Congaree Syrup: An Almost-True Story from the Cayce Riverwalk

Somewhere In the Midlands of South Carolina …

Near where the Broad River meets the Saluda River to make up the Congaree River, there once was a place that local folks only whispered about.

Not because it was dangerous.
But because it was a known place that wanted to be unknown.

This was back when the towns of Cayce and West Columbia were still considered “the wrong side of the river.” And if you ask some folks who have been around awhile, you’re liable to hear that it really wasn’t so long ago. These are the folks who still remember a man named Thomas Manor. Thomas did his amazing work just below what people know today as “The Avenues.”

Thomas didn’t advertise. He didn’t need to. Just as the Congaree waters move slowly and its fog sneaks in silently, so it was with Thomas’ special river place when folks needed him. Folks called what Thomas made there Congaree Syrup.

Sweeter Than Honey …

This syrup wasn’t the kind you pour on hotcakes, mind you. It had too much edge for that. Old folks tell us that his Congaree Syrup warmed a body from the inside out. And more than one of them said that a spoonful or two could actually loosen a stubborn chest cold, settle ornery bones, and even help a weary soul sleep better.

The fact that some say it also had a way of lifting a person’s spirits was considered by most folks on the Avenues as “part of the remedy.”

St. Thomas—Just Maybe …

Thomas was thought by many to be a bonafide saint. Nobody we talked with was able to recall Thomas ever selling anything there at the river’s edge. Plenty, however, remembered feeling better when they encountered this mystifying man.

Thomas Manor’s miraculous river healings are said to have taken place somewhere downstream of that rocky place near the Riverbank Zoo. That’s where the bank dips low and the trees lean like neighbors minding their own business while listening to everything taking place next door. They say, if you didn’t know where to look, you’d never find Thomas’ syrup contraption. But even today, some folks say the remnants are still there in plain sight for those who know where to look.

Being the humble man that he was, it seemed to suit Thomas to be hard to find. His only concern, according to most of those we talked with, was “getting it right.” The proof is in the pudding, as they say, because legend has it that Thomas Manor always got it right when it came to Congaree Syrup.

As Time Goes By …

Time, of course, has a way of changing scenery, and these days, the banks where Thomas Manor once did his miracle healing now welcome morning walkers, lunchtime joggers, young families, and old souls who like to sit quietly with their thoughts. Now the people call it the Cayce Riverwalk. It connects the towns on the West Bank of the Congaree to each other and to the peaceful river. In addition, it gives people there access to a most beautiful view of Columbia just beyond the water.

Where Thomas Manor once made Congaree Syrup for his neighbors, folks today come from miles around to stretch their legs, clear their heads, and watch the Congaree do what it’s always done.

They’ll even tell you that Thomas Manor liked to say, “Things there at the river are just how they should be.” He would tell them:

“Rivers remember what people forget.
They carry stories too—
Waiting on anyone willing to hear,
Or curious enough to discover
What might’ve happened

Before they lived…
Somewhere there along the Congaree.”

The Palmetto Silhouette …

Our Palmetto Silhouette today was crafted by my good friend Opa. He wasn’t just trying to show a bridge or a river. You can find plenty of those photos and paintings in homes and offices all around the Palmetto State. No. He made it to honor the stories that still linger nearby.

Opa’s Palmetto Silhouettes are not the kind of story you expect to find on a historical marker. But somehow, you just know those stories are telling truth if only you would stand there long enough to see what is.

When Opa does a silhouette, it’s either black or its white—light or darkness. There’s nothing in between. With nothing more than that, Opa creates amazing images of familiar places with fascinating stories still untold.

Our Story …

From the Bull Swamp near the Edisto River, for all the friends at Palmetto Barn … that’s our story, and we’re sticking to it.
May God bless you.