Springfield --> St. Louis: Hop Back In Anytime

Today's post is long - mostly because Rich Henry and his rabbits deserve it - so we'll keep the introduction short. Those who live and work along Route 66 in Illinois are well-connected to and proud of one another and their road.

The Oldest Drive-Thru Window
We began the Springfield to St. Louis leg of our trip at Maid Rite Sandwich Shop, home of the longest-running drive-thru window in the country. Open since 1924, the green and white striped structure is today surrounded by name brand fast food joints and discount stores. Despite sitting several miles from downtown Springfield, an arguably mild center city itself, Maid Rite was full of customers at 11:00am on a Monday. Joe ordered the "Cheese Rite," a sloppy-joe inspired sandwich with relish and yellow mustard, and I devoured a vanilla float made with homemade root beer. As we stood to leave, the manager (Sam Quaisi) - having recognized us as travelers by the Cannon ribbon around my neck – asked us to sign his guestbook. In a fading accent from perhaps somewhere in the Middle East, Sam proudly explained each of Maid Rite’s claims to fame – the oldest drive-thru window, the little steamed, “loose meat” sandwich, and homemade root beer – marked as such with masking tape on the soda fountain. “Tell them you came from Springfield,” Sam said about similar diner owners down the Route, “You’ll get a free root beer.”

Dancing Corn Dogs
Traveling south away from Springfield on 6^th Street, we turned into Ed Waldmire’s namesake, the Cozy Dog Drive-In. The building’s façade welcomes guests with a 20-foot mural of Route 66 and placards from every state along the road. Ed and his friend invented the corn dog in a USO kitchen in Amarillo while serving in the Air Force. Today, Ed’s daughter-in-law and grandsons run the restaurant, which is plastered wall-to-wall with Route 66 memorabilia and dancing hot dogs. Dividing the diner in two halves, the Ed Waldmire Memorial Library displays the dusty spines of philosophy, religion, and history books that Ed collected over a lifetime and which were once housed in an old Route 66 Visitor’s Center in Arizona.

Rich Henry's Rescued Rabbits
Several miles before we reached an old Route 66 alignment in Stanton, Illinois, we began to see mustard-yellow signs of a black rabbit and the words “Hare It Is!” Soon, we approached the property of Rich and Linda Henry, an acre of rusting classic cars, 18-foot trailers spray painted with “Humping to Please,” a small 66 souvenir shop, and no less than half a dozen rabbits that Rich rescued from miserable lives. “Where you from?” Rich asked us from behind the counter, where he was providing some legal or administrative guidance to a willowy, tattooed man. “Look around, take some pictures,” he said. “Big Red there – there in the back – is pretty photogenic if you get him to look’atcha.”

Joe and I selected a few souvenirs and snapped some pictures of the rescued rabbits before asking the willowy man to take our picture with Rich. “Just tryin’ to make some money to feed my rabbits,” he said with a smile after the man left. We spent the next half hour talking to Rich about his rabbits and the Route. Big Red, the giant, salmon colored rabbit pictured below, “chose” Rich when he volunteered at the open house of a local animal shelter. Since then, Big Red has sat on the shop’s counters – taking the place of departed Montana, Rich’s old black rabbit that ran for president in 2008. While never adopting Montana’s aspirations for political office, Big Red still provides a significant “bunny bump” in the polls for those local candidates he chooses to support. When not on the counter, Big Red rests in a cage that could rival our four-star accommodations in Springfield or plays in an outside enclosure with Rich’s other rescues. “It makes me sick,” Rich said, talking about the conditions from which these animals came.

As we and a British couple – also traveling Route 66 westward – lined up to pay for our goods, Rich warned us all not to stop at the Harvest Trading Post down the route. “They’re radicals,” he said, “They come out and yell at you for taking pictures. I don’t know this, cause they’re down the road from me. But my friend down the road does.” Rich explained his network of friends all along the Route, who share daily updates about conditions and happenings with one another. As we opened the door to leave, Rich offered a big smile and said “Hop back in anytime!”  

Everyone's From Route 66
Just before St. Louis, we left Old Route 66 to drive to a dead-end where the Chain of Rocks Bridge is open only to pedestrian and bicycle traffic. We took the detour but for no other reason than every Route 66 travel guide said we should. By this time, we were so hungry we began to dip stale pretzel rods in Funk’s maple sirup as we walked to the bridge for a couple photos. “There used to be an amusement park on the other side,” a man in a ragged Hanes shirt and jean shorts said, holding onto his girlfriend’s hand. “They shut down the last ride in 1993 because some destructive folks were hangin’ ‘round here.”

We told the man were traveling Route 66 and asked if he was from the area. “Born and raised,” he said, raising his shoulders a bit. “You’re from Route 66 too,” he said to his girlfriend. “She’s from Minnesota.”