Hoboken Night Macrina Justice Gaither

I have experienced two nights that I would consider the best of my life. One, which I like to call Green Light Night, involved a rained out marching band competition, belting “The Ants Go Marching” while dancing through the pouring rain, listening to peaceful music while huddled with my soaked friends in an instrument trailer lit by a green water bottle over a flashlight, and experiencing the rawest type of tranquility that I think is possible to experience. The second, “Hoboken Night,” is one that was not only filled with joy but also jump-started my life into its next chapter.

It was the winter of 2018 and I was in New Jersey visiting a good friend, Katie, whom I had met at summer camp years before. After a long day of exploration, we impulsively decided to meet up with another camp friend, Montana, in her hometown of Hoboken. The night was chilly but immediately sparkled with a warm energy. It was a strange feeling, one that’s hard to describe, one that I hadn’t felt before, one that I haven’t quite felt since. It meant something different to all three of us, but we all felt that energy. Something there, pushing us to do. Pushing us to live. Being from a small rural-suburban part of central Pennsylvania, I wasn’t at all used...