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Enjoy this full chapter about working on Monkey Island, from Jeff's newest book. Monkey Farm: A Summer Among the Macaques  Audiobook: Libby Libro.fm Spotify Amazon  Audible  Apple Books  Google Play  Kobo  Barnes and Noble eBook (DRM-free): Bookshop.org  Kobo  Kindle Barnes and Noble  Canadian friends: I set the retail price at par - $10CAD and $10USD. Anything more is bullshit. Keep looking if a site (like Amazon) is charging exchange rate.  It's the least I can do to make up for our bad behavior down here.  International (list created with gemini):  Rakuten Kobo (Global / Ireland) E-Book (EPUB 3) Ireland / European Union €8.99 Retail / Pre-order Rakuten Kobo Ireland Listing   Rakuten Kobo (Belgium / French) Digital Audiobook Belgium / France Direct Purchase Rakuten Kobo Belgium Audio Listing   Rakuten Kobo (Netherlands) E-Book Netherlands Direct Purchase Rakuten Kobo Netherlands Listing   Rakuten Kobo (Denmark) E-Book Denmark Direct Purchase Rakuten Kobo Denmark Listing   Rakuten Kobo (Turkey) E-Book Turkey Direct Purchase Rakuten Kobo Turkey Listing   Rakuten Kobo (Belgium / Dutch) E-Book Belgium Direct Purchase Rakuten Kobo Belgium Dutch Listing   Booktopia E-Book Australia Direct Purchase (AUD) Booktopia Product Listing   Storytel (Indonesia Storefront) Digital Audiobook Global / Southeast Asia Monthly Subscription Streaming Storytel Indonesia Listing   Storytel (France Storefront) Digital Audiobook France / Europe Monthly Subscription Streaming Storytel France Listing   Storytel (Iceland Storefront) Digital Audiobook Iceland Monthly Subscription Streaming Storytel Iceland Listing   Bol.com Digital Audiobook Netherlands / Belgium Kobo Plus Subscription / Purchase Bol.com Product Listing   Rakuten Books Japan Digital E-Book Japan Direct Purchase (JPY) Rakuten Japan Product Listing   Nextory E-Book & Audiobook Switzerland / Europe Monthly Subscription Streaming Nextory Product Listing The full chapter follows, enjoy and let me know what you think... Chapter 11 - Monkey Island My summer among the macaques ended with a hangover, fresh stitches and a new tattoo. The story of how that happened began before dawn at a boat dock on Saint Helena Sound.  The skills I'd acquired at the Yemassee clinic, specifically treating lacerations and fight wounds, had qualified me to work on Morgan Island when needed. The Monkey Farm maintained a colony of rhesus macaques on the island under a contract with the government. The macaques had been relocated to South Carolina from a government breeding facility in Puerto Rico fifteen years prior, after monkeys carrying the Herpes-B virus escaped into the community.  After my boss recommended me to the Morgan Island team, the occupational health lab tested me for tuberculosis and hepatitis. The monkeys on the island were disease-free, and the humans who worked there were screened to make sure they didn't infect the animals. The lab also re-tested me for Herpes-B virus, carried by many of the macaques I worked with. Herpes-B was harmless to the monkeys, but could kill me. The re-test confirmed I hadn't been infected by an accidental needle stick the month before. After I stuck myself with that used needle, I rushed back to the clinic and scrubbed the wound with iodine and a stiff brush for ten minutes, then flushed the wound with water for another twenty minutes. Either the monkey hadn't carried B virus or the infection-control procedure worked. Good news! With blood tests out of the way, I was given the dates I would work on Morgan Island and instructions to take the morning boat from Eddings Point. My boss dictated directions. "Take the Carteret Street bridge from Beaufort on the mainland to Lady's Island. Continue on the Sea Island Parkway. Pass Datha, Distant, Warsaw and Polawana Islands. Keep going on to Saint Helena Island. Turn left on Eddings Point Road, go a couple miles across the causeway to Eddings Point Landing. Boat leaves at 6:30 am sharp. Be early because they'll leave you at the dock if you're one minute late." A winding pre-dawn drive across the archipelago of Saint Helena Sound got me to the dock just after 6:00 am. A car and two pickup trucks were already parked in an oyster shell lot between the narrow causeway and the salt marsh. The trucks lit the marsh with their headlights. The beams followed a walkway of planks laid between pilings out to open water where I could just make out a boat tied to a floating dock. Three people I'd never met were ferrying boxes of supplies and bags of Purina Monkey Chow from the trucks to the boat. I got out of my own truck with a duffel bag holding my coveralls and boots. Unsure what do do next, I went and stood next to the walkway, thinking maybe I could help. The three men ignored me as they sleepily went about their stevedoring.  The veterinarian I was to assist that day climbed out of a nearby station wagon and trudged slowly over, a bag similar to mine slung over her shoulder. We exchanged sleepy good mornings. She wore a dark knit watch cap. It was September, and the air was thankfully cool after a shatteringly hot Lowcountry August. That heat pushed me down with a heavy weight from dawn to dusk. It was hardest in coveralls, boots and a mask, but even on my days off I stayed indoors in the air conditioning. That August was the first time in my life I didn't want to go outside, even to swim since the body temperature water did nothing to cool me down. Thankfully, September broke the spell. That morning the breeze off the salt marsh was brisk and fresh. We stayed out of the way while the crew finished loading the boat. The one in charge, a big man I hadn't met, turned off the headlights in one, then the other truck. Big Man motioned to us to follow as he crossed the walkway to join the two people already on the boat. His heavy steps made the planks bounce gently between the pilings. I stepped down a short ramp from the fixed walkway to the floating dock. I followed the veterinarian who had already climbed aboard the boat.  Free from the glare of headlights, my eyes started to adjust to the pre-dawn light. The simple workboat was sturdily built of white fiberglass. It had a windshield on top of a tiny cabin in the bow. The steering wheel and throttle were mounted next to a ship's compass bolted to the top of the cabin. The letters and numbers of the compass glowed from a soft yellow light inside the compass housing. I could see that we were pointed roughly north. The inboard motor repeated a quiet rumble under an engine box piled with supplies. Big Man quickly untied the lines, bow and stern, and climbed into the boat to take the wheel.  He pushed the throttle forward and spun the wheel to the left. The boat rose smoothly on plane as we motored into Jenkins Creek. My eyes now fully adjusted, I could see the glow of sunrise build in the sky to our right, and there was enough ambient light to see our surroundings. We looked up at the top of tall marsh grass speeding by on either side of the Creek. Five months earlier in May, the grass was a green fringe barely above the tidal marshes at the confluence of the Ashepoo, Combahee, and Edisto rivers. The three rivers gave their water and their names to the ACE Basin, a pristine 350,000 acre nursery estuary in Saint Helena Sound.  Smack dab in the middle of the ACE Basin sat Morgan Island, the only completely undeveloped island in the estuary. Undeveloped, but not uninhabited.  The others on the boat didn't say much as we wound through the creeks and rivers on our way to Morgan Island. Between the early hour and the routine of what was regular duty for everyone else, I was left to watch and wonder. We shot out of Jenkins Creek into the wider Morgan River then turned east. Our bow was pointed toward the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean beyond. The top edge of the sun broke above the watery horizon. A dorsal fin broke the surface of the water in front and to the right of the boat. A shark! No, sharks don't surf. It was a porpoise. The sleek marine mammal caught a ride on the wave of water pushed aside by our bow until we turned to head north up Parrot Creek next to Morgan Island.  Morgan Island is technically six square miles, but only one square mile is high and dry. The rest is marsh. We motored in a long clockwise loop around the island's northern perimeter. At a buoy with a flashing green light, we turned south into the mouth of an unnamed tidal creek that led to the interior. After ten minutes winding through the creek, Big Man pulled back on the throttle. The boat slowed and we putted slowly toward the forested upland of Morgan Island. I pushed to the front of the cockpit to spot the throngs of free-range macaques that must've been gathered on shore to greet us. But weren't. Instead, a sleepy woman took our lines and tied our boat to a simple wooden pier that jutted out of bushes and trees that lined the shore beyond. A second boat was tied up on the other side of the dock, nearly identical to ours but older and more weathered. It was covered in morning dew and had been there all night. The veterinarian motioned me to climb out so the crew could unload. The tide crested during the trip out, so it was a short step up from the boat to the dock. We carried our duffel bags down the dock, walking alongside the woman who'd come to meet us. She wore the dark blue coveralls of an animal care technician. She seemed to wake up and nodded a greeting to me.  "Welcome to Monkey Island son! I'm Dianne, you're in for a big day today!" I still didn't know what I was in for, only that my clinical skills had improved to the point where I could 'go out to Morgan for census.' The low morning sun lit the dock, but it was still dark under the trees on shore. I stepped off the pier onto the island proper. The ground was sand mixed with bits of dry organic matter fallen from a dense canopy above. When we stepped into the shadows of the trees we also stepped onto a dense mat of dead leaves, palmetto fronds, and pine needles. The branches of the pine and live oak trees above interlocked with each other to provide support against strong ocean winds. This mesh of branches was a distinguishing characteristic of the island's maritime forest. A perfect habitat for the rhesus macaques I had yet to see.  We walked up a trail to a decrepit cabin with a low, sagging metal roof. A tall radio antenna shot straight up from the peak of the roof. It's thin outline was visible against the large white plastic tank of an improvised water tower behind the cabin. The cabin itself was painted a drab light brown that blended with the forest. More so because the paint peeled up in places as if to mimic leaves. A screened porch spanned the front of the building. Through its dusty screen I could see an old plaid couch and a worn yellow vinyl recliner. The veterinarian stepped on to the porch through a crooked screen door. I followed her past the junky furniture through a weathered wood doorframe into the cabin. Its old door was propped open by a rusty metal bucket full of sand bristling with cigarette butts. Most of the cabin was one big room. A slightly less decrepit couch and recliner stood against the back wall next to a kitchen area that held a round wooden table and a few matching chairs.  A makeshift office area was to the right of the door. A dented gray metal desk under a cracked sliding glass window held a serious looking two-way shortwave radio set. A thick wire snaked out of the window to the antenna on the roof. The transmitter was surrounded by stacks of paperwork and binders. Above it was a map of the island marked with circles and squares. To the left, open doors led to two small bedrooms on either side of a bathroom. An ancient toilet, the kind with a long chain dangling from a tank on the wall was visible through the bathroom door. The place looked and felt like a remote ranger station on a wildlife preserve, which it sort of was.  A weathered man who could've been forty or sixty sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee. He looked up from a piece of paper on the clipboard in front of him as the veterinarian walked over.  "Mornin' doc. I see you brought the new kid. Hey kid, I'm Jack. Well, I went out this morning and another ten monkeys jumped in the corral last night. That makes 182. Looked like about a third don't have tattoos, but I couldn't get an exact count." Jack's voice held the soft lilt acquired by someone who'd lived here for a while, but wasn't from the Deep South. The veterinarian acknowledged his update and told me to go into the bathroom and change into boots and coveralls. I came out to find Jack gone from the cabin and the vet in her coveralls waiting for me by the door. We walked out to where two of the crew from the boat stood with Diane and Jack between a couple of ancient vehicles I hadn't noticed earlier. The sun shone through the trees on an ancient flat-fender jeep. I loved it at first sight. Either Army surplus or an early civilian model. It was protected from the salt air by multiple coats of whatever leftover paint had been on hand at the time. Where the last coat of beige flaked off, I could see light orange and hints of robins egg blue beneath that. Its windshield frame was long gone. A hole gaped where one headlight had fallen out. There was no roll bar or rear seat. Stuffing poked through the cracked vinyl upholstery of a driver's seat behind a wide metal steering wheel. The passenger had to make do with an old couch cushion set on the floor of the vehicle. A surplus Army trailer painted the same leftover kaleidoscope was hitched to the jeep. It's pickup truck-sized bed held boxes of veterinary supplies.  The other vehicle was an old pickup truck so dented and rusted I couldn't tell you more about it. I admired it anyway. As I stood wondering at the make of the truck, a movement back by the jeep caught my eye. I had to stare for a moment before I could spot the young adult rhesus macaque. He crept across the forest floor, halfway to the jeep trailer from the nearest tree trunk. Big Man was in a nearby storage shed even more decrepit than the cabin, where he stowed the last of the supplies from the boat. Everyone else had their backs to the monkey. The macaque crept steadily closer to the trailer, eyes wide, mouth open. I didn't know any better so I just watched. When he got to the trailer, he stood on his hind legs and peered over the side. A hand darted out and snatched a packet of sterile gauze just as Big Man came out of the shed, saw him and yelled. "Yo! Monkey! Git!"  The macaque streaked away from the trailer in a three-legged dash, the white paper packet of gauze held to his chest with one hand. I continued to stare dumbly as the other four turned around and watched the thief disappear up into the tree canopy. Big Man chuckled as he walked toward our group.  "That one's still at it, huh? Guess he didn't jump into the corral last night."  I finally found my words and asked if that was something to look out for the rest of the day.  Big Man replied. "Not really. Every so often one of 'em gets more curious than scared and hangs around the cabin. They love to get their hands on anything new and different, so the census trailer is better 'n bananas. No big deal so long as they don't steal anything sharp. You put the syringes and scissors on the bottom, right Jack?" Jack nodded, a smile on his face. Big Man stopped next to Jack who handed him a clipboard. Big Man started the morning briefing. He introduced me as Jeff, there to help the veterinarian. No other introductions as everyone knew everyone except me and it was clear I was the vet's problem.   "Ok, me and Karl are on island the next three nights. Jack and Dianne are good to stay overtime this morning, but'll take the day boat back this afternoon as soon as we're finished with census. Dianne, how's everything doing?" "Batteries are at eighty percent this morning, generator ran fine last evening. Propane is good, water tank's three quarters full, next water delivery in a week. The water transfer pump is still on the fritz, but I know what part it needs and'll pick that up before I'm out here next. Did a radio check this morning with Yemassee. Y'all brought plenty of food so you're good for three days." He nodded his thanks, then looked down at the clipboard.  "Ok, Monkeys are in Corral C on the southwest side of the island. As of Jack's final check this morning, a total of 182 animals jumped in over two days." He flipped the top sheet over and went through a checklist on the second page. "Ok, cages, sawhorses and plywood are already staged out at the corral. Lights, scales and measuring tapes are in the pickup. So are census records, tattoo equipment and portable generators. Trailer's loaded with vet supplies, gauntlets, and gloves." He looked at his watch, then at us.  "It's 7:45, we need to set up by 8:30 so we can census all 180 macaques before noon. 1:00 at the latest if there are hiccups. It's cool now, but the temp is gonna get into the eighties later this afternoon. We don't wanna add heat to the stress they're already under. No breaks, lunch after, ok? Everyone good?" Heads nodded, mine included even though I didn't know what would come next.  "Ok, boat crew with me in the truck, last night's island crew in the jeep. We'll go on ahead and set up." Big Man looked at me and the veterinarian. "Y'all walk and meet us there. Take the loop trail and you can't miss it. We'll have your station set up by the time you get there. " I was bummed to not get a ride in the old Army jeep. As I watched it pull away down the rough trail, it bounced over a deep rut. The jeep's rear corner hopped violently because the leaf spring was broken and the body sat hard on the rear axle. Maybe a walk in the woods was better.  The veterinarian used the walk to fill me in. Our black rubber boots were nearly silent on sand mixed with pine needles as we walked next to a rutted vehicle trail that looped around the perimeter of the island. The veterinarian started with background. "Pretty crazy place, huh? The government put a breeding colony of 1,400 rhesus macaques on this island in the 80's. It's more than self-sustaining because now there're about 3,000 of them. I say 'about' because they live free-range in dozens of social groups. There's no way to do a complete count when they roam freely over hundreds of acres. There are four corrals around the island, A, B, C and D. We do census in March, June, September and December. The island staff bait one of the corrals with fruit and biscuits for two days. Monkeys living in the area jump down into the corral for fruit and can't climb back out. Take today's census. 182 macaques jumped into Corral C. We treat that group as a sample from all the monkeys living on the island. Then we use statistics to estimate the total population." She looked up from the ground ahead to see if I followed. I nodded in understanding. "Ok, great. During the census today, the staff will inspect, weigh and measure each monkey that jumped into the corral. Every monkey with a chest tattoo has its own census chart in a binder where its weight and such are recorded each time it's captured. If a monkey doesn't have a tattoo, it means it's never been seen in the census. The animal gets a tattoo and a new census chart with its first weight, length, sex, age and health exam. When it's caught again in a future census, its information is recorded on the same chart. Get why it's called a census?" I got it. The official census in the United States worked sort of the same way. Every ten years, census takers go door to door in a neighborhood and record a bunch of information. Not every door, but enough to create a reliable sample. Experts then do the math to estimate the population of the neighborhood, the state and the whole country. I said as much to the veterinarian.  "Yes! Exactly! Now, I'm not involved because this is primatology stuff, but as I understand it, data we gather today is sent to Yemassee to be entered into the computer database. From that the population on the island gets estimated pretty accurately. Growth and especially replacement rate too, because animals are shipped out to supply federal research labs." I followed what she was saying, but had questions. I asked if the monkeys ever escaped from the island, and most important to me, why I was there.  "Escapes happen but they're rare. Macaques swim, but don't like to cross open water. They're often on the beach or in the marsh hunting for crabs. If they see something floating out in the water their curiosity means they might swim out to it. They've been spotted riding tangled up mats of marsh grass. One was spotted floating on a tree trunk that fell from the island in a storm."  The image of an adventurous monkey riding a floating log made me smile. That was one theory for how the remote Galapagos Islands were populated by tortoises and iguanas.  We walked past a big corral situated on the inland side of the vehicle trail. A big letter "D" was stenciled in black spray paint on the galvanized metal wall. A huge set of double doors stood open on one end. The corral was empty except for a few broken branches and a feeder stand. We were closer to our destination at Corral C. The veterinarian walked a bit faster while she explained my duties for the census.  "When the monkeys jump into the baited corral, they come from different family groups. The  monkeys today could be from five, six different troops. That means they're gonna fight. You're here to treat fight wounds. I'll check the animals for disease, teeth issues, joint problems, skin conditions and reproductive health. The rest of the crew will tattoo, weigh, measure and update census charts in the binders. If there aren't many fight wounds, you're gonna work the tattoo table. How's that sound?" That sounded intense but doable. Except for the tattoo part. I told her I knew nothing about tattoos. She smiled and reassured me that if I could stitch up three layers of tissue I could use a tattoo gun.  Now I understood why the head vet complimented my suture technique by telling me I was ready to go out to the island. I was going to be a field medic that morning. But one macaque at a time was one thing. 180 was quite another, especially with the time pressure I could sense building in the operation. The dull gray metal of another corral appeared through the trees ahead. So did a flurry of human activity. I inhaled sharply and felt my eyes grow wide in a surge of nervous anticipation.  **** Corral C stood on the southwest side of the island in an area dense with pine trees instead of the mix of oaks elsewhere. The trees were mature, two or more feet thick at the base. Their ramrod-straight trunks were spaced wide apart like columns in a giant warehouse. The trunks supported an interlocked roof of pine needles above. The ground was covered in a thick, uniform mat of fallen pine needles. The forest was shadowy and mysterious. A complete lack of underbrush indicated we would stay in the shade even when the sun was high overhead.   The low light combined with the sound-deadening effect of the pine forest made the scene next to the corral surreal. The island crew moved through the quiet, dim woods with a quick economy of motion, feet silent on the carpet of pine needles. They had just finished setting up the census equipment and were returning boxes and crates to the truck and trailer parked off to one side.  A single long table stretched between the tree trunks. The table was made of four foot by eight foot sheets of plywood laid across a row of tall sawhorses. The table stood above my waist, chest high on the shorter members of the crew. The veterinarian led me toward one end of the table.  Mobile exam lights were clamped to the end closest to us, off for now. 25 yards away at the opposite end of the table, a row of three ring binders stood upright like books on a shelf. Hanging scales were suspended from a metal bar mounted above the table next to a collection of measuring tapes and a stack of metal clipboards. Electric hair clippers and a half dozen ink-stained electric tattoo guns were plugged into a long industrial power strip in the middle of the table. A thick yellow extension cord ran from the power strip to portable generators off among the trees. The veterinarian stepped up to the section of table under the lights. It was covered in a sheet of translucent plastic. A crate held dozens of clipboards, each with a blank form. A wire mesh basket held two dozen 100 milliliter bottles of ketamine. Boxes of 50 milliliter syringes stood next to the basket. 50 milliliters was bigger than I was used to for injectables. The veterinarian checked over her section of the table and directed me to do the same the next section over.  "Ok Jeff, I'll do triage here under the lights, you'll be right next door treating fight wounds. If there's something you can't handle, or that needs both of us, I'll step over. I want you to make sure your table has all the supplies we use in the operating room back in Yemassee. You think anything's missing, you tell me."  My section held a neat arrangement of clinical supplies, already laid out by the island crew. Boxes of sterile surgical gloves in white paper wrappers. Squeeze bottles of iodine, alcohol and sterile water. A pile of blue and white absorbent pads. A deep stainless steel tray held scalpels, surgical scissors, clamps and forceps submerged in alcohol. Boxes of different kinds of individually-wrapped sutures, needle threaded and ready to go in each handy packet. Bottles of injectable antibiotics and one milliliter syringes. A dozen tubes of topical antibiotic ointment. Electric hair clippers plugged into the power strip the next section over. The island team didn't miss a thing as far as I could tell. In fact, I noticed there were many multiples of each item, more than could possibly be required. The redundancy held for the rest of the equipment. Six tattoo guns, two lights, two scales, two generators. We were a fifteen minute drive away from the base camp. An hour by boat and car from Yemassee. Census of 180 monkeys had to happen in four hours or less. Once we started, we couldn't afford to have something break. I shared my realization with the veterinarian who walked me through what was going to happen.  "Yeah, you got it. Once this train leaves the station it doesn't stop for any reason. Monkeys'll get run into the cages. You chemically restrain 'em two cages at a time. Once they're unconscious, the crew'll bring em over to me for triage and a health exam. You'll stitch up any fight wounds I find. We pass them to tattoo, then they get weighed, measured, and charted. I'll tell you when to anesthetize the next two cages. We don't stop until we're through all 182." I looked at the long table again. It made more sense. The table was an assembly line for the census process. Clinical evaluation under the lights at one end, then on to stitches, tattoos, weight, height, and record keeping at the other end.  "You focus first on anesthetizing monkeys when I tell you, second on treating any fight wounds. Fresh sterile gloves for every monkey, do your best to maintain a sterile field but we're out here in the woods so… be practical. There'll be a ton of activity around you, so don't get distracted. Ok, looks like it's go time."  I followed her gaze to where Jack stood next to Corral C. I'd barely noticed the corral while I took in the census assembly line. Next to Jack, one end of a long line of metal cages was bolted to the corral wall. The cages were attached end to end in a single row that extended about fifty yards from the hatch in the corral into the trees. Each rectangular cage was about two feet tall, eighteen inches wide, and three feet long. A pair of vertically-sliding metal doors at the junction between the cages stood open. With the doors between the cages lifted up into the open position, the row of cages formed a fifty yard long continuous tunnel, one end secured to the hatch into the corral, the other end closed off.  With a nod from Jack, Dianne pulled the starter cord on a generator. It roared to life with one pull and she walked back toward the census table. As the electricity began to flow, both exam lights came on. An electric hair trimmer buzzed and vibrated on the tattoo table, its switch stuck in the on position. I quickly stepped over and turned it off. The veterinarian and I readied ourselves by putting on blue rubber exam gloves. She told me to set up the ketamine.  "Fill a syringe so you're ready. Check the concentration on the bottle, should be 10 milligrams of ketamine in every milliliter. I know you know this, but we always cross check right? Dose at 10 milligrams of ketamine per kilogram of body weight. That means one milliliter of ketamine in the syringe for every kilogram the monkey weighs. No time to change needles between animals, administer multiple doses from the same syringe. Every macaque on the island has an identical serotype, they all carry the same viruses. Watch your technique, you don't want a needle stick all the way out here."  As I drew 40 milliliters of ketamine into each of two big syringes, Big Man walked to the closed-off end of the cage tunnel. He walked back toward the corral, double-checking the cage-to-cage connections. When he got to Jack, he looked at his watch, then over at the rest of us where we stood by our stations. He yelled over the noise of the generator. "Ok! Everybody ready?" I nodded and assumed the rest of the team did too because Big Man nodded at Jack. Jack reached down and grabbed a loop of rope on the hatch in the corral wall. He jerked it and the hatch slid straight up. Now there was an opening from the corral into the tunnel of cages. For a moment nothing happened. Then a single monkey shot through the hatch and ran down the cage tunnel at full speed.  Three heartbeats later, the remaining 181 monkeys streamed through the hatch in a continuous head-to-tail line. The hole in the side of the corral was their way out, they had no idea it led to confinement instead of the forest. The metal cages rattled from the force of this freight train of monkeys running as fast as they could down the tunnel. When the macaque leading the train reached the end of the line, he came to a stop next to the solitary monkey that ran out first. The rest piled up behind them, shoving them together into an awkward embrace. The momentum of the monkey train pressed the 182 macaques into a solid column of red fur, limbs, and angry faces. The rattle of metal on metal stopped as suddenly as it started. Jack pushed the hatch closed to cut off the possibility of retreat back into the corral. He and Big Man gently pushed the sliding doors closed at each junction between cages, sometimes giving quiet encouragement to the monkeys to "get out of the way." When they got to the end, the 182 monkeys were divided three or four at a time in each of the 50 cages. I looked over at the veterinarian at her station. She'd taken off her watch cap and tied her hair up. Her face was all business in the harsh white of the exam lights. She nodded back at me.  "Two cages. One milliliter per kilogram intramuscular. Go."  My hyper focus kicked in. I started to estimate weight and calculate doses as I walked over to the two cages at the end of the row. I was sure a small young female was three kilograms. That meant three milliliters. I uncapped the needle, pointed the syringe up and flicked it with an index finger. A bubble rose to the top. I pushed the plunger until the air bled out and a droplet of ketamine sparkled at the tip of the needle.  The female rhesus was squeezed into a cage with three others. She helpfully squirmed away to hide her vulnerable face and belly from me, so it was straightforward to inject three milliliters into the muscle of her thigh. Next was a medium sized male, nine kilograms. After injecting nine milliliters, the plunger was at 27. A smaller male looked to weigh seven kilograms so his dose of seven left 20. The fourth macaque in the cage was another young female. Four kilograms, four milliliters. I finished the first cage with 16 milliliters of ketamine left in my syringe. The three kilogram female, the first monkey I'd anesthetized, was already getting drowsy so I kept going through the second cage. Slow is smooth and smooth is fast.  Somewhere behind me somebody yelled out the time.  "8:40! We have until 9:00!" It was Big Man over at the census table next to the scales. He called out the time I finished anesthetizing the first macaques. This let everyone know how much time we had to get them through the census process. Anthony, one of the crew from the boat appeared next to me. "Go on, head back and get ready. I'll watch 'em and bring them over when they're unconscious." Back at my fight wound station, I ran my eyes over the supplies one last time, plucked a packet of sterile surgical gloves out of the box and spread a blue and white pad on the table in front of me. Back at the cages Anthony unfastened two latches on the top edge of the cage and folded the whole side down. A random unconscious arm and a leg or two flopped out when the cage opened up. He gently picked up the little three kilogram female and carried her over to the veterinarian, then hustled back to shuttle the remaining macaques from cage to table. The vet did a thorough check for wounds and broken bones. Finding none, she proceeded with the health exam, jotting down quick notes about teeth, eyes and skin on a clipboard taken from the crate next to her. She raised her voice a bit to be heard over the generator. "Young adult female, no fight trauma, no tattoo." Someone, maybe Jack, took the clipboard and whisked the monkey away to the tattoo table. I heard a shaver start to buzz. The veterinarian was through the next monkey in a flash. This one already had a tattoo so was taken to the scales. The third monkey had been in a fight. "Young adult male, fresh laceration on right rear upper thigh, no health issues, no tattoo." She beckoned for me to come take the animal. I carried him to my table and gently laid him down on the pad. The wound on his rear thigh meant he'd been running away from a more aggressive male when he got it. It'd been about five minutes since I knocked him out, so I needed to move quickly. The laceration was new, through the top layer of skin, about an inch and a half long. A small amount of blood had just begun to clot at one end. I used my electric clippers to shave the hair away from the cut. I squirted iodine on the wound and the skin around it, then wiped it away with gauze. Next, I opened up the appropriate suture packet and set it next to the monkey.  Time to get mostly sterile. I put fresh surgical gloves on over my blue rubber exam gloves. I chose a pair of forceps from the metal tray full of alcohol and set about stitching up the wound. I don't remember the details of suturing, only that at the time I was proud of my ability to close a wound leaving only neat knots under the skin. The absorbable suture material would hold until the wound healed, then dissolve into the surrounding tissue. The macaque couldn't tear his stitches out. This was a big deal, since Monkey Island was no place for the cone of shame you see on a dog or cat. The wound wasn't deep or old enough to warrant injectable antibiotics, so I finished with a smear of topical ointment. The vet saw me strip off the surgical gloves.  "Good job Jeff. One down, but we gotta keep moving, I have another one here for you."  Someone from the tattoo table appeared and took  the young male to get his first ink. I put down a fresh absorbent pad and picked up my next patient from the veterinarian's table.  This one was in worse shape but would be ok. The wound was a deep tear with three flaps of skin instead of a simple laceration. It was on his left shoulder, which meant he faced his foe when it happened. The wound was older too, probably from a full two days ago when the corral was first baited. I had to shave away clumps of hair matted together by thick clots of blood before I could tell if there were signs of infection. Some of the tissue was dead, necrotic, so I used scissors to trim it away. The tear was wide at the surface, but had made a small hole in the deepest third layer of skin. I could see muscle and tendons through the opening. I used different kinds of sutures to close each of the three layers, starting with the deepest subcutaneous and working my way back up.  By the time I finished stitching up the monkey with the bad tear in his shoulder, two more were in line behind it. The veterinarian joined me at my station and we took care of those two together. Half of the initial eight monkeys had fight wounds. If that kept up it was going to be a long day. As it turned out, less than a quarter had some sort of wound, none of them worse than the tear I'd just treated and most required only a few stitches. Thankfully no broken bones. Still, that was forty macaques, so the rest of the morning was a blur of ketamine injections and wound closures.  A couple of times the action slowed enough for me to step over to the tattoo table. I wasn't qualified to give a young monkey its first chest tattoo, but they let me freshen up the faded letters and numbers on older animals. I shaved away the soft hair and disinfected the monkey's skin with alcohol. The tattoo guns seemed ancient, but they all worked. A small electromagnet vibrated a needle up and down in a guide. I dipped the tip of the gun in black ink then gently ran the buzzing needle over the skin and wiped away the small amount of blood that rose to the surface. It was harder than it looked. The unconscious monkeys seemed to always be in an awkward position. Their elastic skin moved around easily. I don't know how many tattoos I made better, but I didn't make any worse. A few years later I got my own first tattoo. The artist used exactly the same equipment and procedure we used on Monkey Island. The five person island crew took turns doing all the jobs. They busily weighed each monkey, measured bodies, arms and legs. They noted evidence of recent pregnancy. The sexual maturity of young monkeys was observed and logged. Whoever was doing the measurements calmly called out a constant stream of information to record keepers who listened and wrote it down on the correct chart. Every macaque went through the census process in less than twenty minutes. That meant they still had some time to sleep off their chemical restraint before rejoining the family group they left when they jumped into the corral for a banana days before.  When a macaque had been through the entire process, it was still unconscious from the ketamine. Or at least in the immobile and dissociated state ketamine causes. The animal was carried out into the forest and laid gently on its side in a warm spot of sunshine. Still close enough to keep an eye on, but far enough away from the census table so they wouldn't freak out when they woke up. Since the animals were in a vulnerable state, each monkey was placed a safe distance away from other macaques also recovering from anesthesia. At the peak, there must've been forty monkeys spread across the soft pine needles of the forest floor. I did my best not to anthropomorphize the macaques in my time with them. I followed the policy against seeing them as primate relatives. My colleagues had a harder time keeping their emotional distance. Animal care and more so behavioral care technicians interacted with the macaques when they were more endearing. Hungry. Curious. Nurturing. Annoyed. Caring. Playful. I was a veterinary technician. We interacted with the macaques when they were defensive or aggressive. When their behavior was closer to what you think of as 'wild animal.' It was easier for me to see them that way.  But the one time I felt kinship with my fellow primate? When I watched them wake up from anesthesia in the forest. It was quite the scene. A young male monkey, let's call him Chad, slept peacefully on his right side on a bed of soft pine needles in a spot of warm sunlight. Chad was big for his age and his muscular arms and legs had been arranged gently to one side. His head rested at a comfortable angle, though his mouth was open and his tongue drooped out. He was perfectly still for many minutes, as if he would sleep forever. Then movement. A leg extended slowly, almost a stretch. An arm pulled in and curled against his chest. After a moment, Chad lifted his head an inch off the ground, eyes closed, tongue still out, then laid it back down. Head back up, this time mouth closed and eyes half open as he became aware of his situation. Chad lifted his head higher and opened his eyes all the way. He pulled his arm under him to push himself up. His head and torso wobbled unsteadily, propped on that arm. A groggy expression of surprise came over Chad's face as if he had no idea where he was or how he got there. His eyes rolled from side to side.  After a long moment propped on one arm, Chad shifted his weight onto his butt. Monkeys usually sit on their haunches with their legs gathered underneath, so he looked silly with his legs splayed out to the sides. He planted his other arm and clumsily pulled one leg at a time underneath his butt, still supporting himself with his arms planted on the ground. Chad stayed in this 'dude where am I' position for a while as the fog wore off. His expression drifted between drugged, confused and a grimace of distaste from his dry mouth.  When he picked his hands up off the ground and could balance upright, Chad started to come around cognitively. He could take in his surroundings, though still he still wobbled unsteadily at times. His face took on a very clear 'where the hell am I and how did I get here?' expression. The ketamine wore off faster now. Chad looked down at his chest where it stung from the tattoo gun. His face grew concerned as he lifted a hand to touch his fresh ink.  Chad looked up with a pained almost regretful expression as he processed the fact he had a new tattoo. His hand went from his chest up to his left shoulder. He turned his head to peer down at fresh stitches in a two inch laceration. Chad seemed less puzzled about the fight wound than the tattoo. At this point the acute effects had faded. Chad wasn't wobbling any more, at least while he remained seated. He looked around again, this time he noticed the half dozen other unconscious monkeys nearby. His eyes grew wide. That was not good. At all. Time to get out of there. Chad lurched up on all fours. The sudden transition to vertical caused him to sway left, then right.  He evened out, and after one last look back at his unconscious cousins, Chad walked off into the forest with a hangover, fresh stitches, and a new tattoo.  ***** Find out what happened next in the full book Monkey Farm: A Summer Among the Macaques!        

