The Dawson’s had been trying to have a child for the past three years, but it just wasn’t working. “We went to our doctor,” Mary said, “and he told us we were going to have to look at other options. He suggested possible sperm donation, or adopting a child, but none of these were for us.”

Timothy Dawson was insistent that, “we do it right,” and he wanted their parenting experience to be all it should be.

I asked the Dawson’s, as an inquisitive reporter, the obvious question: What led you to adopt a highway?
“Well, Flagstaff,” Mary said as she became starry-eyed, “it was more of a split second decision. Timmy and I were driving down I-77 and we saw the adopt-a-highway sign and we knew. It’s one of those intuitive things that’s too hard to explain.”

“I think we picked him because he was so cute,” Tim Dawson said. “He has these nice curves and beautiful forests surrounding him. I’m not saying he’s not rough around the edges (aren’t we all),” he chuckled, “I mean there’s the industrial plant here and there, but on the whole he is just a wonderful thing.”

The Dawson’s have been very influential in the upbringing of their highway. They have been to private traffic school on many occasions to make sure that they give only the best to their adopted-son, who they call Ronny.

“We try to be with him every day. We really stress the importance of hygiene and cleanliness, but for some reason he always seems to have garbage and bottles all over his room,” Mary said. “Kids these days.”

The adoption papers are still underway, but the Dawson’s are very happy with their adopted highway. “So far, it’s really all we hoped it would be, and so much more,” said Mary. “I couldn’t have asked for a better part of I-77.”

I was right in th middl of Chapt r Tw nty Two, which happ n d to b about th ann xation of…oh, this is all to hard to say, now that my b lov d k y is brok n. And th trag dy is, th k y was on of my favorit k ys. I dar say I us d him as much, if not mor , than any of my oth r k yboard fri nds. H h ld his d ar old plac on that QW RTY board for y ars and y ars, but l ft m wh n th mom nt was rip .

It is hard to d scrib how it cam to b that my k y w nt away. His button is th r , but now it r sts lik a coffin, b caus wh n I pr ss, h no long r r sponds. It is a sad tim .