RHR
ISSUE 8 | WINTER, '18
ock
ill
eader
Happy Birthday, Rock Hill Reader! In hono o the RHR tu nin a yea old, e ill e sha in ALL o ou p e iously ith pu lished a ti les in ou lo , sta tin this issue, to make it easie to sha e ou o k. So, i you see an a ti le you like, sha e it on so ial media to help etÂ
the o d out a out ou ma azine! Be su e to omment o i e us the thum s e a e doin . up to let us kno ho A te many ups and do n, as ell as han es, the RHR is e innin to de elop a uni ue oi e and e annot 9 ith ou eade s! ait to sha e
How Thanksgiving Came to the South A one Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale rallied relentlessly to get the public on board and exult Thanksgiving Day to a national holiday via her editorial position in the Godey's Lady's Book. It wasn’t until the midst of the Civil War that, after many attempts, Thanksgiving became a national holiday in the North and the South. Few of the Southern States had then adopted the custom, thus Hale attempted to bring together all countrymen in celebration. Everything that contributes to bind us in one vast empire together, to quicken the sympathy that makes us feel from the icy North to the sunny South that we are one family, each a member of a great and free Nation, not merely the unit of a remote locality, is worthy of being cherished. -Sarah Joshepha Hale, Godey’s Lady’s Book, 1860
The first recorded Thanksgiving observance was held on June 29, 1671 at Charlestown, Massachusetts by proclamation of the town's governing council. The problem for Hale was that only some states since then, mostly those in New England, celebrated the day in various forms and on various days. Since the 1700s individual colonies observed days of thanksgiving during the year. The 18th century brought periodically designated days of thanksgiving honoring a military victory, an adoption of a state constitution, or an exceptionally bountiful crop. One such Thanksgiving Day celebration was held in December of 1777 by the colonies nationwide, commemorating the surrender of British General Burgoyne at Saratoga. Yet, Hale wanted to bring Thanksgiving, not only to the South, but to the entire nation and continued her charge even throughout the War
Between the States. Prior to her campaign, there was only a proclamation signed by George Washington appeared in the Massachusetts Centinel of October 14, 1789 setting aside Thursday, November 26 as "A Day of Publick Thanksgiving and Prayer." Still, that wasn’t enough. Especially since she was hoping to bring her idealist New Hampshire Protestantism view to a predominantly Baptist and Presbyterian South in the hopes to join the two halves of one country. Hale’s hard work was slow to catch on in the South since Thanksgiving was seen as a Yankee abolitionist holiday . However, in 1847 for Governors Albert G. Brown of Mississippi and Thomas Drew of Arkansas to declare their states' first ever Thanksgiving Days. Similarly, Texas Governor P. Hansborough Bell took the plunge in 1850.
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Soon thereafter, most Southern governors had join the Thanksgiving ranks including Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, and North and South Carolina in 1858. In her letter to President Abraham Lincoln, Hale explained the increasing interest to have Thanksgiving on the same day each year. The following letter went on to change history: You may have observed that for some years past, there has been an increasing interest felt in our land to have the Thanksgiving held on the same day in all the states; it now needs national recognition and authoritative fixation, only, to become permanently, an American custom and institution.
Would it not be fitting and patriotic … to appeal to the Governors of all the States, inviting and commending these to unite in issuing proclamations for the last Thursday in November as the Day of Thanksgiving for the people of each State? Thus the great Union Festival of America would be established. -Sarah Josepha Hale, 1863 For 17 years the authoress of Mary Had a Little Lamb submitted formal statements on behalf of the holiday, stating her argument time and again to at least four Presidents--Zachary Taylor, Millard Filmore, Franklin Pierce, James Buchanan before her appeal was finally addressed by Abraham Lincoln with a letter dated
October 3, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln issued a proclamation that declared the last Thursday of November next as a Day of Thanksgiving and Praise. His decree recognizing the historic tradition prompted many interesting events thereafter: The Hartford Courant from 1865 contains a story of a pardoned turkey that was meant to be part of that year’s Thanksgiving feast who ended up becoming a fixture on the White House lawn instead. Lincoln’s son, Tad, insisted that, when a live turkey was sent to the White House for Thanksgiving he protested by proclaiming that the turkey had as good a right to live as any body, and the pampered gobbler remained in the President’s grounds.
