In 1991, a 10-year-old boy caught his first glimpse of the raw materials that were scheduled to become the 202 freeway in the coming years.
At the time, the freeway was supposed to be completed in the year 2002, an opening date that was probably chosen because "202 in 2002" just sounded really catchy.
While 2002 seemed far off at the time, last weekend, it finally happened.
That 10-year-old boy, who is now a columnist for the State Press, saw the grand opening of a whopping three mile stretch of freeway known as: three more miles of the 202, now reaching Gilbert Road.
Ben Thelen, (that once innocent 10-year-old child seen above), rejoice.
This is a freeway that was supposed to be extended to Ellsworth by now and 10,000 people showed up Saturday to celebrate the fact that it is running about eight years late. And if eight years means what I think it does, Arizona Department Of Transportation ought to be ecstatic that "202 in 202-0" is awfully catchy in its own right.
I heard of this celebration on Sunday night, and while I was somewhat floored by the number of people that decided running around pavement was a good way to spend their Saturday, I was slightly relieved that the freeway was done.
After all, I had to drive out to Gilbert Road myself, and boy, won't those 3 miles go faster now!
So I'm cruisin' east in my Cavi L4 (what I call my 94' Cavalier makes it sound less Chevy) when I catch an atrocious sign out of the corner of my eye: "All traffic exit at Alma School."
Could it be that 10,000 people had actually confused losing a couple miles of the freeway with gaining it?
Is it possible that Arizona Department of Transportation is really moving so slow that land erosion has gained a mile on them in the past year?
After answering yes to these questions, I still searched for an alternative explanation.
And who better to ask than the poor officer working all night to make sure the barricade didn't try any funny stuff?
In the interest of informing you, the reader, and avenging the 10,000 people tricked into believing the freeway existed, I pulled my car over and began marching up to the officer's driver-side door.
I quickly learned that this particular officer's true interest was working in homicide, since I noticed she was watching the box-office gem "Valentine" on her monitor. I waited for the scene when the killer was just about to make his kill, and gave the car window a good thumping.
After her interrogation, the officer told me that the freeway was closed because they still needed to paint stripes on it. Now, I might not make roads for a living, but as far as I can tell, you need two things to make a freeway: pavement and some paint to divvy up the pavement.
No stripes means no freeway. Somebody must have been sleeping at the ADOT, because they forgot to do half of their job!
My mind flooded with follow-up questions, and I was really going to let this cinema-savant-of-a-cop have it, but then she asked me where I was parked. My cowardly legs proceeded to carry me off as I called back, "Enjoy your movie officer!"
Hungry for more information, I looked through the January 13th issue of the Republic and discovered that among the 10,000 people that enjoyed celebrating 3 miles of unpainted pavement was columnist Mary Jo Pitzl.
Her article, "Snip of a freeway ribbon just won't cut it anymore", talked about the increasing popularity of freeway celebrations and surveyed the event's attendees.
In the article patron Pat Carter was quoted as saying, "I think this is neat. It kind of bonds the community."
Carter is absolutely right. No longer distanced by the harsh and treacherous McKellips Road, the community living west of Country Club Drive can finally learn the truth about their fabled neighbors of Gilbert Road.
After seeing the 10,000 people walking and skating around the freeway Carter went on to ask, "It's kind of funny, isn't it?"
Now I might not make funny for a living, but I'm pretty sure that this is not it.
Celebrating three miles of paint-wanting pavement is what I call delusional.
With about 60 miles of freeway scheduled for completion by 2007, we have another 20 asphalt loving holidays to look forward to in the near future.
If you insist on being among those in the crowd, do us all a favor:
Bring some paint.
Josh Deahl is a political science and philosophy senior. Reach him at joshua.deahl@asu.edu.
