(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, which is why she has the panels going up.

It's been really incredible to have a piece like Marla Allison's behind us because it's not our interpretation of what we thought a Pueblo woman would do around a fireplace.

It's Marla's interpretation, and her sharing what happens at her own home.

That's a very different voice.

(Jenny) This is another Marla Allison, and she won the ribbon at the Heard Museum.

(Marla) The influence of being able to be an artist from this little place has been quite incredible.

There are beautiful red cliffs of Laguna, which is around the village of Mesita, where I was raised, that are really showing up in all my paintings constantly.

What inspires me from my childhood mostly are the vessels that are pottery.

They're the ceramic art that's from the elder women of my tribe, and from all tribes along the Southwest.

The design work that goes on the outside of these vessels are all very geometric shaped.

I like doing fractal pieces, where they're brushstrokes, but they're very separate planes of color that eventually make up a full spectrum of a subject.

So, I break up the light, in a way.

Laguna Pueblo runs right along Route 66.

There are six villages that are all on either side of the highway.

And now, moving here to California, being here in Santa Monica, it's just amazing to think that this road has been a life path for myself, and for my career, and for many life experiences.

I would always ride my old '75 Ford pickup truck on that road.

And, raised on the Route 66 path, neon signs, classic cars have always been a part of daily life.

In 2016, I was sent an email from a place called the Abu Dhabi Art Hub, which is in Abu Dhabi in the UAE in the Middle East.

I was sent an email saying, "Hey, we're doing our first international Native American artist month," and I thought, "Wow, they want me to apply," so I did, and I got in!

I felt very lucky.

In-between Abu Dhabi and Dubai, there's this one place called Last Exit in the middle of nowhere, desert, just flat desert, and camels, and one highway.

It's a rarity for them, but for me, I thought, "Wow, how beautiful is this?

I get to see my culture in their land of how exotic it can be."

I mean, there were cars, there were food trucks in this place of nowhere's land.

I had no idea it would be there.

It was pretty amazing to see that on the other side of the world.

Route 66 has been a constant tether from home to somewhere else, the main vein that breathes, and shares, and has the blood of so many people and life experiences, and a great history all throughout.

♪ (narrator) Almost 100 years after her birth in 1926, Route 66 is truly a living history classroom that not only reveals where we have been, but where we can go.

(bright music) ♪ (upbeat piano music) ♪ (energetic music)