All posts by Laura Lance

A Four-Year Runaround

Part Two of a Three-Part Editorial

Prior to two confused actions by the City this summer — the first one listing the successful Taj Aiken restaurant building as abandoned; the second, opening the door to partial demolition of the building — there were four years of relentless back-and-forth. Plans were made, then changed; assurrances were given, then forgotten; promises were made and not honored. The recounting of this four-year history is not to open old wounds or re-plow old ground, but to give context to this summer’s events and perhaps incentivize a different way going forward.

The Pascalis Footprint

In November 2021, Alokkumar “Kumar” Akse, along with numerous other small business owners in the central downtown block, were informed that their buildings were to be demolished to make way for the Project Pascalis redevelopment project. They would need to move. Over the course of the next 56 months, this plan would change numerous times.

All of the business owners in this footprint were impacted. Disparities in the addressing of these impacts has been a feature. Some tenants were given five-year leases. One was given the option to purchase their building. Others were given funding to relocate. At least one described being effectively driven away.

Business partner Stacy O’Sullivan of Art and Soul, a successful, well-loved gallery and studio space for local artists, told some of their story for the Aiken Chronicles article Project Pascalis Includes the Alley. [Clarification: Stacy O’Sullivan and her business partner, Kim Rising, were part of the original Pascalis footprint, but never tenants of the City]. She also told the story in a July 2022 WJBF television news interview. telling Shawn Cabbagestalk, “We were invited to leave.” Citing issues of roof leaks, wood rot and unaddressed maintenance, she explained, “I think they would prefer for us not to be here because they would prefer to make three times the rent, and they’ve made that very clear to us in the beginning.”

Stacy O’Sullivan also described the City’s “disheartening” lack of communication and the fact that the huge redevelopment project didn’t take into consideration the small business owners who had already invested much “just by being there and conducting business.” Her words resonate today in the story of Taj Aiken, which has invested much, yet been left to spend the past four years in a state of perpetual limbo.

Irregularities

In June-July 2022, as irregularities in Project Pascalis began to surface, the demolition hearings were abruptly cancelled. The collapse of the entire project followed. With demolition no longer on the table, Mr. Kumar hoped to either buy his building from the City or sign a long-term lease.  

Nearly half of Aiken’s central City block was consumed by the Pascalis footprint in 2021, with the hearings for demolitions scheduled in July 2022. Among the buildings scheduled for demolition was the historic McGhee Block, Warneke Cleaners, and Newberry Hall (pictured above), along with State Farm, Alley Holdings, Holley House, Hotel Aiken, Ginger Bee, Vampire Penguin, Beyond Bijoux, and the old Aiken Standard building..

In November 2022, as detailed in the article, PU Funds Con Game? the City requested and later received a $26.2 million allocation of the State of South Carolina’s $600 million Plutonium Settlement funds. There were a number of irregularities cited in the City’s application, among them, the mischaracterization of the Pascalis properties — from Newberry Hall, to Taj Aiken, to Vampire Penguin — as “blighted.” City Council then approved spending $9.6 million of the plutonium funds to pay off the Pascalis general obligation bond debt for the original purchase of the Pascalis properties.

In January 2023, the City announced that the Savannah River National Laboratory (SRNL) had plans to build a 45,000 square ft lab in the Pascalis footprint using $20 million from separate Plutonium Settlement funds that had been allocated to SRNL. Mr. Kumar was assured by City officials and by SRNL director, Dr. Vahid Majidi, that Taj Aiken’s future in that location was secure. As Mayor Pro Tem Ed Woltz described in his January 2023 State of the City address:  

The plan is to preserve the existing businesses on the Block, leaving Newberry Hall    untouched, relocate Warneke Cleaners to the buildings at front of Richland Avenue. These retail buildings on Richland Avenue will be renting and upgraded  as part of the project and the Thai restaurant [the councilman was referring to Taj Aiken, which features Indian cuisine] would remain on Richland Avenue.” — Mayor Pro Tem Ed Woltz, January 2023

Believing that he now had sound basis for hope, Kumar began making improvements to Taj Aiken.

Promises

Kumar’s hope was bolstered by promises delivered in June 2023 from an Aiken Standard newspaper guest column penned by then-Mayor Rick Osbon. Addressing the fate of the small business owners in the footprint of this large project, which he enthusiastically supported, Osbon wrote:  

All involved in these initial planning stages have been clear that any local businesses potentially impacted, if the current preferred site being considered as selected, will be fully protected and made whole. Those highest of priorities include the Taj Aiken Restaurant, Warneke Cleaners, Newberry Hall, and the preservation of the C.C. Johnson Drug Store building at the corner of Richland Avenue and Newberry Street.”  Mayor Rick Osbon, June 2023

In October 2023, with the SRNL’s commitment to the project mysteriously evaporated over the months, plans changed. The size of the building, the footprint of the building, the name of the building, and, even the location of the building — all changed. At one point, Kumar was told that he would need to move, after all, as the project would need some of his space. When plans changed again, with the  SRNL project now moving a block to the north on Newberry Street, Mr. Kumar’s hopes were renewed for an extended lease or option to purchase the building. 

In February 2024, in response to Mr. Kumar’s request for a lease similar to the ones recently extended to other tenants in the Pascalis footprint, City Manager Stuart Bedenbaugh created a 5-year lease for Kumar to sign, which he reportedly did in front of both Bedenbaugh and Mayor Teddy Milner. Paradoxically, the City did not sign the lease and, instead, advised Kumar to check back with them — which he did on a monthly basis.

Fourteen Months Later

In April 2025 — fourteen months after he’d signed the lease — Mr. Kumar attended a City Council meeting requesting that City officials sign the lease, just as they’d done with other tenants in the Pascalis footprint. A transcript of Mr. Kumar’s statement can be read in the article, “An Aiken Institution: Taj Aiken….” His statements can also be heard in the video clip from the meeting, beginning at minute 39:45, linked beneath the screenshot below.

Clip from April 14, 2025 City Council meeting


Following Mr. Kumar’s statement was an exchange between Councilwoman Diggs and Jacob Ellis, a local citizen and former City Council candidate, who, describing Kumar as a pillar of our community, advocated for fair treatment of the restaurant. Councilwoman Diggs described her own witness of Mr. Kumar’s generosity as she watched him help out an elderly couple in the dollar store parking lot. Neither the Mayor nor the City Manager responded to Mr. Kumar’s questions on his lease.

Two Weeks Later

On April 28, 2025, Mr. Kumar returned to City Council chambers. Having received no response from the City on signing his lease, he inquired about the possibility of buying some of the buildings in the Pascallas footprint. He was prepared to do this. Mr. Kumar’s statement can be viewed here on the City of Aiken meeting video.

The responses to Kumar’s statement from others in attendance can be viewed in this same video at minute 46:15, linked here. Citizens Lisa Smith and Kelly Cornelius spoke, with Ms. Cornelius’ statement likely expressing the thoughts of many who had been following the story of Project Pascalis and the small business owners in its footprint:

“I think all of you know how passionate people were about saving those buildings, but it wasn’t just about saving the historic buildings. It’s about the small businesses that were housed in those buildings. And so, I would urge you to do whatever you can to keep somebody like Kumar in this community. And I would have that handled before you bring that sale forward. I mean, he asked why not give him a seat at the table. And why not give him a seat at the table? 

