(lively piano music)

♪

(narrator)

Since its inception in 1926,

Route 66 has been an icon

of the American West

and a defining element

of the American experience.

From Chicago to Los Angeles,

the Mother Road

takes us on a journey

from the East

to the American West,

with its wide-open skies

and a mix of different cultures.

(woman)

Route 66 has opened the gateway

to a lot of opportunities.

(Shellee)

You can still drive it?

I'm like, "Oh, my gosh,

how cool is that?"

-Where y'all from?

-Germany!

(narrator)

International visitors

come by the tens of thousands,

hungry for

an American experience.

(speaking foreign language)

(playful music)

♪

(Mirna)

But the most famous

person of all...

-Who?

-...me.

They grew up watching

American television,

Route 66 with George Maharis,

Martin Milner,

and they're all here

to see America of yesterday.

(narrator)

Beloved television shows,

like the Route 66 TV show,

and films like Easy Rider,

have celebrated the road

from a male perspective,

in which women are seldom

in the driver's seat.

♪

(woman)

We forget that women

were on those journeys.

We forget

that women were working

all along the way

in those businesses.

(narrator)

Despite its moniker,

the Mother Road,

little attention has been paid

to diverse women's experiences

across many different cultures,

and almost 100 years of history.

(woman)

When I first got the motel,

and they were having

a convention,

and they said,

"Well, a woman doesn't come.

There's no women!"

And so,

they put this man beside me.

I don't know who he is!

But they just said,

"Well, no, you just,

just has to be a man with you."

It's a mirror held up

to the nation,

a road that can be, really,

a living classroom.

(woman)

She was entrepreneurial.

She was very business-oriented.

And she allowed us to live

a very comfortable life.

(narrator)

From archaeologists,

to politicians,

and countless entrepreneurs,

women overcame segregation

and gender discrimination

to build fulfilling lives

for themselves

and generations to come

on America's most beloved road.

This is their story.

(nostalgic music)

♪

When the writing

was on the wall,

after the interstate highway

bill was signed and enacted,

it took a long time,

but immediately from 1956

on to the mid-'80s,

it began the death knell

for Route 66,

slowly but surely,

the creation of these

five interstate highways

that parallel Route 66 today,

55, 44, 40, 15, and 10.

(Sean)

When it was decommissioned,

I think, in a way,

the favor that

the federal government had done

is by doing something so brash

as saying,

"We declare this road

to not exist."

That brought people

out of a shell to say,

"Wow, maybe we need

to look at this."

(narrator)

In 1985, when the Mother Road

was decommissioned,

people were immediately hungry

to escape the homogeneous chains

and endless strip malls

that had taken over America.

Despite its black and white

shields being dismantled,

they took to the road,

looking for America's

vanishing main streets.

(Michael)

Suzanne and I knew that

the road was still there,

85 percent of it!

This is actually a love letter

to the road and the people

because I got tired,

we both did,

of people talking about 66

in the past tense.

(Suzanne)

Michael and I made the trip

along Route 66 before Christmas.

I took a lot of the pictures.

And so, we would go a few feet,

and then Michael would say,

"Here, let's get a picture,"

so I'd climb out

with all my bags and everything

and take pictures.

And then,

we'd get back in the car,

-and he'd go a little further.

-Resiliency,

that's what it takes.

For years,

I was sort of like a voice

crying in the wilderness,

going into the capitals

of each of the eight states,

Springfield, Illinois,

Jeff City, Missouri,

Oklahoma City,

all the way out to Sacramento,

and trying to convince

the people in state government,

in city governments,

in chambers,

"Look, the revitalization

of this road,

85 percent of which

you can still travel,

means it puts vehicular traffic

in your state,

your county, your city."

(man)

Certainly,

a road trip on Route 66

is a lot better than a major

interstate highway.

(Michael)

Well, you know, when you're on

a super-slab like that,

you might as well be on

an airport runway.

It's the cookie-cutter culture.

♪

(narrator)

Whether it's in an Airstream,

as part of a racing team,

or on a motorbike,

today's travelers

are seeking something more

than a quick photo.

It's all about

the personal connection.

(indistinct speaking)

♪

I've been

the vice president twice,

president,

and now I'm sergeant at arms.

I've also been a road captain

throughout the whole time.

(people murmuring)

We had a meeting

specifically to choose a name.

So, we all sat around the table,

and there was probably

20 of us at the time,

and everybody threw out names.

And I went to the washroom,

and when I got back,

I heard the name Organized Chaos

for the first time,

and that that was what

we were gonna be called.

What would make

Organized Chaos unique,

it's the philanthropic

aspect of it.

So, whenever we can ride

and still do some

philanthropic work, we do.

(woman)

So, are you guys all aware of

Sarah's Circle and what they do?

They are a non-profit

organization,

they have about 50 beds

for homeless women,

or for women

who just kind of drop in.

(Nancy)

This actual memorial

is for gay soldiers.

So, we were elected to be

the honor guard for that,

which we were all very proud of.

We started out focusing on LGBT.

And then, as we developed more,

we realized that we have

a lot of different backgrounds,

and so now we've branched out

to support a lot of different

kinds of organizations as well.