Patricia Bailey's four-bedroom home sits high among the trees in lush Edisto Island, South Carolina. It's a peaceful place where her body healed from multiple sclerosis. It's also the source of her generational wealth.Bailey built this house on land that was passed down by her great-great-grandfather, Jim Hutchinson, who was enslaved on Edisto before he was freed and became a landowner. “I know this is sacred land here,” Bailey says, “'cause it's my ancestors and I feel it.” Union General William T. Sherman's Special Field Orders, No. 15—better known as 40 acres and a mule—implied a better life in the waning days of the Civil War. Hutchinson is among the formerly enslaved people who received land through the field orders, which are often thought of as a promise that was never kept. But 40 acres and a mule was more than that. It was real.Over a more than two-year investigation, our partners at the Center for Public Integrity unearthed thousands of records once buried in the National Archives. In them, they found more than 1,200 formerly enslaved people who were given land by the federal government through the field orders—and then saw that land taken away. None of the land Bailey lives on today is part of Hutchinson's 40 acres. Instead, her family's wealth is built on her ancestor's determination to get and keep land of his own, after losing what he thought he had gained through the field orders.This week on Reveal, with the Center for Public Integrity, we're revisiting our three-part series in which we tell the history of an often-misunderstood government program. We explore a reparation that wasn't—and the wealth gap that remains.This is an update of an episode that originally aired in June 2024.  Support Reveal's journalism at Revealnews.org/donatenow Subscribe to our weekly newsletter to get the scoop on new episodes at Revealnews.org/newsletter Connect with us on Bluesky, Facebook and Instagram Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices

South Carolina is one of the original thirteen states, but its history began long before the first European settlers arrived. Native peoples had lived throughout the region for countless generations, building communities along its rivers, forests, coastal marshes, and barrier islands. The name Carolina comes from Carolus, the Latin form of Charles. The land was named in honor of England's King Charles I. South Carolina later ratified the United States Constitution on May 23, 1788, becoming the eighth state to join the new nation. Many Native American nations lived in what's now South Carolina. These included the Catawba, Cherokee, Pee Dee, Waccamaw, Santee, Edisto, Kiawah, Yamasee, and several other groups. The Catawba lived primarily in the Piedmont region, while other communities made their homes along the coast and major rivers. European explorers began visiting the coastline during the 1500s. A Spanish expedition attempted to establish the colony of San Miguel de Gualdape in 1526, although historians still debate its exact location. The colony failed within a few months because of disease, hunger, internal conflict, and resistance from the people who'd been enslaved there. The French established Charlesfort on present-day Parris Island in 1562, but the small settlement lasted only about a year. Spain later established Santa Elena at the same location in 1566. Santa Elena became the capital of Spanish Florida before it was abandoned in 1587. The first lasting English settlement in South Carolina was Charles Towne, founded in 1670. It was later moved to the area where Charleston stands today. With Native American, European, African, and Caribbean traditions meeting in the same region, South Carolina developed a rich collection of legends and ghost stories. Some began with real people and historical events. Others came from spiritual beliefs, unexplained sightings, family stories, and warnings passed from one generation to the next. Here are some of South Carolina's most memorable legends... Podcast Notes: https://ancestralfindings.com/american-folklore-south-carolina/ Ancestral Findings Podcast: https://ancestralfindings.com/podcast This Week's Free Genealogy Lookups: https://ancestralfindings.com/lookups Genealogy Giveaway: https://ancestralfindings.com/giveaway Genealogy eBooks: https://ancestralfindings.com/ebooks Follow Along: https://www.facebook.com/AncestralFindings https://www.youtube.com/ancestralfindings Support Ancestral Findings: https://ancestralfindings.com/support #Genealogy #AncestralFindings #GenealogyClips

