trade. A shell pile the size of three football fields was discovered near Awendaw in the 1960s and evinces long-term occupation of the area.

LEFT: RICHARD MITCHELL JR. | ABOVE: JEAN FRUH | RIGHT: CYRUS BUFFUM

long shifts at the cannery. This is a man who knows the ebb and flow of the tides deep in his bones. Hearing these stories, and seeing the old photos, you truly gain an appreciation for the oversized role these creatures played in the evolution of the Lowcountry.

It is, in fact, thanks to oysters that we know anything at all about the Lowcountry’s Stone Age past. Paleo-Indians came here just after the glaciers receded, spending the first winters after the end of the Ice Age in the warmer climate of our shore. And we know that because of the shell rings they created, vast piles of discarded shells that outlasted the long drumbeat of their history.

Just as the oyster drew the first men here, it created a way for people to call this area home when it was still a wild tangle of barrier islands at the edge of civilization. In a later era, freed from the bonds of slavery, the native Gullah were able to subsist on the harvest they’d find along the banks of these waterways, in addition to what they could farm. With that bivalve bounty came industry, giving families a living wage in the wilds of commerce.

When Harrell pushes forward on the throttle and tells the gathered crew that we’re about to visit the most beautiful oyster beds we’ve ever seen, Mr. Mitchell just laughs. Because he remembers when healthy oyster beds stretched as far as the eye could see.

The Advent of Industry

We may be a powerhouse of tourism today, but there was a time when oysters ruled South Carolina. During the Gilded Age when oil and steel barons began building the mansions that would establish them as American royalty, the Lowcountry’s oystermen were just working the tides to feed their families. Slowly, however, an industry began to form around Charleston.

There, the oysters were packed up at shucking plants that dotted the coast, sealed up with then-revolutionary advancements in canning and refrigeration and shipped around the country. The industrialists of the era smelled money in our waters. Before long, people like the Maggioni family had found a way to turn this harvest into a legacy that remains today. At South Carolina’s peak in the early twentieth century, as many as three million bushels a year were shipped from the Lowcountry across the world.

Even in our own quiet waters, the oyster industry brought livelihoods to thousands. Canneries sprung up around Hilton Head Island and up and down the May River. Today the only remnants of that bygone era are The Old Oyster Factory restaurant on the island and the Toomer family’s operation at Bluffton Oyster Company.

The elder Richard Mitchell first learned to harvest oysters at the age of six, led out to the banks by his mother Evalina and taught the finer points of raking and harvesting. “These days all kids want is a cell phone,” he tells me. “Nobody wants to get up at one and go back at five in the morning.”

In most of its range Crassostrea virginica grows subtidally, fully submerged throughout its life cycle. In the Lowcountry, however, the Eastern oyster grows intertidally, in the zone between high and low tide. Competing for space along the muddy banks of rivers and creeks, these oysters grow in dense clusters and often have a distinct blade shape.

RICHARD MITCHELL SR.

Just as the oyster drew the first men here, it created a way for people to call this area home when it was still a wild tangle of barrier islands at the edge of civilization.

ABOVE: CYRUS BUFFUM, RICHARD MITCHELL JR., AND CHEF BJ DENNIS

As we meander along the river, Buffum produces a binder packed with printouts and maps. Stained and creased black-and-white photos show massive oyster houses and canning facilities that stood where condos and lavish beach houses now face the water.

By the time Mitchell had started working his oyster bed, the big canning plants had all gone. Pollution from the Savannah River had seen to that. When the federal government shut down all of Daufuskie Island’s oyster beds in the 1950s, the canneries soon followed. But even in the absence of industry, Mitchell still was able to coax a living out of the pluff mud, selling his bounty to Savannah.

Coming Full Circle

Today oysters may not be one of the main staples of the Lowcountry diet. They may not be the driving force behind the state’s industry. Richard Mitchell is just one of a handful of oystermen left, where before they had been a legion, supplying an industry that employed thousands. And to hear him tell it, he might be one of the last. As travel, tourism, and hospitality became the buzzwords of the region, bringing with them big-money investors from points north, oysters returned to being, at best, a cottage industry. But that doesn’t mean the oyster’s story is over. From the boat, Fruh points out spots along the river boasting the artificial oyster beds she and the Outside Foundation have planted. Each bushel, comprised of thousands of shells collected from seafood restaurants

around the Lowcountry, is acting to control erosion and help give oysters a new lease on life.

