The spell-filled road took me by surprise, appearing as if from nowhere. It was a narrow path, barely visible through the thick mist that surrounded it. Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to take a chance and follow it. As I walked down the road, I felt a strange energy in the air. It was as if the very atmosphere was enchanted, swirling with magic and mystery. The trees that lined the path seemed to whisper secrets, their leaves rustling in a language I couldn't quite understand.
To provide and maintain a Navy;
If the curriculum requires a Flash Word to be taught before the vowel pattern has been introduced, teachers can refer to Table 2B to find words that can be grouped together. Instead of teaching he in isolation as a word to be memorized, we teach he, be, we, me, and she together as shown in the CV column in Table 2b and point out that the letter e spells the long e sound.
The trees that lined the path seemed to whisper secrets, their leaves rustling in a language I couldn't quite understand. Deeper into the forest I went, with each step bringing me closer to the unknown. I could hear faint melodies in the distance, hauntingly beautiful and impossible to place.
Could a federal windfall spell the end for Baltimore’s Highway to Nowhere? City leaders hope so.
After razing homes and uprooting hundreds of residents more than a half-century ago, West Baltimore’s 1.4-mile ditch known as the “Highway to Nowhere” could — finally — be nearing its end.
Baltimore leaders have long recognized the damage the short stretch of U.S. 40 has dealt to the predominantly Black, low-income communities it splits apart. But a push to remove disruptive highways is finding new energy on the national stage, thanks in large part to federal funding meant to atone for the harm these roads have caused.
Repurposing the infamous Highway to Nowhere took an important step forward last week when Baltimore landed a $2 million federal grant to help study the proposal, which is backed by Mayor Brandon Scott and members of the Maryland congressional delegation.
That may be small change in the grand scheme of an expensive infrastructure project, Baltimore Department of Transportation Deputy Director Theo Ngongang said, but the study could open doors for the city to tap much larger pools of federal money earmarked for this kind of work. That money, combined with the recent alignment of priorities in Washington, Annapolis and City Hall, has created what feels like “a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to really right the wrongs of the past,” Ngongang said.
“This is almost like a new day for Baltimore,” he added.
Once Baltimore has completed an initial $3.2 million planning study, which is funded by the federal grant and a mix of city, state and Baltimore Development Corporation input, it may apply for grants out of an up to $1 billion pool established under President Joe Biden’s Bipartisan Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act aimed at bridging divides created by developments like the Highway to Nowhere. On top of that $1 billion, which would be doled out over five years, last year’s Inflation Reduction Act is funding a similar, multibillion-dollar program. And Maryland is expected to receive more than $4 billion over five years in infrastructure bill funding for roads and bridges — money that could go towards highway removal if Baltimore is able to draw any of it.
West Baltimore’s Highway to Nowhere is a remnant of America’s highway-building era, in which cities around the country sought to connect suburbs with declining downtowns by building multilane freeways, often at the expense of predominantly Black neighborhoods in their way. In Baltimore, an attempt to connect Interstate 70 to interstates 83 and 95 by building a crosstown expressway resulted in a six-lane trench through the western part of town. The project displaced some 1,500 people and demolished hundreds of homes and dozens of businesses.
But the connection to the other interstates was never completed, and today the disconnected stretch of U.S. 40 divides neighborhoods while shuttling local traffic between Martin Luther King Boulevard and West Baltimore’s MARC train station.
Ngongang said it’s too soon to say how much a project to transform the Highway to Nowhere would cost, and he stressed that the city is in the early stages of meeting with community members to hear what they would like to see happen.
The city held its first listening session earlier this month, and Ngongang said a primary takeaway was the message that many near U.S. 40 don’t trust the city, in part because of its involvement in construction of the highway in the first place. Some residents have expressed concern that the city will simply build another highway or redevelop the area in a way that brings in white newcomers while further displacing Black residents who remain.
What exactly the city intends to do once the highway is removed is an open question, Ngongang said. His agency is focused on ways to expand public transit infrastructure, including through a possible marriage between Highway to Nowhere removal and a resurrected Red Line, an east-west rail project that former Gov. Larry Hogan killed during his first term. But the status of the Red Line under Gov. Wes Moore’s Democratic administration remains unclear, and Ngongang said the city will prioritize what the community wants.
Though the infrastructure bill has put historic funding into reconnecting communities divided by transportation infrastructure, it’s far less than advocates and the Biden administration had once hoped: An earlier version of the package included $20 billion for the program, but that allocation was whittled down to $1 billion by the time the bill passed Congress.
Still, advocates argue these projects are relatively cheap when compared to the wide-ranging, long-lasting benefits they deliver.
“$2 million is not a lot, but it is enough to actually determine that it’s a good idea,” Rob Steuteville of Congress for the New Urbanism said of Baltimore’s federal grant.
Steuteville, whose organization was advocating for highway removal projects long before the recent federal commitments, said cities haven’t tended to look seriously at taking out disruptive interstates in the past. But growing appreciation for the damage these roads have caused — as well as the federal funding to investigate the scope of the problem — is creating national momentum around highway removal, he said.
