All posts by Laura Lance

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

A Retrospective on Aiken’s Railroad Bridges: Part One

By Laura Lance

Part One of Three:
– Questions on Restoration
– Just How Old is That Old Bridge?
– The 1990s
– The Elements
– Some Recollections

__________________________

Questions on Restoration

Recent discussions on the Fairfield Street bridge have centered around the possibility of making it a pedestrian-only bridge. Matters of historic preservation and restoration have naturally been part of these conversations. At least one person has raised the possibility of a study to see if, rather than resorting to demolition, the existing bridge — whose components have all been found to be in poor to failed condition — can be restored, partially or in full, to serve as a pedestrian bridge. 

Most any structure can be restored, given enough time and money.  The question becomes, what is realistically possible for this bridge?

Specialists in historic wooden bridge restoration could bring insights to the table. Local officials with knowledge of the past could attest to the bureaucratic gridlock and the lack of funding that have kept these bridges in a chronic state of decay and disrepair for much of the past 175 years. As a native to Aiken, I can offer that the two railroad bridge collapses that occurred during my lifetime were attributed, in great part, to erosion, lack of maintenance and/or a heavy rainfall.

Certainly, the railroad bridges are historic; the railroad cut is historic; the role of the railroad in the founding of Aiken is historic. But what do we really know of this history? What physical aspects of this history are we seeking to preserve? What is physically left to restore?

ABOVE: View of the tracks in railroad cut as seen from bridge.
Photograph: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008.

Some Histories

Just How Old is That Old Bridge?

Aiken’s old wooden railroad bridges didn’t arrive to the late 20th century/early 21st century era with their original 19th century construction. While records on these bridges are spotty, sometimes contradictory, sometimes incorrect, and often difficult to confirm, enough records exist to show that all of these bridges have been heavily altered, rebuilt and/or replaced to varying degrees over the years. None of these bridges retains its original construction.

This is because the lifespan of the wood in the old bridges was measured in decades, not centuries. The most recent replacements of the York Street bridges illustrate this ongoing reality. The bridges were demolished and replaced in 1994. Less than 25 years later, in 2017, the bridges were again demolished and replaced, the latter replacement a single-span steel hybrid bridge with wood decking, wood railings, and a predicted lifespan of some 75 years.

The proposed Fairfield Street bridge replacements also reflect this reality. In the May 6, 2025 Design Review Board (DRB) meeting, three options were presented for the Fairfield Street bridge replacement (see pages 196-197 of the DRB Agenda package). The life cycle costs on Options 2 and 3 (see page 158 of this same agenda package) include bridge replacement every 30 years.

  • Option 1; a single-span steel hybrid bridge similar to the 2017 York Street Bridge replacement.
  • Option 2 — a 3-span Glu-lam timber bridge. .
  • Option 3 – a 3-span timber bridge similar to the existing bridge.

A speaker in this same meeting said that the Fairfield Street bridge replacement “may likely serve us for the next 100 to 150 years, like the current bridge had.” This may have left some individuals with the impression that the wooden structure we see today is original to its 1899 construction, which is not accurate. 

So how old is that bridge? How old is the decking? The foundation? How old are the timbers in the railings, girders, beams, piles and piers?

Norfolk Southern spokespersons have been quoted as saying that all of Aiken’s wooden bridges were replaced in 1952, which would be the same year a second York Street bridge, (the northbound lane), was added. This would be a logical timeframe, as it would coincide with the influx of federal dollars and some 100,000 workers and new residents to Aiken in 1952 during the construction of the Savannah River Plant. If true, the oldest timbers of the Fairfield Street bridge may date to 1952, with the most recent timbers dating to repairs in 1999 and 2009. 

The 1990s

Pick a decade, any decade. The stories are remarkably similar, repeating from one to the next. The 1990s is as good a time as any to recap the typical issues these bridges have brought to the table over the course of any decade.