We actually ride on Route 66.

We left from here,

so we looked for a place

that was a part of Route 66.

And then, we took it

all the way down to Pontiac.

So, it was a lot of fun.

We stopped a lot

at the different iconic sites

along the route.

When we get off the bikes

on a big ride,

you know,

you'll have a little boy go,

"Mommy, they're all girls!"

But it's not unusual

for somebody's battery

to need to be replaced

on the side of the road.

And you have these women

pullin' out screwdrivers,

and takin' the battery out,

and puttin' it in.

We don't wait for somebody else

to do it for us.

We love to ride,

and that's what

brings us all together.

(upbeat jazzy music)

♪

(narrator)

Starting in Chicago

and heading west,

the Mother Road traverses

urban and rural landscapes.

Regardless of differences

in environment, however,

women entrepreneurs have lacked

the same access to capital

as their male peers.

(Kathryn)

Lou Mitchell's

has been here since 1923.

And we are on

565 West Jackson Boulevard,

which is pretty much

about the beginning of Route 66.

And Uncle Lou

was my best friend.

And then, when it was time that

he wanted to retire, here I am.

We always say that when

one Greek meets another Greek,

they open up a restaurant!

I mean, what else

are we gonna do?

Lights, camera, action

is how the day goes.

It's just the audience changes,

who comes, and who goes.

And it's just, it's just fun!

And people come

from all over the world.

The very first time

that my sister and I,

on our first project,

went to the bank

to borrow money,

we were told by the banker

that women are

unqualified debt holders.

Needless to say,

I never had high blood pressure,

but I did at that moment.

I was like, "Oh, okay."

Well, we did get our loan

from a different banker.

And the interesting thing

is that the people that

weren't gonna loan us money

because we were not

qualified debt holders

went out of business!

Isn't that providential?

(Donna)

I've been working

at Lou Mitchell's for 31 years.

I'll be 92 in May.

My first job,

I worked for my aunt in Iowa

in a little, small restaurant.

I was 13 years old.

And I liked it.

I give out the Milk Duds

and the donut holes.

Mr. Lou Mitchell himself

started that,

like, maybe 50, 60 years ago.

But you have to give out

your personality

more than anything

'cause we get

a lot of repeat people.

And we get

a very lot of tourists,

which I like them a lot too.

Everyone likes to be recognized,

and I like to recognize them.

(narrator)

Working in a family-owned

and operated business

is an aspect

of the Route 66 culture

and women's experiences

that unites past and present.

(Mirna)

$73.31, sir.

And I'll put our card

in the bag.

We're online if you'd like

to read more of Route 66.

When my dad and my mom started

this little gift shop here,

my dad was still

a full-time barber.

So, he would be

in the barbershop

doing haircuts and shaves.

And my mom was the person

who ran the store.

And together,

between the two of them,

they ordered,

they would price product.

My mom would take care

of customers.

When I first came to work here,

in one of our rooms

in the back, they had a bed!

So, they would take turns

taking naps, you know.

They were working

seven days a week

when they were building

this Route 66 store.

And the alignment

that our store sits on,

that came in in the '60s.

So, before that,

this is where everything

was happening, right here.

And, as you can see now,

there's not much goin' on.

And my grandfather's business,

my grandfather opened up

a pool hall and barbershop.

Well, his business

is one block down that way.

So, the family business was also

right on Main Street back then.

And my grandfather

also got bypassed,

and my dad got bypassed,

so it's kinda like

history keeps repeating itself.

Today, America's like I-40,

all right,

it's goin' very,

very, very fast.

Route 66 represents America

and where our country

has come from.

We are such a young country

that most our history took place

on this road right here.

The largest migration

of American history,

during the Depression,

took place here on Route 66.

We hear people from Germany,

we hear people from France.

We hear people

from all over the world.

They grew up watching

American television.

They grew up watching

the television show,

Route 66 with George Maharis,

Martin Milner,

and they're all here

to see America of yesterday.

And they tell us

when they travel Route 66,

it's a feeling, to them,

of what America used to be.

-Want photo?

-Sorry.

Yeah, may I have

a picture with you?

(Angel)

Okay, cheese, cheese,

cheese, and cottage cheese.

(Olivia)

You can't say Angel Delgadillo

without thinking of Route 66.

He's such an important part

of the entire experience.

People actually come to America

to see Angel, to meet Angel.

(Sean)

What we have here

is Angel's argument

for why the Arizona

Highway Department

did not handle

the bypass period well.

He took notice of the green

federal highway signs

between Flagstaff

and Seligman.

They don't even mention Seligman

until after you pass Ashfork.

And so, Angel's point was,

in the days of Route 66,

you knew you were

going through these towns,

and they were lined up in a row,

and you had to go through them.

But once you got on I-40,

you could go all the way

to Los Angeles

and never even

get off the freeway.

So, if you needed anything,

if you'd overnighted

in Flagstaff,

unless you needed gas,

or food, or something,

these signs for the local

cities and towns,

like Ashfork and Williams,

would have taken the business

before you'd gotten to Seligman.

Seligman would have been

a forgotten city.

It's interesting to think of

the barber of Seligman

going toe-to-toe

with the Arizona

Department of Transportation

in the Arizona

governor's office.

