May 8, 2009
“66 Motels” is a collection of photos and interviews that document the independently owned, historic motels of Route 66 and their owners. I was drawn into this project after studying preservation planning along Route 66 for my master’s thesis. In my research, I discovered that the towns and cities along Route 66 - and the Route 66 property owners themselves - view the road and its resources in very different ways, and that preservation can take unexpected turns when what’s being preserved is an idea rather than a concrete series of buildings or places. When preservation encompasses both ideas and places, it gets really interesting; this is what makes Route 66 such a magnet for scholars and aficionados of American culture, and such a conundrum for historic preservation advocates. In a place that is so self-referential and steeped in its own nostalgia, what is truly historic, and what is insignificant? What is worth saving, and what is best forgotten?
One specific goal of this project is to understand the power of signage and the history and contemporary practice of labelling a property as "American Owned". I began this project thinking that "American Owned" was a label that was used exclusively by white motel owners to promote their properties to customers who were disinclined to rent a room at an Indian-American owned motel. This is, without a doubt, the origin of the "American Owned" sign, and some motel owners today defend this language and signage as a legitimate component of their advertising strategy. But I've learned, thanks to several generous interviewees, that this type of signage is often an accident of history, something that came with a property when purchased, or something that Indian-American owners themselves use to make a statement about themselves and their properties.
When I first traveled Route 66, the corridor’s most authentic places – the buildings that spoke most eloquently of the road’s history – were the motels. Architectural styles ranged from the beloved wigwam motels of the southwest to the “Giraffe stone” motor courts of the Missouri Ozarks. And the very fact of the motels helped to tell the story of Route 66, how for decades, the road served as a major transportation corridor for migrant workers, recreational travelers, families, salesmen, immigrants, and anyone who planned to motor west. Once I began interviewing motel owners, I learned more about the complexities of running and maintaining an older, smaller motel and the forces at work against the preservation of these properties. Most interestingly, I found that more than 30% of the independent motel owners along Route 66 were new Americans of Indian descent, people who had come to the U.S. from India, east Africa, Europe, and other parts of the U.S. to own and manage these businesses.
The idea of 66 as a place where people get off the interstate and slow down to smell the desert cacti - a sentiment nicely expressed by the movie “Cars” - is one that resonates with the many fans and roadies of 66. But it is an idea that seems almost quaint next to the poverty that's endemic to 66's smaller towns and some of its urban regions. Along Route 66, motels bring this issue into high relief because today, the corridor’s most successful motels are the ones that serve as weekly or monthly rentals for locals who cannot afford stable housing. A few businesses get by on the seasonal Route 66 traveling population or a combination of tourism and rentals, but most require a more steady flow of income. Some owners will take whatever business they can get, leading to an association with drugs, prostitution, and the occasional fire from a meth lab. Many historic motels are simply abandoned.
Motel owners suffer as well, since keeping these businesses going and preserving their architectural character takes resources well beyond the means of most small business owners. In their more charitable moods, the owners I’ve met describe running a motel as a labor of love. At worst, it is a burden and a choice that they made from a limited range of options, because it was the business they knew best. This is often true of the new Americans I have met, people for whom motels have provided a home, an income, and a future in a new, unfamiliar country, but with great effort and sacrifice on the part of the owners.
In addition to meeting the challenges inherent in an older, smaller property, motel owners on 66 must compete with large, established Interstate businesses - chains with more financial resources, newer and larger construction, a centralized look and feel and marketing arm, and a heck of a lot more customers as a result. A motel with twelve rooms has trouble competing with a motel that has fifty rooms, because economies of scale tip the balance in favor of the larger properties. Add in the chain infrastructure supporting the Quality Inns of America and their equivalent, and you have an impossible competitor -- one who can offer a more familiar product at a lower price. Fortunately, the small but significant advantage of the independents is their unique architecture and identity, and the fact that they represent the “spirit” of Route 66, for those who seek it. I believe that the motels that are most likely to survive along Route 66 will be the ones that can successfully make themselves a part of the message that life is more authentic, more joyous, and generally just better off of the Interstate.
In my research and conversations about these places, I’ve
seen some motels that are doing this effortlessly, but many more that have yet
to capture the elusive Route 66 magic.
The properties are too small, too expensive to maintain, and too far
away from the flow of traffic, and no amount of enthusiasm for American history
or commercial architecture can change these circumstances. Nonetheless, it’s inspiring to me that
many owners who came to America as children or teenagers understand implicitly
that being on Route 66 is an opportunity to promote their businesses and connect
with others. Along with this
is an opportunity for friends of the road to promote these owners’ stories, to
add another layer of history to the many layers already evident along the
highway. Behind every historic
Route 66 motel is a person and a history that enriches the architectural and
cultural experience of the whole corridor. And that's the story that I hope the 66 Motels project will
tell to others.
Anne Dodge
www.annedodge.com