I have walked today along the aged stone parapet of the first South Carolina Prison, built in 1866. It was demolished several years ago and what remains is a tall wall of great rustic granite blocks rising above the Columbia Canal and the Congaree River. There is a grassy open field lined with benches high over the waters and on the other side more granite blocks lining the walk. In the middle of the grassy field is a series of five fountains built into a stone basin, gurgling up into the Spring air.
It is a short stroll from here to the Vista, a repurposed old down town neighborhood of art galleries, antique stores, restaurants and businesses.
Or you can go down a series of steps beside the old brick facade of the prison (someone has written in paint:
"Trust No Hoes") to the Canal Riverfront Park. Here there are Hollies and Laurel and many crape myrtles planted in memory of loved ones. Jasmine, the State flower, and azaleas are blooming.
There is something about the huge granite slabs that held the prisoners in, that is redolent of the dark deeds that brought men here and of the dark deeds housed within.
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