Tonight on The Pipes Magazine Radio Show, our featured interview is with Nathan Davis of Greywoodie fame. Long known as one of the pipe community's biggest advocates for Kaywoodie, Nathan began as a collector before becoming a dealer and launching the Greywoodie website. In 2024, he completed an extraordinary journey when he acquired Kaywoodie itself, ending more than 175 years of ownership by the same family across four generations. Known as CrashTheGrey on the Pipes Magazine forums, Nathan is also the organizer of the Capitaland Pipe Show, which is this weekend - June 27, 2026. Lastly, Nathan is co-host of the Greywoodie Podcast alongside Eugene Falco. At the top of the show in Pipe Parts, Brian will have a tobacco review of Low Country's Edisto, which is a Red Virginia flake tobacco made by Cornell & Diehl. We also have a fun surprise in place of the music segment that you don't want to miss.

Everybody says just leave. As if it is one decision and then it is over. It is not. Leaving is a window. And everything the research tells us says that window is where the danger lives.Maggie Murdaugh had reportedly consulted a divorce attorney. She was living at the Edisto beach house. On June 7, two witnesses testified she did not want to go to Moselle when Alex asked her to come. Her own sister encouraged her — and could barely get through the testimony about it.Psychotherapist Shavaun Scott explains why separation triggers escalation, how automatic compliance builds over years of peacekeeping, and why the people closest to someone in danger often have completely different reads on how serious the situation really is. Scott recently wrote about this on her Substack, Spotlight on Psychology. The final two questions in this interview are for anyone standing in that window right now.Join Our SubStack For AD-FREE ADVANCE EPISODES & EXTRAS!: https://hiddenkillers.substack.com/Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8-vxmbhTxxG10sO1izODJg?sub_confirmation=1Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspodX Twitter https://x.com/TrueCrimePodThis publication contains commentary and opinion based on publicly available information. All individuals are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Nothing published here should be taken as a statement of fact, health or legal advice.#MaggieMurdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #MurdaughTrial #DomesticViolence #LeavingIsTheDangerousPart #ShavaunScott #HiddenKillers #TrueCrime #Moselle #SpotlightOnPsychology

A divorce filing in the Murdaugh case would have triggered financial discovery. Depositions. Forensic accounting. Every stolen settlement, every fabricated claim, every opioid pill — all of it exposed. Alex was not losing a wife. He was losing the architecture that kept decades of fraud from collapsing.According to reports, Maggie had consulted an attorney. She was living at the Edisto beach house. On June 7, she did not want to go to Moselle. The housekeeper and her own sister both testified to that.Psychotherapist Shavaun Scott joins Tony Brueski for the final part of a three-part series and explains why separation is the inflection point — the moment an abuser's threat calculus shifts from maintaining control to preventing escape. Scott recently wrote about this on her Substack, Spotlight on Psychology. This conversation extends well beyond the Murdaugh case into the universal mechanics of what makes leaving dangerous and what women standing in that window need to know.Join Our SubStack For AD-FREE ADVANCE EPISODES & EXTRAS!: https://hiddenkillers.substack.com/Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8-vxmbhTxxG10sO1izODJg?sub_confirmation=1Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspodX Twitter https://x.com/TrueCrimePodThis publication contains commentary and opinion based on publicly available information. All individuals are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Nothing published here should be taken as a statement of fact, health or legal advice.#MaggieMurdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #MurdaughTrial #DomesticViolence #LeavingIsTheDangerousPart #ShavaunScott #HiddenKillers #TrueCrime #Moselle #SpotlightOnPsychology

This week on Southern Hospitality, the group heads to Edisto for fun times down by the river, Joe's hook up with Countess Luann comes back up, Lake and Michols fight over gossiping, Emmy continues to do wrong and wonder why everyone is mad at her and more!Follow me on social media, find links to merch, Patreon and more here! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Off the coast of South Carolina, on Edisto Island, a mausoleum at the back of an old churchyard has become the center of one of the state's most persistent ghost stories. The name “Legare” is carved over the entrance, and for generations people have whispered that a young woman named Julia was buried alive inside. This episode follows the legend to the historical record and asks what we can really know about the woman whose name turned a family tomb into one of South Carolina's most talked-about hauntings. Join the Community on Patreon: Want more Southern Mysteries? You can hear the Southern Mysteries show archive of 60+ episodes along with Patron exclusive podcast, Audacious: Tales of American Crime and more when you become a patron of the show. You can immediately access exclusive content now at patreon.com/southernmysteries

Long before police lights flashed across Moselle… long before the world knew the Murdaugh name for murder, fraud, and power… one woman saw the truth of that home in its quietest moments. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the family's longtime housekeeper, has finally broken her silence — and her memoir may be the most important firsthand account in the entire case. In this powerful Hidden Killers deep-dive, Tony Brueski dissects Blanca's revelations with the scrutiny they deserve. She wasn't a juror. She wasn't a prosecutor. She was inside that home every day — folding the clothes, cooking the meals, fixing the small details that reveal how a family really lives. And when she walked into Moselle the morning after Maggie and Paul were murdered, she knew instantly: nothing looked right. We break down Blanca's most chilling observations — the “staged” feel of the room, the pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them, the kitchen cleaned wrong, Maggie's car parked where she never parked it, and the famous Edisto beach towel Blanca washed that morning that later appeared in Alex's Suburban on police body cam. These aren't theories — they are lived details only she could spot. And then comes the revelation that rewrites everything: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. She describes an unfamiliar woman walking through the Moselle property after the funerals “as if she owned it,” and she reveals that law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person most familiar with the house's natural rhythm. This episode explores betrayal, instincts, staging, and the emotional fallout of realizing someone you trusted manipulated you into supporting a lie. If you think you already understand the Murdaugh murders… listen to this. #HiddenKillers #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #TrueCrime #MurdaughMurders #TonyBrueski #CrimeAnalysis #HousekeeperMemoir Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

Long before police lights flashed across Moselle… long before the world knew the Murdaugh name for murder, fraud, and power… one woman saw the truth of that home in its quietest moments. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the family's longtime housekeeper, has finally broken her silence — and her memoir may be the most important firsthand account in the entire case. In this powerful Hidden Killers deep-dive, Tony Brueski dissects Blanca's revelations with the scrutiny they deserve. She wasn't a juror. She wasn't a prosecutor. She was inside that home every day — folding the clothes, cooking the meals, fixing the small details that reveal how a family really lives. And when she walked into Moselle the morning after Maggie and Paul were murdered, she knew instantly: nothing looked right. We break down Blanca's most chilling observations — the “staged” feel of the room, the pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them, the kitchen cleaned wrong, Maggie's car parked where she never parked it, and the famous Edisto beach towel Blanca washed that morning that later appeared in Alex's Suburban on police body cam. These aren't theories — they are lived details only she could spot. And then comes the revelation that rewrites everything: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. She describes an unfamiliar woman walking through the Moselle property after the funerals “as if she owned it,” and she reveals that law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person most familiar with the house's natural rhythm. This episode explores betrayal, instincts, staging, and the emotional fallout of realizing someone you trusted manipulated you into supporting a lie. If you think you already understand the Murdaugh murders… listen to this. #HiddenKillers #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #TrueCrime #MurdaughMurders #TonyBrueski #CrimeAnalysis #HousekeeperMemoir Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

Long before police lights flashed across Moselle… long before the world knew the Murdaugh name for murder, fraud, and power… one woman saw the truth of that home in its quietest moments. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the family's longtime housekeeper, has finally broken her silence — and her memoir may be the most important firsthand account in the entire case. In this powerful Hidden Killers deep-dive, Tony Brueski dissects Blanca's revelations with the scrutiny they deserve. She wasn't a juror. She wasn't a prosecutor. She was inside that home every day — folding the clothes, cooking the meals, fixing the small details that reveal how a family really lives. And when she walked into Moselle the morning after Maggie and Paul were murdered, she knew instantly: nothing looked right. We break down Blanca's most chilling observations — the “staged” feel of the room, the pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them, the kitchen cleaned wrong, Maggie's car parked where she never parked it, and the famous Edisto beach towel Blanca washed that morning that later appeared in Alex's Suburban on police body cam. These aren't theories — they are lived details only she could spot. And then comes the revelation that rewrites everything: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. She describes an unfamiliar woman walking through the Moselle property after the funerals “as if she owned it,” and she reveals that law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person most familiar with the house's natural rhythm. This episode explores betrayal, instincts, staging, and the emotional fallout of realizing someone you trusted manipulated you into supporting a lie. If you think you already understand the Murdaugh murders… listen to this. #HiddenKillers #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #TrueCrime #MurdaughMurders #TonyBrueski #CrimeAnalysis #HousekeeperMemoir Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

In the noise, chaos, and courtroom spectacle of the Murdaugh murders, one voice was never fully heard — and it may be the one that changes how you see this case forever. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the Murdaugh family's longtime housekeeper, has now broken her silence in a memoir packed with the kind of details only someone inside that home could recognize. And one revelation stands above the rest: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. Tonight on Hidden Killers, we go deep into Blanca's account — not the sanitized version from trial clips or headlines, but the raw observations she lived through the morning after Maggie and Paul were killed. She walks into Moselle expecting grief and chaos. Instead, she finds staging. She finds inconsistencies. She finds details so off-pattern that her instincts, built from fourteen years of working inside that home, start screaming that something else happened here — something larger than the state ever pursued. We explore every anomaly Blanca describes: Maggie's SUV parked in a place she never parked. Pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them. A kitchen “cleaned” in a way that didn't match her routines. And later, the infamous Edisto beach towel Blanca had washed that morning — suddenly appearing in Alex's Suburban on police body cam, then vanishing for good. Then there's the chilling image she shares of an unfamiliar woman walking through the property after the funerals as if she owned the place. And perhaps most disturbing of all, the fact that Blanca says law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person who understood the difference between routine and staging. In Blanca's eyes, the murders had one gunman, but the aftermath had more than one set of hands. If you think you already know this case, you need to hear this. #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeDocumentary Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