This physical item

is the embodiment

of Angel Delgadillo's struggle

to get people to hear

the tragedy.

(blues music)

♪

(narrator)

Working with family could have

its challenges for women,

and particularly

when your mother was the boss

in a time when women

in leadership positions

was very rare.

(lively music)

Well, this side over here,

this is the couple

that put the factory in here,

Cal and Marie Frazier.

They bought it and created jobs

for lots of women.

(Betty)

So, what time did work start?

(Linda)

Well, when I was in school,

I started at 6:30,

and I'd work 'till 8:00,

go to school,

and I'd come back,

work from 4:00 until 6:00,

go home, and then come back

and work 'till 9:00.

(Betty)

I cannot believe that

they let you work

as a teenager

like that in school.

(Linda)

Well, yeah,

Mother was supervisor, so.

(Betty)

Oh, I see!

(Martha)

Her mother was Estelle Grimsley,

I remember her very well.

-Estelline Grimsley.

-Estelline.

(Betty)

During this time, really,

other than

maybe a teacher at school,

I never knew women,

many women who worked

outside of the home, period.

And, certainly,

I didn't know women

who were in charge of anything.

(Linda)

She was the number one lady.

Actually, she didn't have much

sewing skills.

She was just, she was--

-She was a go-getter!

-Go-getter,

she worked, she worked hard.

She came out of

the cotton patch to this.

I think she was hard on me,

but that was because

I'm the boss' daughter.

She fired me twice.

(Betty)

Uh-oh, she got angry and fired--

(Linda)

She went and pulled my card,

and said, "Don't come back."

(Jackie)

She threatened me twice.

(Betty)

Really, what were you doing?

(Jackie)

She said somethin' I didn't

like, and I told her about it!

And she didn't like that either,

you know, you don't do that.

She's your boss!

(Betty)

Was she criticizing

the way you were sewing?

(Martha)

Well, that was her job!

(Jackie)

She had to come over

and look and see what we did.

And if you didn't do it right,

she would put a red tag on it,

and you had to do it over!

And you couldn't miss a stitch.

I was a lacer,

lace on the bras.

(Martha)

You had a lace cup,

and you had a tricot cup,

and you set that tricot cup

in there.

-You sewed around it?

-Yeah, you sewed around it--

-Did you zigzag--

-No, no, no, no.

Anyway, you got paid by the box.

You got so much an hour,

and then if you met your quota,

any over that,

why, you got some extra.

(Linda)

Off the ticket that you

had to tear off of each box.

-Yeah.

-Mm-hm.

(Martha)

So, when I left,

I was makin' pretty good money.

We had two or three years

of drought, you know,

and stuff was,

it was hard.

That was the reason

I started to work,

to help pay the lunch bill

for the kids at school,

and just little things

to help out.

(Linda)

I had rather saw my mother

workin' here

-as out in the cotton patch.

-Well, of course, yes!

(Linda)

And so, this was--

for all the women,

that's where they came from.

(downhearted music)

(narrator)

Post World War II,

and as civil rights advanced,

African Americans

left the South on Route 66,

searching for opportunities

they should, by law,

have had everywhere,

but did not.

(car honking)

That is your little

hole-in-the-wall

kind of picture.

It was actually the foundation

of us going into business,

and what you see there

is two people that enjoyed

doing what they do.

They enjoyed serving people.

They enjoyed caring for people,

and they were motivated

by the good Lord to do His will.

When we finally moved into

this central location,

Mom was actually

the business part of it,

and she was also the one that

made customers feel comfortable.

Mom ran the show.

She was actually the glue

that held us all together.

She was the glue

that kinda accompanied him

because he drove us,

but she made sure that

we were ready to be driven.

If you look at the logo here,

that represents 1870.

1870 was my dad's

great-great-grandmother,

her name was Aunt Caroline.

Aunt Caroline

came up with the recipe

to the barbecue sauce,

and she handed it down

four generations.

Now, she was born in slavery

in Mississippi,

sold to another family

into Louisiana,

and she died in Nacogdoches,

East Texas.

The root of our flavoring

actually comes out of Louisiana.

(Sharon)

Now, when your family

moved over here,

do you happen to remember

how they traveled,

or how you all traveled?

(Joe)

We had 66 at Tucumcari,

I think it was.

Came up Tucumcari, straight up.

We had a station wagon

that had all of us in it,

it was 13 of us.

And the truck was,

was in as good a shape

as Dad could get it.

Anyway, Dad and Mom

argued all night

about whether or not

we should be doing this.

When we woke up,

we were here.

(Mike)

But Mom wanted us all

to graduate from high school,

go to college,

go to the military,

wherever they wanted.

And she said,

"I wanted to give them

the full opportunity."

That opportunity was available

in New Mexico.

(upbeat music)

(Joe)

Part of the move was

Brown vs. Board integrating

schools happened in 1954.

We left there four years later,

and schools hadn't integrated.

So, that's why some things

couldn't happen in Texas

'cause Texas was cut and dry,

Black here, white there.

And we cranked up

a barbecue operation

on South Broadway, 1962.

