It’s a quiet night. The corner of Willard and James is ominously dark. The traffic lights that we demanded have finally been approved by the city, and are set to go up tomorrow. As soon as people saw what happened to you, they rose up like a tsunami. I had eight hundred and fourty seven signatures within a day of your wake. I only needed five hundred. The city, of course, responds much slower, so it’s taken another year for it to actually get put into effect. The whole ordeal has brought the town together. People are friends again. Neighborhood parties. Just like it used to be. I just wish you were here to see it, brother.