In the noise, chaos, and courtroom spectacle of the Murdaugh murders, one voice was never fully heard — and it may be the one that changes how you see this case forever. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the Murdaugh family's longtime housekeeper, has now broken her silence in a memoir packed with the kind of details only someone inside that home could recognize. And one revelation stands above the rest: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. Tonight on Hidden Killers, we go deep into Blanca's account — not the sanitized version from trial clips or headlines, but the raw observations she lived through the morning after Maggie and Paul were killed. She walks into Moselle expecting grief and chaos. Instead, she finds staging. She finds inconsistencies. She finds details so off-pattern that her instincts, built from fourteen years of working inside that home, start screaming that something else happened here — something larger than the state ever pursued. We explore every anomaly Blanca describes: Maggie's SUV parked in a place she never parked. Pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them. A kitchen “cleaned” in a way that didn't match her routines. And later, the infamous Edisto beach towel Blanca had washed that morning — suddenly appearing in Alex's Suburban on police body cam, then vanishing for good. Then there's the chilling image she shares of an unfamiliar woman walking through the property after the funerals as if she owned the place. And perhaps most disturbing of all, the fact that Blanca says law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person who understood the difference between routine and staging. In Blanca's eyes, the murders had one gunman, but the aftermath had more than one set of hands. If you think you already know this case, you need to hear this. #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeDocumentary Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

In the noise, chaos, and courtroom spectacle of the Murdaugh murders, one voice was never fully heard — and it may be the one that changes how you see this case forever. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the Murdaugh family's longtime housekeeper, has now broken her silence in a memoir packed with the kind of details only someone inside that home could recognize. And one revelation stands above the rest: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. Tonight on Hidden Killers, we go deep into Blanca's account — not the sanitized version from trial clips or headlines, but the raw observations she lived through the morning after Maggie and Paul were killed. She walks into Moselle expecting grief and chaos. Instead, she finds staging. She finds inconsistencies. She finds details so off-pattern that her instincts, built from fourteen years of working inside that home, start screaming that something else happened here — something larger than the state ever pursued. We explore every anomaly Blanca describes: Maggie's SUV parked in a place she never parked. Pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them. A kitchen “cleaned” in a way that didn't match her routines. And later, the infamous Edisto beach towel Blanca had washed that morning — suddenly appearing in Alex's Suburban on police body cam, then vanishing for good. Then there's the chilling image she shares of an unfamiliar woman walking through the property after the funerals as if she owned the place. And perhaps most disturbing of all, the fact that Blanca says law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person who understood the difference between routine and staging. In Blanca's eyes, the murders had one gunman, but the aftermath had more than one set of hands. If you think you already know this case, you need to hear this. #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeDocumentary Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

In the noise, chaos, and courtroom spectacle of the Murdaugh murders, one voice was never fully heard — and it may be the one that changes how you see this case forever. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the Murdaugh family's longtime housekeeper, has now broken her silence in a memoir packed with the kind of details only someone inside that home could recognize. And one revelation stands above the rest: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. Tonight on Hidden Killers, we go deep into Blanca's account — not the sanitized version from trial clips or headlines, but the raw observations she lived through the morning after Maggie and Paul were killed. She walks into Moselle expecting grief and chaos. Instead, she finds staging. She finds inconsistencies. She finds details so off-pattern that her instincts, built from fourteen years of working inside that home, start screaming that something else happened here — something larger than the state ever pursued. We explore every anomaly Blanca describes: Maggie's SUV parked in a place she never parked. Pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them. A kitchen “cleaned” in a way that didn't match her routines. And later, the infamous Edisto beach towel Blanca had washed that morning — suddenly appearing in Alex's Suburban on police body cam, then vanishing for good. Then there's the chilling image she shares of an unfamiliar woman walking through the property after the funerals as if she owned the place. And perhaps most disturbing of all, the fact that Blanca says law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person who understood the difference between routine and staging. In Blanca's eyes, the murders had one gunman, but the aftermath had more than one set of hands. If you think you already know this case, you need to hear this. #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeDocumentary Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

In the noise, chaos, and courtroom spectacle of the Murdaugh murders, one voice was never fully heard — and it may be the one that changes how you see this case forever. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the Murdaugh family's longtime housekeeper, has now broken her silence in a memoir packed with the kind of details only someone inside that home could recognize. And one revelation stands above the rest: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. Tonight on Hidden Killers, we go deep into Blanca's account — not the sanitized version from trial clips or headlines, but the raw observations she lived through the morning after Maggie and Paul were killed. She walks into Moselle expecting grief and chaos. Instead, she finds staging. She finds inconsistencies. She finds details so off-pattern that her instincts, built from fourteen years of working inside that home, start screaming that something else happened here — something larger than the state ever pursued. We explore every anomaly Blanca describes: Maggie's SUV parked in a place she never parked. Pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them. A kitchen “cleaned” in a way that didn't match her routines. And later, the infamous Edisto beach towel Blanca had washed that morning — suddenly appearing in Alex's Suburban on police body cam, then vanishing for good. Then there's the chilling image she shares of an unfamiliar woman walking through the property after the funerals as if she owned the place. And perhaps most disturbing of all, the fact that Blanca says law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person who understood the difference between routine and staging. In Blanca's eyes, the murders had one gunman, but the aftermath had more than one set of hands. If you think you already know this case, you need to hear this. #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeDocumentary Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

In the noise, chaos, and courtroom spectacle of the Murdaugh murders, one voice was never fully heard — and it may be the one that changes how you see this case forever. Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the Murdaugh family's longtime housekeeper, has now broken her silence in a memoir packed with the kind of details only someone inside that home could recognize. And one revelation stands above the rest: Blanca does not believe Alex acted alone. Tonight on Hidden Killers, we go deep into Blanca's account — not the sanitized version from trial clips or headlines, but the raw observations she lived through the morning after Maggie and Paul were killed. She walks into Moselle expecting grief and chaos. Instead, she finds staging. She finds inconsistencies. She finds details so off-pattern that her instincts, built from fourteen years of working inside that home, start screaming that something else happened here — something larger than the state ever pursued. We explore every anomaly Blanca describes: Maggie's SUV parked in a place she never parked. Pajamas and underwear laid out in a way Maggie would never prepare them. A kitchen “cleaned” in a way that didn't match her routines. And later, the infamous Edisto beach towel Blanca had washed that morning — suddenly appearing in Alex's Suburban on police body cam, then vanishing for good. Then there's the chilling image she shares of an unfamiliar woman walking through the property after the funerals as if she owned the place. And perhaps most disturbing of all, the fact that Blanca says law enforcement never interviewed her — the one person who understood the difference between routine and staging. In Blanca's eyes, the murders had one gunman, but the aftermath had more than one set of hands. If you think you already know this case, you need to hear this. #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #Murdaugh #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeDocumentary Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

Inside the walls of the Moselle home, long before the murders, long before the trial, and long before the world knew the Murdaugh name for what it would become, there was one person who witnessed the daily reality of this family — the routines, the habits, the private moments, and the small details that never make it into headlines. Her name is Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, and in her new memoir, she finally lays out the pieces of the puzzle that only someone inside that house could ever truly see. In today's Hidden Killers deep-dive, Tony Brueski breaks down Blanca's revelations with the intensity they deserve. From the morning-after staging she immediately recognized as “wrong,” to the clothing inconsistencies Alex tried to rewrite in her memory, to the infamous Edisto beach towel she washed that morning and later saw in his Suburban on police body cam — this isn't just another perspective. It's a firsthand account that directly challenges the story Alex Murdaugh spent years trying to sell. We explore why Blanca held onto her belief in Alex's innocence far longer than most. We walk through the chilling moment that finally shattered that belief. And we dig into the emotional betrayal threaded through her unsent letter — a private message never meant to be public, now revealing what it feels like when someone you trusted manipulates you into playing a role in their cover-up. This episode isn't about theory. It's about the truth of lived experience — the kind of truth that can only come from the person who folded the laundry, straightened the collars, cooked the meals, and knew the difference between the way something should look and the way someone wanted it to look after a crime. If you've followed the Murdaugh case, you've never heard this story like this before. And if you thought the verdict was the whole story… you may want to listen all the way to the end.  #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #MurdaughCase #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeInvestigation Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

Inside the walls of the Moselle home, long before the murders, long before the trial, and long before the world knew the Murdaugh name for what it would become, there was one person who witnessed the daily reality of this family — the routines, the habits, the private moments, and the small details that never make it into headlines. Her name is Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, and in her new memoir, she finally lays out the pieces of the puzzle that only someone inside that house could ever truly see. In today's Hidden Killers deep-dive, Tony Brueski breaks down Blanca's revelations with the intensity they deserve. From the morning-after staging she immediately recognized as “wrong,” to the clothing inconsistencies Alex tried to rewrite in her memory, to the infamous Edisto beach towel she washed that morning and later saw in his Suburban on police body cam — this isn't just another perspective. It's a firsthand account that directly challenges the story Alex Murdaugh spent years trying to sell. We explore why Blanca held onto her belief in Alex's innocence far longer than most. We walk through the chilling moment that finally shattered that belief. And we dig into the emotional betrayal threaded through her unsent letter — a private message never meant to be public, now revealing what it feels like when someone you trusted manipulates you into playing a role in their cover-up. This episode isn't about theory. It's about the truth of lived experience — the kind of truth that can only come from the person who folded the laundry, straightened the collars, cooked the meals, and knew the difference between the way something should look and the way someone wanted it to look after a crime. If you've followed the Murdaugh case, you've never heard this story like this before. And if you thought the verdict was the whole story… you may want to listen all the way to the end.  #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #MurdaughCase #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeInvestigation Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

Inside the walls of the Moselle home, long before the murders, long before the trial, and long before the world knew the Murdaugh name for what it would become, there was one person who witnessed the daily reality of this family — the routines, the habits, the private moments, and the small details that never make it into headlines. Her name is Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, and in her new memoir, she finally lays out the pieces of the puzzle that only someone inside that house could ever truly see. In today's Hidden Killers deep-dive, Tony Brueski breaks down Blanca's revelations with the intensity they deserve. From the morning-after staging she immediately recognized as “wrong,” to the clothing inconsistencies Alex tried to rewrite in her memory, to the infamous Edisto beach towel she washed that morning and later saw in his Suburban on police body cam — this isn't just another perspective. It's a firsthand account that directly challenges the story Alex Murdaugh spent years trying to sell. We explore why Blanca held onto her belief in Alex's innocence far longer than most. We walk through the chilling moment that finally shattered that belief. And we dig into the emotional betrayal threaded through her unsent letter — a private message never meant to be public, now revealing what it feels like when someone you trusted manipulates you into playing a role in their cover-up. This episode isn't about theory. It's about the truth of lived experience — the kind of truth that can only come from the person who folded the laundry, straightened the collars, cooked the meals, and knew the difference between the way something should look and the way someone wanted it to look after a crime. If you've followed the Murdaugh case, you've never heard this story like this before. And if you thought the verdict was the whole story… you may want to listen all the way to the end.  #HiddenKillers #TonyBrueski #MurdaughCase #AlexMurdaugh #MaggieMurdaugh #PaulMurdaugh #TrueCrime #BlancaSimpson #Moselle #CrimeInvestigation Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/@hiddenkillerspod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/tonybpod Listen Ad-Free On Apple Podcasts Here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/true-crime-today-premium-plus-ad-free-advance-episode/id1705422872

Send us a textIn today's episode, I'm joined by Scott Gould, award-winning author of the new novel Peace Like a River. Scott has published five additional books, including The Hammerhead Chronicles (winner of the Eric Hoffer Award for Fiction) and Things That Crash, Things That Fly (winner of the 2022 Memoir Prize for Books). His work has also earned a Next Generation Indie Book Award, an IPPY Award for Fiction, the Larry Brown Short Story Award, and the S.C. Arts Commission Artist Fellowship in Prose. He lives in San Souci, South Carolina, and teaches at the S.C. Governor's School for the Arts & Humanities.Episode Highlights:How Peace Like a River lets readers experience South Carolina like locals.Why the Lowcountry remains Scott's writing comfort zone.The generational themes of fathers and sons woven throughout the novel.The importance of setting as a character in storytelling.A sneak peek at Scott's forthcoming book set in Northern Alabama.Scott's book flight featuring short novels he loves.Connect with Scott:InstagramWebsiteBuy Scott's booksShow NotesSome links are affiliate links, which are no extra cost to you but do help to support the show.Books and authors mentioned in the episode:Music of the Swamp by Lewis NordanRobinson Crusoe by Daniel DefoeJack Reacher series by Lee ChildSapiens by Yuval Noah HarariThe Water Method Man by John IrvingUlysses by James JoyceSophie's Choice by William StyronEven Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom RobbinsThe Milagro Beanfield War by John NicholsBook FlightHere to Get My Baby Out of Jail by Louise Shivers (1983)Edisto by Pagett Powell (1983)Norwood by Charles Portoise (1966)

When it comes to the Gullah Islands, Hilton Head and St. Helena, South Carolina and Sapelo and Jekyll Islands in Georgia, are usually the ones that are the first to come to mind. But sandwiched between Hilton Head and Charleston is Edisto Island, which just like the rest of the Gullah islands, has a rich and storied history of its own.

