Upcoming Charleston Area Happenings

Plan your beach getaway around these exciting events!

63rd Annual Festival of Houses and Gardens
3/18/10 – 4/17/10
Experience the intimate charm and elegance found only beyond Charleston's private garden gates and historic thresholds. The Festival is set during the peak of the city's blooming season. Set amid the historic ambience of the city’s Old & Historic District, this series of award-winning tours showcases Charleston’s distinctive architecture, history, gardens and culture. These tours provide a rare opportunity for guests to go inside the private houses and gardens of some of America’s most beautiful historic residences, dating to the 18th century. Visit Charleston to see why it has been renowned for three centuries as “a city set in a garden.”

Family Circle Cup
4/10/10 – 4/18/10
Every spring, the City of Charleston and Daniel Island (10 minute drive from Isle of Palms) serves as a backdrop to one of the richest and most traditional events in women's professional tennis. The Family Circle Cup, one of twenty Premier events on the Sony Ericsson WTA Tour, has a roster of past champions that include some of the biggest names in the history of women's tennis including Chris Evert, Martina Navratilova, Tracy Austin, Steffi Graf, Gabriela Sabatini, Martina Hingis, Jennifer Capriati, Venus Williams, Justine Henin, and Serena Williams. The 2010 Family Circle Cup promises to be an exciting tournament as it will celebrate 10 years in Charleston.

Piccolo Spoleto Festival
5/28/10 - 6/13/10
Piccolo's mission is to provide access to the Spoleto Festival experience for everyone, regardless of their economic, social or physical circumstances and to provide the opportunity for excellent local and regional artists, writers and performances to be presented in Piccolo's "local venue." Piccolo Spoleto offers something wonderful for everyone - from classical to contemporary, from traditional to cutting edge. One of the unique aspects of Piccolo Spoleto is the accessibility to the Spoleto Festival experience. Half of Piccolo's events are admission-free, and the rest are offered at very modest ticket prices.

Spoleto Festival
5/28/10 - 6/13/10
Spoleto Festival USA was founded in 1977 by Pulitzer Prize-winning Italian composer Gian Carlo Menotti, Christopher Keene and others, who sought to create an American counterpart to their annual Festival of Two Worlds in Spoleto, Italy. Looking for a city that would provide the charm of Spoleto as well as its wealth of theaters, churches and other performances spaces, they selected Charleston as the ideal location. The historic city provided a perfect fit: intimate enough that the festival would captivate the entire city; yet cosmopolitan enough to provide an enthusiastic audience and robust infrastructure.Since then Spoleto Festival USA has firmly established itself as one of the world’s leading festivals, presenting more than 200 world or American premieres. Notable past premieres and commissions include: Monkey: Journey to the West by Chen Shi-Zheng, Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett; Peter and Wendy by Lee Breuer; Creve Coeur by Tennessee Williams; The American Clock by Arthur Miller; The Mechanical Organ by the Nikolais Dance Theatre; Miracolo d’Amore by Martha Clarke; Empty Places by Laurie Anderson; Hydrogen Jukebox by Philip Glass and Allen Ginsberg; Praise House by Urban Bush Women; Three Tales by Steve Reich and Beryl Korot; and Tenebrae by Osvaldo Golijav.

Charleston Harbor Fest
June 18, 2010 - June 20, 2010
Charleston Harbor Fest is a true harbor-wide celebration of the sea. Attracting visitors and locals alike, this event is family-friendly and loads of fun for all ages. From the classic beauty of sailing ships, wooden boats and pirates giving their best “Argh” to the interactive educational exhibits, Charleston Harbor Fest offers an array of activities. You can be as hands-on as you want from tame to adventurous. Tour the ships, enjoy the scenic waterfront and relax with a beverage and fine Lowcountry fare. For those with more adventurous spirit, build your own boat over the weekend with the handy help of our volunteers, head out on the harbor for your free sailing lesson, or actually join the crew of one of the ships and sail north to Boston. For those more interested in air than sea, there are aerobatic flight demonstrations, helicopter rides and other exciting aerial attractions.

A Magical Piece

In one-way or another, we’ve all got it: that little piece of magic tucked away in a memory.

It might be locked up in the conch shell that your father first put up to your ear when you were a child. Maybe it’s hiding in the warm breeze that inscribed your first, real kiss on that August night. Perhaps, it’s in the wet footprint of your oldest child when he finally swam the deep end and ran to you in pride.

Whatever it is, one thing is certain- we’ve all got it.

It’s that image; that feeling; that one thing that comes to mind when you hear the magical word, ”summer”.

The first time we went to that little island, I was eight. They called it, “the Isle of the Palms”.

I can still smell the warm, salty promises of hours on the beach with my brother as we drove over the old drawbridge. Like all of our family vacations, the isolation forced a bond between the two of us. And as the youngest, I couldn’t have been happier.

We did everything together.

We hosted shelling competitions with the other kids staying on the beach. Even, though, I swear to this day, starfish beat sand dollars, the pretty blonde next store won first-place. (My brother was the judge).

By day, the island laughed in the sun as we splashed in the waves, never even needing to pretend. It was an oasis to our imaginations.