“If you look at the architecture of how they’re stacked and all those nooks and crannies, they’re really good at absorbing force,” she says, pointing to a stretch of sand along the shore. Here, two years have passed since the oyster bales were put in place, and it’s easy to see the effects. Follow the water, and you’ll see a silty slop of pluff mud transform into a healthy emergence of spartina grass just past the breaker. “Hopefully it’ll help slow the erosion and help that bank creep back.”

This spot is just one of dozens that the Outside Foundation is saving from erosion. And thankfully, the Lowcountry’s appetite for oysters keeps them well supplied. Even more fortunate, the next generation of culinary stars has demonstrated that they’re equally interested in preserving the legacy of oystering in the area as they are in turning these delicacies into epicurean masterpieces.

Buffum still harvests his oysters wild just as those before him have done for centuries. He began his career looking at the water from a scientific perspective, but his passion balances modern-day practicality with a deep reverence for oystermen who have come before him.

“I haven’t had the benefit of seventy years of knowledge, so I’ve had to try to leverage the archives, to leverage the sciences and my background,” says Buffum. “There’s a whole rich history that I only know little pieces of. The majority of it is between Mr. Mitchell’s ears.”

To that, Mr. Mitchell once again only laughs. Because he knows how much history oysters carry. Far more than what’s between his ears, far more than anyone can learn from any archive. The stories are infinite, each one a thread that binds the Lowcountry together. There are the glory days, when folks raised families on the bounty of our oysters. And there are greater days ahead, as a new generation continues on the story of the oyster.

THE ROAD To ANSON

THERE IS AN ENERGY HERE, A SORT OF VORTEX OF NATURAL SYSTEMS THAT FEELS RARE AND SINGULAR. PERHAPS IT’S THAT THIS LAND FEELS UNFATHOMABLY ANCIENT, THAT IT HOLDS THE MYSTERY OF THE LOWCOUNTRY’S EARLIEST INHABITANTS, ARRIVING HERE AFTER THE GLACIERS RECEDED WITH THE END OF THE LAST ICE AGE, CARVING THEIR WAY THROUGH THE STRATA OF THE EARTH AND TRAILING MELTED WATER THAT SNAKED ITS WAY TO THE OCEAN. IT WAS THIS GRADUAL MOVEMENT THAT SHAPED THE REGION, FORMING THE CHANNELS BY WHICH SEA WATER EBBS AND FLOWS FROM THE MAY RIVER. IT IS A MORE RECENT HISTORY, FROM LORDS PROPRIETORS TO THE ANTEBELLUM, FROM THE CIVIL WAR TO RECONSTRUCTION. THIS LAND HAS HELD GENERATIONS, CRADLED THE PAIN AND JOY OF COLONISTS AND EXPLORERS, OVERSEERS AND ENSLAVED PEOPLE, FARMERS AND FREEDMEN. AND IT IS THE NATURAL BEAUTY—THE IRIDESCENT GREENS OF THE MARSH IN SUMMER, THE ANCIENT CANOPIES OF OUR LIVE OAKS. IT IS THE SMELL OF SANDY SOIL AND THE MARITIME FOREST, THE WAXY RUSTLING OF PALMETTO FRONDS IN THE SEA BREEZE.

Story by Hailey Wist Photographs by Patrick O’Brien

This land is loved, revered even. This extraordinary amalgam of history and nature has been at the heart of Palmetto Bluff since the early stages of development. In the original vision statement, Jim Mozley and David Howerton reimagined the planned community concept, establishing neighborhood guidelines that favored deep porches and white picket fences over McMansions and double-wide driveways. They wanted to create something with the charm and romance of historic Beaufort and the storied streets of Savannah. The result was Wilson Village, Palmetto Bluff’s beloved neighborhood and beating heart of the larger community. Its streets are shady and narrow, its homes the picture of the Southern ideal.

But more importantly, Mozley and Howerton prioritized the natural environment, raising standards for water protection, enlarging setbacks, and identifying specimen trees. They set aside buildable waterfront property for parks and nature corridors and forewent individual dock permits. Their early vision is the reason the May River looks much like it did one hundred years ago, with only the gables and rooflines of homes peeking from the dense shoreline canopy.

Essential to this process was the inception of the Palmetto Bluff Conservancy. Organized by the Palmetto Bluff Company in 2003, the Conservancy has played an important role in land planning and preservation at Palmetto Bluff. The Conservancy team weighs in on roads, the lagoon systems, setback guidelines, and landscaping. They educate homeowners on sustainability and identify sentinel trees to protect in the home siting and construction process.

