Book review: “Route 66: A Trail of Tears”

This isn’t a Route 66 nostalgia book.

“Route 66: A Trail of Tears” (514 pages, soft cover, self-published) offers vivid evidence why some people regarded the highway with anguish and dread during its heyday. Historian Barry Duncan compiled hundreds of black-and-white photographs of accidents along a stretch of the Mother Road in southwest Missouri from the 1950s to the 1970s.

The book shows why the highway was called “Bloody 66” for many years.

Duncan said in an email about the book:

The goal was to document an aspect of The Mother Road that is not usually thought of, or talked about, in relation to Route 66. It wasn’t really the fun, happy place we think of when we look back at the “good ole days.” Many were maimed or killed during the existence of Route 66. This book looks at an approximate 60 mile segment in Southwest Missouri. This leaves 2,338 miles of the same horrible thing happening on every section of Route 66.

The images were taken by photographer and former Carthage, Missouri, mayor William Carl Taylor. After he died in 1990, Taylor’s family donated his negatives to the Jasper County Records and Research Center.

Duncan stumbled onto the treasure trove of images while researching another project a few years ago. He promptly began digitizing the images because the negatives were deteriorating, and he feared their content would be lost forever.

Duncan also served on the Carthage police force for 32 years and worked an estimated 2,000 accidents. So his preface to “Route 66: A Trail of Tears” comes with an air of authority when he describes about how vastly different previous decades were — especially with bystanders and gawkers at wrecks:

I remember as a teenager, if there was a serious wreck, the wrecked car would normally be towed to a service station or local wrecker lot and “put on display” for lack of a better description. All the local teens would congregate at the car and trade wild rumors about what happened, or might have happened. Today the vehicle is towed to an impound lot and hidden behind security fences. […]

If you see a traffic crash today, there is no way in “Sam Hill” the authorities will let you get anywhere close once they arrive on scene. There is an invisible barrier that you had better not cross. Back in the day, accidents were up close and personal. You could stand as close as you wanted and do pretty much as you liked. […]

Accidents were “social events.” If you look at accident photos from several decades ago, you will see large groups of all types gathering to help, watch or socialize about the event.

The images essentially depict now-vintage cars and trucks rendered into a mess of mangled metal, shattered glass and spilled fluids, with tow trucks, traffic cops and the aforementioned gawkers standing nearby.

Duncan, fortunately, took care to not include photos of dead bodies from severe accidents.

“Route 66: A Trail of Tears” isn’t all gloom. Duncan surmised the images often would fascinate historians and Route 66 aficionados because what could be seen in the background in the photos, including:

— Gas stations or automotive shops, including the brands Phillips 66, D-X, Cities Service, Fina, Apco, Mobil, Texaco, Skelly, Standard Paraland and El Reco. A few 1950s images revealed decorative glass globes on the top of the pumps, as well as gasoline (or ethyl) going for 26.9 cents a gallon.

— Signs, including current-day survivors such as the 66 Drive-In theater, Boots Court motel and Kel-Lake Motel. Other signs included the Midway Cafe in Avilla, Everitt Market, Lake Shore Motel, Drake Hotel, Guest House Hotel, Dazy Courts, Ray’s Cafe, Wilder’s Restaurant, Hoover Agency insurance, Howard Buick Co. and the Boots Drive-In restaurant. One 1973 image revealed a Wal-Mart Discount City sign, long before the chain became a retail behemoth.

— Billboards, including an image outside Carthage showing outdoor advertising every 150 yards or so — something unthinkable today.

Despite the book’s 2 1/2-pound heft, “Route 66: A Trail of Tears” proves to be a fast and fun read because of its spare text and the joy of finding those previously mentioned treasures from another era amid the images.

But, as you might expect, the photos also show why driving Route 66 was so much more dangerous:

— Many rural side roads leading up to Route 66 were gravel, making a quick entrance on to the highway almost impossible or a turn on to the rural road more hazardous.

— Route 66 was narrow and had almost no shoulders, making head-on collisions more likely.

— Several interior shots of wrecked cars show the steering wheel bent like cooked spaghetti. Many motorists died from impact on the steering column during a collision, especially before seat belts were commonly used.

— Several of the same intersections in Jasper County kept showing up in the book — an indication of poor engineering or lack of signs.

— A substantial number of accidents occurred with out-of-town drivers, indicating driver error due to the unfamiliarity with the area.

To accentuate the heartache of Route 66,Duncan brings up the story of 8-year-old Brenda Gail Ruminer in the epilogue. Her mother, father and two twin brothers — her entire family — died in a crash west of Avilla in 1957 when their car crashed into a surplus Army truck on the wrong side of the road. The family was traveling to Mississippi to visit relatives during the Christmas season.

Brenda Gail suffered extensive enough injuries for a Carthage hospital to place her in a body cast. Upon learning about the orphan, Carthage residents showered the girl with gifts and launched a care fund for her.

Duncan, who reproduced clips from the Carthage newspaper about the accident, wrote the Ruminer tragedy was “one wreck that just haunts me more than the rest” amid his research for the book. But he added:

I am so proud of what my hometown, Carthage, Missouri, did for this little girl, Brenda Gail. It is so indicative of what any American town would do for a little girl of such circumstances.

Recommended.