From Gravedigger to Glad Tidings, stories behind some of the Midlands’ oddest roads
There was no road to Bobby Keisler’s new property when he bought the Red Bank land in 1984.
When the new road was cut, it was up to Keisler to name it.
“So I named the road after my work,” said Keisler, a Lexington County councilman on the side, but a gravedigger by trade.
Hence, Gravedigger Road, a sandy, bumpy quarter-mile stretch of street was born.
“My wife told me, ‘I’m not going to use that name,’” Keisler said
But it’s a great conversation starter, he said.
And yes, his family puts out a casket decoration for Halloween.
Now Gravedigger Road is a piece of Keisler’s identity — and a part of his community’s identity, too.
Behind most oddly named streets are stories that tell the history of the places they run through or the people who settled them.
We don’t know the stories behind them all. But here are some of our favorite Midlands roads and what we know about how they got their names.
Devils Backbone Road, Batesburg-Leesville
Before it was paved half a century ago, it was a road so bumpy and curvy it was named for Satan’s spine, says Louise Riley, an unofficial town historian who has written hundreds of articles on local history for the community newspaper.
One of the earliest families to live on Devils Backbone Road, Riley says, was the family of Michael Barr, who fought in the Civil War. In Barr’s absence, his family once took a trunk of his valuable possessions, laid it in the middle of Devils Backbone and rode over it with wagons to keep Union soldiers from collecting the valuables, according to Riley.
Despite living in Leesville for most of her 79 years, Riley doesn’t know the story behind another oddly named road that intersects Devils Backbone: Dog Leg Road. But she imagines it’s because it’s, well, sort of shaped like a dog leg.
Loner Road, Blythewood
We know what you’re thinking, but, no, this road name was not simply the brainchild of an intense introvert.
It was named for the Loner family, who were early settlers of the land, according to Jim McLean, a local historian.
Portia Road, Blythewood
For being the first woman to graduate from a medical school in the Carolinas, Dr. Portia Lubchenco got a road named after her, McLean says.
Lubchenco — who took her unusual surname from her Russian husband, who moved to the area to study cotton, McLean said — was a native of Ridgeway who graduated from North Carolina Medical College in 1912, according to her obituary.
She later moved to Colorado to practice medicine and was named the Colorado Mother of the Year in 1954.
Three Dog Road, Chapin
There were four men who used to live along the road in the days before it was paved, says Liesha Huffstetler, who writes about area history for the local Lexington County Chronicle newspaper. Those four men frequently would argue with one another to prove their dominance, Huffstetler said, and they were called “big dog” fights.
So when one of the four men would reference the other three and the road where they all lived, he would call it “the one where three dogs live,” Huffstetler said.
Glad Tidings Lane, Lugoff
We know it was named in 2004 by the construction company that laid the road, but we don’t know why it was so named, says Vic Carpenter, the Kershaw County administrator who spent the better part of an afternoon trying to track down the meaning of Glad Tidings.
It seems there’s a bit of a liking for holiday- and winter-themed road names in the Midlands, despite the area’s “famously hot” reputation. In the Bethune community of Kershaw County, there’s Silver Bell Lane, and in Lexington, there’s Snow Lane (although, Snow could just as well pay homage to a family, we suppose).
Some others we like but know nothing about:
Chipmunk Lane and Beaver Lane, West Columbia. (We suspect these names were picked just because they’re so darn cute.)
Penny Lane, Oak Grove.
And, of course, Memory Lane, Lexington.
What did we miss? Do you know the stories behind any of these unusual road names? Is there another street sign that catches your eye every time you drive by?
Tell us: Email reporter Sarah Ellis at sellis@thestate.com, and The State may publish your additional weird road name stories.