A poem entitled The Soldiers’ Thanksgiving , was also sent to Lincoln from Mrs. Lydia Baxter. Of course, since the days of Hale and Lincoln, the Thursdays on which Thanksgiving was celebrated has changed. First, the Raleigh-born President Andrew Johnson moved the day to the first Thursday in December in 1865. Then, in 1869, President Ulysses S. Grant chose the third Thursday for Thanksgiving Day. In all other years, until 1939, Thanksgiving was celebrated as Lincoln had designated, the last Thursday in November. Then, in 1939, responding to pressure from the National Retail Dry Goods Association to extend the Christmas shopping season, President Franklin D. Roosevelt moved the holiday back a week, to the next-to-last Thursday of the month.
In 1890, the Charlotte News observed that, "With each succeeding year, the observance of this day has grown more general until now it is second, as a holiday, only to Christmas....The Thanksgiving dinner, around which the happy household gathers with perhaps a few particular friends as guests, has become typical of the day."
Grave of Sarah Josepha Hale in Laurel Hill Cemetery. Philadelphia. PA
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The Poinsettia, a South Carolina Christmas Tradition
Poinsett, born in Charleston, South Carolina, was the first United States ambassador to Mexico and 1825. His presence helped established trade relations with Argentina and Chile, and during a time of unrest, encourage Chileans to create a national constitution. In 1812, Poinsett held the first
No flower says Christmas like the beautiful
meeting at his residence. He was very
poinsettia. The shape of the Poinsettia can
involved in politics, and held many
be interpreted as the Star of Bethlehem,
government positions including Andrew
which led the three wise men to Jesus. The
Jackson's confidential agent, keeping the
red leaves symbol Christ's blood, while the
president informed during the Nullification
white ones represent his purity. The plant's
Crisis. He was also Secretary of War, had a
name, however, comes from a South
seat in the State House of Representatives,
Carolina native named Joel Roberts
and served on the Board of Public Works.
Poinsett. He valued the Arts and Sciences and was a The flower is a native of Central America,
co-founder of the National Institute for the
specifically a southern area of Mexico
Promotion of Science and the useful Arts, a
known as ‘Taxco del Alarcon’ where the
predecessor to the Smithsonian. Somehow,
festive flower played a significant role in
during all this, Poinsett managed to become
Aztec life. Purple dye was made from the
a botanist. While he did not discover the
leaves, as were cosmetics. The milky white
Mexican ‘flor de la noche buena’ (flower of
sap was made into medicine to treat fevers.
the holy night), he can be attributed to its
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arrival into the United States. Finding the flower beautiful he sent some back to South Carolina and grew several more in his plantation greenhouses. From there, the flower was gifted to friends and botanical gardens. Interestingly, the Poinsettia was first sold as cut flowers in the 1800s. It wasn't until the Ecke family in California (today's main producer of the plant) sold them as whole plants in the 1920s. While we still see them as houseplants in small pots, the Poinsettia plant can grow up to 15 feet tall as a shrub in Mexico and were once considered weeds. Joel Roberts Poinsett died in Stateburg of tuberculosis on December 12th 1851 and is buried at Church of the Holy Cross. In 2002, the House of Representatives created Poinsettia day, which is celebrated December 12th each year each year.