We busted through the screen doors in the early hours of the morning and didn’t return until sunset. It was on of those rare, safe places that we were allowed to roam.

Our parents reveled in the freedom of not having to worry.

The island was ours.

Every year after that summer, my brother and I would count the days until June, when we would return to our magical haven. And every year, our adventures grew with us. When I was 11, we made our mom drive us to one end of the island so that we could bike the whole thing—start to finish. Two pit stops, four water bottles and six miles later; we were looking down onto cloud nine.

The first thing we did when we got back to the condo was figure out how old one must be to join the Olympics.

Apparently, we had a few more vacations to practice.

The great thing about that place was that, year after year, it never really changed. Although, we’d grow from autumn until spring, and our interests evolved with age, we always had that promise to return to our untouched childhood.

That innocent memory existed off the coast of South Carolina.

On one of those rendezvous, something happened to me; something that was so amazing and so tragic to a 15-year-old girl.

For the first time, I fell in love.

We had been watching each other since the Saturday that I got there. And every time I caught his eye, a swarm of butterflies invaded my stomach. (Thank goodness for the justice that my sunburn did for my flushed face).

His family stayed two condos over and our parents meshed perfectly. Our mothers formed an instant sunbathing book club, while our fathers shared 8 a.m. tee-times at the island’s golf club. I would spend most days on the beach, brainstorming ways to initiate conversation with the boy. I’d stare at young couples, walking hand-in-hand, searching for any kind of inspiration.

Five nights before he left, I finally found it.

I volunteered to go on an ice run for my dad and there he was: barefoot on the dock, a fishing pole in his sun-kissed hands. I bit my lip, swallowed my pride and took 16 conscious steps to where he stood.

I looked at him.

He looked back at me.

A few too many panicky seconds passed.

I had to say something.

Anything.

“Have you ever read, ‘The Old Man and the Sea’?”

Oh my goodness. What did I just say?

He broke out into a perfectly straight, pearly white smile.

“As a matter of fact, that’s the only book that I think I’d read again.”

We both laughed.

In an instant, all of the anxiety and tension that had been building up for the past seven days, fled out of our bodies and into the trade winds.

That boy gave me my first kiss that night on the docks. By the end of the following day, he showed me my first love. And weeks later, when promises of phone calls lost hope, that boy gave my heart its first, real break.

Still, several years later, when I pass that dock each June, I can feel my heart beat a little faster and a few leftover butterflies flap their wings.

There’s something about summer that makes things a little deeper; a little stronger.

It’s something in the warmth of the air that revisits the innocence of our youth.

We’ve all got it. The difference is that some people keep their magic hidden behind years of adulthood.

I know what my “something” is. It’s that little island tucked away in the Lowcountry. It’s that quaint, magical piece that remains unchanged.

And I know that each June, when I return, I will become that kid, again.

Summer Memories

Spring has finally arrived on Isle of Palms! The sun is shining more, the days seem to be longer, and we are finally starting to be reminded of the imfamous southern summer heat. As summer days start to approach, not only am I excited about welcoming the sun and waves- I am also ready to welcome all of the families that come to visit us each summer season!

I remember traveling to the beach every summer growing up. My dad worked from 9-5 at his job in Washington, D.C., but my mom was a teacher and she had three months off during the summer. My little brother Dylan, my mom, and I would wake up very early, pack up the car, and drive south for the summer. My mom's family all had relocated to the Carolina's from Virginia, and my mom's sisters, who are all teachers as well, had a summer vacation. We would all caravan the rest of the way until we crossed the bridge and finally reached the shore.

There were 5 aunts, 1 grandma, and 12 cousins all crammed inside the house, but looking back, I love how we were all so close! We would run out of bedrooms and I remember all the cousins in sleeping bags in the family room on multiple occasions. Waking up every morning, we fell into the routine of applying suntan lotion and making too many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to count. We jumped the waves, built sand castles, and looked for shells, and when the sun started to set, we would pack up our toys and sand covered beach chairs and head back for the night. We ate crab that we had caught in our own crab pots and we centered our schedules around the tides. When they were off of work on the weekends, my dad and uncles would head down to the beach and each husband would take a week off to be at the beach with their family.

As the years have gone by, my cousins and I have all gotten older. Most of us have graduated from high school and some of us have even graduated from college and have entered the "real world". Our vacation days are limited and we are all starting to realize how lucky we were to spend such a great amount of time at the beach when we were younger. Not only were those beach-filled summers a vacation for our parents- those summers helped us each create memories and establish bonds that we would each carry far into adulthood. I am extremely close to all of my extended family and it is undeniable that our relationships were strengthened each summer.

I am so excited to see other families come to the beach for their summer vacations and I know that the memories that they create will last through their generations. Nothing compares to the time you were able to spend with your parents, your siblings, and your children, and a beach vacation allows you to completely relax and spend quality time with your closest family and friends. Being at the beach reminds us that we should remember the simple things in life. We are able to take a break from our normally busy lives and take pleasure in the simple things in life. We spend all afternoon building a castle made of sand and jumping waves, and being at the beach reminds us that at the end of the day, it is the hand that we are holding while we jump through the waves that matters the most.