Today, Sullivan's Island has white-sand beaches and is a favorite of vacationers and day-trippers, if not marsh-hens. But in the early 19th century, the Low Country, as the Charleston area is called, was rich in superstitions and pirate lore. Blackbeard terrorized the waters, and ghosts roamed the lands, or so it was said. It's easy to see why Poe was inspired by the place.
Destitute, he joined the Army at 18 and was sent to Fort Moultrie where he worked as a clerk and was promoted to sergeant major. The fort played an important role in both the Revolutionary and Civil wars because of its proximity to the port of Charleston. Today, it is a national monument.
Poe still haunts this sleepy island: There's a Poe Avenue, a Gold Bug Avenue, and a Raven Drive. Poe's Tavern is the island hot spot. I also visited the Edgar Allan Poe public library, housed in an old ammunition bunker carved into a hillside. At the entrance of the quirky space is a framed Audubon print titled "Raven." Coincidentally, I think, a crow flew overhead as I entered.
The librarians had decorated a bulletin board with a happy birthday banner, balloons, and all manner of Poe stuff. They had set out popcorn, cheese, and crackers. Books by and about Poe were prominently displayed. And a Poe's birthday trivia quiz was handed out to each patron. (In the poem "Annabel Lee," what killed the beautiful Annabel Lee? In "The Tell-Tale Heart," where is the beating heart found?)
Despite its name, the library isn't all about Poe; it's public, with shelves of books, magazines, and videos. Still, it attracts Poe fans from all over. On one Saturday, a man and a woman riding Harleys visited. They asked manager Jeri England about Poe, and then the man said he "felt the aura."
"I know he was in here," said the visitor.
"That's impossible," replied England. "This was built after he died."
"But I feel his spirit," insisted the man, as his companion nodded.
