In October 1994, over Fall Break, Newby and Marcy came to visit me on S. Edisto, the first of their two descents into South Carolina. The preceding summer I had spent in old-world splendor, housesitting for the Aldens on Westview, just off Rugby Road, during Kaoru’s extended sabbatical in Charlottesville, which brought us the lovely Emi (or “Aimée,” as we spelled it then, which was a more apt and graceful rendering of her name), the clever Sachio, the gentle Natsumi, and the devilish Kaori for an all-too-brief two years. 
I took Newby and Marcy on a tour of campus, including the Horseshoe (photo right).
We made norimaki – thanks Emi, for the lessons and the necessary equipment – which we ate on the tiny table I still had from my last three years on North First Street. My apartment, the ground floor of a Shandon bungalow, was otherwise empty, save for a sofa (new - a genuine extravagance), a “recycled” coffee table from a trash pile on North First Street, two chairs, and a floor lamp I’d found in the basement and dragged from room to room as needed).
We went to Charleston on her birthday, where we strolled south of Broad, though Marcy preferred the gently fading houses north of Broad. Newby peeped shamelessly through street-front windows.
And though I wanted to go to a restaurant for a birthday meal, Newby insisted we stop and KFC and return to Battery Park for a picnic. She was right, of course.
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