Gibbes Street, between Lenwood Boulevard and Legare Street
Charleston is supposedly haunted by the spirits of many of our fore bearers. They traverse the night, cloaked in a dim white hue, signifying unjust deaths, cruelty, or messages left undelivered. Supposedly, mind you.
There is a particular spookiness associated with the American South, especially in its maritime regions. Some of it derives from a historic whimsy of isolation when compared to the more industrialized northern states, as well as the physical isolation of many tracts of land due to a labyrinth of waterways and swamps. Some of it derives from African culture and the distinctive beliefs of some European settling factions concerning the dead. But a lot of it is the aesthetics of the area’s built and natural environments. The pleasant private sanctuary of a residential garden may look inviting during the day but in the evening time, as moonlit intermingles with slowly swaying spanish moss behind formidable, ancient iron wrought fences, one cannot help but imagine the sinister.
The residents of the Charleston, particularly those South of Broad, have not resisted the opportunity to capitalize on the city’s stature in the ghostly realm and many have gone to (ridiculous but terrific) lengths to ensure their properties reflect all that is good and wicked about Halloween in the (un)Holy City.
Through the weekend, we’ll be posting some of the best examples of this Halloween fixation that we have discovered, but just be aware, there are so many more to view across the city. Like the Old City Jail, for starters.
