Decades ago, I lived in Cumberland Gap, a historic little town split between the Old Dominion and the Volunteer State.
I’ve straddled the Tennessee-Virginia line aplenty.
But last weekend, on State Street in Bristol, the dual-state thing was a bit more literal.
I stood — and even strode — with one foot in Tennessee and the other in Virginia.
For blocks, the street through the well-preserved downtown has bronze markers embedded in the center to make sure you know which side is whose.