Generations were uprooted in the name of speed and convenience.

Roads are often framed as signs of progress—connections between cities, lifelines for trade, access to opportunity. But for countless communities, they were the beginning of the end. Highways didn’t just slice through empty land. They cut through neighborhoods, forests, sacred sites, and migration paths. The people and animals in their way were often treated as afterthoughts—moved, erased, or simply forced to adapt. And once the concrete was poured, there was no undoing the damage.
What’s left is a legacy of broken ecosystems and displaced histories. Wildlife corridors vanished. Families were evicted with little warning. Entire cultures were divided by traffic noise and off-ramps. These aren’t growing pains—they’re open wounds that still shape how people and animals move through the world today. The road may be smooth, but the cost was jagged. And we’re still living with what was lost in the rush to move faster.








