A trusted transplant’s first foray at Middleton Hunting Club 

By Stuart Kaufman

I am not what anyone who is even moderately in control of his faculties would call a “sportsman.” I was born in Brooklyn, New York — and although I left Brooklyn for the wilds of Queens, N.Y. when I was a small child, no one who is born in Brooklyn ever loses that distinction. Needless to say, neither Brooklyn nor Queens is famous for its sporting opportunities, at least insofar as such pursuits are defined in, say, England or the Southern part of the United States. Opportunities for fly fishing or deer hunting on 44th Street in Brooklyn or on Radnor Street in Jamaica Estates, Queens were somewhat limited.

By Ford Walpole

The Cajun comedian Justin Wilson tells a story of a passionate duck hunter from Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana. The sportsman approached the sheriff and asked if the lawman could give the residents one more month to hunt ducks. “What you gonna name it?” came the sheriff’s reply, “Look. You hunt ‘em 12 months in the year now; if you get a new month, you gotta get a new name for it!”

By Ford Walpole

The Saturday before Labor Day, my son Ned and I forfeited watching the Clemson opener for a unique, youth-only dove hunt at Botany Bay Plantation Wildlife Management Area (WMA) on Edisto Island. It was a good decision, as the family shoot we were invited to the following week was cancelled due to Hurricane Irma.

By Ford Walpole 

When Scott Farfone, my friend and neighbor, was browsing gundogsonline.com, he “didn’t think for a second he would buy another dog.” He already had a two-year-old Boykin spaniel, five-year-old twin boys and a 10-year-old daughter. He and his wife, Dottie, operate Dottie’s Pharmacy, Specialty & Compounding and are starting up a hobby farm to boot.

Myth, legend or ghost, the Eastern panther haunts us yet 

By Roger Pinckney XI

Daytimes, he looked off into middle distance like he was reading a script off the sky. Nights, the script was in the fireplace flames. Day or night, he held us all captive with the motions of his hands, the rise and fall of his voice, the rhythm of his words, the pauses in between his words. I judged him good as Homer, but he never went blind until the very end.

Mercury newspapers can be found at the following locations:


Buxton Books

Caviar & Bananas

The Meeting Street Inn (Rack)

Clair's Service Station, Folly Rd. (Rack)

Harris Teeter, Houston-Northcutt Blvd. (Rack)

Mt. Pleasant Library, Mathis Ferry Rd. (Rack)

Pitt St. Pharmacy

The Square Onion, I'On (Rack)