folk-blog.com

I live in downtown Columbus, Ohio on a relatively busy street. There is a bridge over Interstate 71 a half block east of my apartment that links downtown with the Near East Side, one of the lowest-income neighborhoods in the city. As a result of the bridge, much of the pedestrian traffic between the Near East Side and Downtown goes right past my apartment building.

Earlier today I needed to unload a lot of stuff out of my car, so I parked it on the street in front of my apartment, rather than in its normal off-street spot, which is much farther away. I just went out to move it back to the regular parking spot, and I saw a guy walking down the middle of Town Street. Not on the sidewalk. Down the middle of the street. In the middle of one of the lanes of traffic. After dark. Wearing dark clothing. I suppose there is a case for walking down the middle of the street:

• Not many cars out downtown on Sunday night
• The street is clear and most of the sidewalks still have a couple inches of snow on them
• The street is relatively well-lighted

Still, this is not a risk I would take, when I think about it being 16 degrees F outside and the possibility of a car not seeing me, or hitting a patch of black ice and being unable to stop or slow down. I would rather brave the sidewalk and get my shoes wet. I suspect there is a folk song in here somewhere about the risks we choose to take. I'm not the one to write it, but one of you might be.