Columns

Several years ago, I spent family time with my three daughters navigating Pittsburgh’s downtown streets, a city between two rivers, with a convoluted grid of traffic patterns. 

I sat in the back seat and watched in amazement as my tech-savvy daughters produced a new electronic gadget, a GPS, equipped with a very friendly, very British-accented voice named Emily, that guided us through the maze of streets.  

(Writer’s note:  This was a story Johnny Hardin gave me years ago that didn’t get published.  I ran across it and thought I’d resubmit it.)

By Louise Yates