September 1990: City Council discussed the continuing deterioration and need to replace the bridges at Fairfield, York and Newberry Streets. Also on tap were discussions on upkeep and funding, with City Attorney James Holley citing an 1890s agreement that stipulated the railroad company would maintain the bridges, but which hadn’t specified the standards for that maintenance.

April 1991: City Council discussed the possibility of using funds available through the Federal Bridge Replacement Act to replace the Newberry and York Street bridges. (The Fairfield Street bridge did not qualify for this funding.) According to SC Department of Transportation (SCDOT) estimates, the replacements for Newberry and York Street bridges would cost, respectively $352,000 and $604,000. The City and Southern Railway each agreed to pay 10% of these costs. 

October 1991: City Council approved an agreement with the SCDOT for replacement of the Newberry and York Street bridges. The work was to be tackled within the next 2 to 5 years. At that time, the SCDOT also recommended closing the Fairfield and Union Street bridges.

March 1993: Norfolk Southern started work demolishing and rebuilding the northbound lane of the York Street bridge. The southbound lane followed, with work completed in December 1993. 

August 1993: The SCDOT backed out of the October 1991 agreement due to a later SC Highway Commission decision to replace only a fraction of the state bridges earlier committed to. 

September 1993: City Manager Steve Thompson said during a City Council meeting that railroad bridges at Newberry, Fairfield and Union needed replacement. He said that the cost estimates, which he placed at about $450k per bridge, were prohibitive for the City.

October 1994: An Aiken Standard editorial made mention that the Fairfield and Union Street bridges had recently been rebuilt. (I was unable to find confirmation that this happened, although, but did find a February 2016 SCDOT bridge inspection report stating that existing Fairfield Street bridge was “built” in 1992).

October 1995: The Newberry Street bridge was closed after SCDOT inspectors found “holes in the surface” and “the soil around the foundation caving in.”1

February 1997: The SCDOT bridge design engineer was quoted in Aiken City Council minutes as saying the Union, Fairfield, York and Chesterfield Street bridges were in “relatively good shape.” 

July 1997: Work began on the Newberry Street bridge replacement at a cost of approx. $1.15 million (not quite double the 1991 estimate), with the majority of funding coming from the Federal Highway Department.

February 1999: The Fairfield St. Bridge was briefly closed to repair rotten timber, pilings. and bridge decking.

Two notable points emerge from reading the accounts of the 1990s. For one, the railroad company wanted to turn over responsibility for all future bridge upkeep, maintenance, repairs and replacements to the City. For another, the SCDOT was recommending the permanent closure of both the Fairfield and Union Street bridges. 

The Elements 

Aiken’s climate is ideal for wood decay, between the annual rainfall and warm temperatures, both of which are friendly to the fungi and bacteria that break down wood. Aiken’s rainfall has also been responsible for the erosion, flooding, stormwater issues, landslides and cave-ins that have undermined tracks, bridge foundations, and properties adjacent to the railroad cut over the past 175 years. 

Railroad cut erosion from 2008. Photographs: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008.

An 1893 newspaper account described a badly washed embankment at the Laurens Street bridge. An 1899 account described more of same due to a heavy rainfall. A 1912 landslide caused a train to wreck, derail, and damage the supports to the Newberry Street bridge.  In 1917, a particularly large landslide behind the Wilcox disturbed guests as an estimated 100 tons of red clay fell, covering the railroad track. Several landslides occurred in the railroad cut in 1925.

In 1929, a torrential rainfall — said to be the heaviest rain in the memory of some of Aiken’s oldest residents — flooded the railroad cut, causing a landslide in the railroad cut near Chesterfield Street and completely submerging the tracks in some areas. In 1959, a heavy rain flooded the railroad cut at the Union Street bridge — a chronic issue dating back to the 19th century.

Issues of bridge condition and erosion inside the railroad cut continued throughout the 1960s and 1970s and onward. According to a 1971 Aiken Standard article titled, “Railroad Cut Bridges are Major Problem for City,”2 local officials had “repeatedly called he railroad’s attention to its responsibility in maintaining the bridges” and implored them to address “grave concerns at the generally deteriorating condition of the Laurens Street bridge.” The City manager wrote directly to the railroad president.

In 1971, for the second time in a year, the Laurens Street bridge was closed and declared “unsafe.”3 A combination of causes was cited — erosion, lack of maintenance, and a heavy rain that undermined the track, severed a water main in the cut, and caused the bridge’s concrete foundation to crack.

In 1974, as contractors for the City worked to install a stormwater drainage pipe, the bridge collapsed. Afterward, the city manager was quoted in an Aiken Standard article titled “Council to Consider Bridge Suit,” as saying the bridge “was not in sound condition before it fell,” and saying about the railroad company, “We feel that they do have liability for the collapse.”4

In 1975, the Laurens Street bridge was replaced with a pre-stressed concrete and steel bridge. History repeated 37 years later with a second bridge collapse in 2012.5

In the wake of the second collapse, matters of the railroad cut were discussed during an April 17, 2012 City Council meeting, excerpts of which can be read in the four screenshots below. 

ABOVE: Four screenshots from April 17, 2012 City Council meeting minutes. Click to view full-size.

Over the past decade, three major stabilization projects have been completed in the railroad cut, with most of the work occurring in the embankments behind the Wilcox, between the Newberry and Chesterfield Street bridges:

— 2017 Stabilization of the York Street bridge abutments using soil nails and colored shotcrete during the replacement of the two bridges. 

— 2017 Stabilization of the railroad cut embankment at the Chesterfield Street bridge using soil nails and colored shotcrete as part of a stormwater drainage project.

— 2018 Stabilization of the embankment behind the Wilcox Inn to address the growing threat to the foundation of the historic inn caused by a chronic erosion and acute damages caused by fallen trees/loss of root structure in the embankment during the ice storm of 2014. This was a two-phase project, named the Historic Railroad Cut Stabilization Project, which involved geotechnical evaluation of the embankment, followed by extensive work to stabilize the embankment including soil nails and the application of colored shotcrete. The $2.18 million project was funded with FEMA grants and matching local funds. 

ABOVE: Images from the three railroad cut stabilization projects completed in 2017 and June 2018.. Note the shotcrete (concrete) covered embankment in the staircase photo, dyed to match the native clay. Photographs: Michael Aiken

ABOVE: June 2025 images of the railroad cut stormwater drainage and stabilization work behind the Wilcox Inn and beside the Chesterfield Street bridge completed in 2017-2018. Note that the surface treatment is shotcrete, a type of concrete product, that was dyed to match the color of the native red clay. Photographs: Michael Aiken.

No matter if crossed by foot, wagon, horse or car, Aiken’s wooden bridges have always been high-maintenance, needing frequent, inspections, upkeep, repairs, and some form of rehabilitation every 7-8 years; some would argue 10-15 years. The bridges have needed major rebuilding or replacement every 20-30 years. The railroad cut has likewise needed regular inspection, and the recently-stabilized embankments and bridge abutments will likewise need periodic inspections.

Whose job will this be going forward? Who, if anyone, is responsible for addressing standing water and erosion in the railroad cut? Who has the power to enforce that responsibility? What authority, if any, does the City have to protect the foundation of a bridge planted on someone else’s property?

The railroad cut viewed looking east from the newly-built York Street in 2017. The Fairfield Street bridge, closed in 2016, is visible in the near distance. Photograph: Michael Aiken.

Some Recollections

I grew up with these bridges. I always liked their ramshackle construction and the familiar clickity-clack sounds of the decking boards when cars crossed over. In my earlier years, I regularly crossed all the bridges on foot to go downtown to the movies, the pool hall, the sub shop, the stores, school and the library (then located at the corner of Hood and Laurens). The Fairfield Bridge, with its leafy canopy of trees, was always my favorite. I crossed it with my best friend on summer days to buy comic books and candy at the Johnson Drug store. I have vivid memories of crossing it on spring mornings on my way to Schofield and pausing halfway across the bridge, just to take in the pretty view down the east side of the track. Today, even in its decline, the Fairfield Street bridge is the only wooden bridge that still looks like old Aiken. The others are all changed now; ruined.

