Probably not.

Interstate 95 runs parallel with U.S. Highway 301 now and takes the traffic. And Pat Benfield got the letter so long ago.

She found it cleaning out a drawer, and read it again. Read it and thought those signs her friend saw when he was buzzing down U.S. 301 and hit the N.C. boundary are still worth sharing. The first said:

Welcome to the Tar Heel state
Where the weak grow strong
And the strong grow great.
These helpful signs will guide your way,
So take your time. enjoy your stay.

Thereafter, at blind hills, crossroads and other appropriate spots came more signs:

From one friend to another
Slow down, brother!

Driving speed, 55; Social Security, 65.

Heavy foot, light head, bad curve, stone dead

If you must kill yourself, get off the highway.

Don’t be impatient. It’s a short hill.

By now, she wrote, her friend was fascinated. He kept looking for signs, and he wasn’t disappointed. When he was sure that he had seen the last one, another would pop up.

Are you driving yourself to death?

Centerline is your lifeline.

A minute you spare will get you there.

Are you tail-gating?

If you’re in a hurry, it’s later than you think.

Our kids we need. check your speed.

Take your time. The judge can wait.

Careful with a carful.

Highways and graveyards are both crowded.

Finally he got to the South Carolina border and a final caution:

You’re leaving us? We want to say,
Please come again another day,
Remember our slogans at any rate,
They’ll keep you safe in any state.

By then he was so taken with North Carolina signs that he was driving more carefully than ever before.

I had finished reading but was hooked. I wanted more. But 301 is too far away and 1953 is long gone. But she wasn’t finished yet. As I folded Pat’s letter to put it back in its envelope — a keeper, I thought — I found the last word on back flap: