The Magic and Memories of Route 66

       We first began our family road trips along Route 66 in the summer of 1958. We’d pile into our car at about 4:00 in the afternoon surrounded by blankets and pillows. First we’d drive through the Angeles Forest, past Lancaster and on to Victorville. By the time we reached Barstow, it was getting dark. That’s when the peace broke and the family vacation began to be tested.. When do we eat? Steve’s teasing us! Are we there yet? I gotta go to the bathroom. These first complaints were answered with polite, yet increasingly frustrated responses. As the trip continued, all of us kids were rotated throughout the car to avoid more serious complaints and bad behavior, but hair pulling, name calling, teasing, biting, kicking, and crying were increasingly answered with a backhand, and my mother could effectively reach each of us, no matter where we were seated. By the time we reached, Needles, California, bad behavior was replaced by sleep, and our mother was able to rest her left arm.
It was while driving through Arizona at night the was magic to me. The red highway, a steep winding road through Seligman, then on to Williams, and Holbrook. But my favorite part of the trip was at dawn, as we dropped down from the Chuskas into Gallup, New Mexico. The sight of sandstone cliffs and ancient basalt outcroppings felt like an invitation, and something from my past reached into conscientiousness. It felt as if I were home.
       I am planning a Route 66 adventure this summer through Missouri, a little of Kansas and Oklahoma. I will photograph points of interest and refine my writing voice as I go. Maybe I can visit my friend,John (Garvald Murray) Turbayne in Oklahoma City as well.