I remember it like it was yesterday. Pulling into the parking lot on George Street, walking to the back door, and being buzzed into a long, drab hallway. As my mother and I walked down and around the corner, the view opened into a plethora of women's shoes. Where are we?  I thought. My mother, who I could tell was in her element, greeted those inside like she was a queen...not arrogantly but confidently...like she knew she belonged there. I accompanied her for years before I was able to actually receive my first pair of shoes from Bob Ellis. By then, it was in my blood. I was hooked. Bob Ellis was like family. 

For years after I moved away from Charleston, I did not buy shoes unless and until I returned home to Bob Ellis. Each time we returned, we entered the same way - through the plain, uninviting George Street back door instead of the grand King Street entrance. I think my mother liked feeling like this was her place. Familiar. Like if she used the front entrance, she would be a guest.

Like all high-end shoe stores, frequent visitors are always treated like family. It keeps us coming back. We had our own personal shoe guy, Wayne. When we walked into the store, hellos were exchanged and maybe a simple, "I am looking for a black high heel," or "I need a dressy sandal." Wayne would return with no less than fourteen boxes of everything from a flat to a boot including the dressy sandal and black high heel. We sat. He brought us shoes. What a marvelous experience!

Although I no longer wait to return to Charleston for my shoe needs, I still prefer the Bob Ellis experience. I have found that in Main and Taylor at North Hills. Jeff, my new shoe guy, always greets me, asks few questions, retreats to the back, and returns with stacks of shoes that he knows I will love and have to pray over before making any final decisions.

Beautiful shoes are as much a part of me as the hair on my head. Ironically, I no longer wear the shoes shown above; however, I have been unable to part with them because I appreciate their elegance, femininity, and sheer beauty. They remind me of happy times. They remind me of home.

My brother and I each have three kids. A boy and two girls for him and two girls and a boy for me ranging from 16 years down to 18 months. We grew up around a slew of cousins. Our grandmother had 12 children, and they all had children (averaging a little less than 4 children each). Although our cousins didn't all live in our town, we lived in the same town as our grandmother who was frequently visited by her children and grandchildren. We reaped those benefits and spent many a random evening or even a special holiday enjoying the company of extended family. There is a special bond that we still have with our cousins that I pray our children will inherit.

Quercus viriginiana - live oak indigenous to the southeastern United States - can be found all along the coastal areas in the south. The Angel Oak is estimated to be in excess of 400-500 years old and stands 66.5 feet tall. It measures 28 feet in circumference, produces shade that covers 17,200 square feet, and its longest branch is 187 feet from tip-to-tip. I love this tree. It draws me in every time with its curvy branches and wide base and keeps me coming back for more.

If you are in the Charleston, SC area and can squeeze in a visit, you should absolutely detour to Johns Island (just 15 miles south of the peninsula). I promise you will appreciate the Angel Oak in all of its grandeur!