Although the new design for the York Street bridge is an improvement over the generic, concrete ugliness of the Laurens Street bridge replacement, I still miss the dark, creosote-soaked timbers of the old bridges. I miss the decking boards laid perpendicular to the sides. That’s what makes the memorable clickety-clack sound. Whatever their construction, those old wooden railroad bridges felt solid to me.

ABOVE: Bridge deck detail on Fairfield Street bridge in 2008. Photograph: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008.

The Union Street bridge was always the outlier. Most people either love or hate the Union Street bridge. It was always my least favorite, even before the time I became airborne during my first trip over it as a teenage driver in the 1970s. For as long as I can remember, the Union Street bridge, or “high bridge” as some called it, felt and looked rickety. I recall the flimsy, higgledy-piggledy pipe-and-wire railing persisting well into my adulthood. I never had much good to say about that bridge, except to say thank goodness I made it to the other side.

In 2003, as the finishing touches were being put on the latest replacement of the Union Street bridge decking, the SCDOT received a citizens’ petition to close the bridge to vehicular traffic due to the limited sight distance available to drivers going over the bridge. City Council discussed this in a June 9, 2003 work session. Citizens in attendance advocated for keeping the bridge open. The consensus among Council members, according to the meeting minutes, was to keep the bridge open and review the area for possible speed bumps, speed signs, and signage to warn pedestrians of traffic.

If I’d been active in City issues at that time, I could have told them about the long-ago morning when my brother saw an elderly man on foot crossing the Park Avenue intersection at the bottom of the Union Street bridge. The man stumbled and fell in the roadway, then just laid there. Was the man sick? drunk? dead? My brother, who was just a kid, stood there frozen, not knowing what to do. A car could come over at any second and roll over the man. If my brother went to the man’s aid, might they both be hit?

That was the thing about that bridge. It was like driving off a cliff; a Thelma and Louise moment every time you crossed. Even driving as slow as a snail, there was no telling what was on the other side until you got there. Fortunately the odds were in the man’s favor. After a few long moments, he got up and continued on his way.

Next

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

For Reference

FEATURE PHOTO: Bridges over Aiken Railroad Cut. Front to back, York St bridges, Fairfield St bridge, and Union St bridge.Photographer: carlfbagge. Flickr album: Aiken, 2008. https://www.flickr.com/photos/12535240@N05/2238403088/in/album-72157623125207498

  1. Kirkland, Chasiti, “Bridge May Be Closed for Two Years.” Aiken Standard, October 25, 1995. 
  2. Hindman, Emily. “Railroad Cut Bridges Are Major Problem for City.” Aiken Standard, September 9, 1971. 
  3. “Laurens Street Bridge Closed; Declared Unsafe.” Aiken Standard, June 22, 1971. 
  4. Wendel, Debbie. “Council to Consider Bridge Suit.” Aiken Standard, May 8, 1974. 
  5. Banton, Amy. “Laurens Street Bridge May Open Today.” Aiken Standard, October 4, 2012. 

The Citizens’ Voice at City Council Meetings (Part Two)

Second in a two-part series by Laura Lance
August 6, 2024

Citizens Speak

In 1842, a citizen spoke to the Aiken Town Council, urging “immediate repairs” for the “dangerous condition” of the Laurens Street railroad bridge. History repeated some 180 years later, in 2022, when citizen Beatrice McGhee, speaking in the non-agenda portion of the meeting, spoke before City Council, urging the repairs or replacement necessary to get the long-neglected Fairfield Street bridge reopened. Soon after, the City Manager proposed using $3 million of the plutonium money for that purpose.

