Something’s Afoot in the Lowcountry: Roadside Signs - Harbingers of hell, hope and reform

Journalist, author and historian Michael DeWitt Jr. will be hiking the highways, byways, and waterways of lower South Carolina for his new health, travel and lifestyle column.

"Stop looking for signs. Signs follow; they do not precede." – Neville Goddard, author and mystic

• DESTINATION: Major highways and byways of the Hampton/Varnville area.

• Distance: 1.31 miles afoot, over various locations

• Steps: 2,636

• Hydration: Tazo Zen Green Tea with New Zealand Manuka Honey

• Audiobook: Southern Man by Greg Iles

Signs and billboards guide us, influence us, or distract us with various messages as we speed along life’s literal highways to work, school, grocery, vacation. If we let the roadside signs in Hampton County truly communicate with us, they will speak volumes.

Every town, city and rural area in America has its signs, and while some are universally common – watch for children, don’t speed! – others are unique and special to their locale.

One might expect to find “Beware Alligators” signs down in the Florida Everglades, “Watch for Falling Rocks” in the mountains, or something like “Elk Crossing” or “Don’t Feed the Bears” up north and out west.

Here in Hampton County, S.C., the roadside signs range from the humorous to the political and serious, from signs of inspiration and hope to harbingers of hell and damnation.

Searching for a sign

As you may recall from last week’s introductory column, I have begun a quest to walk the length and breadth of my hometown Hampton County and then hike the nearby reaches of the S.C. Lowcountry and beyond in search of exercise, better health, adventure, and stories.

I have found that I’m guilty of spending too much time here alone in my home office, when the people and the real stories lie beyond my four walls, and as a literary journey there are many precedents for this column. I have enjoyed The Walk West: A Walk Across America, and Across China, by Peter and Barbara Jenkins, and I recently picked up Walking the Nile by Levison Wood.

I’m aware that this quest will take me years, but before I can begin to explore the far reaches of the Lowcountry and beyond, I feel I must first walk the highways and byways that I see every day in search of meaning and insight.

For this leg of my journey, I focused primarily on the Varnville and Hampton areas, from a suburb area known as Frog Hollow to Lake Warren. Over the course of several trips, I alternated driving and walking to capture the images, and context, of several signs that visitors and locals alike might see along major thoroughfares.

From roaches to hot honey chicken

Some signs around the county are symbols of welcoming new people, new potential, and change, such as the sign near the new Dollar General in Hampton that says, “Welcome to HC Dr. Sheffield” to make Dr. Glenda Sheffield, our new Hampton County School District Superintendent, feel at home.

Our two public school districts recently consolidated, bringing “both sides of the swamp” together after more than a hundred years, and the new countywide district is building an $85 million high school and career center, so collaboration and education are a major focus for us right now, as it should be.

Other signs are more humorous, such as the pest exterminator billboard a few blocks away that declares “Zero Roaches in Hampton!” Dr. Sheffield might be happy to hear that, as will the custodial staff of the new school.

Other signs amuse me more personally along the way, although in a naughtier, yet head-scratching way, such as the signs at the local Kentucky Fried Chicken joint that advertise “Mike’s Hot Honey Box” and “Mike’s Favorite Box.”

Who is Mike, exactly, I wondered? I searched my phone, and Google informed me that "Mike" in the context of KFC's "Mike's Hot Honey Chicken" refers to Mike Kurtz, the founder of Mike’s Hot Honey, a brand that KFC recently partnered with.

This “Mike,” as most of my family members call me, was tempted to text pictures of these signs to his favorite honey, along with a quasi-romantic message or two, but I thought better of it.

From hope to hellfire

As I walked U.S. Route 278 through Frog Hollow, near the Spirit of Life Ministries church, I began to see religious signs. Most of these signs quoted scripture and left messages of hope, wisdom, or faith, such as the double-sided billboard that proclaimed “Grief Is Love With No Place To Go” on one side, and “Won By One” on the other.

But deeper into the Hampton area, at the intersection the locals call “Five Points,” the religious signs are simpler in appearance yet take on a more serious tone. “Are You Really Saved?” one asks. “Die Tonight? Heaven? Hell?” another enquires, then a nearby sign answers “Hell If You Don’t Obey!”

Yet another declares that “O.S.A.S. (One Saved, Always Saved) Is A Lie of the Devil!” (I admit, I had to Google O.S.A.S. as well.)

There are more than 100 churches in Hampton County, by The Hampton County Guardian’s last count, and whether it’s a message of encouragement, or hellfire and damnation, it is clear that people here take their religion seriously, at least along these paved county roads, and they are worried about lost souls.

I’m not a religious person, but I agree that there are souls that need saving here: salvation from poor health, poverty, drug abuse and addiction, or dangerous criminal lifestyles. Those are the signs that we need to watch for.

Politics and prayer

As I tread onward, cars rocking me as I step among pollen-filled puddles and roadside litter, a homemade billboard urges me to pray for our county and its local government council.

Others are less about heavenly requests and more about down-to-earth calls for reform. One sign beseechs “Citizens Save Our County” but doesn’t specify what it needs saving from. But anyone who has followed our local news reports is very familiar with the 2012 penny sales tax referendum that failed to deliver a countywide recreation complex the citizens pleaded for, the millions in misspent public monies that continue to outrage the citizenry, and the recently indicted former county officials.

“We voted for a rec center, not a financial wreck,” declares one sign, while others remind citizens that as much as $5.1 million in county taxpayers’ dollars is still “missing” or unaccounted for, and not paid back.

Distrust of local government is clearly evident here, judging from the signs seeking accountability and a forensic audit of county government finances. Another warns of a pending new ordinance that locals fear will prevent people who can’t afford better from living in RVs or campers.

"Stop looking for signs. Signs follow; they do not precede,” wrote author Neville Goddard, and will there is much truth to that, many here obviously hope that these signs will precede a long-term reform and overhaul of county leadership and financial security.

The most common sign of the times

Business advertisements, political signs, roadside religious omens, they vary from one end of the county to the other. But there is one common sign of the times that I can’t avoid focusing on: roadside litter.

From paved four lanes to dirt roads, I was astounded by the trash mankind leaves in its wake. Some is perhaps explainable, such as debris and car parts from moving hunks of steal and rubber. Others – the food containers, drink bottles, cigarette butts, and even entire pieces of discarded furniture – both amaze and disgust me.

In addition to my vow to travel almost every road and community in my hometown, I have now added a new pledge. In my walks I will strive to join local cleanup efforts whenever possible, such as those organized by Keep Hampton County Beautiful. And on Earth Day, April 22, the Seed and Weed Garden Club is hosting a litter pickup event along Ben Hazel Road, and I plan to be there.

The roadside signs of Hampton County have spoken to me, and the message is clear that we need to save our county, one soul, one dollar, and one stretch of litter-filled road at a time.

I hope you will walk with me again next week.