This might be right, but it’s also true that millions of people are invading the Southeast and raising the demand for housing and utilities. We’re simply in no position to keep growing at our current pace in our current circumstances.
As of June, 2.2 million people had moved to the Southeast in the past two years alone, according to Bloomberg News, and in 2020 and 2021, the nation’s economic center of gravity shifted to the tune of $100 billion in new income to the region. Gee, wow, that sounds excellent, doesn’t it?
But everything comes at a price, especially growth. Yet public officials intone the word “growth” as if it had mystical power and was immune to negative consequences. Migration and population increases are nothing new, of course, but the scale of what’s happening now is sometimes horrifying to those of us who live here.
Allow me to introduce you to my hometown as a microcosm of what’s happening all over the region. Camden is South Carolina’s oldest inland city — the poor man’s Charleston — and its pitch to visitors is “history, horses and hospitality.” In the past couple of years, however, the area has exploded. Some of the resulting change is welcome: Long-ignored buildings downtown are being restored by thoughtful, preservation-minded developers. On the other hand, about a mile up Broad Street, the main drag, where it intersects with Interstate 20, there’s a new crop of hospitality-related edifices that seem to have been designed by Soviet architects.
They are the usual hotels seen at interstate exchanges everywhere, probably not shocking to casual passersby. But the core of Camden is on the National Register of Historic Places and deserves better from those who wish to profit from its hospitality. Ideally, some thought would have gone into matching the style of Camden’s history, which also includes a Revolutionary War park, a section of the American Battlefield Trust’s Liberty Trail, and an abundance of antebellum houses and other notable historic landmarks.
As the fifth of these hotels is constructed, it is a moment to recall Camden’s previous “hotel era” (1882-1941), when wealthy Northerners and Midwesterners “wintered” here with their polo ponies and horses. We have great footing in Camden — that is, sandy soil that allows horses to be run within an hour of heavy rains. These polished visitors were migratory birds who sought better weather for a time, then returned home. Most sat out the winter months at one of three well-staffed hotels, stimulating the local economy while conducting “one giant house party,” as one wag described life at the Kirkwood Hotel.
Of course, few towns demand quality development along interstates, for fear that developers will go elsewhere. But they should realize by now that they can ask for what they want. The growth that started with pandemic migration doesn’t seem to be abating. Elected officials and city managers needn’t apologize for insisting on high construction standards. If fast-food restaurants decide to opt for a cheaper deal at the next exit, then vaya con Dios, amigo.
Drive the roughly 30-mile stretch along I-20 from Camden to Columbia, and you’ll notice that the forestland has been replaced with chock-a-block housing, with nary a tree in sight. Many of these developments not only are offensive to the eye but also are destroying wildlife habitat beyond what should be acceptable. And traffic is becoming a nightmare.
The view is much the same if you take I-26 from Columbia to Charleston. Miles before you reach the coast, the landscape is pocked with developments and industrial installations that can’t even be identified. There seems to be no end to the bulldozing and burning of what nature had provided. South Carolina’s coastline has been thoroughly overdeveloped, increasing the potential toll of the next destructive hurricane.
Charleston, for its part, has become a Disney-fied interpretation of its former grandeur. You can trust that it’s nothing like the original, dowdy and downtrodden though it was. Unquestionably, new people and new money have saved the city’s crumbling architecture from further decay, but the patina, mystery and allure of this old port town are mostly gone. And so it goes until the Southern states will begin to look like all those places the migrating millions have fled. Prettier, perhaps, but thus it has always been.
Oh, well, you say, c’est la guerre. This is the way of things, and it’s not Ukraine or Israel or Gaza. But the South must wake from its multibillion-dollar trance and realize that while growth creates, it also destroys whatever stands in its way.
Camden is still a horsy town with a healthy porch culture, but for how much longer? The 385-acre Camden Training Center is being offered for sale, and one proposal circulating features 800 homes on 200 of those acres. The owner of the property — once owned by Marion duPont Scott, revered horsewoman and wife of actor Randolph Scott — certainly has a right to sell. But a coterie of preservation-minded citizens and “horse people” are hoping for something more creative and, preferably, equine-related.
The battle is on. Small, perhaps, in the scheme of things, but symbolic of all that might be lost to the gods of growth for its own sake and their enablers in banks and city and county governments across the Southeast. The most important challenge now is to manage responsible growth while preserving the integrity of the environment, our history and one thing you can’t buy back once it has sold: quality of life.
The Southeast is at a critical juncture concerning its future. You can see it, feel it, hear it and smell it. Shrugging in resignation at things you think you can’t control isn’t an option. If we don’t control the growth now, we might lose our last chance. Like kudzu, unbridled growth consumes everything in its path.
For now, might we politely suggest that some of you migratory birds wing it westward? California housing prices are dropping, I hear, and the heat there, if you don’t mind wrinkles, is gloriously dry.
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