Becky Says...

March 2004

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March 16

My friend Fred was telling a group on a message board about giving directions to someone headed to Rock Hill, South Carolina. And as soon as I saw the words, "directions" and "Rock Hill," I knew I'd have to tell you why that combination of words makes me just a little crazy.

Some friends from my hometown had moved all thirty-four miles away, to Rock Hill, when I was in college. These friends were a teacher and his wife, and their two little girls. Over my Christmas break, I made plans to go see them. This included getting directions to their home. The teacher, B., was the giver of said directions.

The main thing he thought I needed to know was that there was a lot of road construction going on in Rock Hill at the time. He carefully gave me alternate streets, and used Winthrop University (then College) as a landmark.

The trip went just fine until I actually got into Rock Hill. Apparently, someone had neglected to tell the street crews not to tear up all available streets leading to Winthrop. Or something like that. I never did find the place, and rode around a gracious amount of time before I found a service station with a helpful soul who knew the area well enough to give me clear directions to B.'s home.

Once I got there, the visit was great, and I really didn't have any trouble heading home the next day.

Fast-forward a few years. B. and his wife, J., had divorced, and B. was getting married to another teacher, T. My mother and I were invited to the wedding, and B. called to give me directions to the church. This time, he warned, there was road construction going on not too far from the church, but since it was a Saturday he didn't expect us to have to use alternate streets. And Winthrop University was not mentioned as a landmark, at all.

So Mother and I set out, in our finest summer formal wear (it was a nighttime wedding), late on a lovely Saturday afternoon. We got to Rock Hill, thinking we had plenty of time to get to the church. And we would have, except some combination of fates had decreed that I would see Winthrop University this trip, and had made the street construction maze work so that I saw pretty much all of the campus' exterior perimeter. Trust me---I more than made up for missing it the first trip.

We did eventually find the church, in time for the reception following the ceremony.

Not too long after they were married, B. and T. moved to another town, and I haven't had reason to drive to Rock Hill since. But if I ever do need to head there, you can be sure I'm taking a GPS unit!

Text © copyright 2000-2004 Becky