
I spent the last few days bringing the book back to Beaufort, its setting and home. There was a big buzz building around it and I was worried there wouldn’t be enough books so I loaded a box of 24 into the big suitcase that I normally use to haul our dirty clothes to the Laundromat and paid the fee at the airport and got on a plane.
I stayed on Hilton Head with my aunt and uncle Susan and Richard Woods (who are also great friends) but I must have brought the cold—the first morning I woke up it was in the twenties—even though we were eating a fresh fall crop of tomatoes and grapefruits they grew in the yard.
It wasn’t only cold; it was windy. That mattered because it caused them to cancel the ferry that Burton Sauls—of a gre

Burton, a Beaufort native who recently returned from San Francisco, picked me up and we drove over to Harbor Town. We walked around a corner looking for the café at the base of the lighthouse where Roger told us to wait for him. There he was, looking a bit pale.
Now Roger is one hell of a hearty fellow. He’s hunted about everything that moves—including a stint professionally hunting bears in Minnesota—so he could handle cold and danger. And he is at home on the water. His father was the “capum” who built most of the county’s docks. Roger was a born skipper and when he said:
“That was rough. I’m worried about going back. Let’s get a drink first,” neither Burton nor I argued a damn bit. In fact, it made me nervous as hell to see him a bit shaken. I looked out at the white caps behind him and felt worse.
Turned out, after our drink, it was a cold ride but as long as we kept it slow, it wasn’t so rough. We made it over and spent the day with a jug of brown liquor sitting at Roger’s dining room table recording conversations that Burton will turn into Radio Free Daufuskie podcasts—and I hope we weren’t too loud and annoying to Roger’s wonderful new bride Amy. We had a blast—and the ferry took us back a bit more warmly than we came.
Burton was the new media end of things—but there were several older media venues as well. I was interviewed on WHHI and later on Beaufort’s Gospel radio channel.
But it was the reading of the book—set up by Grace Cordial (who is both) at the Beaufort County Library—at the County Council Chambers. It was an ironic choice of venue because if there is a villain in the early part of the book, it is the County Council, from whom McTeer wanted to wrest all authority to police the county.
The room was packed. It was amazing to see so many faces that were in the book together in the same room. It was so moving. My parents and even my dad’s old Coast guard buddy were there. Mostly, however, the McTeer family impressed me. Thomas is a major character in the book and he was there with his daughter and one of his grandchildren. It meant so much that he, in particular, liked the book. I did not use the banjo for this reading—I didn’t need anything to help hold their attention. Afterwards, there was a line farther than I could see to sign books. It was unbelievable. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Grace, the Beaufort County Library, Richard and Susan, and the whole town of Beaufort.
The next morning, I had a little time before returning to the airport, and I stopped by the cemetery to talk to the old man himself.
I’ll follow this up with a slew of links to Burton’s podcasts, th

http://www.citytrex.com/blog/
And you can buy Roger's books here
http://www.amazon.com/gp/search/ref=sr_tc_2_0?rh=i%3Astripbooks%2Ck%3ARoger+Pinckney&keywords=Roger+Pinckney&ie=UTF8&qid=1292517518&sr=1-2-ent&field-contributor_id=B001K8FLQ4