The Goodbye Line project
There are times when we want to say goodbye to a person, a concept, a city, an inner child, or even just an idea, but, for whatever reason, that opportunity has passed. Maybe the recipient is unavailable and what's left is a void that leaves our well-wishes with no real place to land.
Documentary filmmaker Adam Trunell and his partner Alexis Wood wanted to help fill that void by not only giving a creative outlet to help people bid adieu, but to create a sense of community by sharing it with people online. We all experience loss, heartbreak, grief—and this seemed like a way to strip down to our most vulnerable memories, perhaps the ones that got snagged somewhere, in order to process them so that we can let them go.
One of the reels on The Goodbye Line TikTok page (@thegoodbyeline) simply states: "The void calls. We answer." And that's exactly how it works. From any payphone (or cell phone, if one wishes), a person can call a toll-free number. A recording answers to welcome them to "The Goodbye Line," explaining, "This payphone, like us, is here now but won't be forever." From there, one is encouraged to leave a goodbye, fleeting thought, or poem—whatever they need to get off their hearts. If they want to opt out of having their stories shared on social media, they just have to say so in the call.
@thegoodbyeline The void calls. We answer.
Upworthy spoke with Adam and Alexis about how this unique art/social project sparked. Adam shares, "It came out of a rainy day conversation about loss and community, and we sort of walked backwards into an idea. We designed a sticker, put it up on some of the remaining payphones around LA, and couldn’t say whether we’d get a single call. They come in now all day, every day, and run the full spectrum of goodbyes. There’s no single type of goodbye, but every message is an attempt to pin something down before it disappears completely. And a reminder that loss, in all its forms, connects us."
The line doesn't speak back, he tells us. "The line just listens. It doesn’t judge, doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to make things OK. It just takes what you give it, without question, and holds it. And sometimes that’s enough.”
What's even more impactful is the community of people who listen to these goodbyes. "The fact people show up and listen, and follow, and comment and share, tells us that grief isn’t just about loss. It’s about connection. And mourning isn’t just something we do in private — it’s also deeply communal. So that even if we aren’t the ones speaking, we can hear ourselves in other people's messages.”
Alexis adds that because there are so many different versions of "loss," the calls range in tone. "A lot of the calls are about losing someone who’s passed, but there are just as many about losing relationships or friendships with people who are still alive. And honestly, I don’t think we talk about that kind of loss enough.”
She explains how the payphones themselves have become a character in the art piece. "There’s something raw and immediate about stumbling on a payphone out in the world—it catches people off guard, and that moment feels different than someone who finds us through Instagram and comes in with a bit more context. What’s even more fascinating is how each payphone seems to absorb the energy of its neighborhood. They take on their own personalities—what gets said, who picks up the phone—it all shifts depending on where they are. The calls start to reflect the place, and that’s been one of the most powerful parts of this whole thing.”
The Goodbye Line Payphone project Photo credited to Adam Trunell
Adam acknowledges how complex letting go can be. "There are some things we never get to say, and that doesn’t just disappear. Loss doesn’t have an expiration date. Some goodbyes take years to find a voice. And when they do, for a moment, even saying a name can restore a presence. You hear it in the messages; sometimes people pick up the phone and don’t know what they’re holding onto until they say it out loud.”
"Now your fishes will be warmed."
"To have one’s eyes lined with ham."
"To lay your head in water."
"Repetition teaches the donkey."
"I only understand train station."
"To speak directly from the liver."
"Horse horse, tiger tiger."
Beaver in water. Photo by 
An actual beaver dam on the now-thriving Price River
Medusa image of giant squid in Gulf of Mexico off of Mississippi Gulf CoastPhoto credit: 
Sign warning against feeding alligators next to alligator in Mississippi marshlandsCourtesy of Jacalyn Wetzel
Mississippi Gulf Coast beach in BiloxiCourtesy of Jacalyn Wetzel
2009 photo of giant squid caught in Gulf of Mexico near Mississippi GulfPhoto credit: 
Thank goodness this story has a happy ending.
There's a reason why some people can perfectly copy accents, and others can't
Turns out, there's a neurodivergent link.
A woman in black long sleeve shirt stands in front of mirror.
Have you ever had that friend who goes on vacation for four days to London and comes back with a full-on Queen's English posh accent? "Oooh I left my brolly in the loo," they say, and you respond, "But you're from Colorado!" Well, there are reasons they (and many of us) do that, and usually it's on a pretty subconscious level.
It's called "accent mirroring," and it's actually quite common with people who are neurodivergent, particularly those with ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). According Neurolaunch, the self-described "Free Mental Health Library," "Accent mirroring, also known as accent adaptation or phonetic convergence, is the tendency to unconsciously adopt the accent or speech patterns of those around us. This linguistic chameleon effect is not unique to individuals with ADHD, but it appears to be more pronounced and frequent in this population."
Essentially, when people have conversations, we're constantly "scanning" for information—not just the words we're absorbing, but the inflection and tone. "When we hear an accent, our brains automatically analyze and categorize the phonetic features, prosody, and intonation patterns," writes Neurolaunch. For most, this does result in copying the accent of the person with whom we're speaking. But those with ADHD might be more sensitive to auditory cues. This, "coupled with a reduced ability to filter out or inhibit the impulse to mimic…could potentially explain the increased tendency for accent mirroring."
While the article explains further research is needed, they distinctly state that, "Accent mirroring in individuals with ADHD often manifests as an unconscious mimicry of accents in social situations. This can range from subtle shifts in pronunciation to more noticeable changes in intonation and speech rhythm. For example, a person with ADHD might find themselves unconsciously adopting a Southern drawl when conversing with someone from Texas, even if they’ve never lived in the South themselves."
People are having their say online. On the subreddit r/ADHDWomen, a thread began: "Taking on accents is an ADHD thing?" The OP shares, "My whole life, I've picked up accents. I, myself, never noticed, but everyone around me would be like, 'Why are you talking like that??' It could be after I watched a show or movie with an accent or after I've traveled somewhere with a different accent than my 'normal.'
They continue, "Apparently, I pick it up fast, but it fades out slowly. Today... I'm scrolling Instagram, I watch a reel from a comedian couple (Darcy and Jeremy. IYKYK) about how Darcy (ADHD) picks up accents everywhere they go. It's called ADHD Mirroring??? And it's another way of masking."
(The OP is referring to Darcy Michaels and his husband Jeremy Baer, who are both touring comedians based in Canada.)
Hundreds of people on the Reddit thread alone seem to relate. One comments, "Omfg I've done this my whole life; I'll even pick up on the pauses/spaces when I'm talking to someone who is ESL—but English is my first language lol."
Sometimes, it can be a real issue for those around the chameleon. "I accidentally mimicked a waitress's weird laugh one time. As soon as she was out of earshot, my family started to reprimand me, but I was already like 'oh my god I don’t know why I did that, I feel so bad.'"
Many commenters on TikTok were shocked to find out this can be a sign of ADHD. One jokes, "Omg, yes, at a store the cashier was talking to me and she was French. She's like 'Oh are you French too? No, I'm not lol. I'm very east coast Canada."
And some people just embrace it and make it work for them. "I mirror their words or phrase! I’m 30. I realized I start calling everyone sweetie cause my manager does & I work at coffee shop."