Since 2022, when Council reimplemented the non-agenda comment period in City Council meetings1, there have been numerous other important, and often impactful, non-agenda comments brought to Council. Here are but a few, in no particular order:

  • Laverne Justice brought Council’s attention to the $2 fee being charged to children to go inside Smith Hazel Recreation Center to play a pick-up game of basketball. The fee was later removed. 2
  • Julie Briggs Worley suggested that City Council consider hiring a City Attorney to be on staff, as many other cities do; a staff attorney who would avoid conflicts of interest and ensure all city and state laws are followed.
  • Robert Leishear, PhD,  a registered professional engineer and former research scientist at Savannah River National Laboratory, brought to Council an explanation of the root causes of the water main breaks. Mr. Leishear introduced innovative methods for addressing these causes toward the goal of reducing water main breaks and boil-water advisories. This history and the City’s lack of response are covered the post-election story, “Election Night: Teddy Milner is Next Mayor… and the Future of Brown Aiken Brown Water.
  • Jacob Ellis pointed out the lack of a public restroom in The Alley, to which he was advised that the City is studying options to address the matter.
  • Tarsha Howell, actively involved in clean-up efforts on Aiken’s northside, brought to Council attention the numerous potholes on Union Street. The next day, SC-DOT was seen repairing the potholes.
  • Becky Phillips, an Aiken citizen who is without a home, brought to Council a firsthand account of what it was like, the night before, to sleep outdoors in 15-degree weather; her plea, one of many made by Ms. Phillips, was for Council to address the issue of homelessness in Aiken.
  • Jenn Stoker and a number of other citizens raised concerns about the City’s August 2022 decision to close 6 parks in the City. The City later gave verbal agreement to keeping these parks open, although the intention to close still exists on paper.3
  • Luis Rinaldini brought Council’s attention to a stream of “mismanaged” property deals by the City and cited the City’s then-recent sale, without pubic bid and auction, of four properties which sold for $150k to an employee of the City Attorney’s office, and which afterward went on the market for $700k.4
  • Bill McGhee brought the issue of the City’s DEMO 200 program that has been responsible for the destruction of historic homes on Aiken’s northside; the program is now on hold and being re-evaluated by the City. 
  • Jacob Ellis urged City Council to address the hazardous sidewalk conditions along the Richland Avenue corridor downtown, which are cracking and buckling up, and to urge SCDOT to address similar, hazardous conditions with the crosswalks.
  • Don Moniak recently obtained answers pertaining to the status of two projects — Project Unicorn and the proposed Greenway trail from Generations Park to the City’s 2,500-acre watershed protection “Brunswick Tract” north of I-20. The latter is currently on hold due to difficulties in obtaining easements from some private property owners. The former appears to be on hold or canceled. 
  • Debbie Brown challenged City Council’s assertion that the opposition to Project Pascalis was “insignificant” and produced numbers from both the citizen’s “Do it Right” petition and from the City’s own comment cards to show that two-thirds of citizen comments expressed serious concerns or opposition to Project Pascalis and the demolition of the Hotel Aiken and the McGhee block. 
  • Williamsburg St/Farmers Market: Valerie Wrobel’s persistent questioning about the Farmer’s Market tree-cutting fiasco5 flushed out a new official response that it was not the contractor’s fault, but the conveyance of the wrong set of plans to the contractor. (The city later backtracked and claimed it was the overall plan that was the problem). 
  • LaShaun Ryans raised the issue of the hazardous design of the Hampton Avenue-Laurens Street intersection; the intersection is now on the list for a rework. 
  • Teresa Callahan spoke to City Council about the plight of northside neighborhoods, describing the conditions of litter, drug activity, senior citizens afraid to leave their homes, and people with no place to live. She felt the City was neglecting them and asked for help. The City has since worked with Ms. Callahan and the group “Eyes on Aiken” that she and LaShaun Ryans helped organize to empower positive change in northside neighborhoods.
The Invisible Author

Given what seems to be a history of constructive, impactful nonagenda public comments, who in our City government thought to put pen to paper to propose the following changes to the non-agenda comment period in the City Code?

