Visiting The Memorials At John D. Long Lake

John D. Long Lake in Union County, South Carolina
in mid-November 2021.

 

Located about 3 miles west of the town of Lockhart, South Carolina, John D. Long Lake in Union County is an 80-acre manmade lake built in the 1970s and used for recreational fishing.

The lake was created in the 1970s on the initiative of then South Carolina state senator John David Long III (1930-2005) and named for his father, John David Long II (1901-1967), also a former South Carolina state senator.

I visited the lake back in November of last year, mostly because in spite of living about 20 miles from the place I'd never been there before, though I had driven by the area many times on SC Highway 49 between Lockhart on the mighty Broad River and the town of Union. In a way it was a spur of the moment decision on my part, but I also felt like there was something I needed to do.

You can't really see the lake from the main road. Once you see the sign for the lake there is a short dirt road through the thick copse of trees that takes you from the main highway to the lake.

Standing there alone by the secluded, placid lake with late autumn foliage in the background, I felt very vulnerable and scared. Aside from the few birds in the trees, the place was eerily quiet. Not even the catfish in the deep lake were jumping. Even though there were fewer leaves left on the trees, the sun was having a hard time shining through. The place was dark and spooky.

Its not very hard to imagine some monster similar to the creature from the Black Lagoon crawling out of that lake, or (far more likely) a bear lunging out of nowhere and going right for you.

What drew me there wasn't the view of the lake -- at least not entirely. My attention turned away from the lake to the two beautifully carved granite memorials near the woods dedicated to two young boys who lost their lives on the lake over a quarter of a century ago.

I was 18 years old and less than a year away from graduating high school when, on Tuesday, October 25, 1994, a woman named Susan Smith from neighboring Union County, South Carolina, reported her car had been stolen along with her two young sons Michael Daniel (age 3) and Alexander Tyler (14 months old) by a black man.

The story of the reported carjacking and kidnapping of the two boys would become a national story with Smith and her then husband making emotional appeals to the alleged kidnapper for the safe return of their children.

At the time I remembered being really worried for those kids. Not because of the reported kidnapping (though a part of me continued to hope that they would be found alive) but the small sick feeling that I felt when my grandmother Carolyn (God rest her soul) watched the live television news conference with Smith crying and flat out said, "She's lying."

As usual, it turned out my dear Maw Maw was right, as she tended to be -- well, about 95% of the time anyhow.

Ten days later, on Tuesday, November 3, 1994, Susan Smith confessed to the police that she drowned both of her two sons still strapped in their car seats in John D. Long Lake and made up the carjacking story, turning a national story into a national tragedy with terrible implications.

This was a real life horror story, and it happened about 25 miles from where I lived.

Even now, after over two-and-a-half decades after the event, I can remember the sense of outrage and anger local people felt. Even to this day some people still get angry whenever the subject is brought up.

The fact that she blamed an African-American man for the crime was a terrible throwback to times in our nation's past where similar incidents led to horrible racial issues and reactions; something that many of us at the time believed that our little section of the country was well beyond. Smith's story and accusation showed that many of us still have a long way to go.

Probably the worst part are the mental images one can come up with just standing there next to that lake and imagining the day that car slowly sank with two children in the backseat. It was something I tried very hard not to think of while I was standing by that lake.

There may not be a lake monster living in the depths, but on a fall day like the one I was visiting on, there was a monster there. One far scarier than anything an author like Stephen King could come up with in his worst nightmares. 

Susan Smith was found guilty of her heinous crime and sentenced to life imprisonment. She still remains in prison as of the writing of this article. Nothing more needs to be said of her. 

Though a whole generation has been born since that terrible incident, the lake still carries with it a sense of foreboding. Since that time at least seven other people (including four members of a family group) have tragically drowned in that lake when the vehicle they were in went off the boat ramp and into the lake -- ironically while visiting the memorials themselves. The old boat ramp itself has since been demolished.

Although I do hold some belief in the supernatural beyond what my Christian faith tells me about the afterlife for various reasons both scientific and based on a couple of personal experiences, I have a hard time accepting that places can be cursed.

Still, in spite of the fact that people still go fishing in the lake (and likely other things too if the old condom wrapper I'd found was any indication -- some folks can get antsy anywhere I suppose) I couldn't help but hurry up and do what I came to do and get back on the road.

I went to the two granite memorials for Michael and Alex to get the photos I wanted to share with y'all. 

As you can see one of the memorials is a simple granite memorial and the other is a beautifully carved black granite monument with the images of the two boys, forever young, smiling back at visitors.

Its heartwarming to know that, even after all these years, people still take the time to pay tribute to these young lives by leaving toys and other gifts on the site. It should be noted that neither of the boys are actually buried on the site. Sadly there's no memorial for the visitors who drowned afterwards. The site is well maintained.

I went into the armrest of my car and found a small toy that I left at the memorials, along with a couple of coins. Then I got in my car and thirty seconds of driving later I was back on the main road and thankfully in the sunshine again.

I can think of no better way to conclude this article than with my final photo of the small plaque on one of the memorials and the inscribed message it leaves.