Postcards from Motels - “Beds and Benedictions”
When speaking of Tucumcari, New Mexico, author Jim Hinckley describes it as "a great example of what Route 66 was. What its bypass did to communities. And the future it holds." All of this is perhaps best discovered through the town's motel culture, which in recent years has enjoyed something of a renaissance thanks to pioneering owners who are working hard to reinvigorate these properties while honoring their pasts. Yet beyond the neon glare, people are drawn to these places for their offers of connection. This episode shares a few stories from owners, past and present, about just that, as well as detours to Glenrio, Texas and Needles, California.
TRANSCRIPT
(As this transcript was obtained via a computerized service, please forgive any typos, spelling and grammatical errors)
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Evan Stern: (00:00)
Leaving Texas mere feet from the Panhandle's Western edge, I exit I-40 to pay my respects to what little is left of the town of Glenrio. Founded in 1903, It was never a large place, but Michael Wallis tells me he's never forgotten pulling in here in 1966,
Michael Wallis: (00:19)
I was hitch hiking and I got a ride with a trucker who pulled in there, and it was about close to midnight, and it looked like Times Square. There were people refueling cars, refueling their bodies, drinking coffee. There was a whole line of sailors and service guys lined up at the payphone there. I remember there was a woman over there nursing her baby. They were, it was just going and blowing. And that's, that's the way it, it, it was a lot of times, I'll never forget that.
Evan Stern: (00:59)
Straddling two states, back then townspeople got their gas at the filling station in Texas where taxes were cheap before buying beer a few yards over in New Mexico where the blue laws were loose. Weary travelers could count on a night of rest at the Longhorn Motel whose sign depending on which side you faced announced it as either the first or last stop in Texas, it was owned by Mr. And Mrs. Ehresman. And Michael tells me he can still taste the rhubarb pie they dished out at their adjoining State Line Cafe. Its shell is still there as is what had been the Little Juarez and Post Office. But apart from the occasional road runner or barn owl, life in Glenrio has pretty much evaporated. Standing with my feet in two different time zones, I can hear the buzzing of semis passing in the distance and in this moment, find freeway a strange word as I 40 clearly cost this town a great deal. Michael says, It was taken by death by Interstate and Jim Hinckley, who dedicated a book to the Route's Ghost Towns, is no less romantic.
Jin Hinckley: (02:07)
Things change. It's a sad state of affairs. Glenrio is a real tragic story. People based their lives there. That was their, their hopes, their their dreams, their future. It dried up and blew away.
Evan Stern: (02:21)
Reminders of broken dreams litter much of Route 66 and are present 45 miles down the road in Tucumcari as well. But remnants of the Golden Age also survive as does hope.
Jin Hinckley: (02:35)
Tucumcari is a, a great symbol of what Route 66 was. What its bypass did to communities, especially rural communities and the future it holds. The evidence is glaring when you drive down the Route 66 corridor that the town is faded. It's had some, you know, a hard hit. Uh, they lost about, uh, third of their population in 20 years after the town was bypassed. But the Route 66 Renaissance is, is leading people from all the United States to buy vintage motels and restore them, uh, restaurants. And, uh, it's the past present and the future.
Evan Stern: (03:13)
This renaissance is what we'll explore today by speaking with a few such innkeepers who are helping to shape the Route's future by honoring and vivifying its past with the sensibilities of our present. I'm Evan Stern and this is Vanishing Postcards.
Larry Smith: (04:22)
You come through the Texas panhandle, but you really, something happens when you cross over from Texas into New Mexico and the sky opens up and it's just the landscape becomes beautiful and Tucumcari's that first town you, you hit and it's, it's a, it's a, it's a special place. It's is truly iconic.
Dave Brenner: (04:43)
It's, it's a blast from the past, from the moment you drive off the highway. The town took the name of the mountain in the early 1900s, um, and the mountain's name comes from an Indian word. It's either Comanche or Apache. Uh, that either means a place to lie and wait as in, to ambush or a, a prominent landmark.
Evan Stern: (05:06)
While I don't know how many ambushes have taken place in recent years, it is true that Tucumcari very much remains a place to lie and wait. The largest town of significance between Amarillo and Albuquerque, for years signs along 66 urge motorists to push on to "Tucumcari tonite," where you could have your choice of hamburgers, petrol, and accommodations.
