Faces – Lowcountry originals

STORY BY BARRY KAUFMAN + PHOTOGRAPHY BY LISA STAFF

We live in a community of transplants. For most of us the first question we ask new people is, “Where are you from?” And the answers reflect the enduring appeal of the Lowcountry, drawing in new residents from all points on the globe. And to this rich stew of backgrounds and personalities, we each add seasoning from our native lands.

But some folks were here when that stew first started bubbling. They’re the ones who answer the question “Where are you from?” with a resounding “Right here.” Long before most of us came here to make our mark on this unique community of far-flung perspectives, they were laying the foundation. 

Meet a few of the locals who can truly claim to be Lowcountry originals, and discover how they’ve helped create this community we’ve all come to share.

Ron and Natalie Daise

Sharing the soul of Gullah culture with the world

For many of us comeyahs, our first introduction to Gullah culture came when we first arrived on Hilton Head  Island, entering the island right through the heart of villages and neighborhoods that had stood long before the bridge. These neighborhoods were formed more than a century ago, when the bright light of emancipation cast a new day of freedom for people who had been born into shackles. Over time we comeyahs came to know our binyah neighbors better, discovering the singular culture that emerged from a stew of West African traditions right here in the Sea Islands.

But for an entire generation of children, their first introduction to Gullah culture came from TV. Premiering 30 years ago, the show Gullah Gullah Island found its audience on Nick Jr., teaching children about Gullah Geechee culture in between iconic series like Rugrats and Muppet Babies. 

And teaching those kids something new with every episode were presenters and husband-and-wife duo, Ron and Natalie Daise.

“I’ve heard from young adults who’ve said that seeing us on TV on a day-to-day basis when they were kids helped them to realize who they could be … when they matured. It kind of opened a door of enlightenment to a whole generation of people,” said Ron. “Even during the time of production, we would get responses from people around the world, telling us how it impacted their lives. And for numerous cultures of the African diaspora, they would say how it related to the speech or the rhythm of the music or the looks of their people. It helped them to see themselves in some way.” 

The show stemmed from the couple’s performances throughout the region and country.

“When Ron and I began performing 40-something years ago, there were very few people doing what we were doing. We were following in the footsteps of people like Jamie Hunter from James Island and the Georgia Sea Island Singers out of St. Simons,” said Natalie. “We were the youngsters coming up under the elders and without an understanding of the impact of what we were doing.”

Their commitment to sharing Gullah culture through art didn’t end when the show did in 2000. The couple, now living in Georgetown, earned the South Carolina Order of the Palmetto and the State of South Carolina Folk Heritage Award for their work as artists, musicians and storytellers in sharing Gullah culture.

“I joke, but I’m not really joking when I say I want to be the little old lady who tells the stories. I might die in the green room, but you’ll know I was up there until the end,” said Natalie. “That’s the plan, if I am blessed to have another several decades. But up until then Ron, he’s writing books, Ron’s baking cakes, Ron’s creating songs, Ron’s writing new programs. Always, always, always.”

Gullah Gullah: The Portal

Continuing on the success of the original Gullah Gullah Island show, Ron and Natalie Daise’s son, Simeon, launched Gullah Gullah: The Portal, a reimagining of his parents’ show, exploring Gullah Geechee culture in a deeper way.

“A big part of what our son is championing and coordinating is based on an essay that our daughter, Sara Makeba, wrote, Be Here Now: The South Is a Portal,” said Ron. “Realizing the significance of the South and its people and its history and its heritage is all built into this reimagination that we’re working on to bring to life for others to enjoy.”

And how much input are his TV-star parents offering, besides cameo appearances?

“We open a certain door into this particular universe, let’s say, but we’re following his lead here,” said Natalie.

Watch the trailer at gullahgullahtheportal.net.

Barbara Hudson

A legacy of love, family and the sea

Barbara Hudson was just a girl living on Hilton Head Island when she met the man she was going to marry. Her father had brought the family to the island from Statesboro. He sold gas on the island back when gas had to be shipped here by barge, and Barbara grew up playing baseball on dirt roads, swimming in creeks and chasing wild turkeys around her yard. 

“The first week we moved to Hilton Head, we were playing baseball, and one of the kids next door who was playing with us said, ‘I got to tell you, there is a white man that lives down at the end of this road, and he drives a black and white vehicle. And if you see him coming down that road, you best get out of the road because he will run you over and kill you dead,’” recalled Barbara “That’s the first thing I had ever heard about Benny Hudson.”

Even though he was 13 years her senior on a small island where everyone knew everyone, Benny became a fixture in Barbara’s life long before they were wed. He was there when she graduated. He was there when her first child was born. Both Benny and Barbara would have first marriages end in divorce, and would find their lives pulled back together over the restaurant that would eventually bear the Hudson name. 

