Like most small towns, Frankfort has its quirks, and if you don’t speak the native tongue it can take a while to find your way around town.
I’m not just talking about the labyrinth-like one-way streets that confusingly crisscross downtown and make navigation more difficult than it needs to be. No, it’s the little things like Spaghetti Junction — an intersection named after an Italian dish — that throw folks for a loop.
On occasion, I like to toss in the term — a nickname for the East Main Street-Versailles Road juncture — when giving directions to out-of-towners simply for the pleasure of witnessing their blank stares and open-mouth reactions.
Local lingo can also be troubling for those looking for the Salato Wildlife Education Center, which is lovingly known in these parts as “The Game Farm” — although you won’t find that on any signage.
Spaghetti Junction and The Game Farm aren’t the only oddities around town.
Frankfort is also the proud owner of the Singing Bridge, which as any native will tell you, takes an excursion across the structure to understand how it got its name. While some claim the bridge’s vibration makes more of a hum than a song, I think we can all agree that the Humming Bridge just doesn’t roll off of the tongue in quite the same way.
Another local anomaly is that we have two Capitol buildings.
The Old Capitol lawn, which bears a plaque and statue of William Goebel — a man who was only in the governor’s office for four days before succumbing to an assassin’s bullet — is frequented and played upon by visitors and concert-goers.
Then there is the Capitol, which was actually completed 110 years ago but is still referred to as “new,” with its plush grounds that no one dares to trample.
Yet, when it comes to places to run free, Frankfort is proud to be home to nine lush parks. However, three of them contain “view” — Capitol View, Lakeview and River View. For newcomers who don’t know the word before “view,” it could take three attempts to find the right recreation area.
It is often said that on the journey of life, it’s OK to stop and ask for directions. Just maybe not from a native who may have you driving through Italian cuisine.
Chanda Veno is managing editor of The State Journal. Her email address is email@example.com.