Many years ago, a young woman who loved the beach and island life began to roam Pawleys Island with her family and friends to locate herbs and spices that grew wild. After many years, the woman started to partake in the sacrament of whiskey, but her addiction overcame her. After each passing day, the once-beautiful woman began to age, developing wrinkles, and eventually lost her family home.
The woman took up residence in a dilapidated shack just across the creek. Her demon became her best friend, and she needed more and more of it.
Eventually, the widow started wearing a black hat, and her hair grew long, appearing dirty and tangled, as people saw her collect firewood along the shoreline of Pawleys and on her occasional trips down to Georgetown.
Word quickly spread that the once-beautiful woman people had contacted for home remedies was a witch.
People began to show up at her door wanting a love potion. Often, they traded a bottle of whiskey for her services. The fire outside her old shack would burn for hours, as people could see her moving around it.
Eventually, the old witch died near her home. Many believe that she was buried with treasure and her secrets. Soon, people started digging, but no treasure was ever found.
Some say, late at night, when you’re standing on the tip of the south end of Pawleys and look across the creek, you can still see the witch’s fire burning, just as bright as it did many years ago. And, if you’re lucky, you may even get a glimpse of her moving in front of it.
(This story is found in Sherman Carmichael’s Strange South Carolina book. Go and buy a copy today.)
Written By: John G. Clark Jr
Source: Strange South Carolina, Sherman Carmichael
