Heavy Meddle

West Ashley resident Charlie Smith may have just succeeded in holding back the hands of time this week when he interrupted a permitted demolition of a piece of West Ashley’s history.
Last Thursday, Smith, a local Realtor and preservationist, stopped the demolition of an old-time vegetable distribution shed on Wappoo Road owned by Limehouse Produce.
Some damage had been done by the time he arrived:  A front piece of the massive structure, which stretches the length of five good-sized houses, had already been chewed by an articulated loader.
Owner Jack Limehouse contracted with a local demolition company to tear down what had been his family’s business site for more than three decades. Market forces and economic realities forced Limehouse to abandon the site seven years ago for a facility off Ashley Phosphate in North Charleston, he said.
Before the Limehouses owned it, the shed had been the open-air center for vegetable distribution in West Ashley, going back an additional four decades.
It was that history that Smith wanted to save.
Smith, who is active on the county Planning Commission and who also ran for office twice against former State House Rep. John Graham Altman, fought successfully years ago to save another West Ashley architectural and historical icon, the Cavallaro nightclub, which today houses one of the Hendricks car franchises on Savannah Highway.
But the problem with the shed was itwasn’t “historical.” Or rather, no one had added the property to any protected lists for the seven years it was vacant.
Limehouse says he understood and empathized with Smith and other preservationists. He has seen how downtown vegetable sheds have been turned into museums and tourist attractions.
But for him and for his company, the initial decision to tear down was based one thing: safety.
Limehouse said that people, presumably homeless, increasingly broke into the shed, filling it with rotting food, feces and other waste, and “hundreds” of beer bottles.  There was evidence some people lived there, albeit temporarily.
Paying taxes on the unused structure was taking a bite too. And Limehouse didn’t like the insurance exposure, so he decided to tear it down and salvage the potentially prime timbers in the structure, which would be repurposed for lumber. “We don’t know if there’s heart of pine in there.  We just got started when we got stopped,” said Limehouse.
When he saw the articulated loader eating at the shed, Smith presumed it was doing so without a demolition permit from the county. But, he was told differently and was shown a permit.
Smith then presumed the permit had been filed incorrectly and called for county staff to come shut down the demolition. Later that day, Smith, Limehouse, his attorney, members of Historic Charleston Foundation, and county staff and attorneys all sat down.
Limehouse said it turned out that his demo crew was missing a wastewater permit that the county had not proffered when he had earlier told staff of his plans. So he applied for that final permit and was given the go-ahead to begin bulldozing the next day.
County building inspector Holly Miller said if there had not been an effort to put the shed on a protected list, then there was no legal reason Limehouse couldn’t tear down his own property.
Smith countered by saying that county ordinances don’t require they be on the National Register of Historic Places, just that they be “eligible.”
Miller said following the full permitting process was important not only for the community, but also for the property owner. On top of ensuring that the timbers weren’t soaked with creosote, which could cause pollution if improperly handled, trash pickup would have to be arranged, too.
For the property owner, the county can also reduce the value of the property, and thereby their tax burden sooner.
Smith has been in mad-dash mode since Limehouse was given the second go-ahead. On top of bringing the Historic Foundation into the fray, he’s also contacted the city about a potential shared preservation project at the site with the county. and he’s put together an application for historic recognition for the state Archives office.
For Limehouse, it’s all been a headache. His demolition crew even had a state permit from the Department of Health and Environmental Control, but still the articulated loader sat idle on Friday afternoon. “There are two sides to every story,” said Limehouse. “ I guess this is just one of those things.”
Smith’s biggest worry was that he wouldn’t be able to wrangle a stop-work order from the county in time to stop the further demolition. The foundation on Friday filed an appeal to further delay the demolition.
Smith had nothing but compliments for how accommodating Limehouse had been so far. “But what is one more week gonna hurt – all we need is a week where we can all sit down calmly and talk.” Last Friday, Smith got his week and then some as the demolition was postponed to at least October as all sides work to figure out the best plan of action.