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For some an 1800s Christmas conjures images of Jo Meg Amy and Beth all curled around Mrs March s legs or Scarlett s iconic green curtain dress during the Civil War ,
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But for others it is a grim reminder of the South s peculiar institution While Christmas was a time of feast for wealthy people and fellowship for the poor the enslaved experienced was a more complex version of the holiday It goes without saying many enslaved people worked through Christmas to provide meals for planting owners and their families However some submitted to drunken dazes while others sought their freedom Still more were able to celebrate weddings or be satiated by something as simple as a yule log or heavy meal ,
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an enslaved Christmas
One devious form of psychological oppression was for masters to prepare feasts or gift their slaves choice cuts of meat in the hope they would see through rose tinted glasses and consider their situation less repressive Similarly whiskey an uncommon treat was doled out to slaves for the same reason a large meal might have been but often as a game for plantation owners to see how much they could drink before getting drunk while they placed bets .
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Christmas to provide meals for planting owners and their families However some submitted to drunken dazes while others sought their freedom Still more were able to celebrate weddings or be satiated by something as simple as a yule log or heavy meal .
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One devious form of psychological oppression was for masters to prepare feasts or gift their slaves choice cuts of meat in the hope they would see
through rose tinted glasses and consider their situation less repressive Similarly whiskey an uncommon treat was doled out to slaves for the same reason a large meal might have been but often as a game for plantation owners to see how much they could drink before getting drunk while they placed bets .
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Frederick Douglass said of this practice in My Bondage and My Freedom all the license allowed appears to have no other object than to disgust the slaves with their temporary freedom and to make them as glad to return to their work as they were to leave it Many of these tricks were meant to keep down the spirit of insurrection among the slaves ,
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Some masters allowed their slaves to select a yule log to burn in the main house another manipulative practice hidden in the guise of holiday generosity The length of time the log ,
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“all the license allowed appears to have no other object than to disgust the slaves with their temporary freedom, and to make them as glad to return to their work, as they were to leave it” FREDRICK DOUGLASS
burned was how long their respite from work was and sometimes would last until January a very generous Christmas gift Therefore it behooved a slave to choose a log that looked like it would burn for a long time ,
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One extraordinarily strange perhaps anomalous tradition was for slaves to claim Christmas gifts from any white people they saw All they had to say was Christmas gift before the white person could have a chance to speak to them Some slave owners were good natured and kept small trinkets such as sweets or coins just for this purpose Others not so amused by the practice would take the opportunity to make an example of an unwitting slave and punish them severely for such presumptuousness ,
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There were also several accounts of slaves winning their freedom Some masters would allow slaves to visit other family members or friends at neighboring plantations during Christmas with the promise of return as it was common to have children or spouses enslaved elsewhere who had been bought or sold
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One website Gone with the Wind Scrapbook sums up the whole ordeal perfectly Christmas in the antebellum South was ultimately a charade of benevolent paternalism glorified to the limits of caricature in stories like William Gilmore Simms Maize in Milk A Christmas Story of the South where noble planters with names like Colonel Openheart ignore their own financial difficulties to buy the old and infirm slaves of neighboring plantations to save them from being sold down river ,
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Of course no person of color could travel without what was known as a pass from their master Therefore slaves would use their passes to travel beyond neighboring plantations to their own freedom Harriet Tubman helped her brothers escape this way saving them from oppression and being the object of an upcoming sale scheduled for after the holidays Under the guise of visiting their elderly mother the men met Tubman instead and went on to the North It wasn t until after the holiday season did their master realize they were gone
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Enslaved people who traveled from one place to another were supposed to carry a pass signed by their owner. Those without such a pass could be arrested, jailed, and detained as a runaway. Some owners wrote general passes allowing their slaves to "pass" and "repass." The pass above was granted to Benjamin, allowing him to travel to a market in Shenandoah County, Virginia. Dated 1 January 1843, it included the destination as well as the specific day on which he was to return.
