SR23

Saturday, I went with some friends to see Thomas Worthington's performance of The Crucible. Having never read the play myself, I was excited to go to a show where I could be completely engaged in the story, without that little voice in the back of my head saying, "this part's coming up" or "he can't die yet, he hasn't said this line". I was very impressed with the whole production. It took place in a "black box" theater which immerses the audience in the action by placing them very close to the stage. The acting was inspiring. I have to wonder if cities like Worthington or Marysville put something in the water or if naturally gifted actors spring up in the same general vicinity on their own. The sets were clean, simple. The lighting design was fantastic (Haha)! In all it was an impressive show.
My ride home was a straight shot up High Street and SR23 which gave my mind a little room to wander (only a little because, of course, one shouldn't let one's mind wander too far when one is behind the wheel of a speeding car). Upon closer observation, SR23 has been at the root of most of my memories from high school. Obviously, Coover Road feeds directly off of 23 so virtually every memory of every trip too and from school contains a small bit of that highway. Some of my favorite memories are from Fridays driving to five o'clock call for band, the sun setting and the windows down, not a care in the world. Chipotle runs are another favorite of mine, from Dave's devirginization between exams junior year to the infamous race between the sedan and the minivan.
As with everything in life, with the happy comes the sad and while SR23 is home to many happy memories (ones of coffee runs before school and trips to Wendy’s for Frosties and French fries), it also has its fare-share of sadness. In early 2006, the road took the life of our friend and classmate Spencer Smith. The silence in the hallways after his death will ring on in the hearts of everyone who knew Spencer.
Another scary memory for me takes place on the stormy night of a jazz band gig at All Occasions, just north of BV on SR23. The clouds had been gathering all night and by the time our show was finished the sky was dark green and churning. The rain battered my windshield as I drove south toward home. Suddenly traffic came to a screeching halt and soon I could see flashing lights in the distance; there had been a crash. My mind immediately began to race. I had seen Casey and Lee pull out in front of me, and I was sure Davy had pulled out before them. What if the lights were rushing past to save one of them? Maybe it was irrational, but I had never felt fear like that before.
Through the happiness and the tears, SR23 has been there, always humming in the background, ready to take us where we need to go and, for that, I am genuinely thankful.

If you have a memory from SR23 that you are thankful for, leave it in the comments.