Introduction: Writing My Way Back to Mayberry

Memories of Mayberry - Growing Up in a Small Southern Town

Story Archive

Memories of Mayberry is a series of stories about growing up during the 50s & 60s in Walterboro, a small town nestled deep in the heart of the South Carolina Lowcountry.

If you could write your way back to ANYWHERE, where would it be?

This post (and stories to follow) was prompted by that challenge from

Kristi Keller

in her recent thought-provoking post, Don’t Get Comfy. Life Always Has a Spectacular Plot Twist on the Wildhood Wanted Substack newsletter.

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Photo by Beth Desrosiers on Unsplash

Mayberry.

What comes to mind when you hear that name?

To millions of the Baby Boomer generation, Mayberry was much more than the fictional North Carolina community portrayed in the 1960s hit TV series, The Andy Griffith Show.

It was a real place across thousands of small idyllic American communities during the 1950s-60s.

I grew up in “Mayberry” - the small town of Walterboro in the South Carolina Lowcountry, where we lived until I was twelve. It’s one of those times and places which, if you could do it all over, you wouldn’t change a thing.

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Our family was a relatively comfortable middle-class family during the 50s and 60s. Dad was the local substation manager for the power company. My Mom, like most in that day, was a stay-at-home mom.

I did all the things that small-town boys normally do - Played baseball, swam in the community pool, went to high school football games and Saturday matinees at the Cook Theater, daydreamed about girls, walked along the railroad tracks, and explored the creek close to our neighborhood for hours at a time.

Uptown consisted of about four blocks with the courthouse and Sheriff’s office, the newspaper building, the local bank, Still’s Barbershop, Hyatt’s Drugstore, the Red & White Grocery store, several small retailers, and two large department stores.

Happy Hadwin’s service station was just down the hill, close to the Ivanhoe bridge over Ireland Creek.

In a small town like ours, Church played a big part in life and heritage. It was our social life. Everyone I knew either went to our church or just a couple of others.

Sunday School, Church suppers, Mrs. Skardon’s youth choir, and Mrs. McCloud’s Ballroom Dancing lessons in the parish hall were all safe, happy places at that time in my life.

We rode our bicycles everywhere. There were only two hard and fast rules back then: “Respect your elders” (anyone older than us) and “Be home before dark”.

Everyone knew everyone for miles around, so the chances of “getting away with something” were slim. We were as likely to be disciplined by a neighbor or a friend’s mom as our own. Front doors were seldom locked. We felt safe.

Real-life Mayberry.

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Memories of Mayberry will take us on a slow drive through this idyllic era in the lives of millions of Baby Boomers and make a few stops along the way.

I hope you will tag along and enjoy the ride …

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Until next time, my friends - Thank you for subscribing to The Talking Pen, a creative writing site for fiction & non-fiction stories, poetry, art, and personal musings. While you’re here, check out my original ‘Stack: Life UnCorked, where we dive into the deep end of life from a Christian perspective.