A year has come and gone since this story was first published. As far as I know, this lovely village still waits.
Mount Carmel Presbyterian Church sits at the edge of town, waiting. This is a notion that I cannot seem to shake. On previous visits over the past five years, and in previous posts, I have come away with the same feeling and said as much. A recent pass by the church on a February afternoon only reinforced the sense.
This is a small community. Services at this church were discontinued in the 1950’s. Remnants of the prosperity that graced Mount Carmel a century ago still stand, but their bones show the strain. Still, a visit here cannot help but renew an appreciation for the simplicity that sustained our parents and grandparents and the generations before them in the South.
Mount Carmel began life as just such a simple place, and while larger towns around it eventually surpassed it in growth, this community was born and has remained basically the same.
Many of the town's structures are unchanged.
In fact, 41 of them comprise the Mount Carmel Historic District on the National Register of Historic Places.
My first visit here was on a lush August afternoon, as most of these photos imply. I spent a generous hour taking in what remains. Even though they are in need of love and attention, the houses, churches, and closed-up businesses tell a definite architectural story.
Though simple in nature, their hints at Gothic Revival, Greek Revival and Italianate styles are unmistakable, and glorious, and touching.
The sense that remains with me to this day is that they are all waiting for something, or someone, to come home.
Beth….I love your posts chronicling your travels and discoveries. I have a soft spot for old buildings, the history of our beautiful south and our culture. Your ability to find architectural treasures and tell a story is such a gift. Thank you for sharing it this way.
I love your words Beth.