My name is Anne Welling Knox and I am a Southern girl. I was born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina in the historic district (however, it wasn’t called that then and the houses didn’t sell for anywhere near a million dollars like they do now.) I grew up walking the streets of the Holy City. Places like Battery Park, King Street, Colonial Lake, the Charleston Museum, the YWCA, Trinity Methodist Church and the old Library on Rutledge Avenue were some of my particular favorite haunts. When I couldn’t walk to a place like Ms Nephew’s piano lessons, I rode the city bus. My family didn’t own a car in those WWII days. We finally got one when I was in High School. I took the “ankle express” (as my friend Claudia’s Daddy used to call it) to Crafts School, then to Nathans Jr. High and to my beloved Memminger High School which was about a block from my house. (I left home when the first bell rang, and would come zooming into my homeroom exactly one second before the last bell rang).
Miss Katherine Walsh would always say, “Anne, you live the closest to school and are always the last one here.”
My reply was, “But, Miss Katherine, you know I am never late.” She was the sweetiest teacher ever, but she never convinced me to arrive earlier either.
I love the low country and it is evident in my book, THE BIRD’S NEST. I draw my center from the beautiful magnolias blooming on the trees, spanish moss, the smell of yellow jasmine, sand in my toes, finding shells on my beloved Folly Beach, and hearing the palmetto trees sing with the Atlantic Ocean. There is something pure magical about it. Daddy used to say we had plough mud and ocean water in our veins. I think there is probably a little truth to that. You only have to hear the bells of St Michael’s ring with its majestical chimes and to be echoed by all the other churches in Charleston to know that it is a special place enriched with God’s love.
I adore my Memminger girls who have been my friends from Crafts School. I also love to paint with oils and water colors and have a passion for writing and wearing hats.
I have the most amazing family in the world and I must tell you that my grandchildren are absolutely perfect. If they have any flaws it would be that they don’t have a Southern accent or particularly like sweet tea and grits is definitely not on their menu.
I married my college sweetheart shortly after he graduated from The Citadel. He was the love of my life, my soul mate, my destiny. (sounds a little bit like a soap opera.) We grew up together, as he was 22 when we married and I was 20. It was love at first sight. But, oh what a journey we had.
I am a retired emergency room nurse and my husband was a civil engineer. His job took us to many Southern cities in Tennessee and Kentucky and we landed in Muncy, Pa. (my words at the time were, “I can not believe you are taking me up North to live.”)
Muncy is a small town, much like Williamsburg, filled with good people and has proven to be a great place to raise our three kids. Now they are gown up with families of their own. Only one of them continues to live here. I love Muncy but will never ever be a Yankee. (Lord a mercy, may I nevah lose my Southern drawl, stop eating grits, wearing hats or drinking sweet tea, the nectar of the South of the Mason Dixon Line Gods.) I’m just a South Carolina girl living in a Pennsylvania world. I never miss an opportunity to return to my Charleston.
I wrote most of my stories for my family so that they could hand them down to the next generation. It is a plethora of things that happened in our family life. Although some are fiction, I have taken many of the situations and embellished them to suit my fancy. It might be fun for family and friends to guess who the characters are. (be honored if you find a piece of yourself in them. I only write about the people I love.) But, who knows, maybe for fun, I may have combined two people into one. The stories are how I remembered them but at my age, things tend to get all mixed up or made up to suit my feelings of the day. My memories are constantly twirling around and around in my brain trying to land on a sheet of paper but often they may hit the wall.
Each day, I give thanks to my gracious God for my blessings. My husband, Jack, and I always loved God, Family, Country, and in his case, football, but not always in that order. We were blessed with a wonderful family, (which includes my church family), a great place to live, amazing friends and God’s love.
Jack passed away nine years ago and I miss him every single day. He was a great man (in size and in substance, some would call him bigger than life) and a loving husband and father. (Miss you Babe.)
To our children, Cindy, Ed and John, their fabulous spouses, Jim Craddock, Dennie and Karen, my perfect grandchildren, Sia, Scott, Avery Griffith and soon to arrive Henry Weston Griffith, Aaron & Ian Walker, Kaiden Tramontana, Dani, Sami, Zach and Matthew Knox, I love you with all my heart. I would be remiss not to mention my constant companion, my English Bulldog named Winston. Winston, you made me get out of bed when I didn’t want to after my husband died. You bring me laughter each day and you are loyal to the bone. To my children and grandchildren, I know you are all going to do wonderful things with your lives. You are special. You are my heart. You are our legacy.