Picnics, Pit Stops and Potty Breaks
A brief history of America’s Rest Areas
Sometime in the late 1920s, Allan Williams was driving along a rural county highway when he came upon an amusing scene. A traveling family had parked its car in a shady spot near a small pond and was attempting to enjoy a peaceful picnic lunch. Only no one appeared remotely relaxed.
The harried mother hovered over a tree stump she was using as a makeshift table, trying to fit one more serving dish on top without knocking several others off. With no place to sit and eat, a child sat cross-legged on the grass, eating her sandwich while keeping a watchful eye on an approaching squirrel. A few yards away, another child was awkwardly perched on a large rock, his plate sliding off his lap. Meanwhile, the father stood nearby and danced a kind of jig, balancing several plates and glasses in his arms while attempting to shovel a forkful of food into his mouth.
Williams simply smiled and drove on. But the scene stayed with him. After all, he wondered, shouldn’t travelers have convenient places to pull off the road and take a break? Somewhere to get out, stretch the legs and grab a bite to eat after driving long miles of bumpy roads?
While the notion may have occurred to others, Williams held a position in which he could do something about it. As a young engineer and manager for the road commission in Ionia County, Michigan, it was Williams’ job to make the roads in his jurisdiction safe and pleasant for motorists.
Months later, opportunity presented itself. Williams found himself holed up in a county garage with an idle snow plowing crew, awaiting the arrival of an expected snowstorm. Rather than fritter away the time playing gin rummy, Williams set his men to work on a project. Using odd lengths of two-by-four scrap lumber piled in a corner, Williams directed his crew to knock together a few simple picnic tables. Finding some leftover paint, the men brushed a thick coat of pine green on each.
When spring came, Williams had his crew load the tables on a truck and drive them out to a scenic spot he picked out along Route 16, three miles south of the village of Saranac. The tables were neatly arranged on a patch of grass in the shade of some sturdy oaks, within clear sight of passing motorists.
Not long afterward, a trickle of letters began to arrive on the desk of B.C. Tiney, Chief Maintenance Engineer of the Michigan State Highway Department. Each had been sent by a delighted traveler, lauding the department for its thoughtfulness in providing such a welcoming picnic spot. Confused, Tiney looked into the matter. Learning what Allan Williams had done, Tiney decided he liked the idea — not to mention the attention it brought his department. He authorized the establishment of more roadside picnic sites along Michigan highways.
Word traveled fast, as you might expect of an idea spread mainly by tourists, and soon states across the nation got to work creating their own roadside stops for weary travelers.
In the blink of an eye, “rest areas” became as common along America’s highways as patrol cars and road kill.
Highway to Help
Technically, the first rest areas weren’t known as such at all. They were called “roadside parks” or “waysides”. The transition to a new term didn’t occur until planning began for construction of America’s interstate highway system in the late 1950’s. Even then, such off-road refuges were officially designated Safety Rest Areas.
As the term implies, Safety Rest Areas (SRAs) were included along the interstates as much to offer motorists a safe place to pull off the road in the event of emergencies or mechanical issues as they were to offer road-weary travelers a place to enjoy picnic lunches and use the toilet.
In outlying areas, the interstates would offer few exits. It would also be years before businesses such as restaurants and service stations would spring up in significant numbers along their sides. In some regions, motorists might travel hundreds of miles without encountering any visible sign of civilization or assistance. SRAs were intended to help fill that void.
In 1958, the planners of the interstate highway system issued a policy document spelling out a standardized basic layout for Safety Rest Areas. In general, each SRA was to consist of a main building providing toilet facilities and a drinking fountain, a separate picnic shelter, a kiosk to provide basic travel information and a large parking lot. Freeway-type entrance and exit ramps were to be built to provide safe and easy access, without requiring motorists to actually leave the restricted space of the interstate. Finally, the SRA’s were to be staffed or visited regularly by state employees to ensure proper maintenance of the facilities and to render any necessary assistance to motorists.
But while federal policy dictated how SRAs should be constructed and function, it offered no guidelines on how the buildings should look. This meant the aesthetic design of the facilities was left largely up to state officials and the architects they hired. As federal funding for SRA’s was continually slashed, and the burden of paying for their construction shifted to the states, local decision makers gained even more creative latitude. The results were often charming, sometimes quirky, and, in some instances, nothing less than dazzling.
