Loris woman known as ‘everybody’s grandma’ remembered by couple who never met her
After her dad bought a house in Loris, Debie Shapelow noticed a group of people chatting at a table in the backyard, tucked away by some trees at the edge of the property.
She didn’t think much of it at first, until she realized they were coming consistently, smoking cigarettes and disposing of the butts in a tin can placed next to the rickety picnic table. Shapelow went outside to talk to them.
“It’s okay, we know Miss Lucille,” they explained.
Everybody knew Miss Lucille — Shapelow had heard that many times since her parents, Bob and Dot Gorski, bought the house.
“I bought the house on Liberty [Street] across from the hospital,” Shapelow would tell other Loris residents. “And everyone knows it was Miss Lucille’s house.”
The table in the backyard was just another way Lucille Waine had left her mark on Loris and the house itself. Her presence was known across town, and it’s been missed since her death in February 2020.
Waine didn’t smoke, but living near a hospital, staff and visitors often stepped across the street to smoke their cigarettes near her home. She grew tired of the cigarette butts cluttering her property.
Instead of shooing them away, she set up the table in the backyard and designated it to anyone who wanted to use it. But there was a catch: They first had to clean up the discarded cigarettes near her yard.
To those who knew and loved Waine, this made total sense. Her characteristic kindness was often accompanied by a bit of a stubborn streak and “hard headed” attitude.
Nearly a year and a half after her death, Waine is loved and missed. She’s honored by those who knew her, and those who didn’t.
To the Gorskis and their family, the modest Loris house has become a symbol of small town life, and a way to keep alive the memory of someone they never met. Now, a new table has replaced Waine’s picnic table, still a watering hole for people looking for a spot to smoke a cigarette and relax.
“Let us continue on with Miss Lucille’s legacy,” Shapelow said.
‘She was everybody’s grandma’
Waine, best known as “Miss Lucille” around Loris, was born in 1932 and grew up in Loris before living all over the country, including in Oregon and Montana. She returned to Loris in the early 2000s, wanting to be closer to family and her roots.
She made a reputation for herself in Loris, frequenting local businesses and getting involved in city council and the local chamber of commerce. But her involvement in the community went further than just supporting mom-and-pop shops and piping up with her opinion on local government.
“The minute you met her, you fell in love,” said Ernie Ross, a good friend of Waine’s who owns Ernie’s Hometown Diner in Loris. “She was everybody’s grandma.”
Waine was something of a collector, and she had a knack for gathering things others wanted to throw out. She opened a booth at Carolina Furniture in Loris, which was owned by David Cox before it burned down in 2013. The two became great friends, along with current Loris mayor Todd Harrelson.
When Cox’s own mother got sick, Waine stepped in to help. She stayed with Fannie Cox for three years before her death in 2017. As a devout Seventh-Day Adventist Christian, Waine was told by God, Cox said, to help his family.
“So she was there literally until the morning Mama passed,” Cox said. “And that was the end of her assignment.”
Waine made everyone feel like family, her loved ones say, but her blood relatives consider themselves extra lucky.
“If anybody ever had the perfect mother, I did,” said Waine’s daughter, Brenda Carothers. “And I am so thankful for that.”
Waine was a hard worker by any definition. She churned her own butter for the family and often held two to three waitressing jobs at a time, according to Carothers.
Bernard Marsh had wanted to become a part of Waine’s family. A cousin of Marsh’s who lived in Myrtle Beach introduced him to Waine in 2019, and the two began talking on the phone regularly.
They bonded over their love for southern gospel and country music, and Waine reminded Marsh fondly of his late wife.
“She was vigorous and smart and experienced and talented,” Marsh said. “We decided that we’d make a perfect match.”
‘I never knew grief before’
Waine and Marsh were engaged near the end of 2019, both in their late 80s, and the wedding was set for the following February.
Waine wouldn’t live long enough to see it.
Shortly before the wedding date, Carothers had planned to fly into Myrtle Beach. The weather was nasty the day of her flight, and she got stuck in Charlotte. Waine decided to drive the three hours to Charlotte to pick up her daughter.
Waine’s car hit a truck that had collided with a bridge on Interstate 20 near the 96 mile marker, The State newspaper reported at the time.
Waine died at the scene. She was 87.
Meanwhile, Carothers waited at the Charlotte airport. Her flight was tumultuous, passengers “white-knuckled” as the plane approached the ground. She was still shaken up from the landing when her name was called over the intercom.
The attendant told her to call the people who were supposed to pick her up. Instead, she reached a nurse at the hospital where Waine’s cousin, her passenger, received treatment for injuries she sustained in the crash.
Carothers rented a car to drive to the hospital.
On the way there, she got a call from the coroner informing her Waine had died.
“Probably seven days a week for almost two years, I’ve woken up with that going through my head,” Carothers said. “I never knew grief before.”
Waine was meant to be married on Valentine’s Day, 2020. She was buried that day instead.
‘She lived life right on up until the end’
Now, Waine is remembered for her love of gardening, her musical interests, her trademark combination of grit and kindness and the way she often wore a rose in her hair.
Harrelson and Cox chuckle at the memory of Waine joining in to sing a verse of Jim Stafford’s “Wildwood Weed,” a country song about men who accidentally grow marijuana and try to hide it from the cops.
Carothers will remember her mother as someone who was not only well known, but well loved. Each and every time they entered a store in Loris, Carothers was “amazed” at how many people recognized and greeted Waine.
Ross hears Waine’s voice in his head, giving the same advice he had heard for years about cutting back on red meat and improving his health.
Looking back, Marsh and Harrelson recall conversations that mean something different to them after her death.
Marsh and Waine were on their way to pick up their marriage license in Loris the month before Waine’s accident. She pointed out the small cemetery where she wanted to be buried, which Marsh calls “curious” considering the timing of her death.
Harrelson, on the other hand, got a chance to say something of a farewell. The night before her death, Waine attended a Loris city council meeting. She announced her upcoming marriage, and said goodbye to the town before moving away.
“She lived life right on up to the end and even had an opportunity to tell everybody goodbye,” Harrelson said. “That seems pretty doggone special to me.”
‘We hope we do Miss Lucille proper’
For the Gorskis, Waine’s old house is more than just a new residence. Bob Gorski spent more than 60 years as a contractor in New Jersey. Renovating Waine’s house is his “last hurrah” before retiring at the age of 82.
Each morning during the renovation, Gorski arrived at the property as the sun was rising. He’d stay until late in the evening, trotting back and forth between the house and the driveway, firing up the saw and measuring planks of wood.
After noticing Waine’s home had changed hands and Gorski was hard at work, neighbors started pitching in to help.
The Gorskis chose to keep their business local to Loris, seeking out a nearby company to install heating and air conditioning and buying their lunches from local restaurants and delis. Neighbors offered their help to mow the lawn and help preserve Waine’s cherished garden.
Waine’s garden will live on, in physical form and in the memory of her loved ones. For Cox, vivid memories of Waine flood his mind when he sees flowers.
“She absolutely had a green thumb … Every time we go out there, there’s new flowers popping up everywhere,” Shapelow said. “We hope we do Miss Lucille proper.”
Letting go of Waine’s house didn’t sit right with Ross for a long time, until he met Gorski and Shapelow.
“I wanted to tell them no,” Ross said. “They finally came one day and picked the keys up to get in. And we sat here and talked for a while and I had a peace about it when they left.”
This story was originally published July 21, 2021 at 6:58 AM.