Larry Smith: (05:28)
So yeah, there were over 2000 rooms at, at its peak. And, uh, that was, you know, fifties and sixties when, you know, motels were just springing up everywhere. I mean, every single block in this town had, you know, motel, restaurant, shop, bar, gas station, neon, everywhere. And uh, it just became- A lot of people have compared it to like a small scale Las Vegas even-
Evan Stern: (05:52)
I'm told Tucumcari now claims about half the rooms it once boasted before it was bypassed. But while abandoned lodges like the Apache Paradise and Relax Inn still punctuate this town's main drag, arriving here still feels like entering a poster from the 1950s. Driving in, I'm met by a fiberglass steer atop the sign for Dell's restaurant, while I notice an illuminated stallion over the Palomino across the street. The next blocks bring me past the Golden Dragon Buffet, famed Teepee Curios Gift Shop and La Cita restaurant whose entrance is crowned by an oversized painted concrete sombrero. Larry Smith drove down this street as well back in the mid nineties and was so taken by what he saw, he ended up moving here five years ago.
Larry Smith: (06:40)
Well, I think just, just the neon, the lights and the, the, it had a feel. Um, there's a vibe and it still has that there's a nostalgia. There is the, uh, just the cultural significance. It has the 66, just the history and some of it, even, even if buildings are gone, you just feel that presence of the past that's here, that kinda permeates through everything else that's still here today. I think that's what's, I think that's what sets this town apart from, cuz there's plenty of towns on 66 and some really cool towns, but Tucumcari, even with so much gone, it still has that feel to it. People still wanna come here and spend the night and experience the town.
Evan Stern: (07:25)
One of the many places people can choose to stay here is the Motel Safari, which Larry Bought and took over in 2017. A cheerful, single story, futurist property, Its cinder block exterior is decorated with colored, oozing bricks and painted ads touting camels as the cigarette of choice among doctors.
Larry Smith: (07:45)
Each business that's, that is still here at this point, is very, very important. So the fact that this motel has stood its ground while others have crumbled around it, that's important and it's here, it's survived for a reason. And, um, I think I'm, I'm fortunate to have found it at the right time and to have been able to come in and do my part.
Evan Stern: (08:12)
The Safari has experienced many cycles since Chester Doer opened it in 1959. And for Larry, this place has a certain magnetism. A casual scruffy faced, blue eyed Tennesseean, he was working for the Scripps Network when a friend nonchalantly shared a Facebook post that the place was for sale. And while the idea felt more than foolish at first, something about it kept calling him back.
Larry Smith: (08:38)
I mean, it was a very drastic, very immediate change. So, yeah, it, so it took a while for me to get in a groove. Well, or I can say it this way, My worst day here is still better than just a typical day doing what I was doing. I was completely, utterly unhappy. I mean, just misery doing what I was doing the last few years. Me sitting at a desk just spreadsheets and Skype meetings and just, just corporate-y stuff. It's, it's soul sucking, it's mind numbing, it's terrible. I'd rather have a little risk, a little adventure and little uncertainty I think is way better than just having everything laid out, um, perfectly for the rest of your life. So it's better
Evan Stern: (09:37)
Indeed, F Scott Fitzgerald got it terribly wrong when he wrote, "There are no second acts in American Lives." Change is a defining characteristic of everyone I meet in Tucumcari and Chicago Couple, Robert and Dawn Federico seem to be enjoying theirs across the street at the Blue Swallow, whose glowing sign remains one of the most photographed sites along Route 66
Rob Federico: (10:02)
Boy. Um, four years ago we were doing the, uh, I don't wanna say the standard nine to five, but we were both, uh, we both had corporate jobs. Um, I guess you can stay, we were Stable Mabel. Um, we'd go to work, come home, cut our grass, um, involve ourselves in the community, had great friends. We had a pretty set plan of how our, our life was supposed to go. Well, you know what? Sometimes you better look at things and you better- what is it Patton used to say? Um, general Patton- "Plan, plan, plan, and then take the plan, throw it out the window and reorganize." And we always wanted to drive, um, through this part of the country because for work, we flew over it hundreds of times. So instead of flying home from Tucson, we decided to hop on and get a car and drive that car home.
Rob Federico: (10:53)
And what we found, what we found, um, a lot, and that's how we discovered, um, the Route 66 it's how we discovered parts of America we flew over for years and how we discovered Tucumcari. We never stayed here before we were actively involved to purchase it. We trespassed because the Blue Swallow was closed for the season. So the lights were on. Um, and we walked through taking some pictures, enjoying the, uh, the glow of the neon and a nice crisp, uh, January, um, evening. And as we were walking on through, um, the feel my wife said was, "This is a happy place. I can hear and see people laughing here." Um, we stayed in Tucumcari one night. We got in our car and we drove home. I would've not thought that we would be here. Um, a year and a half, two years later. I, I go back to Covid.
