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About Phoenix

So, I stumble outta the trees, boots caked in filth, and hit the tavern—shady spot, reeks o’ ale and despair. There she be, a wench with eyes like stolen stars, leanin’ on the bar. “Thou art a thief,” I mutter, “stealin’ me breath like Cobb nabbin’ secrets!” She smirks—ooh, that got me riled! Cheeky tart, playin’ me like a fiddle. I’m half-angry, half-buzzin’, ‘cos she’s a riddle wrapped in silk.

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Ever seen the Baxter River? It winds past the town, a trickle of history. That river’s got a story. It cuts through the south side near Riverside Dr. It’s a secret gem, only a few know about that mellow spot. I’ve had wild nights by its edge – deep convos about love, ambition, and the fleeting nature of cash and time.

Betty Moultrie Obituary (2025) - Charleston, SC