And Ben Crowther, advocacy manager with the organization America Walks, likened Baltimore’s Highway to Nowhere to a recent project in Rochester, New York, where the city removed a two-thirds of a mile section of the sunken highway known as the Inner Loop for just $25 million. The payoff has been quick: In just a six years since removing the east portion of the loop, Rochester says it has reclaimed six acres of land and built 500 units of new housing, while the U.S. Federal Highway Administration reports the project has spurred close to $230 million in economic development.
Building and maintaining highway infrastructure turns out to be highly expensive, Crowther explained, and many of America’s freeways have surpassed their 50-year lifespan. So when cities decide to remove a highway rather than invest in its upkeep, they take a liability off the books, he said.
Both Baltimore’s $2 million grant and the hundreds of millions available for these removal projects come from the Reconnecting Communities program, a provision of Biden’s Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act that was first written and proposed as separate legislation by Maryland Sen. Chris Van Hollen.
The Reconnecting Communities program “offers a golden opportunity to rectify the harm caused by the Highway to Nowhere,” Van Hollen wrote last year in an op-ed in The Banner, calling the funds a chance to plan transformation of West Baltimore’s “concrete scar” into “a site of healing and growth.”
“Scores of Baltimoreans have offered suggestions about what to do with the highway. This is our shot to deliver on the ambition of those dreams,” the second-term Democrat wrote.
But the surging interest in highway removal could also pose a challenge for Baltimore’s vision.
Assuming highway removal projects cost between $20 million and $50 million — and some will come with a heftier price tag — Crowther noted the infrastructure law should allow for only handful of projects a year. Baltimore will likely compete for grants with cities around the country, leaving “potential for a bit of a logjam,” Crowther said. And Baltimore’s project could cost more if it involves building a transit line.
For Ngongang, limited federal funds aren’t much of a concern at this stage. The city secured money for its key first step — an indication, he said, that money could keep flowing to Baltimore.
“We won right?” he said. “So we are in a better position now to say that this is only the beginning.”
Each House shall keep a Journal of its Proceedings, and from time to time publish the same, excepting such Parts as may in their Judgment require Secrecy; and the Yeas and Nays of the Members of either House on any question shall, at the Desire of one fifth of those Present, be entered on the Journal.
It was as if the spell-filled road was leading me to another world altogether, one where anything was possible. The path twisted and turned, revealing glimpses of a hidden underworld. Flowers bloomed in vibrant hues that defied logic, their petals shimmering with an otherworldly glow. Creatures I had only read about in fairy tales darted between the trees, their eyes gleaming with mischief. But it wasn't just the sights and sounds that captivated me; it was the feeling of being truly alive. Every step I took on the spell-filled road filled me with a sense of wonder and adventure. I felt as if I was a part of something much bigger than myself, connected to a world beyond our own. As night fell, the spell-filled road became even more enchanting. Fireflies danced through the air, creating a soft glow that illuminated the path ahead. Stars twinkled overhead, their light casting a magical glow on everything around me. I couldn't help but wonder who had created this spell-filled road and what its purpose was. Was it a portal to another realm, or simply a reminder of the magic that exists in our own world? Whatever the answer, I knew that I was experiencing something truly special. As I reached the end of the road, the enchantment slowly faded away. The mist cleared, revealing the familiar world I had left behind. But the spell-filled road had left its mark on me. It had reminded me to keep seeking adventure and to never lose sight of the magic that exists both within and around us. The spell-filled road was a journey of the senses, a reminder that the world is not always as it seems. It showed me that there are hidden treasures waiting to be discovered, if only we have the courage to step off the beaten path and embrace the unknown. It was a reminder to never stop exploring, to never stop seeking the spell-filled roads that make life truly magical..
Reviews for "The Allure of the Spell-Filled Road: Why We Love Fantasy Literature"
1. John - 2 stars - I found "The spell filled road" to be quite disappointing. The storyline was confusing and lacked depth, and I struggled to connect with the characters. The magic system was also poorly explained, leaving me feeling lost throughout the book. Overall, it just didn't captivate me like I had hoped it would.
2. Emily - 2.5 stars - I had high expectations for "The spell filled road", but unfortunately, it fell short for me. The pacing was inconsistent, with some parts dragging on while others felt rushed. The dialogue also felt forced and unnatural, making it difficult for me to become immersed in the story. Additionally, the ending felt abrupt and unsatisfying, leaving me with more questions than answers.
3. Sarah - 3 stars - I was excited to dive into "The spell filled road" based on the promising synopsis, but ultimately, it didn't live up to my expectations. While the world-building was intriguing, the plot lacked originality and felt predictable. The character development was also lacking, making it hard for me to root for any of the protagonists. Although it wasn't terrible, it didn't offer anything particularly memorable or unique either.
4. Michael - 2 stars - "The spell filled road" was a letdown. The writing style didn't engage me, and I found myself skim-reading through several passages. The pacing was off, and the events felt disconnected and disjointed. The lack of clear explanations left me feeling confused about the magical elements and the overall purpose of the story. It failed to leave a lasting impression and ultimately left me disappointed.
5. Jessica - 2.5 stars - While "The spell filled road" had potential, it ultimately failed to deliver. The plot meandered without a clear direction, and the narrative structure was convoluted. The characters lacked depth and often made unrealistic choices. Additionally, the dialogues felt stilted and forced, making it hard for me to become invested in their story. Overall, it was a lackluster reading experience that didn't leave me wanting more.