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the online comments, but he has an amazing support group in this community. He’s just an outstanding member of this community and I would hope that you would see him for that. And that’s exactly the kind of business that we want to have downtown. And so I would hope that you would give him a seat at the table.” — Kelly Cornelius, April 28, 2025

Mayor Pro Tem Ed Girardeau responded at length in discussion with Lisa Smith, with some of his words responding to the concerns Ms. Cornelius had just articulated:

“I can’t imagine if one of these developers actually goes forward and does this that he won’t be included in that. He’s a successful businessman, a successful restaurant. That’s what they want. They’ll work it out. But I’m sure that Mr. Kumar will be included in all of this in some way, shape, or form.” — Mayor Pro Tem Ed Girardeau, April 28, 2025

Fourteen Months Later

On June 8, 2026, Mr. Kumar returned to City Council chambers, this time to bring his concerns regarding a Resolution that the City was bringing to the table that evening. With this Resolution, the City was prepared to certify 20 building units in the Pascalis footprint as abandoned properties. Included were 113 Newberry Street and 213 Richland Avenue, the address of, respectively, Warneke Cleaners and Taj Aiken. After four years of this, it should come as no surprise that the City of Aiken landlord had apparently not communicated this latest change with their tenant at 213 Richland Avenue.

_________________

NEXT:

Part Three: The events of June and July 2026 as the successful Taj Aiken restaurant at 213 Richland Avenue is listed as an abandoned property, then not abandoned, then approved for partial demolition.

The City’s Slow-Motion Demolition of an Aiken Institution

Part One of a Three-Part Editorial

Last month, the home of the highly popular and successful Taj Aiken restaurant, which is very much open for business, was erroneously listed as an abandoned building by the City of Aiken. Then it wasn’t. This month, the City’s Design Review Board called for a motion in its July 7 meeting to partially demolish the historic Aiken Standard building that has housed the busy Taj Aiken restaurant at 213 Richland Avenue for the past five years. What’s going on here? After 4 years of back and forth by City offices, this question deserves an honest answer. 

Mention the restaurant, Taj Aiken, or the name of its owner, Alokkumar “Kumar” Akse, to anyone in Aiken, and you may hear an outpouring of stories about the generosity and goodwill of this small business owner and his restaurant’s support for the Aiken community.

Most recently, on July 4, 2026, Taj Aiken was in the local news after Mr. Kumar, as he is well known, extended a gesture of appreciation for the hard work and dedication of the Aiken County Sheriff’s Department officers by providing boxed lunches to the search crews working in those earliest hours of the Javeayah Harris tragedy.

Taj Aiken’s boxed lunches have been a staple of many such kind efforts over the years.

In June 2020, Mr. Kumar thanked our local first responders for their selfless service in the pandemic (“epic heroes,” he called them) by delivering “delectable meals” to them at the Aiken Regional Medical Centers. 

There is also that annual Christmas tradition at Taj Aiken, where one day every December since 2021, the Aiken community has been cordially invited to stop by and pick up one of the hundreds of free boxed meals prepared by Taj Aiken. The December 2025 event, in which 550 boxed lunches were given away, was a collaborative effort to raise money for the Salvation Army’s Red Kettle fund. 

There was also that time on October 2024, after Hurricane Helene tore through Aiken and left many without electricity and other essentials for days and weeks. Kumar rose to the occasion by providing free boxed lunches to the general public every day over the course of a week — and with special invitation to “lineman, police, health care and all front line workers who worked tirelessly to bring our lives to normal.”

There was also that time just a few weeks ago, on July 2, when Mr. Kumar visited Aiken’s Teen After School Center. As he described on the Taj Aiken Facebook page:

“Their work in our community is remarkable, and it’s clear that the kids are our future. We were informed that the center needs help from the community to create a dedicated space for students to study and more. While it’s impossible for one person to do everything alone, we firmly believe that together, we can make a difference. Taj is ready to contribute materials to this worthy cause. We appeal to the people of our town to join us in making this a reality. Your donation of materials, money, or skills will be instrumental in bringing this project to fruition.”

If the term “boxed lunches” conjures images of baloney sandwiches and bags of chips, a glance at the photos of the finely prepared, flavorful Indian cuisine in Taj Aiken’s boxes will quickly dispel that. These are some of the same flavors and scents that greet visitors to his restaurant at 213 Richland Ave.

Indian Fare “Kaleidoscopically Seasoned” 

The deliciousness of Taj Aiken’s fare and the artistry of the spices has been the topic of local restaurant reviews at Augusta Magazine, the Aiken Standard newspaper, and online sites from reviewers like Michael Stern, whose superlatives on the food have included magnificent, stunning, and kaleidoscopically seasoned. Stir into this festive place the goodwill of a man like Mr. Kumar, and you might witness people transforming into a community.

This is why his restaurant has been described as “an Aiken institution” and why Alokkumar Aske has been described as “a pillar of the community.” This is also why some 1407 Aiken citizens signed an online petition calling for Mr. Kumar to be presented with a Key to the City in appreciation for his contributions to the Aiken community in the Hurricane Helene recovery, during which he opened his doors, his wallet and his heart to provide over 1900 free boxed lunches to anyone who wanted one. As one lunch recipient wrote on social media, “Taj Aiken was a beacon of light and hope during a very challenging time.”

While many of us know about the large efforts through news headlines and social media, not everyone sees the smaller efforts that commence without fanfare or mention. Councilwoman Diggs witnessed one such incident and described it during a City Council meeting. (More on that in Part Two in this editorial series).

Giving back, it seems, is a way of life for Mr. Kumar.

One might wonder (I did) what compels Mr. Kumar to these acts of generosity and goodwill. I was told by several of the regular patrons to his restaurant that it’s just who he is.

In Mr. Kumar’s own words, speaking at the 5th annual free boxed lunch giveaway in December 2025, he said, “I feel lucky to be able to do this for the people. I thank God for that He gives us something for us to give back. I like the festival. I like the Christmas tradition so we can give back and do something,”

One might also wonder, (I did), why the old Aiken Standard building that has housed Mr. Kumar’s restaurant for the past 5 years was declared “abandoned” last month by the City of Aiken, and why the City’s Design Review Board appears to have voted this past week, against its own preservation ordinance, to approve partial demolition of this historic building. I have asked these questions and come up empty. Perhaps others, reading this story, can make sense of it. 

__________________

NEXT: 

Part Two: The Pascalis footprint from 2022-2025 plus some testimonials from the podium.

Part Three: The events of June and July 2026 as the successful Taj Aiken restaurant at 213 Richland Avenue is listed as abandoned, then not abandoned, then approved for partial demolition.

The Pond

By Laura Lance
September 7, 2025

For anyone who might have traveled within a mile of USCA in late August on either Trolley Line Road or the Robert M. Bell Parkway and was hit with an unbearable, foul odor of something rotten, that was the smell of a pond and wetland habitat behind the Convocation Center. The pond and nearby vegetation had recently been plowed under and covered over by massive earth-moving equipment.  The myriad frogs, toads, turtles, snakes and wetland plants that called the pond home were smothered into an anaerobic stew of death, creating a stench so powerful that it could be smelled a mile away. 

So what kind of pond was this? Why was it there? How long had it been there?

Long enough to draw a diverse community of flora and fauna. My granddaughter spent many hours this summer visiting the pond and the nearby longleaf forest, whose paths she’s been exploring since she was eight.

ABOVE: A familiar path through the nearby longleaf forest in 2017.
BELOW: A patch of woods destroyed above the pond earlier this summer.

Over the summer, she watched as the cattails emerged from the boggy margin on the north end of the pond. She watched as the tadpoles grew into toads and into the large frogs who poked their heads above the water and watched her as she explored along the shore. She observed the day-to-day economies of the numerous birds, reptiles, amphibians, wetland plants, spiders and insects that relied on this serendipitous little ecosystem — an incidental pond formed, perhaps, during an earlier phase of development on this landscape.

My granddaughter’s primary interest was in studying the harvester ants who have likely always occupied this land, and have occupied her interest since the age of four. She already understood their days were numbered. She’d already witnessed acre after acre of longleaf forest and its native inhabitants destroyed along the Trolleyline corridor in recent years. All the more urgency to study them and appreciate these native communities before the developer’s maw rolled in to consume them.