So, the business

started to rise,

I mean, to the point where

I would meet people,

I met a captain in the Air Force

in San Francisco one night,

and he said,

"I ate at your folks' restaurant

the other night.

Wanna go out and see a movie?"

(laughing)

(narrator)

A strong sense of home

was important

to Route 66 communities

and the women who led them

through good times and bad.

Route 66 didn't exactly split

Times Beach down the middle.

Some of it was on the south side

of old highway 66.

The largest majority of it

was on the north side

of old highway 66.

In 1925, the St. Louis

Star-Times newspaper

acquired the property

and made it into weekend homes.

A lot of the homes

were on stilts

because of the flooding.

People used it

as a summer resort,

or they'd come out

for the weekend,

you know, bring their family.

(Marilyn)

Times Beach was very small.

It seemed like everybody

was related to everybody.

There was under 1,200 people

at the time I first moved here.

1981, I ran for office.

My platform was to get

some things in the community

for our young people to do.

(Diane)

The Times Beach community

was a community of folks

who were not wealthy.

A lot of 'em came

after World War II,

and moved into places

that had been clubhouses.

The roads were all dirt roads.

They got together

and hired somebody,

Russell Bliss,

to spread oil on the road.

And Russell decided

the oil he had in his truck

was the best to use.

However, he had been paid

to take that oil

to a recycling center

because it was contaminated.

(Marilyn)

Verona is where

the chemical plant was.

They manufactured

Agent Orange there,

and dioxin

is an unwanted byproduct

in the manufacture

of Agent Orange.

It's the same thing

that the Vietnam veterans

and the people in Vietnam

have been exposed to.

On November the 11th, 1982,

I got a call at work

from the city clerk,

who reported to me

that a reporter

from a local newspaper

had called city hall.

Told us that the streets

were sprayed with waste oil

containing dioxin.

I just couldn't believe it.

(troubled music)

In the early weeks,

when we were discussing dioxin,

people were telling me,

as an elected official,

about their health problems.

And then, I got to thinking

about my family.

I had a daughter

that had a very rare disorder.

She would swell up,

she'd get hives

all over her body,

her throat would swell,

her lips would swell,

her nose would swell,

her eyes would swell shut.

Her doctor told us

that he thought that it was

something in the environment.

We had meetings with the EPA,

who told us at the time

that it would be

nine months to a year

before they could

get in and test

to tell us if in fact

the dioxin was there.

And, of course,

we were not happy with that,

so we got busy and found a lab

that could do the testing.

In the meantime,

I'm coming home from work,

and I'm hearing

the Corps of Engineers

talk about flooding.

They're predicting flooding

along the low-lying

areas of the river,

and telling people

to move to higher ground.

And, of course,

I was the eternal optimist

who thought

the dioxin's not there,

and it's not gonna flood.

But on December 5th of 1982,

the water was coming up.

As the water was coming up,

they were in there

taking the samples.

The EPA had discovered

that they could also use

the same lab that we used.

On December the 23rd,

the government told

the residents of Times Beach

that the levels exceeded

the one part per billion

that was set as the safe level.

And they told us

if we were in town,

to leave and not take

anything with us.

If we were out of town,

not to come back.

That was our Christmas message

on December 23rd.

Once these insurance companies

learned that we were exposed

to this chemical,

they didn't wanna pay.

I think that when I ran

for the office in 1981,

if I would have known

I was going to end up

in Washington D.C.,

I wouldn't have run.

But I will say that

the senators and the congressmen

were very sympathetic.

They did ask a lot of questions.

John Ashcroft

appointed me trustee

to do the buyout,

to take title to the property

'till all the property

was acquired,

and then to sign it over

to the state of Missouri.

He said, "Marilyn,

when you're given lemons,

you make lemonade."

And so, there I was taking title

to all of this property

that was contaminated

with the most toxic chemical

known to man.

In the early years,

when a resident died

and they were cremated,

the family

would bring the ashes,

and they would go out

in the middle of the bridge,

and they would throw the ashes

into the river,

along with some flowers

to say goodbye.

We called it

our memorial service.

You know what the one thing

about the bridge,

and I want you to get

this message across,

people come here

from all over the world

to see what the government

has done here.

This is, like, the second

clean-up of this kind.

And with them not being able

to cross that bridge,

that bridge is a major

connection to the history here.

♪

(narrator)

Route 66 has an overwhelmingly

positive connotation.

But as the American

highway system transformed,

so too did

the Mother Road's reputation.

Starting with

well-known criminals,

like Bonnie and Clyde

in the 1930s,

the road was used as a conduit

for several

vicious killing sprees

that touched women's lives

and terrorized travelers.

(Brenda)

So, this place has got

a lot of history, yeah.

This cafe's been here since '28.

(Becky)

We would come through here

on our way to the mountains from

Amarillo.

We would always ask my dad

if we could stop in Adrian

and eat pie.

(Brenda)

A lot of people come in sayin',

"We want your ugly pie,"

and it's not just our ugly pie,

it's our pies.

It's the name

of all of our pies.

And we've found out that

the first one comin' out

sometimes is pretty ugly!

(laughing)

-That's just the way it is.

-It ends upside down.

It could be a cobbler, even,

who knows!

