Earlier this year I was sitting at my neighbor's table while she made fried pies. We're both from Arkansas and although almost 60 years separate us, chatter can pass between us like we graduated high school together. We both moved to the neighborhood in 2009. I asked her that day what brought her to Jefferson City. "To die," she answered with a small wry smile. I came here to grow up, I told her. But I've thought a lot about that moment that brought two drastically different lives to intersect over moving to Stonebridge in 2009 and a desire to eat fried pies.