Thank you for your diary excerpt, Lowell!

My only family story is brief, and told from my parents' point of view - at 5, I wasn't a great observer. We visited my dad's aunt in Windsor on Sunday, July 23rd. We came back over the bridge after dark, and noticed quite a few police cars, but didn't think much of it. My dad decided to take the newly-opened section of I-75 south to Monroe, rather than taking his normal surface streets [[Fort or Jefferson, I guess). It was only after getting home that they realized what was going on. My dad always felt that it was some sort of divine guidance that had us taking the freeway instead of surface streets. In reality, it sounds like things were generally quiet south of the bridge, and we'd have been fine.