A Roadside Parable


Once, deep in the heart of North Carolina, there was an expansive fenced field. It was odd for three reasons - 1) it was triangle-shaped; 2) it was full of cows; and 3) it grew only cannibis. The cows feasted readily on the crop, and there was never a shortage of volunteers to sit up late on cold nights around the field fires to keep the crop from freezing.


Well, as it turns out, the crop was very popular, too popular to waste on feeding cows. Therefore, in the interests of increasing business and decreasing the bovine demands upon the crop, it was decided that the cows should be set free to roam the countryside and that roads should be established to enable merchants to move the harvested crop readily, near and far, to the highest bidder.


The leader of the community, one Jebediah, devised a plan to complete these two plans with one action. He called forth the members of the community and addressed them.


"My Brethren," he intoned, "as you know, we are going to rid ourselves of the cattle and also build roads to increase our trade. We can do both at once. We shall remove the fences containing the cattle and follow them, thus creating our road system. We shall then name the roads after leading members of the community."


And the plan was met with great acceptance, until a small man, named Euclidiah, raised his concerns.


"But Brethren, should we not build our roads in straight lines, in a grid, and give them easy to remember identification in addition to compass headings to inform those new to our community where they may be at any given time?"


A dark cloud of discontent settled over the throng. Then the second best-known citizen, Hezekiah, responded to Euclidiah's claim.


"Let he who is without a sense of direction cast the first stone."


Euclidiah was buried under a ton of stones.


And this is how the community of Raleigh-Durham came to pass.