‘peaceful place’ (Myrtle Beach)

Billy Roberts has lovingly cared for his ‘peaceful place’ in Myrtle Beach
By ELAINE GASTON - egaston@thesunnews.com
Man’s nursery is his paradise

MYRTLE BEACH — Behind a chain-link fence covered with ivy and nestled under a canopy of towering oak, cypress and magnolia trees is a little piece of preserved Myrtle Beach, unscathed by bulldozers and concrete, thanks to its caretaker, Billy Roberts.

“When you get in here, if you close your eyes, you can’t imagine you’re in the middle of town until you hear the cars going by on Oak Street,” said Roberts, 78. “I enjoy being out here every day. Some people describe it as a cathedral, the most peaceful place.”

In this corner between 27th and 28th avenues north off Oak Street, sunshine trickles through lush foliage, mama birds find refuge for their young in tree tops, and Roberts ambles along winding pathways amid hundreds of nursery plants in pots that stand like sentinels guarding their secret sanctuary.

Spent leaves and pine needles crackle under foot, and aromas that shift from the sweet scent of gardenias to the earthiness of freshly-watered soil welcome visitors around bends in the foot paths.

A garden hose lies coiled on the ground like a slumbering snake, awaiting its handler to direct its stream of life-giving water to plants reliant on their caretaker’s daily dose, a task that takes three hours each day.

“The nursery is a jewel in the hustle and bustle of Myrtle Beach and can be quite soothing once you get inside,” said Gary Forrester, environmental horticulturist with Clemson University Cooperative Extension Service, who has turned to Roberts on occasion for plant care information.

In this botanical roadside jewel, a tree blown askew during Hurricane Hugo in 1989 remains in its cockeyed position, and the remnants of a crow’s nest hover overhead, left undisturbed by Roberts in hopes the feathered friend will make a return visit one day.

“They’ve been known to come back to the same nest,” he said.

Once while visiting Roberts’ nursery, longtime friend and photographer Jack Thompson said he noticed the fallen tree and offered to help Roberts clear it away.

“He said, ‘Heavens no. My father planted that tree. I’m not going to cut that tree down,’” Thompson said. “He is, using an old cliche, the consummate Southern gentleman. There is no man I respect more than Billy Roberts.”

Thompson said he’s most struck by Roberts’ gentle and sentimental heart.

“I told him I was interested in putting azaleas in my yard, and I asked him about buying some azaleas,” Thompson said. “He said, ‘I wouldn’t part with those azaleas. My mother planted those.’ Those plants have become his children. He is the pied piper of his garden.”

Nothing much changes in this guarded corner of Roberts’ property except for the seasons and the thriving plants. And that’s exactly how Roberts demands it because his intervention — other than the tender loving care he showers on this nursery’s inhabitants — would disrupt the natural balance of its existence. Plants have been allowed to grow without pruning, and hundreds of other nursery plants have been allowed to sit unsold for years in their containers, some now with roots that have crept through their pot’s bottom in search of the earth below.

“That nursery is a paradise,” said friend Cheryl Green Munn, who described Roberts as the mentor for the North Strand Master Gardeners Association. “You feel like you’re in another world when you’re in there. And Billy, he’s just a wonderful and loving man. He’s just a unique spirit in the world. To know him is to love him.”

The nursery, once the only retail nursery between Mount Pleasant and Wilmington, N.C., was founded by Roberts’ parents, Reba and Ray, in 1964. Roberts’ father died in 1987, and his mother in 1991. Roberts continued their legacy by tending to the business.

“I quit selling over five years ago,” Roberts said. “I quit because when I’d get to selling, I’d remember something about that plant, and I just couldn’t let it go. Everything has some significance to me. It represents the happiest time of my life with my mama and daddy. All of this is too precious to me.”

Even his home next to the nursery remains relatively unchanged since his wife, Carolyn, died in 1991, except for becoming the receptacle for mementos and odd items Roberts has found over the years, including Indian relics, fossils, boards from old schoolhouses and a water scoop made by his grandmother from a gourd when he was a child.

“My house is like a museum,” he admitted. “It is as my wife left it. All of her clothes are still in the closet. Two pieces of clothes she bought and laid over the chair are still where she put them. And they’ll stay there the rest of my life.

“All of these things sustain me,” he said.

Roberts met his wife, from the Allsbrook community, in the spring of 1960 and married her that fall. The couple had no children, but Carolyn’s love for children led her to open a day care center that she operated for years. She often took the children across the street for nursery tours.

“She was a wonderful woman,” he said, his chin quivering and his voice wavering. “Before I got married, I knew I needed to feel like I was going to die without that girl. The first time I met her, I knew she was that girl. She was just such an extraordinary person.”

Roberts’ loyalty to his wife, parents and those he meets is to be admired, said Pastor Bruce Crawford of First Baptist Church in Myrtle Beach, where Roberts serves as a greeter. Roberts, an avid photographer, often carries his camera with him, taking pictures of church members interacting with each other and then surprising them with the photos.

“He said the most important spot is at that front door,” Crawford said. “There is a Bible verse: ‘I’d rather be a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord,’ a verse I think he cherishes ... He’s just such a sweet man, very loving and thoughtful. I wish I had a church full of Billy Robertses.”

Being a church greeter is among the things Roberts said makes him happy.

That and his nursery.

“Both give me a feeling inside that surges within my body,” he said.

Roberts has been offered millions for his corner property, but he says letting it go would dishonor his parents.

“The money, it don’t mean a thing to me,” he said. “I could spend the rest of my life in my nursery. Those are my memories.”

Seeing the property developed would be heartbreaking, he said.

Witnessing Myrtle Beach’s progression from a sleepy, wooded beachside town into a bustling, hotel-filled, highway-clogged tourist destination has been painful enough for the Myrtle Beach native.

Roberts was around when work on the Intracoastal Waterway began in the early 1930s; Kings Highway was a sandy, dirt road; Hurricane Hazel struck in 1954; and Withers Swash was reconfigured in the 1960s (the community’s biggest desecration, according to Roberts).

“It breaks my heart to see how Myrtle Beach has changed,” he said. “What is left for people to appreciate? There is nothing sound people can remember now.”

Roberts, who once worked for the Myrtle Beach Police Department as the fingerprint and crime scene photographer, has preserved early Myrtle Beach in his photographs and hopes to share them one day in a book.

Many of the photos are before and after construction and development.

“I never get tired of looking at my pictures,” he said.

His breadth of knowledge of Myrtle Beach’s history and his knack for remembering names and details astonishes his friends. When leafing through many of his old black-and-white photos, Roberts rattles off the names of those depicted without hesitation.

“He loves the past,” said longtime friend Hazel Hatchell, a retired State Farm Insurance agent. “That’s his greatest tribute to this community.”

Roberts is most admired by his friends for his kindness and his dedication to Myrtle Beach and family.

“I think he’s got a heart as big as all outdoors,” said longtime friend Myron Creel, an Horry County police officer and fellow Mason. “Billy loves everybody and everything. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say a mean word about anybody.”

Myrtle Beach City Councilman Wayne Gray has known Roberts since he attended Carolyn Robert’s day care center when he was a child.

“He is and has been one of those jewels every community has, a particular character known by everyone,” Gray said. “We all hope the nursery remains Mr. Billy’s nursery. It’s one of those treasures you don’t want to ever forget.”

Roberts said he may turn the property into a preserve. Or he may try something no one else has done before, a thought that brings a sly smile to his face:

“They say you can’t take it with you. But there’s a first time for everything.”