Pretty Much Forever (The Summerville Light)
By Lee Pelham Cotton | Poetry Society of South Carolina
swinging her husbands dinner bucket
new bride strides a bit faster
barefooted, bareheaded in dappled shade
okra fritters, crabcakes, a big hunk of gingerbread
mockingbirds and mourning doves making melody
sunflowers have turned towards the train tracks
whistle shriek makes her start skipping.
she hugs herself, whispers
please, please, let me do this pretty much forever
standing over her husband’s coffin
new widow stares at his scrubbed-clean hands
wide wedding ring gleams softly in the candlelight
sunflower pollen spangles his Sunday suit
from the bouquet she arranged in his arms
starched, embroidered pillowcase drapes
across the coffin where his head should be
deep-voiced organ groans, she shudders
she’ll recall this moment pretty much forever
she swings her lantern now most nights
neither new nor old, a timeless specter
green-gold flow sways over overgrown roadway
weak moonlight beshadows desolate wisteria
amid tangling vines, whippoorwills rasp
small owls peer out with pale eyes
while hidden crickets shriek in the weeds
she’ll be walking this abandoned path
pretty much forever
Moving to the Lowcountry
Back in August of 2001, I moved to the lowcountry of South Carolina to attend college. The college was (and still is) Charleston Southern University (CSU). Up until this point I had lived at home with my parents, but had lived in a few different states and cities along the way.
I spent my early years in the Appalachian mountains beginning with my birth in Lynchburg, VA and then moving to Johnson City, TN where my sister was born, and finally on to Beckley, WV and Bluefield, WV where much of my mother’s side of the family was actually from.
In 1993, we moved to Wake Forest, NC and spent three years there before moving to the upstate of South Carolina in 1996 where I would ultimately spend the majority of my adult years living.
I liked the idea of moving to the lowcountry. I liked it because I had spent most of my life up until this point living in the mountains and hill country and the thought of living close to the beach was a college kids dream. I liked the idea so much that I even went out and bought a Ford Mustang convertible…you know…because college kids need a convertible to cruise to the beach in.
Unfortunately for me, in late July or early August of 2001 I wrecked my car. Thankfully no one was hurt, but I lost my joy ride.
When I moved in to the Quad (this is what we called the men’s dorm at CSU) I made a lot of friends, some of which are still friends today in my 40’s. I also began to learn about the lowcountry, and more specifically the area that my school was in.
CSU is situated in what is known as North Charleston, but it is really close to a medium (now large) town called Summerville. As I explored the lowcountry and my area I began to hear from friends of mine who lived in the area their whole lives about various legends and lore.
One that caught my attention (largely because it was really close to CSU) was the legend of The Summerville Light.
A legend I would personally try to experience in person.
The Legend
There are various tellings of the story, but all of them (from what I have read) seem to have a central theme: a woman, her husband (who dies), and the railroad.
The first version of the story goes something like this:
A local woman would walk to the tracks late at night when she knew her husbands train should be coming through. She would carry with her a lantern to light the way as well as signal the train. The train would then stop when they saw her light to let her husband off, and together the woman and her husband would walk home.
One night the woman went about her normal routine of walking to the tracks with her lantern to wait on her husband, only this time the train never came. She waited and waited, but nothing. She would go home and then learn that her husband’s train had derailed and he was killed in the accident. [NOTE: Most versions say he was decapitated]
The woman refused to accept the death of her husband and continued her nightly routine looking for him, hoping he would return home. A routine she would carry on long after her own death and can still be seen late at night along what was known as Sheep Island Road where presumably the train tracks used to run.
A Variation of the Story
Other versions give pretty much the same account except the difference typically is that she wasn’t meeting her husband to walk him home, but rather that she was meeting him to take him a meal.
Either way you look at it, in the end her husband dies, and she continues to visit the tracks nightly to look for his return which never comes.
Sheep Island Road
Unfortunately, Sheep Island Road (also known to the locals as Light Road) doesn’t exist in the way that it did back when I was in college in 2001.
As of today, 2023, Sheep Island Road has been practically bull dozed and cut short to make way for the development of an area now known as Nexton which is a community filled with townhomes, condo’s, fancy homes, coffee shops, restaurants, tech businesses, and more.
Rough coordinates to old overpass: 33.049359417538064, -80.15982040448611
But back in the day, Sheep Island Road was a long dirt road that used to run from South Carolina Highway 176, crossing through a large pine wooded area, all the way down into the Summerville shopping area known as Azalea Square. The primary spot of the sightings was near the overpass where Sheep Island Road would cross over I-26.
NOTE: Image borrowed from Vacation Rick‘s post about the Summerville Light
It was this overpass where I and a couple friends tried to get a glimpse of the Summerville Light.
My Experience
Unfortunately, I don’t recall the exact year, but I would have to guess it was either 2002 or 2003 that I and a couple friends made our way to the overpass of Sheep Island Road.
It was dark, the road was deserted, and it definitely had quite the eerie vibe going on.
According to local legend, you must go close to midnight to see the light.
Some locals claim you only need to go at midnight, turn off all your lights, and wait for the light to appear. When it appears, they say that all of the noise around you will stop.
Other locals claim you need to go at midnight, flash your car lights, all sound will stop and then the light will appear.
My friends and I tried it both ways, but unfortunately the only lights we saw were the lights of another car coming our way down Sheep Island Road.
A bit anticlimactic, huh?
While this was my experience, many of my friends swear under penalty of death that they have seen this light. Many locals swear they have as well. So I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, I’m just saying that unfortunately, I did not get to enjoy the same experience.
The Eventful End to an Uneventful Night
Since my friends and I didn’t get to see the light, we were determined we could not let the night go to waste. So, like most intelligent, well meaning, and creative college guys would do – we decided to hide the car and scare other people who happened to be driving down the road hoping to get a glimpse of the light as well.
And boy, did we.
Other Resources
Check out the links below to read other stories and first hand accounts of the Summerville Light:
Vacation Rick: Lights out for a Summerville Legend–Extinguished By The Hand of Progress
Palmetto State Paranormal (Facebook): SUMMERVILLE LIGHT ROAD
Post and Courier: Ye Olde Summerville Ghost Story
Counton2: Origin of the Summerville Light
South Carolina Haunted Houses: Summerville Light – Real Summerville Haunt
Back Road Warrior 
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