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Christmas Memories from Around Rock Hill
A few members of a Facebook group called "Memories of Growing up in Rock Hill, SC shared their memories of Christmas with the RHR this year, and what a special gift it was!.
s es wa i r o m me vorite trot in the a f y fm tt One o ment Sco m e the E mas parad t s Chri on Simps Vickie
One of my favorite childhood memories of the holidays is standing on the sidewalk on Oakland, usually near Winthrop watching the Christmas parade; especially loved watching the Iu Emmett Scott High School se d marching band performing their add d to lo Est y D ve t dance routines! The parade o av el w ond le's ho e Shu go wit seemed magical! erfu use gart h m Na Another favorite memory was l, a . The to y ncy nd Mo going through the Children’s lov y wer Aunt rto ing e n Christmas Party gift line at the peo p le. Bleachery Rock Hill Printing and Finishing Company . I looked forward to the bag of goodies every year! Santa was always there to greet the children! Kathy Balthis Barnes
seeing o t d r wa ed for ade with t k o o l I also ristmas par d. The bes n it n i the Ch tt Scott Ba ince I was re e s e w m Em as 96 Band. We . w e d para e RHHS ill parade h with t the Fort M also in ndez Ferna e i l l e N
I rem getti ember pi n Chris g enough cking cot t t and d mas gifts money t on and o upto ad at the for my m buy five a o Dian wn nd di ther a Ch me ilder sH amm ond
When I was a child during the 6 's, Christmas was at my grandparents house. They lived on Virginia St, behind the Arcade Cotton Mill. They had children, and during these years, maybe or grandkids,of which I'm the oldest. Everyone worked at the Bleachery or Celanese, so we weren't wealthy people! On Christmas Eve, the entire family was there to pass out gifts. Grandaddy J.C. Baker,Sr, would appoint a couple of kids to give out presents from under the tree. Soon you would be knee-deep in wrapping paper as the kids tore open the gifts. You could feel the excitement of these little kids! Grandma Estelle Shugart Baker and Grandaddy got something from everyone. There were homemade cakes and pies that Grandma made. My favorite was her coconut cake. Never have eaten a cake since that comes close to how good hers were. Later, everyone went home so Santa could visit the kids. On Christmas Day, it was back to the grandparents house for dinner and more great food! Now those days are gone and ourlifestyles have changed. My grandparents, my parents and many of my relatives have passed on. My grandkids will never know what it was like to have a housefull of relatives and kids so excited the can't even sit down! At the time, I never knew how much I would cherish these memories as I have grown older. John Freeman
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Christmas once upon a Time at 5 College Avenue WORDS BY DR. MARTHA BENN MACDONALD
My father, the late Dr. Roderick
the office, 332 East Main Street,
But to a little child who asked
Macdonald, brilliant,
originally home to the Reid
questions and wanted answers
compassionate, and kind, was
family or went to the hospital,
to learn, Daddy seemed remote.
an ophthalmologist and
either St. Philip’s or York County,
Dr. Roderick Macdonald met my
otolaryngologist, but a stern
or he invited patients to come to
mother in Columbia, surprisingly
Presbyterian/a devoted Calvinist
our house. I remember we
enough, over a table of bridge,
(his ancestors were from
scrambled for a flashlight.
and they were married. She was
Scotland. Some were desperate
Daddy made house calls. A
a musician (gorgeous contralto
after the “late war,” as some
servant to his patients, he took
voice). My mother sang at the
Southerners called the War
the Hippocratic Oath seriously,
Church of the Good Shepherd in
between the States; also, his
and as the late William Boyce
Columbia while she attended
mother, suffering most of her life
White, Jr., beloved teacher and
Chicora College which later
from osteomyelitis, lost her leg;
organist, said, “Dr. Macdonald
merged with Queens in
and his first wife died of cancer.
