Scads of photographs accompanied Mrs. G. and I on our return from our Lincoln Highway trip. Showing them to her husband, Mr. G’s comment was that the pictures were all of signs. It’s true, old neon and painted signs hanging in the towns we passed through were unique to the town, referencing local commerce or past signs of life over abandoned storefronts. They were a little bit of hello to the two strangers from New York passing through their midst.