It had been a long time since I was there; nearly 40 years to be exact. As I trudged through the thick sand, along the path through what is now a Nature Preserve, memories began to flood my mind. I could hear the youthful laughter of teenagers, excitedly filing off of a bus as the warm summer wind blew sand in their eyes. I could hear the faint crashing of waves and even smell the salt in the thick air from that day so many years ago. I could feel the innocence of a life, not-yet-lived, that held limitless possibilities.
For a moment, I couldn’t help but smile.
As I pushed further away from the road where my wife and I had parked, and closer to where I knew I needed to go, I felt a deep pain within my soul. It was a pain that I had lived with throughout most of my life since that day. It shaped me into the person I became.
When I finally broke out of the trees and into the open, I had to stop for a moment to catch my breath. Walking through the sand was hard, but I’m in fairly good physical condition these days. No, I had to pause for a moment in order to fully absorb where I was standing… Lighthouse Inlet.
It looked different back then; it seemed vibrant and alive, at least on that day. But now, on this early weekday morning in early spring, it felt more like a graveyard.
In a way it was.
In the distance the Lighthouse stood as it always had; stoic, majestic and alone. The tallest edifice against an otherwise unblemished view of the Atlantic Ocean. I moved closer to the water to get a better look at it. I wouldn’t dare touch it, as if it just might reach out and suck me in. It appeared ominous, yet calm, but I knew better. It was a façade.
Just like it was years ago.
The Soul Patrol
In the summer of 1986, I was accepted into the Governor’s School Mini Session at the College of Charleston for “academically gifted,” rising 9th grade students. The program lasted two weeks and it was modeled after the established Governor’s School which lasted an entire month for rising seniors that was also held at the college.
I did not want to apply, but after some convincing from Mrs. McFadden and Mrs. Byron, I relented. I was shocked when I got accepted, because I wasn’t the smartest kid at our school by any means. I didn’t think I really stood a chance, but sure enough it happened.
I remembered my Daddy driving me down to the College to check-in. I was beyond excited. All that I could think of were the new friends I would soon make. My intuitions were right. My roommate, Dawson, was from Porter Gaud.
We instantly hit it off.
Within hours I met Marcus, Will, Alton, Joey, and Nick as well. Nick and Will were roommates. Erin, Tameca, and Kimmy would soon join our crew. That night we listened to Run DMC’s “Peter Piper” and talked forever.
When we weren’t in classes, learning about computer science and programming languages or some other pre-STEM curriculum, we were always together. We’d spend hours in the pool, diving off of the top diving board, and more hours in the gym playing pick-up games against college students and other Governor’s School participants. We dominated everyone.
Marcus was hands down the funniest of our crew. He and I were in the same classes, so we spent a lot of time together. At 13, he was already 6’ tall and close to 200 pounds. He could dunk a basketball and was excelling in football and basketball in Cheraw. He was destined to be a star; athletically and academically. Alton was a runner; always cool and laid back, yet smooth. Joey was sort of the pretty boy of our group. He was from Orangeburg and talked about OW (Orangeburg Wilkerson High School) constantly. Will was quiet and easy-going. He would quietly ease in and out of the group, but went everywhere that we all went. Nick, who I would build a lifelong friendship with, was very similar to me; loud, athletic, fun, and outgoing. Years later he would become one of South Carolina’s best basketball players and go on to play collegiately in Minnesota.
For that first week we were inseparable and the girls were always with us too.
We dubbed ourselves “The Soul Patrol” and Nick, who was also an incredible artist, would draw designs of our group’s name in his sketch pad.
We were from all over South Carolina, but in one week’s time, we grew so close in a way that only teenagers devoid of social media distractions and communication overload from the outside world could.
Our lives would soon change.
Sunday
Marcus and I were the two sons of ministers and as such, we were the only 2 from The Soul Patrol, who did not go to church that morning. Instead we sat in my room talking. Kimmy was there as well.
“I should’ve gone to church.” Marcus repeated this maybe 5 times, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him to cut it out and let it go. We were going to have fun that day. Eventually he brushed it off. In truth I think I felt guilty too and just didn’t need him to make me feel any worse.
We were waiting for the rest of our boys to get back from church so that we could all go on the social excursion that day to Folly Beach. The day before, we had gone to Sullivan’s Island and it was a blast. We spent hours jumping waves and swimming in the warm ocean; building stronger bonds between us all.
All of us went except for Marcus and Curt.
They couldn’t swim and I imagine their parents had told them to stay away from the beach. After hearing about all of the fun that we had and not wanting to miss out they both decided they would go with us all to Folly Beach, after church.
As we rode on the hot bus to Folly, the excitement was palpable. The bus buzzed with a thousand conversations all going on at once. Oddly enough we had to run to the bus to make it on time and Marcus and I were the last two to get on the bus. We were forced to sit in separate seats, away from each other and our friends.
We got off the bus and eagerly began that walk to the beach. Within minutes we were in the water; innocently jumping waves. Playing games and being teenagers.
“I can’t touch the bottom.” I pointed this out as the group of us sort of felt this tug pulling us out into deeper water. Seconds before, we had been wading in waist-deep water. Now we were struggling to stay afloat. I don’t remember who was there other than Nick.
Unbeknownst to us, we had stepped off of the underwater “cliff” in the Inlet and had been swept out by the riptide and swirling currents. Even for a strong swimmer like me, it was scary. None of us spent that much time swimming at the beach, so we were naïve and inexperienced with this. I just remember thinking that “I can’t die here. My family will be devastated.”
