Take lesson from past highway-widening impact

Although I'm too young to remember it (but not by much), when Folly Road and Savannah Highway were widened back in the late '50s and early '60s, people just assumed that this was the kind of thing that had to be done to accommodate progress and increased traffic demand. But the price paid in terms of beauty and natural scenery was plain and simply brutal, and people to this day still decry the desecration of live oak allees along either thoroughfare.

There are a few ghostly remnants of the allee in the West Ashley residential neighborhoods on Savannah Highway before the Automile, and one pathetic strip near the James Island connector on Folly Road. And — except for some rural property out toward Folly Beach — that's about it.

It got personal during the early 1970s, when, after returning for vacation from boarding school, I was shocked to see the impact of the widening project on Maybank. When we moved out to the Wappoo area in 1960, it was considered country and Maybank Highway was a relatively quiet venue draped by live oaks and Spanish moss. Ten years later, traffic density had increased fairly dramatically and there was raging talk about building a new James Island bridge of some sort.

When I came home (for spring vacation in '73, I think it was), practically all the familiar roadside arboreal landmarks were gone — pushed over, cut up, carted away and replaced by asphalt and cement. It was sickening, yet the changes were largely accepted with resignation because "something had to be done." (There were even plans to cut down all the magnolias lining the Municipal Golf Course, which, thankfully, never happened.)

The impact of all these projects from an aesthetic standpoint has been in perpetuity and, in a word, ugly. Whereas reforestation efforts in peninsular Charleston have been hugely successful, the widening projects mentioned above and elsewhere are keloids on greater Charleston's otherwise attractive complexion. Although businesses have been required to improve landscaping and signage, the damage has been done, and prospects for other meaningful enhancement/restoration don't appear very realistic.

As is now being suggested, including in letters to the editor, editorials and an analysis by P&C reporters, would it not be a good idea to at least try keeping most of Maybank Highway two lanes with a landscaped median in the middle? Traffic would be shunted away from key intersections by creating grid-like lattices, thus giving drivers any number of travel options. Such arrangements also would facilitate clusters of regionally appropriate development and possibly help curtail haphazard sprawl across the sylvan reaches of Johns Island.

The above approach has been successfully tried in other parts of the country. Certainly, it's preferable to the old way, involving the widening of Maybank Highway from two to five lanes, including a middle lane for turns (and possibly intermittent landscaping), which is exactly what happened on Folly Road, other parts of Maybank Highway and Savannah Highway. You can see what happened there, and you can easily imagine that the same will happen on Johns Island, thus contributing to the decline of a beautiful area once and for all. If truth be known, I'm almost as excited about the proposed widening as I am completing the 526 beltway, which, barring an unforeseen miracle, will do for Johns Island what it did for Mount Pleasant. Given that eventuality, I would suggest we simply rename the greater Charleston area Johns Pleasant.

Speaking of Johns, here's one more recollection of "Big John" Cannady, this time from a favorite and most loyal correspondent: Walter Duane, who says (in part), "Big John grew up around Carolina Street and played some on Mitchell playground. He had a brother who served on Charleston County police for many years. I met John's sister several times at Jimmy Dengate's tavern. She was rightfully proud of her brother.

"I frequented 'Big John's' many years ago. The reason of course was to shake my thirst and meet kindred souls. The tavern smelled like beer and was always full of smoke. An occasional small roach was seen walking on the bar. Nevertheless, it was a comfortable place for the young and restless.

" 'Big John' was affable most of the time but occasionally could be a bit testy. Since my clothing was always size small, I never put him to the test.

"John played with the New York Giants at the old Polo Grounds. It was later that the Giants moved to Yankee Stadium and then to New Jersey. John was on the team during Frank Gifford's early career. Gifford and his wife, Kathie Lee, were eventually TV personalities. Charlie Connerly was quarterback — a handsome man who later appeared on television for Pall Mall ads.

"John lived for a time at Folly Beach with his mother and later moved in over his business. We old timers have nostalgia for those halcyon days, but I'm not so sure we'd like those types of establishments now. 'Big John's' bar was not the Mermaid Tavern that Keats wrote about. As a matter of fact, in this country we have seldom captured the warmth found in English and Irish pubs.

"The closest indeed may have been Jimmy Dengate's on Rutledge Avenue. It was a place where the Fourth Estate (including Jack Roach and Basil Hall), politicians, professionals and erstwhile members mingled together. Other establishments have come along since but don't seem the same."

Edward M. Gilbreth is a Charleston physician. Reach him at edwardgilbreth@comcast.net.