Biographical

I was born December 13, 1953, in Augusta, Georgia, but spent my childhood and teenage years in Dillon, South Carolina. Dillon, a town of about 6,000 people, lies just west of the Little Pee Dee River, in the northeastern part of the state. When I lived there, the area was mostly dependent on agriculture – cotton and tobacco – although for a time there also was textile manufacturing. In the 1950s and 1960s, other than high school football, Dillon had little to offer in terms of services or entertainment. A visit to an optometrist or an evening at the movies required a trip to the larger city of Florence, about 30 miles away. Dillon’s main claim to fame when I was living there, and perhaps still today, was South of the Border, a sprawling Mexican-themed tourist attraction just south of the North Carolina state line. Many travelers on I-95 on their way to Florida would be entertained by the pun-filled billboards advertising South of the Border (“Try our honeymoon suite: It’s heir conditioned!”) that lined the highway. I was a serape-clad waiter at one of South of the Border’s four restaurants for several summers during my college years.