ABOVE: The harvester ants carrying a few of the seeds (millet, sunflower and staghorn sumac) that were brought to them to learn more about their preferences.

From a legal standpoint, there were probably no laws broken — or, at least, no laws that anyone would be inclined to enforce. It is illegal, for instance, to kill snakes on public property in South Carolina without a permit. Perhaps the killing was permitted, but even if it weren’t, it’d take a team of lawyers and activists to produce the evidence and enforce the $200 fine for breaking that law.

It would have been likewise illegal for the driver of the earth-moving machinery to hop into a car and transport one of those frogs across the state line for sale in Augusta — but not against the law to plow under and bury alive an entire community of snakes, turtles, frogs, toads, lizards, ants, catails and numerous other wetland plants.

A sampling of the daily animal tracks left in the sandy path near the pond.

My point here is not about laws, but about the ethics. My granddaughter well understands the pragmatics of land use; she understands how most of Aiken County’s “undeveloped” lands are but a breath away from becoming “developed” lands, their trees and sometimes extraordinary understory habitats destroyed by one fell swoop after another. She was well aware that the clock was ticking for this pond and its inhabitants. What she wasn’t prepared for was the violent end they’d meet. 

From an ethical standpoint, this was wrong. It was just as wrong as it would be to toss gunny sacks full of puppies or box turtles into a pond. I am not here to say how the situation at the pond off Trolleyline should have been handled; only to state that it was grossly wrong and to hope that —- since there are apparently no laws against displacing and sometimes killing wildlife in the course of development — by putting these words to paper, it might foster a greater consciousness toward the ethics of our relationships with the natural world.

The pond, before and after.

Correction: The last paragraph has been edited to say “displacing and sometimes killing wildlife in the course of development.”

A Retrospective on Aiken’s Railroad Bridges: Part Three

By Laura Lance

This three-part series places Aiken’s railroad cut and wooden bridges in historic context — the development and building of the Charleston-Hamburg line; issues of deterioration and upkeep; the human stories; the environmental elements; the costs.

Part Three of Three
The Bridges

In 1897, the SC Legislature passed a bill requiring the South Carolina & Georgia Railroad Company to erect and repair certain bridges over Aiken’s railroad cut, and to open up and grade crossings at other streets over the railroad, and to maintain the same.

The situation was urgent. According to one account in March 1897, the bridge on Newberry Street was “getting to be dangerous.” The Laurens Street bridge had recently received emergency repair by a policeman, who had to replace a plank in the bridge “to prevent further accident, one horse having fallen into the hole before it was discovered.” The other bridges [Union and York] were said to be “in bad repair.”23

In late 1897, the City and the railroad company came to an agreement whereby the railroad would, among other things, rebuild the bridges at Laurens, Newberry and York within two years. The timeline on the fulfillment of this agreement is stubborn to find in local accounts, however, the Aiken Journal and Review made a brief mention on January 10, 1911 that the bridge being built over the railroad cut at Laurens Street was nearing completion.

The Bridges

Postcard: Southern Railroad cut at Aiken, SC. 1908. Souvenir Post Card Co. In the public domain.

The Laurens Street Bridge
Erected circa 1852-1855

City Council records from throughout the 1960s show the mayor, city manager, and even the First Presbyterian Church pleading with the railroad company to address the poor visibility of the hump-backed bridge, the drooping railing, the axle-jarring holes and the ongoing rot. In those days, the First Presbyterian Church congregation used the Laurens Street bridge as a pedestrian crossing to travel from the church at the corner of Park and Laurens to the Sunday school at the Grace Estate located on the other side of the bridge.

When letters and calls failed to move the railroad, the City and church began sending letters directly to the president of the company. The church sent a second letter in 1966 to express “grave concern at the generally deteriorating condition of the Laurens Street bridge.”21

When the bridge was finally resurfaced in 1966, a brief in the local newspaper hailed the improvement as “ probably one of the most appreciated things that has been done in Aiken in the past three centuries.”24

The bridge was closed in 1971 after being declared by the Aiken Director of Public Safety to be “in unsafe condition due to erosion and a lack of maintenance.”3 The condition of the railroad cut, after nearly 10 years of abandonment by the railroad company, had left erosion to undermine the tracks and the bridge’s concrete foundation, which the Public Safety Director described as “cracked and undercut.”3

In 1974, a perfect storm of deferred and unresolved issues led to the collapse of the bridge. When the bridge collapsed again in 2012, erosion was cited as the cause after a heavy rain eroded away the soil under the bridge supports.25 

The Laurens Street bridge as seen from the Newberry Street bridge. Photographer: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008.

Both of the bridge collapses were unexpected. Either could have resulted in loss of life. Fortunately, the bridge was closed during both collapses. During the 1974 collapse, the bridge was closed for repairs, with the workers actually under the bridge when the collapse began. During the 2012 collapse, the bridge had been closed due to an observant passerby who noticed a shift in the bridge’s elevation and alerted public safety. 

In the months leading up to the 1970s bridge replacement, some of the Laurens Street residents living near the bridge lobbied to either keep the bridge permanently closed or make it a pedestrian-only bridge, as they’d come to appreciate the peace and quiet.

Two factors drove the design of the 2012 bridge replacement. One was the new 23-foot clearance requirement by the railroad company, which increased the bridge height by three feet and necessitated major disruption of the roadway approach and closure of Colleton Street on the southside of the bridge. The other factor, as described in April 2012 City Council meeting minutes, was the federal emergency funding secured for the bridge by the governor’s executive order, the terms of which gave the City 180 days to complete the project.

The bridge fell in April 2012, was demolished in June, and its replacement completed in October just slightly past the 180-day deadline.

June 2025 views of the 2012 Laurens Street bridge replacement, which drew heavy criticism after its completion in October 2012. The City made efforts to improve the appearance with landscaping and by painting the chain link fence black. Click photos for larger view. Photographs by Michael Aiken.

Aesthetics and historic design considerations had not part of the process. The end result drew major criticism and compelled City Council to place the remaining three wooden bridges at York, Fairfield and Union Street on the historic register and to give the Design Review Board jurisdiction over the design of future bridges with a Certificate of Appropriateness required.

The Newberry Street Bridge
Erected circa 1852-1855

An 1893 newspaper account described the “dangerous” condition of the Newberry Street bridge. One hundred years later, in 1993, City Council members were discussing the “continuing deterioration” of the Newberry Street bridge and calling for its replacement. 

Also in 1993, the SCDOT backed out of an earlier commitment to help fund the rehabilitation of the Newberry Street and York Street bridges. This, even as the substandard condition of the railroad bridges was said to be compromising the response times of emergency vehicles. According to the City Manager at that time, “In the event of a fire, the city has to cross either the Laurens Street or Chesterfield Street bridges and then backtrack to the fire.”26

In 1994, a Newberry Street bridge inspection found no signs of erosion. In 1995, inspectors found the soil around the foundation caving in from erosion, which compelled the immediate closure and replacement of the bridge. This incident illustrated the speed with which critical damages can be inflicted to the foundation from the effects of rain in just one year’s time. 

Stories of flooding, landslides, cave-ins, and erosion, with attendant damage to tracks and bridges, have always existed in the railroad cut. Modern-day attention to stormwater runoff has abated, but not eliminated, the effects of weather on the landscape in the railroad cut.

In January 1997, City Council considered and approved the design for the Newberry Street bridge replacement. Included in the discussion were requests from Newberry Street residents to close this bridge off to vehicular traffic and make it pedestrian-only, as the bridge closure had made their neighborhood quieter and more close-knit. 

Newberry Street bridge railing. Photographer carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008.