  1. Reduce by half the amount of time allotted for non-agenda citizen comments.
  2. Relegate non-agenda comments period to the end of the meeting.
  3. Limit the content of citizen input to the subjective “matters within the scope of the city’s business.”
  4. Require citizens to pre-register to speak.

After listening to the entirety of the hearing in the video, below, the question begs answering: Who put pen to paper?

And why?

BELOW: The entirety of the June 24, 2024 public hearing on Item #5 under New Business, “First Reading of an Ordinance to Amend Section 2-64 of the Aiken City Code,” can be heard in the video starting at approx. minute 2:43:37.

Council Speaks

During Council’s June 24, 2024 public hearing on Item #5 under New Business, “First Reading of an Ordinance to Amend Section 2-64 of the Aiken City Code,” two schools of thought emerged among the council members. One school recognized the value of the non-agenda comment period and of listening to what citizens have to say. The other seemed to, at best, tolerate non-agenda comments and, at worst, spoke of a need to “police” the process. One wanted to keep the comment period at the beginning of the meeting. The other wanted to remove the first comment period. One wanted to require pre-registration. The other did not.

The content of the statements made by Councilwoman Andrea Gregory, who was the sixth council member to speak, provided a clear contrast to some of the earlier speakers:

“When public comment started, at the beginning, I’ll be honest with you, at first I was like, oh my gosh, this is pretty brutal. It was during Pascalis. I mean, we got beat up to a pulp. Was it my favorite? No. Was it an avenue to give us perspective? Absolutely. Did I learn a lot of things? Yes. I was able to really gauge and understand my community a little bit better. And I think that’s evolved to such an asset in our community, to have that opportunity for the public to come up and, you know, give us a piece of their mind. It’s so important, I think, for all of us. “

At the same time, Gregory agreed with the other five council members that one of the comment periods should be dropped. She advocated for keeping the comment period near the start of the meeting. She was opposed to the signup sheet requiring citizens to pre-register to speak:

“If you came [to the meeting], you made the effort. You should be entitled to speak.” 

Gregory’s comments more or less echoed those of Councilwomen Price and Diggs and stood in contrast to statements by Councilman Ed Woltz, who said, “Anybody that doesn’t want a sign-up sheet must have a reason,” while advocating for a signup sheet to prioritize those who live within the City limits and to ensure that the same person wasn’t coming in meeting after meeting and signing up. “We could police that and say ‘Hey, you can’t just come in every meeting just to sign up,

Gregory’s statements also stood in contrast to Councilwoman Kay Brohl’s earlier statement that “The state law does not require there to be a public comment period in Council meetings.” According to Councilwoman Gregory:

“I now view public comment as a right. It’s our right as constituents. If I were out there, I would want to have that opportunity. We are doing the business of the city, but we are your messengers.”

Regarding the assertions by Girardeau and Brohl that those who do business with the City shouldn’t have to wait through the non-agenda comment period to bring their proposals, Councilwoman Gregory said:

“They’re asking for something; something from our community, not from us. They’re asking of the community. So if they’re here for three or four hours, so be it, because we are doing the business of the City; but we are strictly your messengers, and so I don’t mind them waiting now.” 

Lessie Price, the fifth council member to speak, spoke at length. Below are a few excerpts from her statements:

The non-agenda item has done more for the African-American community than anything else.

Starting with the open agenda, as people came to listen to what was being said, they began to feel more of a part of this community, a part of the city. They built relationships with many of you, through the way you approached them, included them in wanting to hear the ideas. 

The fact that we have opened up the courage of people to come into these chambers and share what their communities are facing on a daily basis, on a monthly basis. That has been very good to build camaraderie and togetherness for this community. And I will tell you that many comments to me and Gail [Councilwoman Diggs] as well, how welcome they feel by many of you, because of the engagement, and the relationships they’ve built as a result of being in these Chambers. We don’t need to create anything rigid, because creating rigid criteria really makes folks skeptical of what they will say, but we need to hear from these individuals.

