: Where Broadway, Division, and 21st Avenue South converge, in front of
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Approximate Age of Patrons
Topics of Conversation
: Not applicable. I refrained from talking to myself.
Stray Dogs Seen
Types of Vehicles in Parking Lots
: Not applicable. No parking lots associated with the park.
: High. There is literally no place where someone could hide here. The only danger is traffic.
Number of Gunshots Heard
Number of pitbulls sighted
: None (my dog was disinvited from joining me at the park after our fight).
: Reasonable. The path is at street level.
Incorporation of Local History
: Anyone who likes to wonder about strange things or people who like to say they've been to the park, but don't really like to exercise or go to actual parks.
I took for granted that Broadway Park was an actual park, since it has a sign that declares it so. But it's not listed on Metro's park list
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This brings up a lot of questions. Did Metro Parks forget about Broadway Park? Did it used to be a park but they decommissioned it? Is it a rogue park--a piece of grass that decided "To hell with just being a traffic median! Today I am a park! Get me a sign!"? Is there a possibility of any patch of grass just deciding it's a park? Should I keep a closer eye on my front lawn, to prevent it from getting ideas? If Metro didn't put up the sign, who did? Is it a private park? If so, are we trespassing when we walk over it to get to Ken's?
And what's with the weird slab? Is it the base of some long-stolen sculpture? Is it where early Vanderbilt students conducted ritual human sacrifice? Is it the top of a grave?
I don't know the answers to any of these questions.
But as far as parks go, it's like a lovely little snack-sized park, a nice, welcome patch of nature in a knot of traffic. There's no reason to search it out, if you're not already going to that part of town, but if you are that way, there's no reason to not take a look at it.