Council voted to approve funding for the vehicular bridge. The SCDOT agreed to cover 80% of the cost, with the City and railroad company each paying 10%. The City paid an additional $29k above cost to fund a Historic Commission-approved bridge railing designed to be in keeping with the 1937-era railing on the nearby Chesterfield Street bridge. This brought the total shares for the railroad company and city to, respectively, $115k and $144k. 

During negotiations, the railroad company offered to pay the city’s share if the City would agree to take on the future responsibility for maintenance, repair and replacement of the rest of the railroad bridges. The City declined. 

The Chesterfield Street Bridge
Erected circa 1894-1897

Chesterfield Street bridge in 2008. The Newberry and Laurens Street bridges are visible beyond. Photographer: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008.

A May 20, 1885 Aiken Journal and Review brief mentioned that a petition had been drawn up by Aiken citizens to have a bridge built over the railroad cut on Chesterfield just below the jail. Twelve years later, in December 1897, an agreement was reached between the City of Aiken and the South Carolina & Georgia Railroad for the railroad company to erect a bridge at Fairfield Street within 6 months and to rebuild the bridges at Laurens, Newberry and York within two years. The stipulation was that all these bridges be built in the same style as the “new”23 wooden bridge at Chesterfield Street. These newspaper accounts offer solid clues on when these bridges were built. 

The Chesterfiield Street bridge as viewed from the southbound lane of the York Street bridge. 2010. Photographer carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2010.

The Chesterfield Street bridge was, of course, replaced in 1937 by the federal government, presumably as part of FDR’s 1930s New Deal infrastructure projects. The total cost for the 105-ft reinforced concrete bridge was $16,618. At 88 years of age today, the Chesterfield Street bridge could be Aiken’s oldest railroad bridge. Who knows? 

Views of the Chesterfield Street railing. June 2025. Photographs by Michael Aiken.

The York Street Bridge
Erected circa 1852-1855

Over the past 100 years, the York Street bridge(s) have reportedly been replaced four times — in 1933, 1952, 1993 and 2017. 

The newly-built northbound lane of the York Street prior to opening in 2017.
Photograph by Michael Aiken.

Before 1952, there was only one bridge at York. In 1952, a second bridge was added in the northbound lane. At that time, Aiken’s northside was experiencing major growth with the influx of population from the Savannah River Plant. 

In March 1993, Norfolk Southern began work tearing down and replacing the northbound lane of York Street. The construction took longer than expected due to a delay in the arrival of 39 specialty timbers needed to finish the job.27 The delay provoked a barrage of complaints and prompted SC House Representative Irene Rudnick to draft legislation requiring any bridge under 150 feet to have work completed within 60 days or face a $1000 per day fine.28 The railroad finished the northbound lane in October, followed by the southbound lane in December 1993.

The York Street bridge, northbound lane, as viewed from the Fairfield Street bridge in 2008. Photographer carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008.

Less than 25 years later, in 2016, the York Street bridges were closed by the SCDOT, their condition described as “dilapidated” and “in need of total replacement.”29 Because the bridges had been designated Historic Landmark status on the Aiken Historic Register in 2013, the design of the new 2017 bridge was drawn in collaboration with local historical preservationists, community input, local leaders, and the SCDOT. The idea was to preserve the historic, wooden-bridge aesthetic in a design with longer-term structural integrity.

ABOVE: More views of the newly-constructed York Street bridge replacement in 2017, taken in the days before official opening. Photographs by Michael Aiken.

The Fairfield Street Bridge
Erected in 1899

In December 1885, the Aiken Town Council instructed the Intendant (a precursor to the office of Mayor) to contact South Carolina Railway and request them to erect bridges “over their excavation where it crosses the streets of Fairfield and Chesterfield.”30 And to put teeth into the request, Council threatened legal action. 

ABOVE: The Fairfield Street bridge as it looked from the Colleton side looking toward Park Avenue in 2023, seven years into closure. Photograph by Laura Lance.

This was, perhaps, a reflection of the mood of a town through which a deep ravine had been dug some 30 years earlier, dividing the town in two; a severed town growing impatient with the railroad company’s unfulfilled commitment to reconnect the two sides of town with bridges.

The Aiken Town Council’s 1885 request for a bridge at Fairfield was followed eight months later by the Charleston earthquake, whose damages drove the railroad company back into receivership. The Fairfield Street bridge was finally built in 1899. 

Disclaimer: There are no standardized definitions in newspaper accounts to differentiate between terms such as built, rebuilt, replaced, repaired and rehabilitated. No attempt is made here to define or draw distinctions between these terms. Also, records regarding any replacements or major rehabilitation of the Fairfield Street bridge after its original 1899 construction are sparse and contradictory. Railroad company records could provide specifics, but are not integral to the purpose of this article.

Norfolk Southern spokespersons, quoted in various local media, have stated that the Fairfield Street bridge was “replaced” in 1952. According to a 2016 SCDOT bridge inspection report, the existing bridge was “built” in 1992. Yet, on January 12, 1998, the bridge made the AAA Carolina list of structurally deficient bridges. The bridge was closed for three days in February 1999 while the SCDOT did preventative maintenance on the timbers. “A single timber piling was added to the bridge to provide extra support next to a timber, which was rotting.”31

In 2016, the bridge was closed in the wake of an SCDOT structural inspection report that rated the conditions of its deck and superstructure as poor and rated the substructure, or foundation, as failed. A later inspection in 2020 by the engineering firm, Davis and Floyd found worsening in the bridge condition since the 2016 SCDOT report.

In late 2019, the SCDOT agreed to pay $1.3 million of the cost (then estimated at $2.1 to $3.1 million total) to replace the Fairfield Street Bridge. In 2020, during a City Council work session (see screenshots below), council members heard a presentation by Mr. Todd Warren, representative of the Columbia, SC engineering firm, Davis and Floyd. Three options for bridge replacement were reviewed.

Screenshots from minutes of September 14, 2020 City Council work session discussion on the Fairfield Street bridge to include a recap of the inspection reports and the three options for bridge replacement. Click for full-size view.

In 2020, the City lacked a clear path to funding its share of the bridge replacement. In 2024, the City was able to fund up to $3 million, the funding primarily sourced from Aiken’s share of the $600 million plutonium settlement awarded to the state in 2020. Under the agreement with SCDOT, the City is to assume ownership of this bridge in perpetuity.

In the absence of future nuclear industry windfalls, the funding for future bridge replacements may be stubborn to materialize.

The replacement cost for the Fairfield Street bridge was estimated at $184k in 1991. In 1993, the estimate rose to $450k. In 2013, the estimate was as high as $700k. In 2020, estimates were given for three different bridge options, ranging from $2.1 to $3.2 million. In 2025, those three estimates now range from $3.8 to $5.8 million, with the lower-priced option buying a bridge with higher repair costs that will also need to be replaced every 30 years.

Of course, the three options were for a vehicular bridge. To date, there have been no options offered for a pedestrian bridge. Given the large public support for a pedestrian bridge, as voiced in the May 6, 2025 Design Review Board City meeting, the pedestrian options should be on the table during the next round of discussions.

ABOVE: More views of the Fairfield Street bridge. May 2025. Photos by Michael Aiken.

The Union Street Bridge
Erected circa 1855-1861

An exchange of communications between the AikenTown Council and the attorneys for the railroad, published in the Aiken Journal and Review in 1885, indicated that there were several bridges built over the length of Aiken’s railroad cut by 1855, but a Union Street bridge was not one of them.32 In 1876, however, bids were being taken by Aiken County Commissioners for repairs or rebuilding of the Union Street Bridge.33 Considering these breadcrumbs of fact and the history, it is all but certain that the first Union Street bridge was built before the Civil War. 

The Union Street bridge viewed from the Fairfield Street bridge in 2009.. Photographer: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2009.

The Union and Fairfield Street bridges are the last two of the older-style wooden bridges that once spanned all six crossings. The railroad cut is shallowest at Union Street, which has compelled the shape of the bridge and its attending moniker, “high bridge,” for much of its existence. The bridge’s awkward configuration has been a factor in numerous accidents, mishaps, mysteries and tragedies over the years, not to mention the ongoing saga to maintain this perpetually crumbling structure. 

Certain allowances have always been made for the Union Street bridge, with a loyal following of admirers pushing back against talk of changing the bridge. It’s that higgledy-piggledy charm; it’s the fact that this is the last of the hump-backed bridges; it’s a fondness for the earlier era of steam engines, when all of Aiken’s railroad bridges had a similar vaulted shape, although none so high as the Union Street bridge. Even as its steep, gabled pitch was a necessity, the design has been the source of longstanding concern, as drivers were unable to see over their hoods while traversing the bridge, and were blind to pedestrians who might be crossing on the other side.

Union Street bridge deck in 2008. Photographer: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008.

A November 1974 Aiken Standard story began with the question, “The Union Street bridge: Is it picturesque or just dangerous?” From there, the article described in words and photos a scene of “neglect” with trash littering the railroad cut below and, above, daylight peeking through a deteriorated bridge whose thick asphalt had eroded to reveal weathered and rotting planks; a bridge with “chunks of pavement the size of baseballs” scattered in its potholes; a bridge whose railing had been leaning “dangerously over the edge, pulling out its own nails.”34

Aiken Public Safety had reported the bridge’s “precarious condition” to the railroad company three months earlier, in August 1974, and the railroad company responded by sending its bridge supervisor to inspect the bridge.35 This was followed by a re-nailing of the bridge railing and by propping a wooden plank “between the bridge and a handy tree” to support the sagging rail. 34

As the article noted, the railroad company was bound by a 1898 agreement to maintain the bridge. The problem, (as would later be pointed out by City Attorney James Holley during City Council discussion in 1990 over the deteriorating conditions of the Newberry, York and Fairfield Street bridges) was that, while the 1898 agreement stipulated the railroad company would maintain the bridges, it did not specify the standards for that maintenance. 

A similar lack of specificity may have played a role in the railroad company’s failure throughout most of the 19th century to honor its early 1850s agreement to build and maintain the bridges across the railroad cut in exchange for permission from the Town Council to dig that red gash through the center of town. 

The 1974 condition of the Union Street bridge appeared to be a matter of history repeating itself. The City’s hands were already full that year with ongoing litigation with the railroad company and contractors over the collapse of the Laurens Street bridge earlier that year, so the issues of the Union Street bridge went unchallenged. Thebridge has been closed numerous times since the 1970s for repairs and rehabilitation of the decking.

In January 2023, the bridge was closed by the SDDOT due to “unspecified structural problems.” Replacement with a vehicular bridge is no longer being considered due to the degree of disruption this would create to the roadways, parkways, and neighborhoods on either side of the bridge. There is popular support for a pedestrian bridge. The feasibility and cost of this option have yet to be studied. 

ABOVE: The Union Street bridge in April 2023, three months after its closure in January 2023. Photographs by Laura Lance

ABOVE: More views of the closed Union Street bridge. June 2025.
Photos by Michael Aiken.

Looking Forward

Today, the 136-mile railroad from Charleston to Hamburg no longer exists. The current line runs from Charleston to Branchville, about 60 miles east of Aiken. It picks up again near the Oakwood community on the other side of Montmorenci. The railroad between Branchville and Oakwood was abandoned in the 1980s, and most of the tracks were removed by the 1990s. The surviving 13-mile track from Oakwood to Warrenville is currently leased by Aiken Railway, a short line railroad company whose freight includes kaolin, glass fiber products, and feed and seed. 

The physical presence of the historic Charleston to Hamburg line has all but vanished from the Aiken area over the past century. First went the steam engine, then the loss of passenger service in 1950, then the demolition of Aiken’s passenger station in 1954, then the incremental loss of freight service, the abandonment of the line, the tearing up of the tracks, the loss of the old wooden bridges, and the elemental disappearance of the very earth of the railroad cut — gone with the wind, along with a history that apparently cannot be told in polite company. 

What remains to Aiken is a working, 13-mile short-line railroad; two severely deteriorated wooden bridges; and a railroad cut whose ongoing erosion carries the potential to undermine the bridges and adjacent properties.

ABOVE: View of the Aiken tracks from near the intersection of Charleston Street and Park Avenue. June 2025. Photo by Michael Aiken.

Aiken is not the only town in the state to inherit a vanished railroad. Currently, 350 miles of South Carolina’s abandoned railroad beds have been transformed into parts of the Palmetto Trail, a network for pedestrian and bicycle travel, with an additional 150 miles planned. Repurposing old railroad beds for pedestrian trails seems a worthy form of preservation. The same can be said for the old wooden bridges.

During the May 6 Design Review Board meeting on the Fairfield Street bridge, a large number of people came to speak, with the majority in favor of making this a pedestrian-only bridge. As one speaker pointed out, the Fairfield bridge is part of the historic Colleton and South Boundary corridor — an area heavily traveled by people who come from all over town to walk, run, push strollers, bicycle, and walk their dogs. A pedestrian bridge in the most pedestrian-friendly neighborhood in town makes good sense. 

In a city increasingly estranged from itself by overdevelopment, we should be creating more of these places — more tree-lined streets where people might want to walk; more pedestrian-friendly neighborhoods; more bicycle-friendly routes and sidewalks for people to travel from one place to another.

Restoring Aiken’s last two wooden bridges to their original 19th-century uses, before the age of the automobile, seems a worthy form of preservation. Can this be accomplished without demolishing the bridges outright? Good question. This and all options for pedestrian bridges should be on the table for consideration. Drawing lessons from history, we always have the option to learn from our mistakes.


______________________

For Reference

  1. Editors, Journal and Review. “The Railroad Bridge Bill.” Aiken Journal and Review. December 15, 1897.
  2. Wilder, Mary. “Resurfacing of Laurens Street Bridge Immeasurable Relief to Motorized Population.” Aiken Standards and Review. July 12, 1966 
  3. Banton, Amy. “Laurens Street Bridge Continues to Collapse.” Aiken Standard, April 5, 2012. Bridge closed when passing motorist noticed the southwestern part of the bridge had sunk 16 inches.
  4. Lord, Philip. “DOT Backing Off on Aiken Bridges.” Aiken Standard. August 11, 1993. 
  5. Lord, Philip, “Timbers ‘Holding Up’ Bridge Repairs.” Aiken Standard. July 12, 1993. 
  6. Lord, Philip. “Bridge Work Delayed Again.” Aiken Standard. August 26, ne1993. 
  7. Editorial. “Aiken Needs to Fix its Wooden Bridges.” Aiken Standard. February 23, 2016. 
  8. Aiken Journal and Review. Page 3. December 23, 1885. 
  9. “Aiken Bridge Reopened.” Aiken Standard. February 20, 1999. 
  10. “Bridges Over the Railroad Cut.” Aiken Journal and Review. May 22, 1885.
  11. Public notice in Aiken Journal and Review. February 12, 1876.
  12. Wendel, Debby. ”Picturesque Bridge Still Needs Repairs.” Aiken Standard and Review. November 29, 1974.
  13. Wendel, Debby. ”Southern Railroad Bridge Precarious.” Aiken Standard and Review. August 17, 1974.

A Retrospective on Aiken’s Railroad Bridges: Part Two

By Laura Lance

Part Two of Three:
The Charleston-Hamburg Line
Romantic Notions
Learning Curves
The Railroad Cut

The Charleston-Hamburg Line

The South Carolina Canal and Rail Road Company built the original Charleston to Hamburg line, which was completed in 1833. At that time, it was the longest railroad line in the world.