Rob Federico: (11:49)
We were all in our homes. We were all hunkering down, we're flattening the curve. Well, what my wife was doing was she was also, um, keeping herself motivated and she was looking at one of the last vacations we went on last trip. So we went on and some of the pictures and trying to think of a happier time because heck, we don't know what tomorrow was gonna bring because we're in Covid. So we were trying to be positive. And she said, "Hey, would you believe the happy place in Tucumcari is for sale?" So we used the Blue Swallow as a carrot for us to keep positive during those hard times.
Evan Stern: (12:22)
The Federicos ended up buying that carrot in June of 2020. And while the work has been hard, Rob says it's proven in honor.
Rob Federico: (12:30)
Um, I will say this, there are many, many stories and many people who come through this door that humble me. And if I'm not humbled every day, then I'm not listening to my guests.
Evan Stern: (12:41)
Their friend and neighbor, David Brenner, whose Road Runner Lodge sits about a block away, has been here a little while longer. A Dallas native who still works in tech, he tells me that living on 66 wasn't entirely his idea at first.
Dave Brenner: (12:55)
Well, once again, my wife at the time, she wanted a business on Route 66. She had done several trips. Uh, she had fallen in love with it and she said, I want a business on Route 66. At first she said she wanted a restaurant and I look at restaurant owners and I'm like, I don't wanna work that hard. So, so we were looking at other options. Um, we were actually negotiating on a place in Holbrook, Arizona. Uh, and that deal fell through. And this one showed up about four months after that, uh, at the right time at the right price. And, here we are,
Evan Stern: (13:34)
Eight years later, he and his French bulldogs are still here. And excitedly tells me he now regards Tucumcari as home and believes in the promise of its future. And when he tells me of the challenges he faced in remodeling this 1964 property, I can't help but stand in awe of his scrappiness.
Dave Brenner: (13:52)
Oh my gosh, this place was falling apart. Okay, so that's why I said at the right price, right, right time, right price. That's because the wind would blow and more shingles would go with it. Uh, it was a derelict property. There were signs that vagrants had been living inside here. Yeah, when I got here, there was no power. Uh, the water had been turned off and every time we would turn it on, we'd, uh, see the meter was running. So turn it back off, go find the leak and fix it. Uh, all of the rooms actually looked pretty much the way they did when whoever was here before us just got up and left town, the the towels were hanging on the racks, the beds were made. It was the, even the front desk had a pin and a registration card sitting on it, waiting for the next guest to show up.
Dave Brenner: (14:49)
They just popped outta here. I did have times where I was, I would think of the number of open items on the project list and just get bogged down, couldn't move forward. And that's when, um, if it weren't for the help of John Mim, who used to be a city commissioner here, he was a good friend. He passed away a few years ago. Uh, but he would show up and he would say, All right, which room is closest to being ready? And we'd say, Hi, Room 20. Uh, he's like, All right, let's go to room 20. Let's go get something done. And if it weren't for his encouragement one little bit at a time, uh, it would've taken quite a bit longer. I think for us to get past that hump.
Evan Stern: (15:35)
This hard work has clearly paid off as no dereliction is evident in entering my immaculate room, which is something of a shrine to mid-century America. Original cover art for the game. Twister decorates the walls. A Magic Eight Ball sits on a coffee table next to some welcoming moon pies and a radio playing a loop of old commercials. I also discovered that by popping a quarter into the Magic Fingers device, I can turn my bed into an electronic massager for 15 minutes
Dave Brenner: (16:05)
At Road Runner Lodge. When you make your reservation, that's when your trip to the sixties begins. And when I say a trip to the sixties, I'm not saying you come in and you step into an old room. No, you step into a brand new room in the 1960s. We have the lights on, we have the music playing. When you step into that room, it gives you a hug. It's welcoming you.