(Becky)

So, it's beautiful

whenever we eat it

-because it's so delicious.

-It is!

It doesn't matter

how it comes out,

it always tastes good, yeah!

(laughing)

(woman)

It says, "When you're here,

you're halfway there."

Adrian, now, is very safe.

We hardly have any action

of any kind.

(easygoing music)

Back in the '60s,

cars were backed up

all the way down Route 66,

both directions,

24 hours, even at night.

And there were some things

that happened, locally,

that kind of made it

have a dark connotation to it

because of people being murdered

in businesses and whatnot.

My parents owned

the State Line Bar,

which was actually

a combination motel, bar,

grocery store, cafe,

post office.

(laughing)

You name it.

And then, they sold that

to my grandparents.

(Becky)

Didn't some kind of a crime

happen here?

-Yes, yes.

-The State Line Bar?

(Roxann)

Yeah, a lady was murdered, yeah.

-Stabbed. Uh-huh.

-In the bar?

-She was a customer in the bar?

-No, she was workin' in there.

(Becky)

Oh!

(Roxann)

The original Route 66,

or the main street of Glenrio,

ran north and south,

and that's where

most of the businesses were.

Lumberyard, bank, hotels,

railroad station,

yeah, all kinds of things.

This may be the only

colored one of the station,

how it used to look.

And my dad.

And my dad put in

a Texaco station and diner

right here

in front of the house

the year I was born, 1950.

The town back then

was very busy!

He would send us kids out

to wash the windshields

and check the oil.

And then, now, you knew about

my husband, didn't you?

(Becky)

Well, I thought maybe

I had read something about that,

but I wasn't sure

of the details of it.

(Roxann)

Yeah, that was in Adrian in '76,

March of '76.

He was leasing a station

at the far end of Adrian.

Now, they tore that place down

right after her was killed,

the owner, he said nobody else

is gonna be in there.

But, yeah, a man from Dallas,

he'd already killed

someone else that morning,

stole their car,

and then came along here

and robbed and shot my husband.

I remember he was planning

to come home early that night,

and I guess he just didn't

get gone early enough.

In fact,

he may have been closing,

with the money out,

when this guy came along.

I don't know.

Another thing is

he had a rifle

in the backseat of that Pontiac.

There's a story

on that Pontiac too.

(sorrowful music)

But it didn't do him any good

inside the station.

And my son,

he just lacked two days

being eight months old

-at the time.

-Goodness.

He was a jokester

and always pullin' tricks.

(laughing)

Always laughin', lot of fun.

I made the shirt.

Yeah, I used to make

all of his shirts.

Sadly, this particular one

is the one I chose

to bury him in, even.

Yeah, he never saw this picture.

(narrator)

As they interacted more

with the public

through their businesses,

women were increasingly aware

that they might

be targeted at work,

and they took measures

to protect themselves.

The Coliseum Ballroom

was the kind of place

where every mother didn't want

her teenage daughter to go,

and I speak

from experience on that

because I grew up

during that era...

(lively music)

...going sometimes on weekends

to see the big bands

and the big artists

that were there.

It was the exception

for a woman

to operate a theatre

or a ballroom,

particularly a ballroom

such as this,

where there could be

a very rowdy crowd.

♪

Joyce Tarro was the owner

and operator

of the Coliseum Ballroom

in Benld, Illinois.

Joyce was a tough broad.

She packed a pistol,

at least one at a time.

She could actually

throw out troublemakers

all by herself, she didn't

need to call a bouncer.

So, she was a tough,

tough woman.

Her father, Dominic Tarro,

had established

the Coliseum Ballroom in 1923,

actually the same year

that Joyce was born.

(machine whirring)

Benld was a town of mines,

and immigrants,

and bootleg stills.

The Coliseum Ballroom

became famous

for all the big-name bands

that came there,

Tommy Dorsey,

and Count Basie,

and it attracted as many

as 2,000 people of an evening.

They could accommodate

a big crowd in there.

Joyce's father, Dominic,

was indicted for bootlegging

in the 1920s,

and after that, he disappeared.

His body was found floating

in the Illinois River.

After that, his wife, Marie,

took over the operation

of the ballroom.

But in 1955, she retired,

and Joyce became the operator

of the ballroom.

So, she operated the ballroom

for over 20 years.

(jazz music)

She had this habit

of bringing the night's receipts

home with her

in the wee hours, of course,

in the morning,

2:00, 3:00,

after the ballroom had closed.

And on that night,

after the Valentine's dance,

she got home with about

$3,000 worth of receipts

and her pistol on her hip,

and she heard a noise

inside her house.

(shattering)

Intruders had

broken into her house

and were waiting for her,

and a gun battle ensued.

Joyce took about six

or seven bullets,

and she was dead by the time

the authorities got there.

But she's a legend

in the area.

(easygoing music)

(narrator)

The roadside architecture

of Route 66,

from its buildings,

to its signage,

leave an indelible impression

on travelers,

and have been a source

for much creative inspiration.

In '98,

I was living in St. Louis,

and there were several landmarks

along Watson Road,

Old Route 66,

that were being torn down,

and I got really pissed off.

So, I'm calling this

Self Portrait Route 66 Lament.