Cut of “A new map of South Carolina with its canals, roads & distances from place to place along the stage & steam boat routes.” by Henry Schenck Tanner (1786-1858) in 1833. The  earliest general map to show the South Carolina Canal and Rail Road Company’s line. Altered.

Within 10 years, other new companies were started and new lines laid throughout the state. By the start of the Civil War, South Carolina could boast 13 railroads with over 985 miles of track. By the turn of the twentieth century, the 136-mile Charleston-Hamburg line would be part of an elaborate network spanning the entire country, encompassing nearly 200,000 miles of railways.7

The ownership of the Charleston to Hamburg Railroad was reorganized and/or changed hands several times during the 19th century and beyond. Each of these changes represented periods of growth and/or financial struggle. 

  • South Carolina Canal and Rail Road Company: 1828 (bought by the Louisville, Cincinnati & Charleston Railroad Company in 1937)
  • South Carolina Rail Road Company, 1843
  • South Carolina Railway Company 1881
  • South Carolina and Georgia Railroad Company 1894
  • Southern Railway Company 1899
  • Norfolk Southern Railway 1982 [Aiken Railway 2012, a short line railroad, leases local track from Norfolk Southern]6

During lean times, the line did well to survive. During periods of prosperity, improvements were made. The construction of Aiken’s six railroad bridges was roughly aligned with two periods of prosperity. The first occurred during the decade after the railroad cut was created, (1852-1862), and the second occurred during the final decade of the 19th century. 

These two periods bookended the Civil War and its aftermath, which had left the state economy threadbare and the railroad in shambles. The company was fairly quickly able to recover the tracks and other infrastructure destroyed by Sherman’s troops in 1865, but numerous other factors drove the company deeper into debt. In 1878, the South Carolina Rail Road Company was forced into receivership and sold at auction in 1881 to northern capitalists, who took control from the Charleston capitalists who had managed and directed it for over 50 years.7

Five years later, the newly-formed South Carolina Railway Company would take two major hits. In the first, the company was forced to change the gauge of the tracks — and, accordingly, acquire a new fleet of cars and engines — to match the standard across the Eastern Seaboard. The second was the Charleston earthquake of 1886, whose estimated magnitude of 6.9-7.3 rocked the entire state, the shock and damages extending into every region, including Aiken County.

“Wrecked at Langley.” One of two train derailments caused by water from the dam breaks at Langley and Bath during the Charleston earthquake of August 31st, 1886. Photographed by James A. Palmer, Aiken, S.C. In the public domain.

In Horse Creek Valley, the Langley dam broke, followed by the Bath dam. In the wake, two different trains derailed, their engines washed off the tracks. The lives of two engine firemen were lost in the two wrecks.The railroad was to fall back into receivership and changed hands twice more before the turn of the century.7

Prosperity began to take root, however, with the rise in passenger service during the 1880s-1890s . In the mid-1890s, the Chesterfield Street bridge was built. In 1897, following years of tension over issues with the railroad bridges, an agreement was reached between the South Carolina and Georgia Railroad Co. and Aiken officials. The company was to replace the York, Newberry and Laurens Street bridges within two years, with designs to match the newly-built Chesterfield Street bridge.8 In 1899, the company erected a new bridge at Fairfield Street and built Aiken’s Southern Railway passenger station at Union Street.

Postcard: The Southern Railroad station. Hugh C. Leighton Co., Portland, Maine (publisher) 1905. This work is in the public domain.

For the next 50 years, the railroad’s financial health ebbed and flowed with US wars,  booms, busts, and the Great Depression. By 1950, the railroad industry had made the switch from steam to diesel, which marked the swan song of the steam locomotive.

ABOVE: From the publication, “The First Quarter-Century of Steam Locomotives in North America.” Smithsonian Institution. Smith Hempstone Oliver, Curator of Land Transportation. United States National Museum. Bulletin 210, page 4. Click to view full size.

Southern Railway discontinued Aiken’s passenger service in 1950, citing declining demand and lack of profitability. This decision had been fought for two years prior by city leaders, merchants, the Aiken mayor, and also representatives from Branchville, Augusta and other towns along the line that would be affected by the closure.9 In 1954, Southern Railway demolished Aiken’s passenger station — again, over the protests of local leaders and merchants, who had requested the railroad donate or allow the city to buy the passenger station to be repurposed as a bus station or be used for other municipal functions. 

The loss of the passenger station and of passenger service — a fixture in Aiken since the first passengers arrived to town on the Charleston-Hamburg line in 1833 — changed forever a way of life in Aiken.

Romantic Notions

Aiken’s railroad history is marked by romantic notions, one being the idea that the train was built for the purpose of transporting wealthy travelers from the Low Country to Aiken to escape the heat and enjoy Aiken’s renowned healthful environment . This happened, of course, but it was freight service — specifically cotton trade — that brought the railroad to Aiken.7

Also, contrary to popular belief, no one ever rode the original “Best Friend of Charleston” to Aiken. That locomotive exploded in 1831 and never made the trip to Aiken. More on this in a moment.

Another romantic notion that reads like a page from the Scarlett O’Hara playbook is the story of the dashing civil engineer winning the hand of the beguiling plantation owner’s daughter in exchange for bringing the railroad to daddy’s doorstep. Left on the cutting room floor of that tale are the roles of the cotton trade, topography, and a man named Abram Blanding.

The establishment of the railroad was a long-contemplated effort, whose impetus grew during a series of economic blows to the state. First were slashed cotton prices in 1818-1819. This was followed by a general collapse of the US economy with the Panic of 1819. On the heels of this, a succession of tariff laws was passed in the 1820s that disadvantaged cotton growers and led to the nullification crisis. South Carolina was on the frontlines of this battle. The need to get upstate cotton to the port at Charleston was urgent.7

Wagon transport over South Carolina’s notoriously bad and often impassable roads had proven no competition for the efficiency of the river barge. Before the Charleston to Hamburg railroad was built, upcountry growers in traveling distance to Augusta hauled their cotton by wagon to Hamburg for transport down the river to Charleston’s rival port in Savannah.

The 1821 chartering of the town of Hamburg on the Savannah River  was one of the state’s first efforts to link trade from the South Carolina upcountry to Charleston. Another was the construction of numerous canals throughout the state in the 1820s to float the cotton to Charleston. Another was the chartering of the South Carolina Canal and Rail Road Company in 1827 to explore the possibilities of digging canals and/or building rail roads to bring the cotton from Hamburg to Charleston.7

Toward this end, in 1827, the superintendent of the state’s public works, Abram Blanding, was directed by the SC legislature in to survey the lands between Charleston to Hamburg for a possible canal and/or railroad. He and his crew of engineers quickly deemed a canal too difficult and expensive, however they found the rail road idea “perfectly practicable.”10

In 1828, several years before Pascalis and Dexter mapped out the route, Blanding’s report presented four possible means for the route. Only two involved completion of the rail line to Hamburg. The first route took a circuitous path that would add an additional six miles to the route, “the price which must be paid to avoid a stationary engine,” Blanding wrote.10

In the second route, he described the potential ascent from Hamburgh:

The Valley of Horse Creek may be followed up to Wise Creek, [an early name for Sand River, a tributary of Big Horse Creek] which on the map is represented as heading near the Horse Pen Pond, [near the present day Levels Baptist Church] and up the valley of the latter creek to one of its head branches, one of which is found to be 160 feet lower than the summit, and 215 higher than Hamburgh — the road from Hamburgh into this branch may be graduated on a rise of less than 20 feet to the mile, and the remainder of the ascent must then be gained by a stationary engine working on an inclined plane, of any angle or rise which may be deemed advisable.”10

ABOVE: Cut of 1827 map, “North and South Carolina” by H.S. Tanner. Locations cited in Blanding’s 1828 description are visible. Click to view full size.