From Public Facilities to Public Relations
In the days before the interstates, road travel was a much more leisurely proposition. Motorists navigated the country on two-lane highways snaking from one tiny hamlet to the next. Stops and slow-downs at crossroads and intersections were common. Upon entering a town, traffic could back up for any number of reasons, from a slow-moving wagon making deliveries to a community festival in the central square. Travelers might also make their own decision to stop and buy fresh produce at a roadside stand or to enjoy a sit down meal at a local cafe or diner.
It made for slow going. But it also offered tourists the chance to look around and absorb the local flavor, with each region and community leaving its own indelible impression.
The construction of the interstates changed all that. By their very design, the new superhighways minimized motorists’ contact with the world beyond their shoulders. To keep traffic moving at top speed, intersections were eliminated, and access via exits and on-ramps limited. The faster travel speeds demanded that drivers keep their eyes on the road ahead rather than the scenery off to each side. Even when travelers could cast a glance off the interstate, they were able to see far less.
Part of the reason was that the new superhighways took road travel to a whole new level. In order to promote rainwater runoff and prevent flooding, the interstates were elevated well above the surrounding landscape. It meant motorists now traveled over the country rather than through it. In a very real sense, travelers could cross vast swaths of America without ever really seeing or experiencing a thing.
This notion wasn’t lost on state officials in the early 1960s. But they realized there was one place where they could still make an important impression on the growing number of travelers passing through their borders — the rest areas they built and controlled. Once relegated to the duty of simple public facility, rest areas in many areas were promoted to the role of state ambassadors.
The elevated status of rest areas was often reflected in their aesthetic design. Rest area architects increasingly viewed the projects as important venues for showcasing a region’s rich culture, history and vision for the future. The designs they created often reflected building styles common in the area, using noteworthy local building materials — signature types of stone in the Midwest and Northeast, heavy timber in the Northwest, adobe in the Southwest and so on.
Inside, artistic tile mosaics on the walls became a popular way of sharing the traditions, activities and themes unique to an area. Outside, commemorative plaques and kiosks often told the stories of significant historical events that took place nearby.
Planners didn’t always look to the past for inspiration. Sometimes they chose to cultivate more progressive perceptions of their state by sampling from popular modern trends. In the mid-1960s, these included low horizontal structures with flat or butterfly roofs, decorative screen block entrances and open interior spaces with severe geometric lines. During the 1970s, modernist trends veered toward rectangular buildings with tall, vertically sloped, low-hanging shingled roofs.
Rest areas also became important venues for large-scale pieces of public art. In some cases, the buildings themselves became works of art. Some of the most noteworthy examples are scattered America’s southwest, where rest area designers transformed simple picnic shelters into giant teepees, oil derricks, stylized longhorn cattle, rockets and other symbols of local industries and heritage.
In performing their function as state ambassadors, rest areas, as the years passed, assumed another role as well — that of cultural custodians, capturing and safeguarding the past, present and even future aspirations of a region and its people at a particular moment in time. Unfortunately, it’s likely that rest areas’ own time may be coming to an end.
Left By The Roadside
As our interstate highways have become more built-up and technology has advanced, the need for rest areas today just isn’t what it used to be.
With another McDonald’s or Wendy’s waiting just a few miles down the road, few travelers pack picnic lunches anymore.
Smartphones have dispensed with the need to stop and ask directions. Safer and more reliable vehicles mean breakdowns are far less common. And if anyone has to use the restroom, well, if they can hold it until the next exit, there will be a Starbucks where you can pick up coffee too.
Of course, rest areas will always have some place along our highways. Along remote stretches, rest areas still offer weary travelers a welcome break when needed, with the added convenience of not having to stray off the interstate. At state borders, large and modern “Welcome Centers” will likely always await visitors to dispense information on local attractions and offer helpful guidance.
But as state budgets grow ever tighter, and aging rest area facilities became more costly to maintain, it’s not hard to guess what will become of the classic SRA’s from America’s golden years of road travel. And as we move on down the road, it’s only natural to feel a little wistful for the things we leave behind.