At one point I got too tired to keep swimming. I let myself sink down but there was no bottom. For a brief moment I contemplated my next move. I quickly swam back up to the surface and all I remember is seeing Alton, who was maybe 50 feet away from me, standing up near where we had all been pushed into the current. He looked exhausted and traumatized. I called for him to help me, but he was frozen.
Nick seemed to appear out of nowhere and together we encouraged each other. On the beach it seemed, no one had any idea what we were going through. I thought about the irony of the fact that yards away a fisherman was fishing, but his line couldn’t do anything to save me or Nick. Nor did he even realize what was going on. We literally swam until our stomachs rubbed the beach sand. All we could do was lie in the sand and try and catch our breaths.
Then the sudden reality of it all hit us. Tameca, Erin, and Dawson were still out in the water. One of our peers, Whit, from Myrtle Beach was heroically saving them. Someone swam out to help him with a chilled cooler and eventually he brought Erin and Tameca back in. He was too tired to get Dawson, but someone else had stepped in and helped.
The next few minutes can only be described as sheer panic. The Soul Patrol knew what was wrong, but no one would believe us.
Marcus and Will were missing.
In the hours that followed, we collectively struggled to make sense of it all. We verbally hoped that somehow Marcus and Will would be found together somewhere on the beach; hanging out, because they had wandered too far away. I knew this couldn’t be true, because I had seen Marcus in the water. He was playing by himself in the shallows. I told him to come out to chest deep water with me and he emphatically told me “No.” Then cracked some jokes. I swam away, not realizing I would never see him again. Alton was distraught. He had actually seen Marcus drowning, but couldn’t do anything to help him. Nick and I kept saying if we had known while we were in the water, maybe we could’ve saved him. Or Will. Or both of them.
We walked from the College of Charleston to the Battery and down by what is now Riley Park. We cried and walked back, unsure of what we were supposed to say or do. Our young bravado was all that we knew back then, but in hindsight all it really did was suppress emotional scars for years.
Later that evening we got word that Will and Marcus had in fact been found. Their bodies had been discovered by divers not far from where we had all been swimming.
The days that followed were mostly a blur. I’m not sure what I felt or how any of us felt. We had faced our own mortality and in the midst of it lost two of our friends. We were only 13 and 14 year-olds.
When Marcus’s and Will’s parents came to get their belongings later that evening, we were there. They were too emotionally distraught for us to even speak to them. I kept my distance and watched Will’s father leading his mother back to the car in the garage. For years I could hear their painful please and cries. It was heartbreaking.
Closure
As I stood there on the beach in 2019, remnants of their anguish echoed in my mind. That was the first traumatic death that I had dealt with in my life back then, but it wouldn’t be my last. Still, I had sworn I would never come back to Lighthouse Inlet and for 33 years I hadn’t. I wasn’t afraid of the place. I just felt like I didn’t need to come back. That was precisely the reason that I needed to return though.
My wife watched me from the dunes. She knew that I needed my moment.
I didn’t know what I would feel. I stared across the water’s surface and watched as two fishermen cast their lines from the shore. Though this place looked desolate and abandoned, it was still a gem for some. I thought about our group of friends and wondered what they all might be up to. Nick and I had managed to reconnect on social media after losing contact right after high school. Luckily, Erin and I had also recently reconnected. The rest of our group had disappeared. I wondered if they too had lingering thoughts of that and how it affected them.
As I stood there, facing my one time foe, I thought about Marcus and Will and then I did what I was unable to do so many years ago: I said “Goodbye.” No magical rainbow appeared and the water didn’t ripple or show me some sort of heavenly sign, but I knew their souls heard me. I took one last look at the place that had changed my life forever, and then quietly turned back and walked towards my wife.
“We can go now,” I said. We began the walk back to our car and soon our conversation shifted to our plans for that day.
I would never need to return.
Author’s note: Dedicated to the memories of W.W. and C.B.
Editor’s Note: All names have been changed.
Ayinde Moir Waring is a writer who lives in
Los Angeles, Calif., with his wife and three sons.
Don’t turn your back on the power of the ocean
While it’s important at the beach to be careful about sunburns, jellyfish, bruises and more, experts say you need to respect the power of the ocean and be extra cautious when near it.
In a 2022 guide to Lowcountry beach safety, former City Paper staffer Chris Dixon implored beachgoers to never turn their backs on the ocean because of multiple dangers. He noted how dangerous rip currents can pull you away from the beach. From his report:
- Ride the current outside of breakers or swim parallel to the shore to escape a rip currentRip currents are created either by wave energy or longshore currents (that run parallel to the beach) pushing up against piers and jetties. Rips are likely to be much stronger right alongside piers or jetties. In wave-spawned rips, water is pushed ashore by waves then funneled back out to sea. Look for a stream of choppy, more turbid water.
- Flip on your back. If you’re pushed out in a rip, relax, flip on your back face-up and float or swim to ride the current out while swimming parallel to shore. Angle for the beach when it’s safe — anywhere safe will do. Rips cannot exist everywhere. Eventually the current will release its grip and you can swim in.
- Ride the current. If you’re amidst waves, dive beneath them and swim, riding the current until outside of breakers, then rest and regroup and swim in, or float outside and wave for help.
- Avoid tidal channels. The calm-looking waters at the ends of our barrier island beaches can look inviting. But these are the spots where tidal currents can be far stronger than you can swim. Avoid them.
- Keep a close eye on children near the water. A child can drown in the time it takes to reply to a text, according to the American Red Cross. Suggestion: Have a designated adult “water watcher” to focus on children and weak swimmers in the water. The Red Cross advises that children take swimming lessons and always wear lifejackets.
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