Learning Curves

Peripheral but important to the history of the Charleston-Hamburg line were the multiple learning curves inherent to developing and constructing — through trial, error, sometimes failure, and with very limited funding — a new mode of travel.  An early failure was the Charleston-Hamburg railroad track, which had to be laid not once, but twice during the 1830s.

For another, there was much to be learned about building the iron horse. How to power this locomotive — with wind, horse, steam or slave? The decision went to steam. While the 136 miles of tracks were being laid, numerous steam engines were built, tried, and improved upon. Among them were the West Point, the South Carolina, the Charleston, the Barnwell, and the Edisto. Each engine provided the trial-and-error lessons (e.g. weak wheels, broken axles, boiler failures) necessary to improve the engine for final success.7

ABOVE: Three illustrations of 1830s era Charleston-Hamburg line steam engines from the article, “The Growth of the Steam Engine” by Professor R. H. Thurston The Popular Science Monthly, January 1878. In the pubic domain. 

The Best Friend of Charleston was the first engine to be built and subsequently improved upon. It was also the first to carry passengers and mail. The Best Friend’s run was limited to a short line service that ran a 6-mile length of track from Charleston to Summerville for six months during 1830-1831, before the infamous boiler explosion that destroyed the engine. Lesson learned through trial and error: engine workers needed to be trained for the job.

Another engine, the Phoenix, was built from the remains of the Best Friend. The Phoenix may or may not have been the first engine to make the maiden 1833 trip from Charleston to Aiken to Hamburg. There were three engines in good service that year — the Phoenix, the Barnwell, and the Edisto — that could have made the trip; however, the name of the first engine to make the historic 136-mile to Hamburg on October 3, 1833 seems lost to history, entirely eclipsed by the name of the little engine that exploded two years earlier and, therefore, couldn’t.

In addition to the engine, there were freight cars, passenger cars, tender cars and lumber cars, whose construction and designs also had to be worked out through trial and error. 

The railroad track provided an even steeper learning curve. How to build a track capable of carrying a heavy locomotive (whose design was still in its infancy) over 136 miles of variable terrain? Economic considerations led to a heavy dependence on wood, which was largely free and available along the route. Without an extravagance of free wood (according to one estimate, 12 acres of trees per mile for the crossties, alone), the railroad could not have been built. 

The first of the two Charleston-Hamburg rail beds, built in the early 1830s,  didn’t resemble the earthen embankments of today. The tracks were elevated on wooden pilings.Think of a 136-mile-long bridge or trestle that ran over marshes, swamps, creeks, and long stretches of gently rolling landscape. Depending on the elevation in any given area, the height of this trestle could be 6 to 12 inches above ground, or it could rise 25 or more feet in height. 11

The wooden piling system proved a fast failure. Despite being made of hard, resinous longleaf pine — one tree per piling — they began rotting at soil level within the first two years, causing a number of train derailments. Between 1834-1839, the old tracks were rebuilt using a system of primarily earthen embankments and trestles. 

The inclined plane — an elaborate device employed to raise and lower the locomotive up and down the steep grade into Horse Creek Valley — also proved impractical. While the inclined plane drew curiosity and awe, it was widely panned in its day because it was dangerous, time-consuming and difficult. The inclined plane was dispensed with during its second decade. In 1852, and at great expense, the line through town was rerouted through the railroad cut that was dug through the center of Aiken.

There have been several discoveries of the original tracks over the years. In 1944, excavators working for the Graniteville Company uncovered a buried section of the wooden structure in Warrenville. In 1985, more remnants, bared by erosion, were found along Cathedral Aisle in Hitchcock Woods by Dr. W.P. Bebbington. In 2016, more remnants of the original track and parts of the inclined plane were discovered up near the Aiken plateau, washed into Sand River near the Devils’ Backbone trail, part of the original railbed, in Hitchcock Woods.11

The Devil’s Backbone trail in Hitchcock Woods, part of the original South Carolina Canal and Railroad Company railway bed.

There were several incarnations of the inclined plane used in Aiken, the first of which was powered by slave labor. In fact, nearly every aspect of the railroad’s construction and operation — indeed, the very existence of the railroad and the cotton industry that gave birth to its Aiken destination — was only made possible through land grants, cheap land, free wood and slave labor.12

Slaves — both men and women — did the hard labor of building the railroads. Slaves felled the trees, hauled the timber and cut the wood to make the rails, crossties, pilings, bridges and trestles. They drove the pilings deep into the earth every 6-1/2 feet for 136 miles. They battled quicksand, hard clay, marshes, swamps, malaria and yellow fever to build the line to Hamburg. Once the railroad was completed, slaves performed the frequent inspections, upkeep and repairs over every mile of track. Slaves operated the locomotives, working as brakemen, firemen and enginemen.  When the tracks disintegrated, and the trains derailed, slaves cleared, repaired and rebuilt the mess. Slaves cooked the food to serve the passengers, hauled the baggage and trunks, and polished the boots that stepped off that train. Slaves planted, hoed, picked and baled that upcountry cotton — including Mr. Williams cotton — all bound for the port at Charleston and onward to England. Slaves turned the cranks to operate the inclined plane in Aiken, and when the inclined plane proved too impractical, slaves were put to work digging the deep railroad cut through Aiken. Slaves all but certainly built the first bridges across that red clay gash.

And when slavery ended, those former slaves — the strong and able-bodied among them — were arrested on spurious charges and forced back into labor with the convict leasing system,13 which farmed these prisoners out to railroad companies to dig more ditches, clear more forests, and to lay and repair thousands more miles of track.

“We punish a man who steals a loaf; if he steals an entire railroad, we say a financier; let us ask him to dinner.” Rev. Dr. Wayland

Throughout the 19th century, railroad companies, including the South Carolina Canal and Rail Road Company and its successors, were among the largest owners of slaves and lessees of enslaved humans and convict labor. These workers suffered the most grueling jobs under the cruelest of conditions. The death rate was high and rarely recorded.

“The convict labor is contracted for, and is of great value in the building of the railways and the clearing of forests. As a rule, the men are worked from dawn to dark, and then conveyed to some near point, to be locked up in cars or barracks constructed especially for them. They are constantly watched, working or sleeping ; and the records of the Penitentiary show many a name against which is written, ‘Killed while trying to escape.’” (From the 1875 publication, “The Southern states of North America: a record of journeys in Louisiana, Texas, the Indian territory, Missouri, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, South Carolina, North Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia and Maryland.” By King, Edward. Page 120. In the public domain.

After the railroad cut was completed in 1852, 130 slaves, 85 mules, 3 horses, 90 carts and harnesses, 25 wheelbarrows, shovels, and other equipment used for the excavation were advertised for sale to the highest bidder. The cut, which cost $125,963.94, is a significant physical feature of Aiken. It is of interest because of its association with the railroad that caused the town to be planned and with the institution of slavery. Consequently, although it is not a beautiful feature, it is one that should not be hidden or disguised.” — from page 30 of the Aiken Design Review Board Manual

The Railroad Cut 

The Southern Railway Company abandoned Aiken’s railroad cut in the early 1960s. The 6.2-mile line from Aiken to Warrenville remained unused for nearly 15 years, except as storage for a long string of boxcars unceremoniously parked on the line and left to the whims of vandals and rust. In 1967 — and in the wake of several calls for the Aiken Fire Department to put out fires in the boxcars — the City threatened to sue Norfolk Southern. The boxcars were rearranged into a satisfactory compromise. The abandonment of the Aiken to Warrenville line was, perhaps, the public face of an industry in steep decline.

