“It spans the heart of America, symbolizing mobility, freedom, and the pursuit of the American Dream.”
- U.S. National Park Service
“From rustic diners, to neon-lit motels Route #66 embraces a slice of Americana.”
- Unknown
This last Sunday, the Chicago Tribune ran a piece on Route #66 that was written and photographed by two Tribune staff members who were assigned the task of traveling the 2,448-mile highway that starts in downtown Chicago and ends at the Santa Monica Pier in California. Their task was to capture and record both visually and in writing, the sights and people who are a part of the Route #66 legacy. While Route #66 has been “decommissioned,” and “officially” no longer exists, the two Tribune staff members provided us with a bit of nostalgia as they traversed what was once called the “Main Street of America.”
I found their piece interesting and one that provided me with an opportunity to reflect on my own family’s experience with Route #66. As a family, we infrequently took vacations; the farthest we ever ventured was to the Wisconsin Dells, and even those trips were far and few between. In 1966, that all changed; my father decided we were going to take an extended family vacation by traveling across the country to visit our former neighbors in California. My father had recently purchased a “new” used Mercury, and was anxious to take it out on an extended trip, and California became our destination.
At age sixteen, this was my first real vacation with my family, and while we were all excited about this trip, we had no experience traveling so far from home. Of course, the main route for our trip, as it was for so many in 1966, was Route #66 or the “Mother Road.” My mother acted as map reader, no GPS in those days, and Route #66 served us well as we journeyed westward. Except for one portion that had already been turned into a state highway, we followed Route #66 though Illinois, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico and Arizona prior to arriving in Los Angeles. During our trip we drove though such places as Amarillo Texas, Tucumcari and Gallup New Mexico, and Needles California, among so many other stops, with each one adding to our sense of wonder and discovery. Having never ventured far from Illinois, you might guess that as a sixteen-year old, I saw sights that I had only read about, and knew I might not ever see again in my lifetime.
It was, and has always been one of my fondest memories I have of being with my mom, my dad and my two sisters. When I read the Tribune article, and viewed the pictures that accompanied it, our 1966 family vacation came back to me in vivid detail, giving me a chance to reflect on this wonderful time together as a family. Route #66 was more than a road, it was a backdrop for a moment in time that shaped my perspective and brought my family closer together.
I never went with my family on another trip until after I was married and had my own family. By then we traveled by plane, and Route #66 was but a distant memory. Two years after this trip I was off to college, and after graduation Cathy and I were married and beginning our life together.
For me, Route #66 provided my family with the experience of being together and exploring our country, an experience none of us ever had or would have together in the future. Now, my mother, father and my older sister are gone, and only exist in my memory and in my heart, memories that remind me of the wonderful life we enjoyed as a family. Route #66 was an experience for us as we traveled across the United States, and on its 100th anniversary, many others, like me will recount how they traveled on the Mother Road during their early life.
Memories such as these are precious, and will always stay close to our hearts.