“My dad helped Benny build that restaurant, and my mom ran the oyster shucking business and did deliveries. When he started putting the restaurant together, Benny would pick me up, and we’d go to Savannah to buy equipment. We became really close, and then one day it changed from being really good friends into something else,” she said. “We were married 25 years before he passed away. He was the love of my life and we had the greatest time together.”

Those years saw the couple continue the Hudson family’s seafood legacy on Hilton Head, following a brief sojourn to the Florida Keys. When the strain of running three oyster businesses, 24 shrimp trawlers and a restaurant proved to be too much, they sold it to the Carmines family, who still owns Hudson’s Seafood House on the Docks. Then they’d open their famed seafood market inside a shipping container, selling furniture out of a larger building out front. 

The Hudson family legacy began even before Hilton Head Island’s modern era. It continues on through shrimp and oysters pulled from the water and in a CRAB Group restaurant that bears Benny’s name. And if you look up in the rafters at Benny’s Coastal Kitchen, you’ll notice a boat hanging from the ceiling. Painted across her hull in golden letters, the ship has been christened “Miss Barbara.”

“I broke down crying when I walked in and saw that,” she said.

Minding the minnows

While you’ll find photos and ephemera of the legendary fisherman all over the restaurant, one of the most fascinating ways that Benny’s Coastal Kitchen honors its namesake is also one of the most subtle. The minnows, scattered throughout the décor and menu, tell the story of Benny’s last day on earth.

Years ago, Benny Hudson dug a pair of shallows on either side of Squire Pope Road to supply local fishermen with bait fish. During one of the many times that the road sunk (“Like Benny always said, ‘a swamp is a swamp,’” said Barbara), the highway department had come in with the intention of not only restoring Squire Pope Road, but filling in those minnow ponds.

Benny wouldn’t have the highway department ruining his ponds, so he hopped on his golf cart, flagged down the first worker he could find and asked them to spare the ponds. That worker went to relay his concerns to another worker who was up on a drag line. “She jumped down, went back to the golf cart to give him his answer, and he had passed away right there,” said Barbara.

The ponds still stock minnows for local fishermen and form one of the most unique details at Benny’s Coastal Kitchen.

Annelore Harrell

Capturing the spirit of old Bluffton

For 24 years Annelore Harrell’s columns have kept a little bit of old Bluffton’s warmth, charm and atmosphere alive as the town has ballooned from a square mile into a sprawling suburb-opolis. Through her words, readers have been transported to her upbringing on a river that she still fondly refers to by its old-world spelling, The Maye. 

“We were summer people. The majority of the people in Bluffton were summer people then. We came when school was out, and we went home when school started again after Labor Day, but when we were here, we connected in the river,” she said.”The sand bars were where we all met, and we recognized everyone’s boats on the river. We knew when Bill Johns had been imbibing on Purple Jesus because he had his Evinrude that didn’t have a muffler. He lost his motor in the river at least twice a year.”

To read her columns, as countless have in the Carolina Morning News, then Bluffton Today and now The Bluffton Sun, is to understand Bluffton. But to hear it straight from the author herself, gilded by an accent sweeter than any tea, adds depth.

“When I wrote a column, I wanted you, the reader, to go with me and experience what I was experiencing,” she said. “And I did a lot of research.”

That not only meant digging into archives, it also meant living the Bluffton state of mind in ways that few have. Skinny-dipping in the May River. Hearing the birds go silent and knowing that a hurricane was on the way. Watching Charlie Ulmer dig the first well on her Myrtle Island property. And, in time, watching the town grow.

“I’m so thankful for Hank Johnston and Martha Crapse and her people on the corridor review committee for what they put into effect for Bluffton,” she said. “I think we’re blessed in that way.”

The first 44 of her columns have now been reproduced in what will be the first volume of a book series titled, Et Cetera Y’all. Filled with not only her columns but vintage photos of Annelore’s life along the Maye, it’s essentially a 207-page time capsule of a bygone era that defined what Bluffton is.

“People were asking for it, but I didn’t want to do it. Then I had an epiphany – time was running out,” she said with her sly smile. 

Et Cetera Y’all, Vol. 1 is available at anneloreharrell.com. For $25 you can have a copy mailed to you, but for $20 you can swing by the author’s home and pick up your copy.

The State of Mind

There’s really no one definition for the Bluffton state of mind, the quasi-mystical atmosphere that informs this town’s mythology. To some, the Bluffton state of mind can be found at the helm of a bateau, riding the waves of the May. To others, it’s a laid-back charm that never travels faster than a golf cart will allow. 

But few can speak with the kind of authority that Annelore Harrell brings to the discussion. After all, her award-winning column has chronicled her own experiences with the state of mind for 24 years. So how does she define it?

“The Bluffton state of mind is where you allow everyone to do their own thing, at their own pace and in their own way,” she said.

You can hear more during an author talk at the Hilton Head Library from 11:30 a.m.-12:30 p.m. Feb. 14. She will also appear on May 21 at the Friends of the Library in Beaufort and at 2 p.m. May 31 at the Pat Conroy Literary Center.