was read up, unlike a lot of
Charlotte). She married my
He knew what suffering was. A
doctors in Rock Hill.” His patients
father in 1932 at the First
few weeks before the Armistice
adored him. One carved a
Presbyterian Church in
was signed, my father was
wooden figure of Pop-Eye the
Columbia, South Carolina. Sara
drafted). Perhaps those
Sailor, having remembered
Benn Macdonald insisted on the
experiences caused his serious
Daddy’s words to his son: some
finest music, gave beautiful
demeanor. He was a firm
sort of remote analogy about
parties with decorations, and
believer in the sovereignty of
being strong like Pop-Eye and
provided her children with
God and reached out to his
eating your spinach and having
engaging activities.
patients. For example, he drove
your ears cleaned out. Pop-eye
a patient who didn’t have a car
seemed to serve as an
One look from Daddy, however,
to Charlotte for a medical
archetype for any unpleasantry
told you not to ask that second
appointment, and he saved the
in the office: from having drops
question. After all, children were
eye sight of Dori Sanders, the
in one’s eyes to having one’s
to be seen and not heard. “Don’t
writer from Clover. Sometimes
throat swabbed or something
dig under, Martha,” he would say
he put on a suit in the middle of
stitched up.
to me if I asked a question,
the night and met patients at
simply trying to understand something.
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seemed to relax. As I said, John Calvin disappeared for a few weeks! Daddy attended parties with Mamma, commented on the decorations Mary and I had put on the Christmas tree, enjoyed our little concert in the living room on Christmas morning, and always appreciated my mother’s music at Oakland Avenue Presbyterian Church. Outside of Winthrop, she was the first to direct Handel’s Messiah in church in Rock Hill, S.C., and the very first, ever, to offer Vivaldi’s Gloria. She consulted with the priests at the Oratory on Latin pronunciations. There were the pageants at church. During my college years, I wrote a couple of pageants and directed them, calling on the late Dr. William R. Sims (pharmacist at old St. Phillip’s Drug Store and our dear next door neighbor) to play the role of a prophet, and I made papier Mache animals. We brought a cedar tree home from the church each Christmas. The pageant was exciting for me and (I think for Mary). She either
5 College Ave
sang or took a part. At home, we continued to have Christmas plays in our cellar.
What was I to do? Even as a
spirit of John Calvin. But between
child, I always thought the way
Thanksgiving and Christmas, something
Mary and I always relaxed
to learn was to ask questions. It
changed, and that time was marvelous.
during December. Even though
was, and it still is! Daddy was
The house was alive with music,
Mamma and Daddy never knew
simply “old school.” To comfort
decorations, baking, the doorbell ringing,
it, we sat under the tree and
me, my mother would roll her
caroling, and much, much more. My
opened our presents, then
laughing blue eyes and smile.
mother usually put up a garland above
rewrapped them. Further, the
Amused by Mamma’s humor, my
the door featuring a wreath, but one
doorbell constantly rang with
identical twin, Mary, and I were
year, she made a very special
deliveries. There were
comforted by the fact that we
decoration: a bough sprayed gold with
complimentary gifts for my
could later ask her what we
unusual white bells and tiny birds. It was
father, such as ice cream,
wanted to know, but I remained
spectacular. I remember being excited
candy, and special pens, from
troubled over knowing that I
as I walked up the steps in December of
the various pharmacies. During
couldn’t ask questions.
1954. It was gorgeous.
this festive time, Mamma always had laryngitis, so she went
For most of the year, the house
This month of preparing was an exciting
around the house, a
was, indeed, somber and
time. Even my father
handkerchief covered in Vick’s
foreboding, haunted by the
wrapped around her throat, as she touched up this, picked up
that, and directed Zinzie, our nanny, whom I absolutely adored (Zinzie was my best friend who taught me many life lessons, even during the holidays).
Mamma played carols on our old record player, wrote extra Christmas cards whose envelopes Mary and I stamped, and created marvelous decorations. I will never forget the cedar garland which looped from our chandelier in the dining room to the centerpiece on the table. Mamma and Daddy sent pecans from our three trees, as well as cheese straws and fruit cakes in the mail to friends. Then, there were those deliveries which Mary and I made.