It's showing myself angry.

My dog, Maxine, she's angry.

Coral Court, gone.

The 66 Park-In Theatre, gone.

Crystal Motel, gone.

Wayside Motel, still there,

the sign, the neon sign, gone.

I remember being there

when Coral Court

was just destroyed,

and there was just bricks

all over the place.

It was just so sad.

The Coral Court Motel

was on Watson Road

in the village

of Marlborough, Missouri,

which is west,

southwest St. Louis County,

and it's definitely on Route 66.

And the Coral Court

was a natural day's drive

from Chicago to St. Louis,

so it was the perfect place

for people to stop,

for families to stop,

for salesmen to stop.

Really, one of the first

photographs

that I remember taking,

it was at night, thinking,

"Well, I'll just

sneak out there."

I'm like, "Maybe if I just

jump out of the car,

and take a photo,

and leave,

nobody will see me,

and grab my camera."

I just had this fear

that they were gonna

rip the film outta my camera.

The owner of the Coral Court

Motel was John Carr,

and he was married to Jessie,

and they acquired the property

in 1940.

They built the Coral Court

with the great architect,

Adolph Struebig, in 1941,

and the motel opened in 1942.

People just loved that you could

drive your car

right into the garage,

close it,

and go right into the room.

You could hide away

from your spouse,

or the police,

or any number of things.

Carr, some people

thought he was generous,

some people thought

he was terrific.

And then, you find out that

he did time at Leavenworth,

and he had a brothel

in the city before this,

and rumor has it that Jessie

was his favorite prostitute.

I mean, this is some

good times here.

(nostalgic music)

The rumors, like this photo

of how many people

will fit into

a Coral Court shower stall,

people used to have parties

at Coral Court.

They just had parties.

I mean, like, society people

would just wanna go there

because everybody knew

about Coral Court

and the reputation it had.

Yeah, being a mom,

it's always a struggle

trying to do your creative work.

My handsome son,

he got to ride along with me.

Sometimes, I'd just

pick him up after school

and just drive somewhere

to photograph a neon sign.

(playful music)

Any historic sign

really gives the neighborhood

a sense of its history

and its place.

And we're here

on Figueroa Street,

North Figueroa Street

in Highland Park.

It's a part of

Historic Route 66.

And we're at my studio,

which has on its roof

a statue called Chicken Boy,

and he has become a landmark.

♪

Originally, the statue

was on top of a restaurant

that was called Chicken Boy.

It was on Broadway,

between 4th and 5th Streets.

The terminus of Route 66

is 7th and Broadway,

so he was really,

really close by.

He became this kind of

marker in my life.

So, I kept going back

to just wave at him.

Most of these visitations

were late at night,

sort of one the way home

from a night club,

or dinner,

or something like that.

One night, really late,

I'm driving by him,

and the restaurant

was boarded up,

and there was a for lease sign

on the boards.

So I took down the number,

and I just started calling.

I just wanted to make sure that

they weren't gonna take him

off the building

and take him to the desert

and shoot him up.

I wanted people

to be able to see him

because he was important to me.

He was my friend.

So, I was interested

in just making sure

that he was gonna be okay.

I had no intention

of actually acquiring him,

and having this big adventure

spanning many decades,

but that's how it happened.

When I first got the statue,

I had him in storage,

and I had to pay for storage.

So, I created

a mail-order catalog,

and I actually got a lot

of press from doing that.

And I would say,

"Oh, send me a dollar,

and I'll send you a catalog."

So, I started getting

all kinds of amazing letters

like this one.

I have three or four binders

full of these letters,

post cards,

just crazy comments from people.

"I read about you

and Chicken Boy

in the December 28th issue

of the Chicago Tribune.

That's when I said,

'Yes, I need a catalog.'"

When we first moved

to Highland Park,

we knew that we were gonna try

and put Chicken Boy on our roof.

It's been a challenge

from the get-go,

having to deal with the city,

getting permits,

getting structural engineering.

This is a historic neighborhood,

so I had to do presentations

to a lot of different groups

who had to sign off

on this whole project.

And when you're dealing with,

"Hey, I wanna put this statue

of a man with a chicken's head

on my roof,"

a lot of people,

they don't hear

what you're saying.

They don't get it,

including city planning.

They were tough!

Obviously, nobody wanted to be

the one who signed off on it,

so I kept getting rejected.

But, they never

made it official,

so I just kept going back.

When I first saw Chicken Boy,

what I saw was somebody

who was kind of awkward,

and self-conscious,

and sort of

felt like an outsider,

and all he really wanted to do

was be accepted

for who he really is.

And, okay,

so that's probably me.

I was totally projecting that

at the time.

But I have found that

a lot of other people

really respond to him

in the same kind of manner.

It might be subconscious,

but I think the outsider

who just wants to fit in

is kind of a universal thing.

I think that's what

a lot of people see in him.

(narrator)

When Route 66

caught the attention

of American cinema,

it brought women's stories

to an international audience

and captured their interest.

(Dawn)

My grandmother's recipe,

it's got three ingredients,

butter, flour, and sugar.

-Hello, Dawn!

-Hi, Aleta!

-Are you still working?

