My Mention In Article “Low Country Root Doctors”

drbuzzardjars

Some people who have my personal email know that I go by the handle, Dr. Buzzard. Although I ease people minds when I tell them I’m merely a conjurer of story magic and not dark magic. Dr. Buzzard was the most historically famous Root Doctor in The Low Country South until the novel, Midnight In The Garden of Good and Evil came along and made Lady Minerva, an aquaintance of Dr. Buzzard, more internationally known. Even if they were really operating on two opposite ends of the 20th Century more or less so they each have their own distinctions. And strangely were described as being married in the novel itself even if that was just fiction. Minerva was married to Buzzard’s rival is my understanding, either called Dr. Eagle or Dr Hawk. They always have great names like that. In my lifetime I’ve met Dr. Gregory, Dr. Frog and Mama Tilda who was 102 when we met and was the dream interpreter of the people on St Helena’s Island, SC. I also have in my personal collection some very important root doctor artifacts from very important famlies of that trade, and my prized possession is one cobalt blue pair of Dr. Buzzard’s spectacles given to me by a man who knew his family and purchased some of his belongings. As I tell people, if my house was on fire and I could run out with one thing, it would be Dr. Buzzard’s pimp’n looking specs! The article by my friend Beverly Willett was originally slated to have photos of a ritual I discovered in Bonaventure and dismantled after a year right before the city workers trashed it. I knew I had to preserve it to teach others about their culture. In the end, the photoshoot where mosquitoes ate at me for awhile was a bust, but was glad the article turned out so colorful and yeah, I got a little nod . One day I’ll share more of my own adventures with root doctors and consider the inclusion good juju for my directional mojo!

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Low Country Root Doctors by Beverly Willett

The Long Cane Indian Massacre, C.1760

If you’re ever driving up 221 from Augusta to McCormick, SC and you see a brown arrow sign with a tantalizing, “Long Cane Indian Massacre Site?” If you should follow it? Better have 4 Wheel Drive. What sounds like just a jiffy up the road is actually the longest, weirdest gravel dirt road in all of the woods of these here parts. You’ll also drive over 2 rather rickety old wooden bridges praying your vehicle doesn’t plunge below. But if that’s just your cup of tea? Then you may (optimal word here), just find a surreal and tragic place in the middle of nowhere that holds the remains of 23 women and children butchered by Cherokee who felt that the camp of 260 settlers was just too close to them 40 miles away. But when warning arrived, they felt it would be wise to track to Augusta for safer living. Unfortunately there was the dreaded bog in which their wagon became stuck and camping for the night was their undoing. There were 56 fighting men on hand but when The Cherokee assailed? The gun wagon was too far from them and after 30 minutes of fighting with what they could, a hasty retreat was made. Crazily, 9 children survived being scalped to the pleasure of some wig maker in Augusta I might think, but 23 women and children remained behind. Among them? The 76 year old grandmother of none other than John C. Calhoun (All Southerners must stand and bow for a moment of silence). Calhoun placed the etched marker himself to commemorate the spot. And if you do find it? You walk over a little metal foot bridge and stand among 100ft pines and it is so remote all there is in this place is the sound of wind whipping by you and through the treetops. Not a bird, not a squirrel. Just wind and it feels like spirits at war and even during the day, like screams all around you that you can’t truly hear, but you feel the force from the beyond clawing at your soul. I’m just glad it was the daytime.20161010_013819 20161010_014650 20161010_015056 20161010_015327 20161010_015534 20161010_015655