When Prince Charles came to visit Charleston after Hurricane Hugo in 1990, we were excited to be one of his stops at 86 Church.  After the hurricane had taken the roof from all three structures on the property, my father decided that he was going to get all of the roofs replaced with Welsh slate.  Within a span of months, my father had shipments of slate in our driveway and a Welsh couple living on our third floor.  The Prince heard of my father's efforts and decided to make our house a stop on the list. 

   Forced to wear some ruffled, puffed sleeved, bowed dress, I begrudgingly stood perched at the head of the driveway awaiting their arrival.  The entourage arrived.  They blocked the streets and escorted Prince Charles and my parents to the garden.  I remained at my post.  Luckily, one of the gentlemen decided to chat with me.  As the crowds stood behind barricades, we talked of the hurricane and all that had happened.  The next thing I knew, the visit came to an end. 

   My father approached me as we waved goodbye to ask if I knew who I had been talking to during the visit.  Thinking my companion was a security guard, I was surprised to find out that he was Prince Charles’ cousin, the King Constantine of Greece.  Needless to say, he did not whisk me away to Greece, but an unforgettable moment nevertheless.