Mary and I loved it all, for there was merriment and joy. It was, to repeat, as though a magical spell was cast about the historic home which for most of the year was foreboding and sinister, Calvinistic, or so it seemed to us. It was as though the spirit of Ermine Wilfong, organist for forty years at the Episcopal Church and instructor of piano at Winthrop, who had lived here with her mother before World War II, and loomed over certain rooms, disappeared for a season (I know her ghost yet haunts the house, for I hear her in the late afternoon on the second floor, especially in the winter). Perhaps you knew her or heard about her. “Miss Ermine” was talented, but, oh, her countenance was stern, as seriously Calvinistic as my father’s, even though I could never imagine their comparing notes about Rock Hill. She was an Episcopalian, and he was a Presbyterian. I remember seeing her walking toward 325 years after she’d moved from this house. Haunting!
But Ermine’s stern spirit, like my father’s, seemed to vanish during the enchanting season between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. Calvinism disappeared for a season, and that was refreshing. Even with music at the church on Christmas Eve, Mamma offered one of Daddy’s favorites: stewed oysters. There was a little sherry or champagne, and following church, we all enjoyed eggnog at Frances Millings’ lovely home down on East Main Street. Eggnog abounded. If we weren’t too weary, Mary and I joined friends for the midnight service at the Episcopal Church. Home from New York where she was a professional musician, our sister, Rose (Margaret Rose, as she was called then), often did as well. She joked about rocking around the altar rail after too many rounds of eggnog. “And the ‘nog’ was very potent and delicious.”
On Christmas morning, after we enjoyed gifts from Santa by the fire in the den, we had breakfast (something special Mamma created), then unwrapped presents from under the tree around the dining room table. After that ritual, Mary and I gave our concert, and we helped Mamma serve dinner around one or two. Sometimes in the late afternoon, Mamma and Daddy invited friends over for eggnog. Mary and I liked that time. Why? Nobody paid much attention to us, and we could disappear---either to walk or talk. So many years, the season was balmy, misty, and gray. Because it was warm, I loved being outside.
During the days following December 25th, most people on College Avenue were obsessed with getting down those dry cedar trees. You’d see the trees on the street, a little tinsel clinging to the boughs. Mary and I, along with others, including young Henry Mobley, who never
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wore shoes, even on the coldest days, gathered these discarded trees and made a fort in our backyard near one of the pecan trees. Even though I no longer build forts, the image lingers in my mind, and a Christmas does not go by that the old urge to drag a tree home does not recur (incidentally, I returned to Rock Hill years ago to take care of Mamma). So I pull a tree to my yard and adorn it with pinecones covered with peanut butter and seeds or cracker crumbs for the birds. Much as I dislike cold weather, the red birds beckon me on a cold morning in January as they’re feasting on the treats. Months later, the branches of the tree become mulch.
Christmas vanished all too quickly, and New Year’s Day came in, for me, seemingly colder than December with all of the merriment, love, festivity, and joy of the Christmas season gone: “Cold December flies away….”
And hog jowl, which Mamma insisted on, traditionalist that she was, for New Year’s Day dinner, along with collards, hoppin’ John, and artichoke pickles, and leftover fruit cake, seemed dull and dreary compared to Christmas with turkey, ham, oysters, corn pudding, homemade dressing, creamed peas, cranberry jelly, Zinzie’s home-made rolls, and a wide variety of desserts, including cakes and pies, ambrosia, and much, much more. Even though the spirit of the Nativity lingered in my heart, the presence of Calvin returned to our abode on January the First. Despite the beautiful snow, rich blue sky, and cardinals on a fallen pine bough, I was “bone cold.” Daddy poured boiling water on the windshield which, miraculously, never broke, so that he could drive us to school on days he wasn’t in the operating at one of the hospitals.
