End of the Road
I don’t know what it is about Route 66 that fascinates me as I find myself looking at the pictures again. I’ve always been intrigued by Route 66 and all the little, now abandoned, towns that dot along that stretch of road from California to Illinois, but after my daughter and I made the trip from Washington State to Texas, perhaps I can relate a bit more. It was just she and I, traveling alone, with the cats, the fish, and some of our belongings, driving an unfamiliar route, leaving behind everything we knew to move someplace we didn’t exactly wish to live.
Maybe it was that way for those who traveled this road too. The uncertainty of such a long travel. Where are we going? What will happen when we get there? Will we make it there safely? It was just as I felt as I drove alone down I-5, I-10, and I-35, excited to see my husband again, but scared to leave behind my friends and family and the state where I called home for my entire life.
I look at these pictures of Route 66 and think of those who traveled upon it. Who were they? Where did they come from? Where were they going? Why were they going? And did they make it? The Depression probably saw many of the travelers going from one small town to a large city to look for work, leaving behind everything like my daughter and I did. Maybe there was another young mother making the journey halfway across the country with just her children, traveling to new beginnings. Others traveled for leisure.
Whatever their reason, I bet this road has seen every human emotion in existence.
If it could talk, could you imagine the stories it would share?