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Thursday, July 09, 2015
By Dan Armonaitis, HubCity Writers Project It’s been said that a picture’s worth a thousand words. But what about when just four words paint a vivid picture in the minds of countless Southern rock fans the world over? “From Spartanburg, South Carolina ...” was a phrase used to introduce the Marshall Tucker Band on a nightly basis at the height of the legendary group
Continue Reading >Wednesday, June 10, 2015
By Betsy Teter, HubCity Writers Project There are a few other Hub Cities in America, but certainly none more enthusiastic about the nickname than Spartanburg, where there has been a veritable explosion of local institutions adopting that moniker. And from where I sit in the offices of the Hub City Writers Project, well, we Spartanburg writers just might have had something
Continue Reading >Monday, May 04, 2015
By Jan Scalisi , produced in cooperation with the HubCity Writers Project. There's a touch of Thailand in Spartanburg—and the number of locally owned restaurants that feature the well-known Thai staples of noodle dishes, spring rolls, delicious soups, curry, seafood, and spicy vegetables over rice might surprise a visitor to a mid-sized Southern town. These days, there are
Continue Reading >Monday, May 04, 2015
By Susan A. Sistare, produced in cooperation with the HubCity Writers Project. Updated for accuracy in July 2019. On Saturday mornings, I am in Heaven. The memory of being dragged to the farmers' market to buy turnips (yuck) and Brussels sprouts (double yuck!) as a child makes me realize that I must have indeed become an adult. Now I love the Farmers' Market! Spartanbu
Continue Reading >Tuesday, March 03, 2015
Aren’t museums odd kinds of places? They’re often solemn and still, and yet they straddle a dizzying whirl of centuries in just a few feet of space. The best are as theatrical as they are informative. And it’s often the circumstantial details of a visit that transform a museum experience from mundane to magical. I’ve seen the attention of a room suddenly transfixed by t
Continue Reading >Monday, February 09, 2015
By Brad Steinecke, produced in cooperation with the HubCity Writers Project. On a frigid morning in January, an older woman walks into the Kennedy Room at the Spartanburg Headquarters Library. After a recent visit to the cemetery, she has resolved to find whatever information she can summon on her dear grandmother—a woman gone for more than fifty years, but still deeply love
Continue Reading >Monday, February 09, 2015
By Brad Wright, produced in cooperation with the HubCity Writers Project. When it came to cycling, John Bryan was simply a Southern pioneer. In the 1970s, when the idea of a bicycle as a legitimate means of transportation was an afterthought at best, laughable at worst, he used his on his daily commute. It should be mentioned, however, that this was a commute between Spartan
Continue Reading >Tuesday, December 16, 2014
By Rachel-Richardson, produced in cooperation with the HubCity Writers Project. I am not the most graceful of girls. My center of balance has yet to be found. If I were an animal, I’d be less of a swan and more of a hedgehog. In short—which I also am—the idea of putting on ice skates and swishing around a rink seemed like an express pass to a pair of crutches. I would fa
Continue Reading >Tuesday, November 25, 2014
By Susan A. Sistare, produced in cooperation with the HubCity Writers Project. If Spartanburg is your hometown, and you graduated from high school in an era when a Bluetooth was something you had to see your dentist for, you might be old enough to recall Spartanburg’s greatest annual festival: the Spring Fling! And ... that was pretty much it. And while the annual Spring
Continue Reading >Monday, November 17, 2014
By P. L. Thomas, produced in cooperation with the HubCity Writers Project. If you are visiting Spartanburg and happen to be driving at night in the city or country during those increasingly cooler months after the end of daylight savings time, you may see an unusual sight: small, white and blinking red lights approaching you slowly and seemingly unconnected along the road.
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