-I am,

still makin' peach cobbler,

still at it!

Yup, the gang's all here.

(upbeat music)

♪

(Beverly)

For you, what was it like,

at 24,

getting off a cruise ship,

and coming to Stroud,

and deciding to stick around?

What was in your head

making you wanna do that?

(Dawn)

Well, I wasn't gonna

ever do it, obviously,

I was never gonna stay

in Stroud, Oklahoma.

I was just passing through.

Ed Smalley was the first person

that I met here.

I was riding on my roller blades

down Main Street,

and a truck pulls up next to me.

So, he knew who I was

from my mom,

who was bragging to everybody

that her daughter

from the cruise ship was here.

And so, he pulls up beside me,

and he said he'd heard

that I was lookin' for

restaurant equipment,

and he had a place

that he was sellin'

the restaurant equipment in,

and to follow him.

I can remember him saying,

gently edging me into the idea

of renting the cafe.

24 years old, and I said,

"Okay, well,

how much would you rent it for?"

-He said, "$200 a month."

-That's a bargain!

-It was a bargain even then!

-It was a bargain,

and I thought, "Sold!"

And I drove to Oklahoma City,

and I bought

a how to run a restaurant book.

After I got the book,

I came back here,

and I went

to the Stroud Public Library

'cause it said I needed

a business plan.

So, I go to the library,

and I figure out

how many people live in Stroud.

There's 2,500 people,

and with paying

$200 a month's rent,

I figured I needed to sell

ten hamburgers, fries,

and Cokes, per day.

I came back to Ed,

and I said,

"I think we can do it.

I think I can get

ten people a day."

(Aleta)

24 years old?

-That's amazing!

-Yeah.

I had Alexis in November,

and I thought,

again, now I'm 25, and poor,

and thinkin', "Well,

I can't afford childcare.

I'll just put her up

at the Rock Cafe."

So, I had a little

Noah's basket,

and I put in there,

and I would bring her to work

in that Noah's basket,

and nothing ever

changed for her.

So, I would bring it up here,

and I'd set it in the middle

of one of the tables,

and the customers

all took care of her,

and gooed at her.

And I made burgers,

and we just carried on

like everything was normal.

(Suzanne)

The first call

came to my office,

I had a public relations agency.

And the secretary came in

and said,

"There's somebody on the phone

named John Lasseter,

and he wants

to talk to Michael.

I don't know who it is."

And I said, "I think Michael

will take the call."

(Dawn)

Up pulled three, big, long

Lincoln town cars

and they were full of 14 people

from Pixar Animation Studios

and Michael Wallis.

And they parked their cars,

and they immediately start

gettin' out all this equipment,

and they start

setting it up everywhere.

John Lasseter walks up to me,

and he says,

"I want you to sit down

here at this table,

and I wanna know

everything about you."

So I just talked to him

for four hours straight.

(Aleta)

Oh, my goodness! At 9:00?

(Dawn)

Yeah, it was late.

I think they left about

2:00 or 3:00 in the morning.

My sign was broken,

and they wanted a picture

of that neon sign.

It would only flash on

for a second.

So I told 'em to go

set their cameras up,

and I would come in here,

and I would turn that sign

off and on.

I was so embarrassed.

And I kept tellin' 'em,

"We're gonna be

newly refurbished soon!

We're gonna be

newly refurbished soon."

I'm flippin' that light

off and on.

And that's why the neon part

in the movie is in the movie.

Sally is always talkin' about

being newly refurbished.

Then, we went

to the movie premier.

And from the time it started,

I just started crying

because I knew it would be

for an eternity for my children,

which is why I was

so open with 'em.

But never in a million,

thousand years

did I think they were gonna tell

my life story on a big screen.

-Still get emotional!

-I do!

(laidback music)

♪

(narrator)

Women entrepreneurs

have been at the forefront

of creating business

opportunities

in unexpected ways.

♪

(Melba)

This is the home

of the original inspiration

for Tow Mater in the movie Cars,

and you're at Cars on the Route.

A lot of people come

just to find the cars

that are in the movie!

I mean, I think that movie

helped Route 66 a lot!

Tow Mater, this is actually

a 1951 International boom truck.

One, two, three, four.

See how they don't see ya,

and then, see,

you wave at 'em,

and here they come.

See, here they come.

Hi, guys!

-Where y'all from?

-Germany.

(Melba)

Germany, oh,

I was stationed in Kitzingen.

Now, we got hamburgers inside,

clean bathrooms, cold drinks.

The most important thing, right?

-Yeah!

-Yeah, yeah!

(laughing)

We need six hamburgers

for six Germans,

and six cold Cokes.

They wanna see the old

greasy hamburgers.

They don't want the health food.

They want nostalgia,

that's what they want.

And they want friendly people,

and they want you

to spend time with them

and talk to them.

They just don't want you

to try to sell somethin' to 'em.

We started this business,

and this town was like,

"What are you guys doin'?

This is crazy,

you're not gonna get no people."

We get busses, we get bikes,

we get families, we get RVs.

And now, if you go up

to the city, Galena,

and I say city

because we were one stoplight,

and now we're two stoplights.

That's a big thing

for a town like this.

