The Eisenhower Interstate System

We see them all the time - American Flag-blue signs with a circle of five white stars and the words "Eisenhower Interstate System." Most states have at least some of them posted along the highways, and a number of states are fairly littered with them. It began in 1956 as part concession to the rapidly expanding American automobile industry, and part to fulfill some campaign promises to create a lot of new jobs. Today, the system is nearly 50,000 miles long and is still the largest Public Works project in history. As a kid growing up in Detroit in the 50s and 60s, and today as a truck driver, the system is a lifeline, a money-maker, a means to an end. It is an enormous part of the post-WWII American Dream, and lies at the very foundation of America's continuing love affair with the automobile.

Then, on the other hand, there is Allandale, South Carolina, Kokomo, Indiana, Newark, Ohio, or any one of a hundred little stops along Route 66, that owe their fate, in large part to the highway system built in the name of national defense and motion. Now these towns, because of the fact the Interstates go elsewhere, struggle with an identity, struggle to keep their industry and tax base intact, and wonder when the last old fashioned Dairy Queen will finally close. At one time Route 66 was the main east-west link between Chicago and Los Angeles, and fertile ground for creative entrepreneurs catering to the American motoring public. The first hot dog stands, the first Putt-Putt courses, and any number of bizarre one-of-a-kind tourist attractions all came to life along Route 66, and today they simply gather dust as they fade into obscurity. Holiday Inn started along the famed Route, and was one of the few organizations to realize the future was elsewhere.

My favorite sad small town story is Allendale, South Carolina. During the time between the American Civil War and the coming of the Interstate System, Allendale sat on an active commerce route (State 301) roughly in the middle of a rectangle made up of Columbia and Charleston, SC on the north and east, and Augusta and Savannah, GA on the west and south. Today is has roughly 20% of the population in had just 60-70 years ago.

We drove through Allendale in March as Spring was beginning to touch the South. The area is beautiful, with a number of small rivers flowing through it, and the remnants of old plantations and farms still scattered around the area. For a mile or two, the road tracked along side a classic old, and quite unused, railroad bed complete with decaying wood timber trestles and crossing signs. In the city itself we saw things such as an old Gulf Oil station with the orange and blue ball atop a post at the corner. It had become the Allandale dry Cleaning Service. We counted at least 12 motels which, we were guessing, were built shortly after WWII, that were no longer in use. I don't think Allendale has a hardware store anymore. The few motels that were being used were Days Inns, Knights Inns, or some other of the smaller, lesser known chains. Dead and decaying were the local mom and pop motels, the small, unique places which featured attached Bar and Grills, and all night restaurants - with, I might add, ample truck parking.

Don't get me wrong, I am certainly not against change and progress (which are often, but not always the same things). My life these days seems to change almost daily, if not hourly. But, I can't help it when I drive through these once-proud towns, towns with defunct businesses and homes, and little league diamonds that were one time somebody's dream, thinking about what they must have been like in 1961, or 1938 or 1955. At some time or another all of these places were really happenin places to be. Now they are simply places to turn around when you get lost.

Now, everything is ruled by chains, chains who have all staked out the prime ground around exits off the Interstate. Food, lodging, shopping - they are all now McDonald's, Holiday Inn Express or Wal-Mart, or something very much like them. The same holds true for truck stops - Pilots, Petros, Travel America, Flying J, Hess-Wilco, etc. Sometimes when we are lucky, we stumble across an independent truck stop in Malta, Idaho, or Rawlins, Wyoming, or Rochester, Indiana, that hasn't thrown in the towel - places that still have unpaved parking lots, diners with waitresses named Flo or Janice, and maybe a two-day old food stain on the menu. The fuel islands still have air for free, the drinking fountains still work, and hard-boiled eggs are three for a dollar. Those are the best stops we make.