Evan Stern: (16:28)
I get this same feeling from my room at the Safari as well, which Larry takes equal care in maintaining. He says, these businesses all reflect the personality of their owners. And having built suites honoring Rockability diva, Wanda Jackson and Tucumcari's cowboy culture, his imprint on the place is apparent. But the fingerprints of his predecessors reside here as well. He tells me about Richard and Gale who revived the property and Ronald and Arlene Fray, who raised five kids here in the sixties. David tells me about Agnes Leatherwood, who built what is now the Road Runner. And Rob has nothing but reverence for all who have steered the Blue Swallow since 1939.
Rob Federico: (17:11)
We are all people who cared for the motel, but everybody cared for it. And you'll hear stories about every owner from, you know, the Route 66 crews, the travelers. And the stories I hear always come back to this. Everybody cared for this place to the point where it's still open to this day. So if you want to hear what I think about the history and the owners, I think they're all special. Um, because look, we're still talking about it
Evan Stern: (17:46)
Still, one owner in particular continues to occupy a position of legend in 66 folklore.
Rob Federico: (17:52)
Lillian Redman. You know that she was gifted the motel on her wedding night by her husband Floyd. Whoa, right off the bat. This was not just a business for her, this was her home. This was a gift she stayed from the mid 1950s all the way to 1996. That to me is what's significant.
Evan Stern: (18:14)
Born in 1909, Lilian Redman came with her family to New Mexico from Texas in a covered wagon and worked for years waitressing as a Harvey girl before meeting her love Floyd. Each night at dusk, she'd flip on her blue neon sign, whose flashing birds beckoned travelers like a lighthouse.
Rob Federico: (18:32)
My understanding of the blue swallow, it symbolizes coming home. Um, if you look in the nautical terms and if you follow past nautical history, um, sailors have always revered the blue swallow because, well, you know, the Blue Swallow, um, doesn't have the metabolism to go far out to sea. They have to remain close to land. Um, so when you saw a blue swallow, it signified coming home.
Evan Stern: (18:53)
Miss Redman worked tirelessly to ensure the blue swallow fulfilled this symbolism. And while welcoming duties kept her in Tucumcari, she once said, "I end up traveling the highway in my heart with whomever stops here for the night." When the traffic dried up, she admitted, "I felt like I lost an old friend." But being a Frontierswoman, she stuck it out. And when I asked Rob if he could ask her any questions, he said he'd be happy just to let her talk.
Rob Federico: (19:22)
Oh, I wouldn't ask her anything. I think she'd have enough to tell me. I heard this, uh, um, from a woman in town, she's a waitress in town, Her mother was Lilliane's caretaker, um, in some of her final days. And uh, what Lillian would say was, I'm an, "I'm an antique honey, but I'm a good one. I come with stories." So I think I would just listen.
Evan Stern: (19:46)
I trust as well that her stories would be rich as she never turned anyone away, accepting personal items like bowling balls for payment and sometimes nothing at all. I recognize this same spirit 700 miles away in Rosie Ramos at Fender's River Resort in Needles, California.
Rosie Ramos: (20:04)
We weren't a wealthy family, we were not a wealthy family. When I was growing up, there was six kids and my parents, and my parents worked for the church and for the Catholic school. We may not have had much, but my parents gave a lot. And I don't mean financially or in any other way, but I just mean they just gave a lot. They gave people a lot no matter who they were, what they were doing. Um, if somebody needed a floor to sleep on that, you know, there were times I'd wake up and there'd be somebody sleeping on our living room floor. And I'm like, "Mom, who's that?" "Oh, your dad wants to help this guy out." You know, so there's some stranger sleeping in our house because my dad had this huge heart wanting to help this person have a better life or whatever. And he did.
Rosie Ramos: (20:55)
And after seeing that, it kind of made me feel, well- I don't, it doesn't make me feel anything. It just happens. Mm-hmm. just happens. It just comes naturally because we know that the blessing's on the other end. So it doesn't matter if they tell you thank you or not because there's somebody out there that knows what you're doing and you're gonna be blessed in your own way. And I think I am. I think I am. I'm 62 years old and I'm blessed. I know thousands of people I would've never met if I hadn't have moved here. I can tell you of a gentleman from New York State that was riding his bicycle in the summer and he stumbled upon us and came in and just took a seat right inside my office store. And I proceeded to give him what I could, fluids and what have you.