Episode 454 ~ October 31, 2024 Podcast Info / Topics Five of the most haunted lakes and rivers in the United States The Edisto River Canoe and Kayak Trail Commission has started their Winter Paddle Series The Clean Water Sports Alliance welcomes an independent commission on water in the UK

Episode 454 ~ October 31, 2024 Podcast Info / Topics Five of the most haunted lakes and rivers in the United States The Edisto River Canoe and Kayak Trail Commission has started their Winter Paddle Series The Clean Water Sports Alliance welcomes an independent commission on water in the UK

6:05 Beth's Song of the Day (6:00) 6:20 The Harris campaign is announcing her VP choice today. 6:35 Ray Stagich from The Weather Channel on TS Debby 6:50 RAM Biz Update; volatile market yesterday. 7:05 Jim Szoke and a Panthers update. 7:20 Scott Hamilton joins to talk about conditions in Edisto where he has a house. 7:35 The Beth file. 7:50 Crossing the Streams with Brett Winterble - Nancy Pelosi wants Biden on Mount Rushmore. Who is VP nominee for Harris.  8:05 More discussion about TS Debby 8:20 The Harris campaign is announcing her VP choice today. 8:35 Replay of Ray Stagich 8:50 More discussion about the Harris VP choice  9:05 Brett Jensen in studio to discuss the VP choice for the Harris campaign 9:20 Brett Jensen in studio to discuss the VP choice for the Harris campaign 9:35 Brett Jensen in studio on playing Quail Hollow yesterday. 9:50 Who is Tim Walz, the Democratic pick for VP.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

I had the opportunity to travel to the South Carolina Coast for my son's wedding. However, I dreaded the idea that renting a house or condo was the only way to stay on Edisto Island. I had visions of Florida or Myrtle Beach, where the coast has huge hotels and condos. When it comes to marketing a B2b business online, it's more like Edisto than Myrtle Beach. Edisto is trying to reach a niche audience that is harder to find and communicate with. Yet, it can only serve a limited number of customers. They would love more sales, but scaling takes time and resources. When it comes to using LinkedIn to grow sales, many thoughts, techniques, and tools are being pushed, sold, and pontificated on. The problem is that LinkedIn users are not on the platform to be sold. They are there to build networks, learn new things, and, frankly, find opportunities (like jobs).

Our historical investigation found 1,250 formerly enslaved Black Americans who were given land – only to see it returned to their enslavers.Patricia Bailey's four-bedroom home sits high among the trees in lush Edisto Island, South Carolina. It's a peaceful place where her body healed from multiple sclerosis. It's also the source of her generational wealth.Bailey built this house on land that was passed down by her great-great-grandfather, Jim Hutchinson, who was enslaved on Edisto before he was freed and became a landowner. “I know this is sacred land here,” Bailey says, “'cause it's my ancestors and I feel it.” Union General William T. Sherman's Special Field Orders, No. 15 – better known as 40 acres and a mule – implied a better life in the waning days of the Civil War. Hutchinson is among the formerly enslaved people who received land through the field orders, which are often thought of as a promise that was never kept. But 40 acres and a mule was more than that. It was real.Over a more than two-year investigation, our partners at the Center for Public Integrity have unearthed thousands of records once buried in the National Archives. In them, they found more than 1,200 formerly enslaved people who were given land by the federal government through the field orders – and then saw that land taken away. None of the land Bailey lives on today is part of Hutchinson's 40 acres. Instead, her family's wealth is built on her ancestor's determination to get and keep land of his own, after losing what he thought he had gained through the field orders.This week on Reveal, with our partners at the Center for Public Integrity, we bring you the first in a three-part series in which we tell the history of an often-misunderstood government program. We explore a reparation that wasn't – and the wealth gap that remains. Support Reveal's journalism at Revealnews.org/donatenow Subscribe to our weekly newsletter to get the scoop on new episodes at Revealnews.org/newsletter Connect with us on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram

Roni Haskell, Broker Associate and Team Leader with Keller Williams Realty talks with host Erin Kienzle about her approach to real estate in Summerville, SC.  Haskell has the experience buying and selling real estate in the Summerville/Charleston area (covering St. George down to Edisto) for 20+ years, and is consistently in the top 1% of sales production in the MLS, and has been a trusted partner for countless clients looking to buy or sell their dream homes. 

Host and American Family Farmer, Doug Stephan www.eastleighfarm.com introduces us to Glenn Roberts founder of Anson Mills. www.ansonmills.com. Glenn grew up in San Diego, California, the son of a professional singer and photographer, and a former Southern belle from Edisto, South Carolina. Somewhere along the road Glenn's overarching interests distilled into the study of architectural history and the history of food. Glenn explored rural back roads looking for the famous white Carolina mill cornl. He found this corn in a bootlegger's field near Dillon, South Carolina in 1997 and planted and harvested his own first crop of 30 acres in 1998. Today, in addition to its collection of native heirloom grains, Anson Mills grows Japanese buckwheat, French oats and Mediterranean wheat, and Italian farro. Glen works tirelessly to manage his old grains, the land, and their growers, as well as chefs and retail customers.

We take you to the exact spot on the rural road in South Carolina -- nearby Alex Murdaugh's 1,700-acre hunting lodge called Moselle -- where he staged a fake car breakdown on Sept. 4, 2021 -- nearly three months after the murders of his wife and son -- and reported being shot in the head. Alex called 911, claiming he had been shot, had a superficial wound, and needed medical aid. Later, Murdaugh's distant cousin and former client, Curtis Edward Smith, 61, "Cousin Eddie," reported that Alex allegedly confessed the murders to him. Murdaugh's attorneys said that wasn't true and that Alex had wanted to end his life. So he had Curtis meet him on the rural road to shoot him in a botched suicide-for-hire attempt so that Murdaugh's son, Buster, 26, could collect on a $10 million life insurance policy. The song at the end of the video: "Can I be Forgiven": Sleepaway Camp Bios: ✅ Chris - Bio: https://www.coldcasefoundation.org/ch... ✅ Karen - Bio https://www.coldcasefoundation.org/ka... Website: ✅ https://www.theinterviewroom.net/ TIR MERCH! https://theinterviewroom.myshopify.com --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/chris-mcdonough/support

Fancy a peek inside the Murdaughs' Edisto Beach Cottage--the one that Alex's wife, Maggie, preferred living at. I'll take you inside the living room, kitchen, bedrooms, sunroom, and more. #bryankohberger  #alexmurdaugh #paulmurdaugh #maggiemurdaugh #southcarolina #truecrime #idaho #moscowidaho #kayleegoncalves #madisonmogen #ethanchapin #xanakernodle #moscowstudentmurders #idahostudentmurders #moscowhomicides  #truecrimeunsolved #truecrimeunsolvedSupport the show

Alex Murdaugh's defense team began their day in court by calling Buster Murdaugh to the stand. He insisted that his father was “heartbroken” and “destroyed” after finding the bodies of his wife and son. The disgraced lawyer seemed to wipe away tears as his son said, “He asked me if I was sitting down … he sounded odd and then he told me that my mom and brother had been shot.”   We also learned in testimony that just after discovering the bodies, Murdaugh searched online for a popular South Carolina restaurant. His phone records show a search for  ‘Whaley's Edisto' in Safari browser” at 10:40 p.m. This timeline shows Murdaugh was still at the crime scene just  15 minutes after the first cop arrived. The restaurant he searched is one of the oldest in Edisto — where the Murdaughs' main house is located.   Later in the testimony, a forensic expert testified that Alex Murdaugh was too tall to be the shooter.   Joining Nancy Grace today: Joshua Ritter - Criminal defense attorney, partner at El Dabe Ritter Trial Lawyers, former Los Angeles County deputy district attorney, Twitter @joshuaritteresq,  Chris McDonough -Director At the Cold Case Foundation, Former Homicide Detective; Host of YouTube channel- ‘The Interview Room' Dr. Heidi Sievers -Founder- Sievers Forensics; Bloodstain pattern Analyst/Lead Consultant; Author: 'The $#*+ You Can't Make Up: Dark humor and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms;' Twitter:@thebloodstaindr Dr. Michelle DuPre - Former Forensic Pathologist, Medical Examiner, and Detective: Lexington County Sheriff's Department; Author: 'Homicide Investigation Field Guide' & 'Investigating Child Abuse Field Guide;' Forensic Consultant  Anne Emerson - Senior Investigative Reporter, WCIV ABC News 4 (Charleston, SC); Host of Award-Winning DAILY Podcast: 'Unsolved South Carolina: The Murdaugh Murders, Money and Mystery;' Twitter: @AnneTEmerson  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

“O” is for Orangeburgh Township was riginally entitled “Edisto,” but was renamed by its German-speaking Swiss inhabitants.

¿Cuál es el peor miedo de una persona? ¿Encontrarse frente a frente con un oso o un león, naufragar en medio del océano, perder todos sus bienes, o tal vez ser enterrado vivo?Hoy, en Lugares misteriosos, conoceremos la trágica y macabra historia de Julia Legare, que sucedió en la isla de Edisto en Carolina del Norte, Estados Unidos.No se olviden de:✔ Seguir el podcast en Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spreaker o en tus plataformas favoritas✔ Calificar el podcast en la app de Spotify ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐✔ Suscribirse al canal Lugares misteriosos el podcast en YouTube, regalarme un LIKE

Edisto Beach won a 2022 Achievement Award from the Municipal Association for its comprehensive Master Park and Recreation Plan. Assistant Town Administrator Mark Aakhus discusses how the town sought grant funding for the effort, how it brought together wide-ranging public input for the plan and what plan recommendations it has turned into new projects. See the award video at https://vimeo.com/732164282.

Inspired by his grandfather, Chris Williams is a second-generation knife maker. He watched his grandfather craft knives from discarded bandsaw blades in his workshop. This prompted Chris to create his own style of knives that were as beautiful as they were functional. This “hobby” continued to blossom as he made knives for friends until he ultimately walked away from a promising career as an investment banker to fully dedicate his energy into creating legendary knives. In 2005, Williams Knife Company was born and what has evolved has become a veritable artform. His big break came in 2010 when he crafted a new style of oyster knife that he named “The Edisto”, designed specifically for the small cluster oysters found along the east coast, which won the overall 2011 Made in the South award from Garden & Gun Magazine.

2GG Podcast: Century Old Ring Found on Edisto by Two Girls and a Guy

We talk with New York Times Best Selling Author and Edisto Island native Emily Meggett.