That is what builds strong communities —- when you can talk to each other and most of all not just talk, but listen.

On Listening

While the word “efficiency” was emphasized by Council members Girardeau and Brohl, the term was never described outright. Councilman Girardeau explained what efficiency isn’t, saying, “It’s not about “trying to go quicker,” nor about “excluding anyone from talking.” 

Councilwoman Brohl said, “We want to hear you, but we want to do it in the right order, in the right manner, and with efficiency” and “There’s nothing in this that is bad, or we don’t want to hear from you.”

Girardeau and Brohl variously ascribed subjective values such as “pro or con” and “positive or negative” and “confrontational” to citizen comments — a perspective that is sometimes echoed in local social media threads, where terms such as do-nothings, naysayers, and CAVE (citizens againt virtually everything) are tossed like spitballs at anyone who gives critical input on local projects.

Is it a positive or a negative to expect officials to comply with points of law? Is it pro or con to ask the City to repair what is broken? Is it confrontational to oppose over-development and the destruction of trees, parks, and historic places? Is citizen participation merely something to be endured, or is it an integral part of a functioning City government?

Crunching Numbers

A running thread among all of the Council members in the June 24 public hearing was the concern over the time spent on nonagenda public comments. All members were in favor of “doing away” with one of the two non-agenda comment periods, as they felt these were causing the meetings to run long. Examination of the actual time spent on non-agenda comments over the past year, however, shows that Council members’ concerns were unfounded. 

While citizens have been allotted two non-agenda speaking periods — one 30-minute period at the beginning of the meeting, and another 30-minutes near the end of the meeting, for a total of 60 minutes of non-agenda comments per meeting — this time has not once been used in full over the past year. 

A review of the twenty-one City Council meeting videos from June 2023 through June 2024 found that the average total time spent on non-agenda comments was only 21 minutes per meeting out of the 60 minutes allotted. The most time spent was 51 minutes on September 25, 2023. The least was 3 minutes on June 10, 2024. 

Over the past year, the average total time spent on non-agenda comments was only 21 minutes per meeting out of the 60 minutes allotted.

The prescribed remedy to this perceived problem, (as written by the unnamed hand that penned Item #5 in the June 24 agenda) was to abolish the first 30-minute non-agenda period, and keep the second non-agenda period. 

There is a problem with this, however, which was well-described by citizen Linda Keener, who spoke at the hearing; a problem that the author of the “Ordinance to Amend Section 2-64 of the Aiken City Code,” knows if he or she crunched the numbers. The problem is that, by the arrival of the second non-agenda period at the end of the meeting, the room is nearly empty. Most everyone has usually gone home. And who could blame them? Most City Council meetings last over two hours, ending after 9:00 p.m. with some lasting until 10:30 p.m. and later.

This is likely the reason why, in over 50% of the meetings over the past year, zero citizens spoke during the second non-agenda comment period. The average time spent on this second period of non-agenda comments  over the past year was only 3.5 minutes per meeting — about one speaker per meeting.

Is this what efficiency looks like?

Local citizens are urged to pay close attention to upcoming City Council agendas for notice of public hearings to amend Section 2.-64 of the Aiken City Code. Is the average of 21 minutes per meeting too much time to allow citizens to speak? Or is there an effort afoot to fix something that ain’t broke? And who is that invisible author? Let City Council know your thoughts.

_____________

See also:

The Citizens’ Voice at City Council Meetings (Part One)

Articles pertaining to issues cited in both articles:

  1. History of the “Open Mic” Public Comment on Nonagenda Items comment period, aka as “Open Mic,” September 2022 to June 2023. 
  1. Youth Recreation Center Fees
  1. Divesting of Parks
  1. Property Deals
  1. Farmer’s Market