Bursting the nostalgia bubble

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My old friend Michael and I spent a day last fall exploring old US 40 and the National Road in eastern Illinois. Probably 10 miles of abandoned brick road parallels US 40 between the Indiana line and Marshall. We followed the bricks into a woods, where they were covered by grass growing in a thin layer of black dirt. We climbed down more than one creekbed to look at stone foundations of torn-out bridges. I even drove my car along one section of the road while Michael shot video.

I told Michael that exploring the old roads lets me enjoy imagining a time when drivers took it slow and enjoyed the scenery and people they encountered, something I wished for but found elusive. I said I wished I could hear stories about driving the old roads. Michael said, “I’ll bet Paul Ford knows about this old road. He lives just down the road. Want to meet him?”

Of course I wanted to meet him! Paul Ford is one of Terre Haute’s FM radio pioneers. He built WPFR in 1962 and operated it through the early 1980s. A bit of trivia: Bubba the Love Sponge started his notorious radio career at WPFR after Paul sold it. Later, Paul started building a small network of Christian radio stations that he and his wife of 59 years operate from their home on US 40 a few miles west of the Indiana state line. Michael volunteers at Paul’s stations.

Maybe 100 yards of the brick road runs near Paul’s house, so we stopped there first. Here’s a photo of my car parked on that section, taking up a lot of the road.

Paul dropped everything and sat down with us in his radio studio, which filled his house’s front room. He was tickled to hear that I had worked for WBOW in Terre Haute because he had too, many years before. He told a ton of great radio stories, including getting his first radio job in high school, how hard it was to get advertisers on FM in the 1960s, and how he got to interview former President Truman in Indianapolis just after he left office by going to his hotel and asking. It was great talking with him.

Eventually, I asked him about the brick road. “Oh yes,” he said, “I used to drive on that when it was US 40 about the time my wife and I got married, which was in 1949. It was a dangerous road. People’d get behind a truck, and they’d get impatient as it’d go slowly up the hills. They’d look for a chance to pass, but there were so many curves, and the road was so narrow. Eventually, they’d lose their patience and pass even if it wasn’t safe. There were a lot of bad wrecks on that road.”

I was a jarred by what he said. I thought I’d hear him talk glowingly of Sunday afternoon drives in the sunshine with his family, waving and smiling at people in oncoming cars, stopping at a farm stand for an apple. Instead, I felt the bubble of my idealizations burst. Pop.

As we drove away, I felt unsettled and wondered what made me enjoy following the old road so much if my nostalgic visions were false. But I started thinking of reasons pretty quickly. I enjoyed feeling connected to the National Road’s history, following a path that had been in use for 170 years by generations of people making their way into the Illinois prairies. I also enjoyed seeing the road’s 1920s construction of a cement pad, recessed except for one foot on either side, bricks fitted without mortar. I enjoyed knowing enough general road history to predict that the road probably wasn’t even striped at first – because there were so few cars, people often drove up the middle and moved right when another car approached!

But in the postwar-prosperity years during which Paul drove the road, demand for cars outpaced Detroit’s ability to build them, and cars became faster and more powerful every year. The old roads’ hills and curves weren’t engineered to handle so many cars going so fast. Paul’s memory of the road made perfect sense. US 40 was soon rebuilt straight and wide, and later I-70 was built with four lanes and limited access. Drivers undoubtedly welcomed the new roads without looking back because they could drive much faster and safer.

Reality certainly cast my nostalgia in the proper light. I realized that it represented some things I want from life — peace, a slow pace, and time to enjoy the journey. Even if the old roads never offered that to travelers in their day, I can see that they offer it to me now. On this trip, I got to spend most of the day with a longtime friend. We took it slow on the road, averaging barely 20 miles an hour. We took in the scenery. And I met someone very interesting. Most of my old-road trips turn out this way. The very thing I imagined I missed, I can have today when I go out on the old road. Now that I know that, I will enjoy it much more.

You can read about the whole trip that day on my roads pages.

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Filed under Illinois, Life, Personal growth, Roads, Terre Haute

Tags: National Road, nostalgia, Paul Ford, US 40, WPFR