Jim Rocco’s long and winding gravel driveway through thick, swampy forest would not be out of place elsewhere in South Carolina, but it sticks out in the buzzing beach town of Folly Beach. Even more conspicuous, however, is the place it leads to.
A dock, miles of trails, and a rustic but charming early 1900s home await on Rocco’s eighteen-acre property, which he has owned since 1999. What began as a city dumping ground, squatter’s haven, and “obvious teardown” to Rocco became a two-decade project that continues to this day.
“The African Queen movie with Humphrey Bogart? Nothing on us,” recalls Rocco, an artist and retired e-commerce executive, of the initial state of the property. “You couldn’t go ten feet. You couldn’t see the river. Everything was overgrown for years. It was just left here.”
Rocco says the spirit of his grandfather, an immigrant from Naples, Italy, inspired him to purchase the neglected tract and the cottage that came with it. “There were stories from either my father or my grandfather, saying, ‘Hey, Jimmy, you see that property over there? I could have bought that for $10.’ Every time they told me this story, I put $1 in a jar,” he recalls with a laugh.
He also credits the intuition of his late wife, Shann, for supporting the decision to to keep the house and land relatively intact—to the benefit of local deer, eagles, cranes, and bobcats. Though a few protected pockets remain, Folly Beach today is dotted with beach houses, and the proliferation of short-term rental properties has sparked vigorous local debate.
A satellite view of the island tells the story: a neat grid of neighborhood streets, riverside expanses of marsh, and one noticeable cluster of dense forest on the island’s west side—Rocco’s property.
The land is part of the wider history of Folly Beach: It served as a boys’ summer camp during the 1930s and likely a staging area and supply depot for the Union during the Civil War, according to records kept by previous owners. Now Rocco, who fancies himself a “steward” of the land more than an owner, says his primary goal is to preserve the natural space. While the property, named the Folly River House, is rentable on sites like Airbnb, it is more often borrowed for a quick getaway by family, friends, and Rocco himself. Rocco is also putting together an events business tailored to the site, which he plans to leave in the charge of his daughter.
In his spare time, he enjoys mentoring students at the American College of Building Arts in nearby Charleston, often providing many young craftsmen with their first commissions. A few of his outstanding orders include a Poseidon throne, a Medusa head, and a seven-foot statue of a “Lizard man,” all of which will soon be on display on the River House property. “Make magic. Be inspired. Get back to nature. For me, it’s that simple,” Rocco says.
He’s sprinkling his own magic touch on the Folly River House, including but not limited to his locally famous American flag sculptures made from stacked logs. Civil war bullets, a trombone, and his grandfather’s old pickax head are just a few of the personally or culturally significant items that replace the stars on these wooden flags, adorning each with a unique backstory.
His largest flag sculpture, which sits on Folly’s Huron Avenue, makes use of old parts of the former Folly Beach Pier to commemorate the workers who assembled the new pier “on time and ahead of schedule, with no complaints.” Next to the flag is a sitting area and a sign bearing the beach town’s nickname: the Edge of America.
Once, like many barrier islands in the South, Folly Beach was an isolated stretch of coastal jungle that truly did feel like the edge of America. You can still find a vestige of that place at Rocco’s River House.
“In the end we made the decision together. Keep it as is. Keep it special,” recalls Rocco of the leap of faith he and wife took years ago. “And now it’s just a little gem. You come here and your world stops here.”
Charlie Hastings, a 2026 intern at Garden & Gun, hails from Charleston, South Carolina, and graduated from Trinity College Dublin, where he studied English and Italian and was editor-in-chief of The University Times.