I'm going to add another thing I fear about living in this city: Drivers. I thought I had seen bad drivers in Asheville, where I have personally witnessed someone getting pulled over for traveling down the passing lane of a six-lane street in a motorized wheelchair, people doing U-turns on the interstate by driving through the median, and someone stop their car in the middle of traffic on a bridge that carries nearly 100,000 cars per day, get out, and dance in the road. Also, people in Asheville have been arrested for driving the wrong way on the interstate and for driving on the runway at the airport.
But Greenville.
Here in Greenville, I have never in my life witnessed so many cars that, feeling constricted by the confines of the road, yearn to breathe free and launch themselves into landscaping, storefronts, houses, and pedestrians. When they built the new federal courthouse downtown, they lined the streetfront with maples. One was mowed down by the second day. At the interstate exit closest to my house, the hillside is, was, beautifully landscaped with redbud trees and flowering bushes. It still is, I guess, aside from the trench bulldozed through it by a Greenville Driver (tm). Everywhere throughout the city you can see where this car or that car plowed through the landscaping in front of businesses or in medians. At most major intersections there is glass, plastic, and metal litter collected in little drifts where cars have collided. There are wrecks that cause backups daily on every interstate and major road around here -- I saw the aftermath a four-car pileup myself yesterday. Last week I saw a car that was tailgating me get run off the road by a delivery truck that merged without looking, and the week before that I was driving toward downtown and got in the middle of a car chase that went around me. You can also count on people running red lights. It's a given, to the point that when the light turns green, everyone pauses to make sure that everyone running the red light can do so safely.
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"To sustain the life of a large, modern city in this cloying, clinging heat is an amazing achievement. It is no wonder that the white men and women in Greenville walk with a slow, dragging pride, as if they had taken up a challenge and intended to defy it without end." -- Rebecca West for The New Yorker, 1947
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