As I wheel into a spot on the map called Privateer, I picture some wounded Revolutionary War patriot staggering off after the Battle of Camden, resting here, looking around at the high hills and the pretty pine trees, and liking what he sees. And so he builds for himself a sturdy pine log cabin, and everybody for miles around says, “Oh, that’s where the old privateer lives.” And the name sticks, as names do, for centuries.
But on this Sunday in 2024, I find no “Welcome to Privateer” sign, only a bustling Bethel Baptist Church, with people exiting its tall doors after the service has ended. All sheepish in my “Sunday worst,” I approach one gentleman, who says he doesn’t know for sure—and so wouldn’t want to be quoted in any kind of article—but that there used to be a Privateer train stop over by the feed mill lot, and that voters today still vote in the Privateer Precinct. If anyone in the congregation would know, he says, it’d be Lamar Atkins, but Mr. Atkins wasn’t in church today.
I thank the man and head off down the road. Later, I fill out the Contact Us form on the Bethel Baptist Church website and ask them to kindly put me in touch with Lamar Atkins. I never have faith in Contact Us forms, but sure enough, days later the phone rings from an 803 area code.
Atkins, who has a master’s degree in history, begins by saying what every good local historian says: “I’ll give you the little bit that I know.” On his 1878 map, Privateer is listed as one of the 16 townships in Sumter County, and each township had a post office, because in the 1850’s, mail switched from service by horse-and-buggy to service by train.
Is it possible, then, that Privateer—like Lone Star, Prosperity, and Ruby—was named by the railroad companies?
Atkins says he can’t say for sure. For that, I may have to call Sammy Way.
I track down Sammy Way—longtime archivist, local historian, and columnist for The Sumter Item—who in turn tracks down an old article he wrote about a “brilliant, brilliant” local Sumter county historian named T.W. Stubbs, who once researched Privateer. Sammy Way reads the article aloud to me over the phone:
“There’s a part of the Pocotaglico River that runs in this area known as Nasty Branch. It was thought that pirates—privateers—came up these streams and harassed and stole from the people using pole boats to transport their goods and supplies in the 1780’s…Another theory…concerns a well-known mulatto pirate who lived on an island in the Wateree river. This island was also called Jack’s Island, after Jack Miller, who was best known for having a white wife and for being extremely mean and dangerous to everybody. Unconfirmed stories say he was finally caught and hanged for his crimes. This man was known to have lived after that time in this area called Privateer. His reputation properly helped perpetuate the pirate theory.”
So, here we arrive at last in our game of telephone: the anonymous churchgoing man gave me the name of Lamar Atkins, who gave me the name of Sammy Way, who gave me the name of T.W. Stubbs, who gave me the origins of the name Privateer, which may yet be a myth.
And that, as they say, is history.
But on this Sunday in 2024, I find no “Welcome to Privateer” sign, only a bustling Bethel Baptist Church, with people exiting its tall doors after the service has ended. All sheepish in my “Sunday worst,” I approach one gentleman, who says he doesn’t know for sure—and so wouldn’t want to be quoted in any kind of article—but that there used to be a Privateer train stop over by the feed mill lot, and that voters today still vote in the Privateer Precinct. If anyone in the congregation would know, he says, it’d be Lamar Atkins, but Mr. Atkins wasn’t in church today.
I thank the man and head off down the road. Later, I fill out the Contact Us form on the Bethel Baptist Church website and ask them to kindly put me in touch with Lamar Atkins. I never have faith in Contact Us forms, but sure enough, days later the phone rings from an 803 area code.
Atkins, who has a master’s degree in history, begins by saying what every good local historian says: “I’ll give you the little bit that I know.” On his 1878 map, Privateer is listed as one of the 16 townships in Sumter County, and each township had a post office, because in the 1850’s, mail switched from service by horse-and-buggy to service by train.
Is it possible, then, that Privateer—like Lone Star, Prosperity, and Ruby—was named by the railroad companies?
Atkins says he can’t say for sure. For that, I may have to call Sammy Way.
I track down Sammy Way—longtime archivist, local historian, and columnist for The Sumter Item—who in turn tracks down an old article he wrote about a “brilliant, brilliant” local Sumter county historian named T.W. Stubbs, who once researched Privateer. Sammy Way reads the article aloud to me over the phone:
“There’s a part of the Pocotaglico River that runs in this area known as Nasty Branch. It was thought that pirates—privateers—came up these streams and harassed and stole from the people using pole boats to transport their goods and supplies in the 1780’s…Another theory…concerns a well-known mulatto pirate who lived on an island in the Wateree river. This island was also called Jack’s Island, after Jack Miller, who was best known for having a white wife and for being extremely mean and dangerous to everybody. Unconfirmed stories say he was finally caught and hanged for his crimes. This man was known to have lived after that time in this area called Privateer. His reputation properly helped perpetuate the pirate theory.”
So, here we arrive at last in our game of telephone: the anonymous churchgoing man gave me the name of Lamar Atkins, who gave me the name of Sammy Way, who gave me the name of T.W. Stubbs, who gave me the origins of the name Privateer, which may yet be a myth.
And that, as they say, is history.
