Tom Hora remembers Murrells Inlet when the marsh bottom was filled with life. White and orange sandbars were braided within the mud flats. Shrimping nets pulled starfish, moon fish, crabs and baby flounder. Boats would move in and out with the tide.
“When I was a kid, it was really alive,” Hora, 69, said. “Can’t say it any better than that.”
He remembered cleaning fish on the creek front with his dad, right in front of his grandmother’s house, now torn down to pave the Wahoo’s parking lot. His dad and uncle used to catch stringers of fish, having to lean away from each other to keep the full weight off the ground. Hermitage Creek, the channel in front of his mother’s house a block down the road, was waist deep at low-tide. But these memories are from over half a century ago…