Twenty years later, this development foresight has evolved into a celebrated cornerstone of the Palmetto Bluff

community. From Wilson Village, the neighborhoods fan out into larger and larger parcels. Whereas the town lots of the Village might be .13 acres, the country lots can be as large as 30 acres. This variation has a naturalizing effect, and it feels like these neighborhoods have been here much longer than they actually have. The emphasis on authenticity continues to be fundamental to the land plan. When South Street Partners took over the stewardship of Palmetto Bluff in June 2021, they knew they were taking on an important legacy. “The built environment at Palmetto Bluff is one of the best, if not the best, I’ve probably ever seen anywhere in terms of execution, quality, and consistency,” says Chris Randolph at South Street Partners. “There’s a higher bar here. So we’re going to have to not only meet it, but exceed it.”

Anson Village ushers in a new era for Palmetto Bluff and an exciting opportunity for the South Street team. It’s not a project the partners are taking lightly. They have brought David Howerton and the team at Hart Howerton back to Palmetto Bluff as a key development partner. They’ve also enlisted land planner and architect Mark Permar. Permar contributed to the development of Wilson Village back in the early 2000s and has been instrumental in the planning of renowned Kiawah Island. Returning to Palmetto Bluff poses an intriguing challenge for Permar. “When you take a break from a location and then reconnect,” he says, “it’s an opportunity to see the place with fresh eyes again.”

And with fresh eyes, visionaries like Howerton and Permar see endless opportunity to innovate, work closer with nature, to yet again reimagine the planned community. Permar has seen the stark contrast between development that works with nature and development that conquers it. “Our team doesn’t think like that,” he says. “We understand that we are part of a continuum.” And this continuum began with a philosophy of responsible development cultivated since the first shovel full of dirt was turned in Palmetto Bluff’s modern era.

“Just like a person, communities have value systems,” explains Permar. “We make choices that reinforce those values.” For Permar and the South Street team, reinforcing those values means weighing every decision against what is right for the land. Even in these early stages, the team is taking a close look at existing waterways, teasing out how to work with the land in

WITH ANSON, SOUTH STREET PARTNERS WANTS TO CREATE A COMMUNITY WITH THE SAME WALKABILITY AND CLUSTERED HOUSING THAT DEFINES WILSON VILLAGE, PALMETTO BLUFF’S ORIGINAL NEIGHBORHOOD. THIS DENSER CONFIGURATION IS NESTLED WITHIN TRACTS OF INTACT NATURAL HABITAT. HART HOWERTON, A KEY PLAYER IN THE CREATION OF WILSON VILLAGE, IS PARTNERING WITH SOUTH STREET PARTNERS ON ANSON VILLAGE AND WILL BE CRUCIAL IN THE EARLY STAGES OF LAND DEVELOPMENT.

THE DESIGN REVIEW BOARD WORKS IN CONCERT WITH THE CONSERVANCY TO MAINTAIN STRICT REQUIREMENTS FOR TREE REMOVAL. THE IDEA IS TO CREATE A FILTERED VIEW, SWATHS OF MARITIME CANOPY TO SOFTEN THE BUILT ENVIRONMENT.

meaningful ways. “If you work with natural systems as opposed to fighting them, you’re more efficient, and— more importantly—responsible,” he explains. “Where would a waterway be naturally? Where are the natural low-lying areas?”

Again, the Conservancy is central to this bigpicture planning. As the development team explores the southwest end of the property, they are working closely with Conservancy director Jay Walea—identifying specimen trees, wildlife corridors, and areas of historic use. Exploring the site of the future Anson marina has been particularly exciting for Permar. “There are signs of prior settlement where the marina will be located,” he notes. “Part of the exercise over the next six months will be to reveal that.”

This deliberate, methodical approach gives the land planning team room to dream, to imagine. And as the planning moves from macro to micro, South Street Partners hopes to set even higher standards, to build on the magic of Wilson Village but also innovate and reimagine. “It’s exciting. Anson is such a unique and dynamic setting,” says Randolph. “And we get to put our fingerprints on it.” For Director of Design Stephanie Gentemann, the Anson project is an opportunity to create another iteration of Lowcountry architecture. “Each village has a unique flavor,” she says. “I hope we can create something distinctive and special with Anson.”

Planning the road to Anson, the team is not only looking backward on the continuum, but forward. “This is our evidence to the world. This is what our values are and the hope is that future generations will continue to find ways to enhance those values,” says Permar. “The choices we make now will say who we are later on.” The next era in Palmetto Bluff’s history—a history that stretches back to the days when walls of ice carved it from the earth—is just starting to be written.