Excerpt:
"Heads turned across town as the big white limo rumbled past. If a jaw had ever dropped in Florence, South Carolina, you would have seen it most clearly when this fine automobile made a right turn into the dirt lot at Smiley’s.
The white, cinder block shack sat smack in the middle of a sea of gravel, sandwiched between the mobile home lots out by the airport. A big sign with red letters perched on the roof told all of the passing beach traffic that this was Smiley’s. How the limo inhabitants picked it out will forever be a mystery and no small part of the oft-repeated tale."
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