To the editor,

We say it when words fall short — you just had to be there. It’s how we acknowledge that no recounting, no matter how vivid, can fully capture the electricity of a moment lived in person.

On Friday morning, as the Arizona State Transportation Board prepared to determine the fate of a long, uphill battle to earn State Route 347 a place on ADOT’s coveted five-year plan, I felt the truth of that phrase like never before. I wish every resident of Maricopa could have been there to witness what I did. It was civic advocacy at its highest order. It was civil discourse at its finest. And more than that — it was an uplifting, deeply human experience I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Let me tell you what I saw.

When a group of Maricopa lawmakers, city leaders and citizen advocates set out for Payson, the mood was something close to battle-ready. We had the data. We had the designs. We had the resolve. And we believed that in order to secure a future for the 347, another project might have to be sacrificed.

The atmosphere was tense, underscored by the poignant words of ADOT Board Member Jenny Howard:

“I feel like we are the mothers of six kids, and we open the refrigerator door and there’s one piece of bread left. And we have to decide which child is going to get that piece of bread and which other five children are going to go hungry.”

With that sobering backdrop, what unfolded was something none of us expected.

The moment we entered the small, crowded meeting room, a towering man approached our mayor. Though I couldn’t hear everything, the tone was unmistakable — accusatory, emotional, defensive. “Why are you here to steal our money?” he demanded.

In that moment, face to chest with this imposing figure, Mayor Nancy Smith stood with remarkable grace. There was no hostility in her tone. No defensiveness. No condescension. Just calm, composed leadership. She listened. She validated. She explained. She deescalated. The room took notice.

The man quietly found a seat — unknowingly next to another towering figure, former Mayor Christian Price. And as if choreographed by something larger than us, Christian picked up the baton seamlessly from Nancy, engaging him with empathy, humor and shared humanity.

And then, something started to shift.

Over the next several hours, the board heard from dozens of Maricopa voices — each one a thread in the fabric of our community. But there was one group whose testimony left an indelible mark: the students from the Be Awesome Youth Coalition. Brought together through the tireless efforts of Maricopa champions Priscilla Behnke and Brandi Homan, these teenagers didn’t bring charts or spreadsheets. They brought lived truth. They spoke of daily danger, lost time, and the anxiety of crossing a highway that feels more like a gauntlet than a road. They spoke plainly, poignantly, powerfully—and the entire room felt it.

Chair Jenn Daniels herself paused more than once to commend their poise, even joking that Maricopa’s city council members might want to start updating their résumés.

By the time that impassioned representative for the competing project stood to speak, something extraordinary happened. His unbridled emotion was controlled. He didn’t attack. He didn’t refute. He praised. He acknowledged the passion of 347 supporters and spoke his own truth — with honesty and grace.

In that room, two seemingly competing communities found not a rival — but a reflection. The residents advocating for the Lion Springs project were motivated by the same fears and frustrations we know all too well: fatal accidents, broken promises and the slow erosion of hope. We were looking in the mirror.

Empathy — true empathy — took root. Not sympathy, which feels for another from a distance, but empathy, which understands through shared experience.

And then came the decision. In a moment that felt nearly miraculous, the board approved both projects for inclusion in the five-year plan.

We came expecting a battle. What we found was something better: common ground.
We came to widen a road — and left having widened our hearts.

I wish every person in Maricopa could have felt what we felt in that room. Yes, there’s still a long road ahead — literally and figuratively. There will be setbacks. Delays. Doubts. But I am equally certain that we will persevere. Because Maricopa doesn’t quit.

And even if the board hadn’t voted our way, we still would have walked away with something lasting: the reminder that advocacy matters. That presence matters. That showing up, standing tall and speaking with integrity makes a difference.

That is the power of belief. That is the power of involvement. That is the power of us.

That is the power of Maricopa.

Sincerely,

Quinn Konold, Maricopa resident, Communications and Community Enrichment Director for the City of Maricopa