Against this backdrop, Aiken was hit on the night of April 15, 1969 with 9.68” of rain over a period of 7 hours, provoking severe flooding throughout the city from Crosland Park, to the downtown, to the southside and the westside.The Rollingwood Road area in Kalmia Hills was catastrophically deluged, with water said to be rising one foot per minute at one point, as the railroad embankment (which was constructed at the same time as the railroad cut in 1852) essentially acted as a dam. The waters rapidly rose to roof level in a period of less than 30 minutes. Neighbors and firemen with boats quickly responded to provide emergency rescues, some from second-story windows.14

Questions over the railroad’s role in helping address the causes of the flooding in the Rollingwood Road area are reflected in City Council minutes, which convey the frustration among citizens and City officials over the railroad’s response to calls for the company to take a role in addressing stormwater and drainage issues involving railroad property.

ABOVE: Screenshots with excerpts of discussion from April 25, 1969 Aiken City Council meeting minutes. Click to view full size.

The discussions surrounding the April 1969 flood bled into existing concerns over the effects of the City’s stormwater on the ecology of Hitchcock Woods. This was a longstanding issue that began during the Winter Colony building boom that peaked in the 1920s, and exponentially worsened with the population explosion brought by the construction of the Savannah River Plant in the early 1950s.

In 1956, a study was undertaken by the City and an emergency plan enacted to address the stormwater, which had dug a “gully” fifty feet deep and 100 feet across Sand River. This followed a failed effort years earlier to direct the water down into the woods via a concrete flume. The gully that had since formed in the ruins of the concrete flume was now caving in beneath South Boundary Extension/Hitchcock Lane dirt road, posing danger to passing cars. A plan was devised to correct the situation in two ways — by filling in the gully and by piping the water further down into the woods before allowing it to “run free.”15

By 1974, the remnants of the numerous efforts to contain the water were “littering” the floor at the mouth of Sand River, which was now being termed a canyon.16

Decades of dumping increasingly huge volumes of stormwater into the Woods had inflicted flooding, erosion, landslides and tree-smothering sediment that were damaging the ecology of the woods with force violent enough to topple trees, carve towering canyons over Sand River, and dislodge concrete slabs from former (failed) retaining walls. The historic Horse Show Grounds in the woods had to be relocated twice due to siltation.

The cause was taken up by Friends of the Woods, Inc., an environmental conservation group formed to protect and advocate for the Woods. They claimed that the difficulty of resolving the City’s stormwater issues was aggravated by the railroad cut and embankment. The group urged the City to take control of the then-abandoned railroad cut and use it to pipe the City’s stormwater away from the Hitchcock Woods and down the cut into a series of retention ponds and/or discharge it into Horse Creek.17

Meanwhile, the abandoned railroad cut was gathering weeds, garbage and trash. Stormwater was left to erode away the railroad cut, threatening to undermine the bridges. The railroad company disavowed responsibility for the bridges and turned a deaf ear to the steady stream of complaints by city officials and citizens. At some point, the railroad company tore up and/or partially demolished some stretches of track in the railroad cut. Teenage drivers were known to take joyrides in the ravine during those days.

In June 1972, the City hinted that it might go forward with action to condemn the railroad cut and seize the land by eminent domain. The city hoped, in part, to use access to the cut to address the stormwater issues. The railroad threatened to fight such a move and, in December 1972, announced plans to reopen the railroad cut.

In response, a group protest was mounted by Friends of the [Hitchcock] Woods, affected Kalmia Hills property owners, and the Aiken City Council. The group requested that the Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC) provide an Environmental Impact Statement. Southern Railway was asked to provide financial and economic data to justify reopening the line. 

Suits were waged18; the results of the Environmental Impact Statement were contested, with the results deemed “grossly inadequate,” and “at great environmental cost.”19 Somewhere along the way, in January 1974, the Laurens Street bridge collapsed. More lawsuits were waged.

“Ironically, the bridge fell in as a result of work being done to expedite the flow of still greater quantities of water into the main branch of Sand River.”16 — W.P. Bebbington

In November 1975, the Laurens Street bridge was rebuilt and reopened. At the same time, an agreement was reached to relieve the railroad company of responsibility for the maintenance and future replacements of that bridge.

In March 1976, City Council passed a Resolution stating the City, Friends of Hitchcock Woods and affected Kalmia Hills residents “vigorously protested”20 the reopening of the railroad cut. According to a timeline prepared and presented to City Council that same month by Friends of the Woods member, Dr. W.P. Bebbington, the Southern Railroad Company had stopped using the cut in the early 1960s and then applied to the ICC in 1969 for permission to abandon the 6.2-mile line from Aiken to Warrenville. Permission was granted in 1970 and took effect in 1971. 

According to Southern president W. Grahm Claytor, the ICC application was “merely to formalize the termination of operations over this line, with the right at any time to request restoration of services when and if this appears justified.”21

In November 1976 (by which time dust from the bridge collapse and the lawsuits had mostly settled), the railroad began the work of cleaning up the ditch and reopening the line.

“Sand River. Aiken, South Carolina” By James A. Palmer. 1870s. In the public domain.
A view of Sand River in the 1870s, likely similar to the landscape that met Abram Blanding’s engineers when they surveyed this area in 1827-1828.

Over the next forty years, millions of dollars would be spent on studies and stormwater remediation efforts. In 2022, the Hitchcock Woods/Sand River stormwater issue was finally addressed through a $16 million project to install massive underground detention vaults near the head of Sand River to both contain and slow down the velocity of the water entering Hitchcock Woods.22

______________________

Next

Part Three of Three: The Railroad Bridges

For Reference

FEATURE PHOTO: Bridge Deck Detail. Fairfield Street bridge Photographer: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008. https://www.flickr.com/photos/12535240@N05/2539409343/in/album-72157623125207498

  1. Timeline compiled from “Southern Railway History” at the website Southern Railfan.
  2. Primary information on this history compiled from the pages Charleston & Hamburgh Railroad, and South Carolina Canal and Rail Road Company, and South Carolina Railroad/Railway, and Southern Railway at the website carolana.com
  3. Aiken Journal and Review, December 15, 1897.
  4. ”Aiken Representatives Fight Removal of Trains at Hearing in Columbia.” Aiken Standard and Review. November 24, 1948.
  5. Law, Donald M., Associate Editor. “Blanding was Genius Behind Aiken’s Railroad” and “Blanding Deserves the Credit for Aiken’s Existence.” Aiken Standard. March 15, 1987.
  6. Wayt, Howard. “Railroad Tracks Belonging to the South Carolina Canal and Railroad Company, c.1839–1852.” IA. The Journal of the Society for Industrial Archeology 42, no. 1 (2016): 19–36. https://www.jstor.org/stable/26606651.
  7. Witcher, T.R. The Birth of Steam Engines: The Charleston-Hamburg Railroad. Civil Engineering, September 2017.
  8. Washington, Clara Olds Keeler. Crime of Crimes; or The Convict System Unmasked. Also: pdf.: 1908. African American Pamphlet Collection, Libarary of Congress. In the public domain.
  9. Hindman, Emily. “Aiken Area Mops Up After Costly Flood.” Aiken Standard and Review. April 17, 1969.
  10. ”Sand River Erosion Under Study by City.’ Aiken Standard and Review .July 14, 1956.
  11. Bebbington, W.P. “Hitchcock problems increase as developments close in.” Aiken Standard. February 28, 1974.
  12. Bebbington, W.P. “A Program Toward Solution of Hitchcock WoodS Problems.” Aiken Standard. March 1, 1974.
  13. Wendel, Debby. “Council to consider bridge suit.” Aiken Standard. May 8, 1974.
  14. Wendel, Debby. “Environmental Study Labeled Inadequate.” Aiken Standard. July 5, 1974.
  15. Aiken City Council meeting minutes. March 8, 1976.
  16. Hindman, Emily. “Railroad Cut Bridges are Major Problem for City.” Aiken Standard. September 9, 1971.
  17. Staff Reports. “Innovative Stormwater Project Protects Hitchcock Woods.” Aiken Standard. December 26, 2022.

For More Reading