The Journey takes Heath to Edisto, SC. Heath shares his experience he took from training at Georgia K9 and the many classes he has sat in with Jeff Schettler. Jeff is a retired K9 handler, author, and K9 trainer. Jeff has a spot on amazon called Mantracker radio. He runs one of the most sought after man tracking schools in the world, since 2008. Jeff was drawn to the tracking world when he was introduced to bear hunting in California over 40 years ago. He has harnessed what he took from the hound world and leads the way in the tracking K9 industry, today. Heath and Jeff talk about some of the parallels they both use in both disciplines. The environmental effects of sunlight on the age of the track, how bacteria breaks down the scent pictures, and one of the most valuable things Heath took away from a training session in downtown Charlston. So sit back and devour the experience in the episode of the Journey.  www.gak9.com cajunlights.com havochuntingsupply.com www.timetogowild.com www.wall2wallfab.com www.joypetfood.com www.shopbriarcreek.com www.dogsrtreed.com www.freedomhunters.org www.roughcutcompany.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Journey takes Heath to Edisto, SC. Heath shares his experience he took from training at Georgia K9 and the many classes he has sat in with Jeff Schettler. Jeff is a retired K9 handler, author, and K9 trainer. Jeff has a spot on amazon called Mantracker radio. He runs one of the most sought after man tracking schools in the world, since 2008. Jeff was drawn to the tracking world when he was introduced to bear hunting in California over 40 years ago. He has harnessed what he took from the hound world and leads the way in the tracking K9 industry, today. Heath and Jeff talk about some of the parallels they both use in both disciplines. The environmental effects of sunlight on the age of the track, how bacteria breaks down the scent pictures, and one of the most valuable things Heath took away from a training session in downtown Charlston. So sit back and devour the experience in the episode of the Journey. www.gak9.comcajunlights.comhavochuntingsupply.comwww.timetogowild.comwww.wall2wallfab.comwww.joypetfood.comwww.shopbriarcreek.comwww.dogsrtreed.comwww.freedomhunters.orgwww.roughcutcompany.com

The Journey takes Heath to Edisto, SC. Heath shares his experience he took from training at Georgia K9 and the many classes he has sat in with Jeff Schettler. Jeff is a retired K9 handler, author, and K9 trainer. Jeff has a spot on amazon called Mantracker radio. He runs one of the most sought after man tracking schools in the world, since 2008. Jeff was drawn to the tracking world when he was introduced to bear hunting in California over 40 years ago. He has harnessed what he took from the hound world and leads the way in the tracking K9 industry, today. Heath and Jeff talk about some of the parallels they both use in both disciplines. The environmental effects of sunlight on the age of the track, how bacteria breaks down the scent pictures, and one of the most valuable things Heath took away from a training session in downtown Charlston. So sit back and devour the experience in the episode of the Journey. www.gak9.comcajunlights.comhavochuntingsupply.comwww.timetogowild.comwww.wall2wallfab.comwww.joypetfood.comwww.shopbriarcreek.comwww.dogsrtreed.comwww.freedomhunters.orgwww.roughcutcompany.com

I sat down with my wise and thoughtful friend Katie Ashley, another Charleston, SC local, to hear her takeaways from the seasons and cycles of the past few years as I know she is someone who embodies the #ItsAllMeMindset beautifully. Katie brings her lived wisdom to this conversation and shares it through her unique lens of her therapeutic yoga training and Chinese medicine, plus her personal experience with surfing. In this episode, we talk about: The cycles (or cyclones) of being a woman, mother or entrepreneur  How Katie keeps herself at the center of her life's experiences. #itsallmemindset Earth lessons, samskaras and giving ourselves grace to be in the process How we were both reluctant nature lovers

“E” is for Edisto River. Rising in the coastal plain, the Edisto is one of the longest free-flowing black-water rivers in North America.

Forty-two miles south of Charleston, SC and home to a little more than 2,000 people, Edisto Island is a place where everyone knew everyone else when Emily Meggett was growing up. Today she calls it a “little slice of heaven,” and says that when the side door is open, people know that there is food in her kitchen. And there is almost always food, as Miss Emily cooks “big,” as she calls it, cooking enough to feed 8 to 10 people on the regular. She began cooking professionally in 1954, at now, at 89 years old, has published her first cookbook, Gullah Geechee Home Cooking: Recipes from the Matriarch of Edisto Island. She's spent a lifetime cooking and sharing Gullah Geechie food, keeping its distinctive flavors alive and celebrated, all while raising ten children. She cooks with all her senses, and when she talks about cooking, she often uses her hands to demonstrate the method she's teaching you. It's beautiful, just like her laugh, especially when she sometimes refers to “butt's meat,” her name for salt pork, one of her favorite flavoring ingredients.

“O” is for Orangeburgh Township was riginally entitled “Edisto,” but was renamed by its German-speaking Swiss inhabitants.

2-17-22 AJ DailyCAB Insider: Market UpdateAdapted from a release by Paul Dykstra, Certified Angus Beef LLC Starting the Succession Planning Conversation Adapted from an article by Sara Gugelmeyer for Angus Journal Author and Registered Dietitian Diana Rodgers to Dish on Sustainable Meat at 2022 Stakeholders Summit Adapted from a release by the Animal Agriculture Alliance Livestock & Forage Systems Field Day Edisto Research and Education Center Adapted from a release by Clemson University Extension Compiled by Paige Nelson, field editor, Angus Journal. For more Angus news, visit angusjournal.net. 

“E” is for Edisto River. Rising in the coastal plain, the Edisto is one of the longest free-flowing black-water rivers in North America.

"E" is for Edisto Island [Charleston County; population 1, 558]. Located between the mouths of the North and South Edisto Rivers, Edisto is a sea island of approximately sixty-eight square miles. It is shielded from the Atlantic by Edisto Beach, a barrier island. In the sixteenth century, Spanish settlers established a short-lived Jesuit mission here. In the 1670s, the Edisto Indians deeded the island to English settlers. Indigo was introduced in the 1740s. Sea island cotton replaced indigo and Edisto was the center of sea island cotton production until the boll weevil wiped out the crop in the 1920s. Islanders then turned to cattle, cabbages, potatoes, and tomatoes. Today, the island has become a relatively unspoiled, much-treasured country retreat for many South Carolinians. Edisto Island derives its name from the Edisto Indians, the island's original inhabitants.

Episode #13 Is there video that will confirm Alex Murdaugh's recollection of events that led to him being shot in the head? What does Alex tell his attorney about that day? We have the details on Maggie Murdaugh's Edisto property. #murdaugh#truecrimeSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-murdaugh-family-murders-impact-of-influence/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Hear how smart mouth-guards can revolutionize high-impact sports, what surfers and skateboarders think of their sports' Olympic debut, a new app for International Cat Day and the tale of the two-headed turtle! This episode Leela is co-hosted by Leela and our Sports Correspondent, Porter Robbins.

St. John's Colleton Parish was established in 1734. The new parish consisted of Johns, Wadmalaw, Edisto, Seabrook, and Kiawah Islands.

“W” is for Walterboro (Colleton County; population 5364). Just after the Revolutionary War, rice planters from the Edisto, Combahee, and Ashepoo Ricers, tired of an annual summer jaunt of fifty miles to Charleston, created an alternate refuge from the malarial swamps closer to home. By the 1790s, among local forests and freshwater springs, they built a village that they called Walterboro. Profits from rice and indigo produced by enslaved black labor brought prosperity. In 1817 the town became the seat of Colleton District. An elegant brick courthouse designed by Robert Mills was complete in 1822. Four years later the town was incorporated. In 1828, Robert Barnwell Rhett launched the nullification movement at the Walterboro Courthouse. Throughout the antebellum period in the years preceding the Civil War, Walterboro was a hotbed of states’ rights sentiment.

You're listening to the Westerly Sun's podcast, where we talk about the best local events, new job postings, obituaries, and more. First, a bit of Rhode Island trivia. Today's trivia is brought to you by Perennial. Perennial's new plant-based drink “Daily Gut & Brain” is a blend of easily digestible nutrients crafted for gut and brain health. A convenient mini-meal, Daily Gut & Brain” is available now at the CVS Pharmacy in Wakefield. Now, some trivia. Did you know that Newport hosted the first ever lawn tennis championship in 1899? You can learn more about it at their Tennis Hall of Fame. It's Friday and almost the weekend. Tonight at 6pm, the Stonington Community Center is hosting Sip ‘n' Spin Pottery Workshop. Bring your own beverage and get your hands dirty throwing clay or working at the potter wheel to make your own creation. The cost is $40. For more, take a look for the link in the description: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/sip-n-spin-pottery-workshop-tickets-138285927933?aff=ebdssbdestsearch  Next, We're continuing our series of great weekend hikes in and around Westerly. Find a quiet spot to go for a hike with the Westerly Land Trust. Whether you head to the Avondale Farm Preserve, Barlow Nature Preserve, or other great places to take a walk, you can find maps and directions at westerlylandtrust.org. Lastly, it's a new year and we've seen just how important journalism over the past few years. Remember that reporting the local news is an important part of what it means to live here. Head over to Westerlysun.com and help us tell the stories of our community each and every day. Digital access starts at just 50 cents a day and makes all the difference in the world. Are you interested in a new opportunity? Look no further, we're here again with another new job listing. Today's posting comes from the US Customs and Border Protection. They're looking for full-time border patrol agents. Pay is competitive and there are opportunities for overtime.  If you're interested, you can read more and apply by using the link in our episode description. https://www.cbp.gov/careers/border-patrol-agent-apply-now Today we're remembering the life of James Edward MacGlaflin II who set sail for bluer waters and bluer skies last month. He was a loved husband, father, son, and friend. He grew up in southeastern Connecticut, living in Pawcatuck, Mystic and New London. He learned to swim by falling in the Pawcatuck River as a youngster. The ever health-conscious and scuba-diving Dad wryly wondered if he should have smoked a few cigarettes along the way as he struggled with walking during the last years of his life. In some ways, James's life began in earnest after he contracted rheumatic fever, spent a year in bed, and relearned to walk in his early teens. Shortly after recovery, he dropped out of eighth grade and joined the U.S. Navy at the ripe old age of 17 in 1942, to fight in World War II. He spent his war years in the Pacific at a forward Navy supply depot on Majuro in the Marshall Islands. He started his Navy career as a gunner's mate and finished as a Chief Petty Officer and a Fire Control school instructor. He retired from the Navy in 1962 after cruises to the Arctic, the Antarctic, the tropics, and places in between, all above Davy Jones' Locker. He served on the Grand Canyon, the Edisto, the McGowan, the Proteus, the Hank, the Moale and others. While on shore leave, Jim loved to roller skate. Jim married Agnes Irene Scott in 1948 and started a family with her in between stints of sea duty. During his Navy years, his family called trailer parks in Virginia and Rhode Island and Army housing in Maryland home before settling in Pawcatuck in May of 1962. Through it all, he learned the power of an education. Though Jim was often away from his young family at sea, working at the base movie theater, and going to night school at Mitchell College, he dearly loved his family. Jim started his post Navy career as the Apprentice School Supervisor at Electric Boat and earned an associate degree in Business Administration in 1968 from Mitchell College. After Electric Boat he became the New England Training Coordinator for the National Machine Tool Builders Association and finished his formal career as the Director of the Department of Labor for Rhode Island. After retiring to build docks, drive cabs, and after taking culinary classes at Ella Grasso Technical School and learning to cook like his mom, he worked in area restaurants such as the Shelter Harbor and Go Fish. Jim loved scuba diving, fishing, clamming, lobstering, baking, running marathons and of course doing 750 sit-ups whenever he felt like it. In his later years, he also tended a large raspberry patch, dabbled with grapevines, and loved sharing his homemade jelly and sourdough bread. No matter what, he often longed for the blue waters off Majuro and sadly enough, travel agents would not sell him a ticket when he tried to return in his eighties. Jim will be sorely missed by his family and friends. Thank you for taking the time today to remember and celebrate Jim's life. That's it for today, we'll be back next time with more! Also, remember to check out our sponsor Perennial, Daily Gut & Brain, available at the CVS on Main St. in Wakefield! See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Brooke went to Edisto for the first time and fell in love with it

Carter was a four-year starter during his playing days at Orangeburg-Wilkinson High School. His on-field and academic performance earned him a scholarship to the University of Tennessee Chattanooga. During his collegiate career as one of the university‘s prominent athletes playing along with future NFL Hall of Famer Terrell Owens, he grew a passion for Exceptional Learning and the study of Psychology. Chris Carter graduated from the University of Tennessee Chattanooga with a B.S. in Exceptional Learning and a Master in Psychology from Lee University. In 2006 Chris became Chattanooga Tennessee's first African American Head Football Coach and GM of the National Indoor Football League (NIFL) Tennessee RiverSharks. Chris's gift of coaching led him to Garinger High School in Charlotte, North Carolina in 2008. The football program at Garinger High School had a 5-year losing streak. As a determined head football coach, within 2 years, Chris led them to victory as the 4A Queen City Conference Champions. Chris was named ‘Coach of the Year' by The Charlotte Observer, Charlotte Coaches Association, and The Queen's City Conference. Garinger's football program was on a five-season losing streak, including 60 consecutive losses when Carter became head coach. Within two seasons, he coached the program to the Class 4A Queen City Conference Championship. Moving on to become head coach at Lake Marion in 2009, Carter was named the 2015 South Carolina High School League Class 2A Football Coach of the Year and the 2015 Times and Democrat Co-Coach of the Year as he led the Gators team to the program's first Lower State Championship game. In seven years at Lake Marion, 20 graduating football players have signed with collegiate programs and two players have been ranked among the top three players in the state. Also, five Lake Marion football players have played in various all-star games. He trained and coached Mike Williams, the national champion wide receiver of the Clemson Tigers and the highest drafted player from Orangeburg County as the number 7 pick in the 2017 NFL draft and Alex Brown, a super bowl champion with the Kansas City Chiefs. Both born in Holly Hill SC. Additionally, Carter helped increase the average grade-point average of his teams during his tenure at Lake Marion. Edisto High School hired Chris Carter from Lake Marion High School to become the athletic director and head football coach for the Cougars to turn around their winless football program. Carter has since stepped down from coaching to concentrate full-time on his athletic director duties. Carter has been a teacher and coach for over 20 years. Carter is also the Regional Director of Grind University 247 an organization created to train future leaders through sports. Utilizing different components of the game to teach life skills to help equip the next young generation. www.grinduniversity24.com --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/letssipandtalkwithfrema/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/letssipandtalkwithfrema/support

The Legare’s were a prominent South Carolianian family in the 1800’s. They owned a few homes on the mainland and also on nearby Edisto island.Their daughter, Julia, got very sick and eventually passed away due to her illness. She was laid to rest in the family’s mausoleum.But Years later, when another member of the Legare family died. The family opened up the tomb to find that something was amiss.--Thanks for listening to this week's episodes of Southern Haunts.Don’t forget to rate review and subscribe to the podcast that way you know exactly when new episodes drop every week.And be sure to send in a screenshot if you leave me a review and I’ll send you some southern haunts stickers.You can also send your paranormal encounter stories to southernhauntspodcast@gmail.com. --Music in this episode: "The Haunting Of Lake" originally composed and produced by "Vivek Abhishek" https://youtu.be/32B0WU0Y7fsandForgotten by REPULSIVE--Looking for more episodes? Join my Patreon HERE to listen to bonus material and more!