We get anywhere from 1,000

to 2,000 Americans through here

in a six-month period.

Anywhere from 3,000

to 5,000 Europeans.

(Diana)

Along Route 66,

there are tons of communities

that were once a part

of this active highway.

And a lot of the things

that they've built

represent American history.

And the places that exist

in the world around us

tell our story.

♪

The Threatt filling station

is located three miles east

of the city of Luther, Oklahoma.

And Luther is about 20 miles

outside of Oklahoma City.

The Threatt filling station

was the only African

American-owned filling station

on Route 66 in the country.

(Edward)

That's Mrs. Threatt,

that's her dad,

that's her mom,

brothers, and sisters.

-That's her grandmother, okay?

-Oh, really?

-Yeah.

-That's history.

(David)

It was located in-between

two sundown towns,

which meant that people of color

weren't safe or welcome

in those towns after dark.

There were actual signs

that were up

that these towns had placed

on the outskirts of their town

saying that, basically it said

Negroes and Mexicans

not welcome after sundown.

Couldn't stay in a hotel at all

in any of those cities.

So, fortunately,

this was a place

where they could come

not only to get some food,

get some gas,

but they could pull around

behind the station, park there,

yeah, they could park there,

spend the night,

and be able

to get up the next day

and freshen up

and go about their way.

Every weekend,

this place was booming.

I mean, there were more people--

And it didn't matter which race

or nationality you were.

You were always welcome here.

There was a ball field.

The Negro leagues

were able to stop there,

play ball,

and that was a big deal.

I mean,

people came from all around

the surrounding communities

to watch the teams play.

(man)

It was just a place where

people congregated to have fun,

-have a good time...

-And be safe.

-...and be safe, exactly.

-Yeah, yeah.

(David)

Aunt Elizabeth

ran the filling station

with my Uncle Ulysses,

and they ran it together there

for 18 years.

And she,

after my uncle passed away,

she ran it for about

another 20 years.

(Vivian)

She ran the filling station.

She had other little snacks

and things

around this counter right here.

I can remember she had a big--

it was a pop machine,

Coke machine, or something,

that was behind that counter.

And if you came in to buy a pop,

she used to raise the top up

and get out,

and it was cold pop!

The Jim Crow era was very tough.

And after the 1921

race massacre,

because they were aware of

the station and the homestead,

they came, were able

to stay on the grounds there

for some period of time

until they could get themselves

on their feet

and find out

where they could go.

It was more than just

a filling station.

It was actually a part

of the local community.

Aunt Elizabeth had to be

a very strong woman.

She was a local school teacher.

She graduated from the local

HBCU there, Langston University,

went on as one of the first

five African Americans

to attend Central State College.

(Edward)

And this is the award.

There were five Blacks

that integrated UCO, yeah,

and she was one of the five.

Not all of them graduated,

though.

They couldn't--

some of 'em just,

it was just too much.

The bias that existed,

it was just too much for 'em.

(David)

When she went back to Luther,

she taught there.

She was able to just

have a huge impact.

Threatt families started

a Threatt Filling Station

Foundation.

We want to re-open

the filling station

as an interpretive center,

a museum of sorts,

that can explain

what it was like

for people of color

traveling Route 66

during the Jim Crow era.

We've had a lot of support.

We got together with

a contractor who was local,

a contractor who not only

knows about the building,

but also knew my aunt

who lived in the building,

who was also his teacher.

And so, it just all came

together by the grace of God.

(David)

And 2026 is

the Route 66 centennial.

Our goal is to be open for that.

(spirited music)

(Barbara)

We are at the epicenter

of where it all takes place.

So, this is really

the convergence

where the Santa Fe Trail,

the Camino Real,

Route 66 National Trails,

and they all really end

at La Fonda.

(narrator)

Route 66 and the American West

have been marketed to tourists

as a place

where adventure awaits.

Now, institutions are looking

for a deeper understanding

of the West's Indigenous

cultures and landscape,

which are still vibrant today.

(Jenny)

We have art in this hotel

since the early '20s

up until today.

And it's really interesting

to see how the art has changed,

how the artists have changed.

So this mural depicts

the Santa Fe Trail.

It was done by a woman artist

in the '20s, Dorothy Stauffer,

and it shows the West,

the cactus,

the covered wagons,

the Spanish,

the Catholic priests,

vaqueros, cowboys,

the Santa Fe hills

in the background.

And it's a beautiful depiction

that is at the entrance

to the hotel

that's painted in the '20s.

You know, at that point,

some of the entities that could

afford artists were hotels.

The hotels could afford

to pay the artists to paint.

Any of those women artists

that were out here

were contrarian.

They were independent.

I mean, you wouldn't

get on a train

and move to the Southwest

unless you had that streak,

that creative,

independent streak.

And I think this area

has really benefited

and thrived because of that.

La Fonda is at the steps

of the Native American

Indian Market

that occurs every year

in August.

It's the largest Native American

art market in the world.

And so, many of the award-

winning artists stay with us.

(peaceful music)

Marla Allison painted

the fireplace behind us,

who is an award-winning

Native American artist

from Laguna.

And this fireplace depicts

the embers of the fire

going up the chimney,