Life at 60, (mph)

.

Before electronics were present to ‘occupy’ the kids in the car – it was what was passing outside that provided travel entertainment – anyone could notice, a few observed – but the opportunity was there for all.

In my traveling experiences as a kid in the 1950’s; ‘crowd control’ from the parents was strict; there were few options.  My sisters and I could only stare at each other (which was not advisable) or try to comprehend what was passing outside the backseat windows.  Our yearly treks from South Florida to Northeast Georgia left plenty of time to stare over the front seat into the impending pavement ahead.

That particular highway played-out over the hood of our Mercury like a ribbon unfurling before us.  The small Georgia roadway split the fields, towns, and tall pines into the next horizon.  That simple scenery remains fresh in my warmest thoughts.  I suppose that I found value in what was passing our windows; for I did begin to notice the homes and stores along the way – there was ‘character’ in the surroundings and it remains to be noticed to this date.  “Little circles.” Features from those early byways lingered into the late 60’s and then as I drove on my own in the 70’s – few, but some resemblances stand today.

In the late 60’s and early 70’s the interstate system was still being completed, the older thoroughfares along these routes were lined with local character, an evolution of sorts.  What I recognized oozed with stories of a once thriving economy created by travelers along those highways.

In later years I drove a truck delivering produce from Florida to New York City on similar highways – I can’t think of a trip that I didn’t continue to notice the same character along the way that I recognized from my earliest travels.

@ Jasper, Fl

As a driver in the early 70’s I was bound to a schedule and to the interstate’s effectiveness in meeting my deadline.  I delivered strawberry’s from Plant City, Fl – 22-hours of straight driving to reach Hunts Point market in New York City.  My pace was too steady to fully appreciate that rich history – yet still I noticed the contribution of those area byways to their particular communities.

Within the early years of my driving the major interstates were incomplete.  It was a constant to leave a completed section of interstate and pass through a ‘local’ stretch of highway.  This was standard travel for the early 1970’s.  I didn’t have an ipad or Garmin, we either knew the road or had a map to glance at and follow the road signs.  My entertainment was watching the trucks gauges, mirrors, and in observation of the world passing my ‘picture window’ (the windshield) before me. Operating the vehicle was certainly better than being in the back seat with my sisters.

As it would happen, a family became attached to my travels – stopping along the by-roads for me to snap a picture was simply too much of an interruption; too stressful (to the wife).  I tried several times, but to stop for that reason and to take a few moments was simply too much trouble for her – ‘getting there‘ once again was the point of our ride – a family destination and I had to understand.

Still, it wasn’t difficult to notice the structures or the businesses on the once busy back roads which had at one time thrived and supported the families of those business, failing.  The revenue that once came through the travelers,  and had so for many years – had shifted.

Al – 1974

The interstate of our country has provided us with expeditious travel and more migration opportunities.  We had altered those small towns, cultures, communities, and their economies – before once again removing traveler revenue.

In the truck, many hours behind that windshield made me a part of that change  – I couldn’t help but to feel sorrow with the inevitable changes taking place.

On the eastern shore Interstate 95 replaced US Highway’s 17, 15, and 301 as major routes – those byways were the cash-flow for the activities which had sustained generations of families.

In the South highway 441 was another more northern route through Georgia which was replaced by Interstate 75; altering the local impact of those visiting the south from Ohio, Michigan, and Wisconsin.  No different than the once great highways route-66 and the Lincoln highway 50 leading Westward to California. We experienced the completion of the interstates and it is now rare for a new generation of travelers to deviate onto the older byways.

Highway 21 up through South Carolina to Charlotte, NC was being replaced with I-77 too.

When in no particular hurry I continue to search the trail of decaying and lost businesses that remain – with a little imagination they are apparent for those interested.

Further evolution with other leading factors continue – there continues to be gas stations, tire stores, restaurants, and local hotels in decline.  There is grass growing in the cracks of those parking lots.  Weeds become trees, vines have replaced the shrubbery; and the only activity present is deterioration.  Relic’s.

I suppose I was touched because the highway has been the greater part of my life – my father was associated with the trucking industry and we spent alot of time ‘on the highway; driving was his passion, his business. I just happen to be a youth in position to hear many of those ‘trucker’s stories’ as drivers sat around the truck stop sipping their coffee.  What a bunch of characters they were; especially ‘Ham-bone,’ short in stature but with the richest of tales – captivating all around with never ending stories and antic’s.

This past summer I took a small ‘raft’ down the Mississippi River to New Orleans (out at Biloxi); 1800 miles worth (Raft The Mississippi) – and after completing 30 years as a firefighter for the City of Asheville, NC. I just may find an opportunity to ease down a few of those overlooked highways once more; in a little less of a hurry.

Why Not?

.

• from the back seat as a kid, to a Life at Sixty.