Some listeners find evidence of Leafcutter Bee and sight a Texas Horned Lizard.

The Town of Edisto Beach won the Municipal Association’s 2020 Achievement Award in the Population 1 – 1,000 Category for its water improvement project. Hear from Mayor Jane Darby about this infrastructure project’s development and outcome.

Well this week starts out with dork. So, why not go into the etymology of said dork. We go down the rabbit hole which leads to whales, diaper rash cream and why "the ocean is salty". The gang went floatin' down the Edisto which leads to inevitable short jokes and how Cush couldn't get back on the float. We discuss the Myrtle thong controversy. Who knew "Dirty Myrtle" would even need or want such a law. Sleep Standards wants couples to test out mattresses and win some cash. Happy Couples Month or whatever...

Here is a little note from my seller to the soon to be new owners of 104 Edisto Street.....

What a great discussion with CAPT (Ret.) Pruitt, he didn't pull any punches. Ever wondered what the TRUE keys to successful afloat leadership are? All Coasties (Cuttermen and non-Cuttermen) could gain something from this episode. Leadership 101! CAPT (Ret.) John W. Pruitt, III, retried from active duty after 23 years of distinguished service in the Coast Guard. He is a native of Atlanta, Georgia and a graduate of the United States Coast Guard Academy in 1994 with a Bachelor of Science Degree in Electrical Engineering. Upon commissioning, he served as a Deck Watch Officer aboard USCGC MUNRO (WHEC-724) home ported in Alameda, CA. He subsequently served as Officer-in-Charge LEDET (Law Enforcement Detachment) 5D, TACLET (Tactical Law Enforcement Team) North in Baltimore, MD, where he deployed onboard US Navy and Allied warships throughout the Caribbean and to the Persian Gulf, leading boarding teams enforcing counter-drug laws and the UN embargo of Iraq. Upon departing TACLET he commenced a tour of duty as Deputy, Systems Training Branch at C2CEN (Command and Control Communications Center), Portsmouth, VA. Upon his departure, he assumed duties as the Operations Officer aboard USCGC BOUTWELL (WHEC-719) home ported in Alameda, CA. While assigned to BOUTWELL he deployed to Iraq for both Operations Iraqi and Enduring Freedom in 2003. Remaining in California, he assumed command of USCGC EDISTO (WPB-1313), San Diego, CA where he was responsible for patrolling the Southern Coast of California and Central America in support of the Coast Guard’s Counter-Drug, Migrant Interdiction, and Search and Rescue missions. Upon departure from EDISTO, he was assigned to the Office of Strategic Analysis (the Coast Guard’s “Think Tank”), at Coast Guard Headquarters, Washington, DC where he worked to identify and analyze significant emerging geopolitical, economic, and environmental issues and trends, seeking to understand their potential strategic impact on the U.S. Coast Guard. Also while in DC, he served as Social Aide to The President of the United States under Presidents George W. Bush and Barrack Obama. Upon departing DC, he again returned to California to serve as the Executive Officer aboard USCGC BOUTWELL (WHEC-719) in Alameda, CA. In July of 2011 he assumed duties as the Commanding Officer of USCGC DAUNTLESS (WMEC-624), where he was the “Guardian of the Gulf.” In June 2013, he departed DAUNTLESS for his final tour as the Director of the U.S. Coast Guard’s Motion Picture and Television Office (MOPIC) in Los Angeles, CA. MOPIC’s mission is to enhance public awareness and understanding of the U. S. Coast Guard, its people, and its missions through a cooperative effort with the entertainment industry. Due to service needs, he assumed duties as Commanding Officer of USCGC STEADFAST (WMEC-623) from March – August 2015, and returned to MOPIC in August of 2015. Attending Old Dominion University, he was awarded a Masters of Engineering Management. He is also licensed as a Master of Vessels up to 100 Tons in the Merchant Marine. CAPT (Ret.) Pruitt’s military awards include the Maritime Service Medal, Four Coast Guard Commendation Medals, U. S. Coast Guard and U. S. Navy Achievement Medals, Three Iraq Campaign Medals, Permanent Cutterman designation, Tactical Law Enforcement designation, and several other personal and service awards. CAPT (RET.) Pruitt is also the recipient of the NAACP Roy G. Wilkins renowned service award and the Black Engineer of the Year Awards Modern Day Technology Leader award. He currently works in the entertainment industry as a producer and a military consultant on projects including scripted and reality TV, documentaries, video games, and cinema for companies including 20th Century Fox, Film Nation, Original Productions, Playtone, and Ubisoft among many others. Additionally, he is a Senior Shiphandling Instructor for the US Navy in Yokosuka, Japan.

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

On this weeks show, Summerville Local friend and business owner, Dan Riley talks about growing up around music, beginning to perform and his interests in helping other musicians. Dan speaks about his work, jamming on porches, employing musicians and we dive into the plans for the Edisto Blackwater Boogie Festival in October.  Be sure to FOLLOW Wings Weekly podcast on SpotifyWings Weekly intro music by: John BaldwinPad Samples used in public domain: by Freesound.org

On this episode I travel down the river with the elusive Gordon Peters and we record a little of it! I then wrap it up in a fun summary!! Enjoy this episode! We Enjoyed:LOTS OF BEER Where to find me:Email: craftconversationspod@gmail.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/CraftConversations/Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/craftconversations/ Advertisements:http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/dalesinc https://www.facebook.com/groups/367918800332130/?ref=bookmarks http://www.homegrownbrewhouse.com/ Music by:Slayton Johnson of The Ands

Have you ever wondered what it was like to ride a steamboat from Edisto Island to Charleston around the turn of the twentieth century? Today we’ll board the steamer PilotBoy and make that journey with a young man who later wrote a charming description of the sights, smells, and sounds of that by-gone experience once treasured by generations of islanders.

A young mother is struck by a horrendous disease while staying at her family's plantation on Edisto Island, South Carolina; but unbeknownst to her grieving family, it wasn't the disease that took her life.

Bi-Lo Fried Chicken Tony returns with the results of his second attempt at the PMP exam. Did he pass? Did he fail? Will he ever return to the show on a regular basis? Is George the next Kelly Ripa? You will have to download this episode to find out. Plus, George's tale about his trip to Charleston, SC turns into a rant about time shares, accessibility for the disabled, and...Bi-Lo fried chicken??!! Shopping online? Of course you are! Please use the Amazon link at www.georgeandtony.com for all your purchases. That, along with sharing the show on your social media pages and leaving five-star reviews on iTunes, helps us grow the show. Thank you for your support.

Travel to beautiful Charleston, South Carolina with Kate Vontaine of BossLadyJobs.com.  Kate tells us where to get the best sushi, the art museums that make up Charleston, and patiently explains what a grit is to Joel.  Kate also leads us through the great Spoleto festival and why Edisto should be your day trip outside of Charleston.

Queen Quet, Chieftess of the Gullah/Geechee Nation (www.QueenQuet.com) is the hostess of Gullah/Geechee Riddim Radio on behalf of the Gullah/Geechee Sea Island Coalition (www.gullahgeechee.net).  On this episode, she will focus on new legislation that will impact the Edisto and the Salkehatchie Rivers as well as the rest of the Gullah/Geechee Nation.  In addition, she will discuss the latest work of the Gullah/Geechee Sustainability Think Tank which endeavors to engage with the Gullah/Geechee community in order to heal the waters and to heal the family. Yeddi we sho-Gullah/Geechee Riddim Radio! www.gullahgeecheenation.com

Recorded Wednesday, 11/26/2014Topics included: Online this week: Hilton Head Island Packet - ACE Basin articleMullen Taylor - History of South Carolina Surface Water LawsSC Drought Response Team Decares DroughtHoward Bridgman & Charlie SweatEdisto River Canoe & Kayak Trail Ashley River Blue TrailAlan MehrzadFriends of the EdistoCongaree River KeepersEdisto Concerns Facebook Page Tyler Brothers

Recorded Tuesday, 10/28/2014Topics included: SC Water Resource ConferenceEdisto Concerns Facebook Page ACE Basin Article in National GeographicSC Water Resource Conference - VideosAudio clips from Conference Day 1: Senator Paul Campbell (recorded after Robert Hayes)Senator Robert Hayes (said “Mega Farm”)David Hyatt - House District 4Dyke Spencer - SCAWWA Water Utility CouncilDavid Winkles - SC Farm BureauQ: Gerritt Jobsis of American RiversOscar Bradley Eckoff - 87 yr old GeophysicistHugo Krispyn - Edisto.TVAudio clips from Conference Day 2Dana Beach, Coastal Conservation League Hugo Krispyn, Edisto.TV David Wilson, SC DHEC Ken Rentiers, SC DNR Doug Busbee, Edisto TV David Wilson, SC DHEC

Recorded Sunday, 10/20/2014Topics included: SC Water Resource Conference (more info next week!)Interview:  Pinkney Mikell of Edisto IslandEdisto Island Mostly Blue Grass FestivalFriends of the Edisto Member CelebrationCharleston County Green Belt program - www.smallchangeforbigchange.org/ Botany Bay Heritage PreserveEdisto Island Preservation Alliance - www.preserveedisto.orgEdisto Island Open Land Trust - www.edisto.orgEdisto United - www.edistounited.orgEdsito Island Museum - edistomuseum.org Eva Holsenback - Eva's Rolling Pin 

Recorded Monday, 9/30/2014Topics included: Response to Gary Spires Farm Bureau - Link to Original ArticleInterview - Gerrit Jobsis of American Rivers SC Surface Water Withdrawal ActEdisto Concerns Facebook Page San Joaqin River article - CNN Tyler BrothersContact Edisto.TV Podcast

Recorded Monday, 9/22/2014Topics included: Ann Timberlake of Conservation Voters of SC (Part 2 of Interview)Edisto.TV Contact Form - for Investors or those who want fast InternetWorld Rivers Day Margie Alt - Don't think of a Clean RiverEdisto Concerns Facebook Page Bob Guild honored  - Bob Guild on Edisto.TV Podcast (Episode #6 & #7)San Joaqin River article - CNN Conservation Voters of SCCVSC Legislative ScorecardCVSC Newsletter Give Green SC Tyler BrothersContact Edisto.TV Podcast

Recorded Monday, 9/8/2014Topics included: Ann Timberlake of Conservation Voters of SCEdisto.TV Safe Yield pageSan Joaqin River article - CNN American Rivers blog post on ACE BasinConservation Voters of SCSouth Carolina Wilderness areasGreen Tie Luncheon, September 17, 2014 SC Conservation BankCVSC Legislative ScorecardCVSC Newsletter Give Green SC 

A long time ago, pigs were clean. At least in India. And then once upon a time drastic measures were called for. We bring you this story especially for National Pig Day (March 1), which we just know you were just dying to learn about. It's been around for 40 years now, thanks to Texas teacher Ellen Stanley. We come to you from South Carolina (still) where we recount our visit to Charleston and Edisto Island, where the reptiles love to hang out. Oink Oink, Dennis (Narrator, Tiger, Second Pig, Old Pig) and Kimberly (First Pig) Doing the Charleston in Charleston video Another pig story from our archives The Pee Little Thrigs Stitcher - enter promo code "storytellers" to support A!S and for a chance to win $100