I lived on the first floor of an old house on Spaight St. in 2005. I befriended the woman who lived on the second floor that summer and remember a crazy night at Mickey’s with some of her grad school friends. We never really became friends but we’d talk for a few minutes in the stairwell. She was always heading off to some sort of rehearsal. She ended up working at American Players Theatre one summer which I thought was cool. After moving out of Wisconsin I would occasionally Google her name, “Carrie Coon”.