Except at Christmas, my parents rarely opened a
Known as the Theodore Quantz House, 325 College
bottle of wine, but they never ceased to tip the
Avenue was built about 1910. Dr. Gaston Quantz, a
bottle of mineral oil each evening. Those were the
beloved physician, grew up here. Later the house was
days. Christmas at 325 College Avenue was a
owned by Miss Ermine Wilfong, a piano teacher at
beautiful time, and I will always treasure those
Winthrop College (now University). Dr. and Mrs.
memories. Memories make stories to share we
Roderick Macdonald purchased the house in 1942. Dr.
those we love and those who seriously want to
Macdonald was a well-known ophthalmologist and
know about Historic Rock Hill.
practiced in Rock Hill for over 50 years.
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Collards: A New Year’s Tradition
Nothing compliments a dish like a big helping of greens So it s no wonder why collard greens were named the official state vegetable in 2011 Collards have been eaten for at least 2000 years and have been a South Carolina fixture in our landscapes and kitchens for as long as anyone can remember .
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It wasn t until African slaves started to prepare collard in a unique way that the leafy vegetable became popular The term potlikker not to be confused with pot liquor or pot licker is the residue that is left from the heating and ’
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evaporation of the greens In short it s what s left in the bottom of the pot The stock of potlikker would usually be made up of chicken broth onion salt and pepper and a ham hock This method changed what otherwise was a simple green to a time honored traditional South Carolina staple
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The tradition of eating collard greens and their accompanying foods can be found in many different versions but all boil down to luck and blessings in the coming year ,
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First black eyed peas are thought to be lucky because during the Civil War after General Sherman s troops ripped through Confederate food supplies they supposedly took everything but you guessed it the peas and salted pork These leftovers however sustained the Confederate soldier through the winter and they considered themselves lucky to have been left the two otherwise undesirable foodstuffs ,
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What s more the first day of January 1863 marked the Emancipation ’
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Proclamation but all slaves really had to eat were the peas
The southern tradition each bite of greens you eat is worth 1 000 in the upcoming year But collards must not be eaten alone Cornbread which represents spending money is another soul food for New Year s Day This is because the color of the bread gold represents money making the two go hand in hand
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Still they celebrated their freedom and the tradition continued and the peas are still eaten on the first day January
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Now let s get down to the real star of the show The fact that collards are a late crop causes them to be a large part of the New Year s Day meal and take the place of other cultures fermented cabbage But in addition to the luck that black eyed peas bring collards which represent green as in money is eaten on the first day of each year ’
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Incidentally collard greens are rich in and of themselves They are rich in vitamins K C and E calcium B1 B6 Iron omega 3 fatty acids and more So even if you don t get rich with paper money despite eating collards you will continue to be healthy
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How to Prepare Collard Greens for New Year s Day Recipe from Discover South Carolina Ingredients 1 tbsp olive oil 1 cup white onion chopped 6 8 cloves of garlic chopped 3 cups chicken broth Smoked turkey fully cooked leg tail or neck 32 oz collard greens thoroughly washed stems removed and cut into strips Salt and pepper to taste Directions In a large deep pot heat olive oil on medium heat Add onions and cook until tender Add in chicken broth garlic and smoked turkey Bring to a boil and reduce heat Cover and simmer for about 20 30 minutes Add collards to pot pushing them down if necessary Add salt and pepper to season if desired When the greens begin to wilt down cover and simmer for about an hour or until your desired tenderness texture is reached stirring occasionally ’
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THE ROCK HILL READER WILL BE 1 YEAR OLD ON JANUARY 1ST, 2019!
Fall/Winter 2018
Rock Hill Reader the Magazine
issue 08
Credits
Founder, Rebecca Sutton
Editor Contributing Writer Design, marketing, social media
Catherine Sutton Dr. Martha Benn Macdonald Rebecca Sutton
EDITORIAL
OFFICE
Rock Hill Reader the Magazine is published independently by Rock Hill Reader Rock Hill, South Carolina | +(803) 810-9458 rockhillreader@gmail.com
www.rockhillreader.com