Rosie Ramos: (21:46)
And I knew I saw his bicycle and I was like, Oh my gosh, poor man is riding his bicycle through the desert in 115 degrees or whatever it was that day. It was triple digits. And so I gave him a room here and he says, No, no, no. My um, I have some people that reserved a room in town for me. And I said, Okay, do you want to go? You know, cause you're more than welcome to go, but I'm offering you a room here. And he goes, No, I'm gonna stay here. And he couldn't go any further. He was just so exhausted and dehydrated. And we, and so I set him up with a room here and we're, we're still friends. Years later, we're still friends, we're still connected. And not too long ago we had a Rick Shaw come through, uh, a young man from Japan that, that's his living, that's how he makes his living in Tokyo is uh, pulling a Rick Shaw.
Rosie Ramos: (22:44)
And he came pulling a Rick Shaw from Santa Monica and stayed here for a couple nights, which was pretty amazing. And he, I went and showed him the room and he just flopped down on his back on the bed and he goes, This is beautiful. This is beautiful, this is beautiful. And I'm looking at him with tears in my eyes and he was like, "Oh, my first bed in America." And I was like, What? You have not, you've been on the road for days, days and days and you have not slept in a bed? He goes, Oh no, I sleep in a tent on the, on the ground. And this was his first bed in America. And I was like, brought tears to my eyes cuz I was like, Oh my God.
Evan Stern: (23:25)
A brown haired Texan with red lipstick, Rosie has been managing this desert outpost now for 13 years. She tells me she's here most every day from eight till seven, and recently went 14 months without a break. But she doesn't complain and says she draws great energy from the people she serves here. Dave, Larry and Rob seem to concur with this as well.
Rob Federico: (23:48)
It's the people that is the interesting part in why you wake up every day. Um, you meet wonderful people. Not a lot of people are coming into the blue swallow because they are, um, most are on vacation or they're looking to come here. They're not traveling on a stressful journey. Um, staying in a hotel away from their family for the night. Ha maybe having to see a disgruntled client or their boss tomorrow for an interview. Um, they're traveling around and this is the destination. They're happy to be here. And that transcends and it does, and it makes my job easy.
Evan Stern: (24:23)
I for one admittedly shutter at the long hours maintenance and stress involved in motel ownership and am sobered by the labor all of these people put in. But I also catch a glimmer of its joy sitting around the fire pit at the safari. Larry cracks open a beer while his pet boxer Sam lies down and warms herself. A couple from North Carolina, pour me some Bordeaux in a plastic cup, while an old man from Michigan pulls up a chair volunteering his suggestions for Santa Fe. As I understand, this happens all the time. It's also something I've never experienced at a Holiday Inn, which is why Jim Hinckley favors resting stops like these.
Jin Hinckley: (25:00)
It, it's just astounding. You, you visit with people and, uh, there's a personal touch that you do not get at a chain motel. Route 66 is personal. You stop at the Blue Swallow Motel and you're sitting around the fire at night making s'mores with some guy playing Star Spangled Banner from on a, on bagpipes from Scotland. And then here's some, a Dutch guy and a, and here's some people celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. And then three days later you meet the same people at the Grand Canyon and you end up having dinner together. And there's a, there's a personal touch, a connection I think that we really are lacking and, and Route 66 provides
Evan Stern: (25:38)
Being solo. I appreciate this offer of connection and despite a foggy morning leave Tucumcari the next day somehow feeling safer. As if I'm meant to be where I am on this crazy odyssey after all. I feel closer to this road- less like a tourist, more like a traveler, which more than the neon is why I gather many consciously or not are drawn to stay here today. Route 66 is about the journey. The Federicos, David, Rosie and Larry all know this, so did Lillian Redman, who in addition to clean rooms, warm beds and coffee, met each guest with a personal benediction-
Rob Federico: (26:22)
The understanding is, uh, Lilian always had a Bible on her desk. Um, and this was where she stayed for over 40 years, um, greeting guests as they came in the door. Um, there was a card on the check in counter and it was her benediction. And it says,
Lillian Redman: (26:38)
In ancient times, there was a prayer for “The Stranger Within our Gates.” Because this motel is a human institution to serve people, and not solely a money-making organization, we hope that God will grant you peace and rest while you are under our roof. May this room and motel be your “second” home. May those you love be near you in thoughts and dreams. Even though we may not get to know you, we hope that you will be as comfortable and happy as if you were in your own house. May the business that brought you this way prosper. May every call you make and every message you receive add to your joy. When you leave, may your journey be safe. We are all travelers. From “birth till death,” we travel between the eternities. May these days be pleasant for you, profitable for society, helpful for those you meet, and a joy to those you know and love best.
Lillian Redman: (26:38)
Sincerely yours, Lillian Redman....
