Highway 61 Revisited: A journey along a portion of the blues highway

EDITOR'S NOTE: The following story was compiled from reporter Emily Priddy's travels along the "Blues Highway" for the Southeast Missourian in late April. Priddy typically covers crime and courts for the Southeast Missourian, but also has a passion for music and culture.

A good road trip usually begins with breakfast in a classic diner.

Sands Pancake House, on U.S. 61 at the north end of Cape Girardeau, smells exactly like a diner ought to smell: a comforting mix of cigarette smoke, bacon grease and freshly brewed coffee.

On a damp, chilly Saturday morning, regulars crowd the dining room as a waitress issues a warning about the iced tea: "It's real sweet. I don't want you to get diabetic."

She isn't joking. Proper iced tea must be sweetened as soon as it's brewed, while the liquid is still hot enough to dissolve the sugar, and whoever makes the tea at the Sands knows this. Poured over ice, it serves as a perfect chaser for the plate of fried bologna, biscuits and gravy that will fuel this journey.

The Blues Highway

Commissioned in 1926 -- the same year as the legendary Route 66 -- U.S. 61 bisects the country from Minnesota to New Orleans.

Bob Dylan immortalized the road in his 1965 song "Highway 61 Revisited," and the highway figures into a popular legend about bluesman Robert Johnson, who supposedly sold his soul to the devil for musical talent at the intersection of Highways 61 and 49 in Clarksdale, Miss.

The road's path through St. Louis, Memphis and the Mississippi Delta earned it the nickname "the Blues Highway."

In Southeast Missouri, U.S. 61 -- also designated The Great River Road -- shadows the Mississippi River for most of its length, providing a scenic alternative for travelers heading from Cape Girardeau north to St. Louis or south to Arkansas.

The setting sun is reflected in the windows of an abandoned business on U.S. 61 north of Marston, Mo. (EMILY PRIDDY)

Northbound on 61

North of Cape Girardeau in Old Appleton, an 1879 Pratt truss bridge once carried U.S. 61 across Apple Creek.

The highway was rerouted, and the bridge collapsed during a 1982 flood, but 24 years and more than half a million dollars later, the structure was restored and reopened to pedestrian traffic.

Dawn Melka, co-owner of Apple Creek Studio, a nearby art gallery that opened in January in what was once part of a grain milling operation, said the bridge draws travelers into town.

"They come out to the country to see," she said. "They come down from St. Louis. They're out for the drive, and they stop wherever."

U.S. 61 travelers pass under this 1924 concrete arch on their way across the Missouri-Arkansas state line. (Emily Priddy)

Near the south end of the bridge, the Old Appleton Mercantile sells antiques, including a wide assortment of vintage hardware.

A man's voice sings from a radio inside the store: "I will love you, Lord, with all my strength." Nearby, a book called "Bible Readings for the Home" and a handful of tarot cards coexist atop an electric organ.

Driving up 61, often within sight of the rain-swollen Mississippi River, one can understand the appeal of both the gospel music's reassuring message and the cards' promise of a peek into the future.

Old-fashioned signage, including a vintage light fixture, marks the local police headquarters in Steele, Mo.

At St. Mary, the river makes good on its constant threats, where floodwaters recently forced a detour down a side street. On a bluff north of town, a statue of the Virgin Mary gazes toward the water. Below her, a sign implores, "Mary protect us."

At Bloomsdale, the Dew Drop Inn -- a classic roadhouse built in 1917 as a grain mill before becoming a grocery store, Prohibition-era speak-easy and hardware and sporting-goods store -- boasts a special connection to U.S. 61: In 1936, the workers paving the highway through town stayed in the rooms upstairs.

Flooding forces the closure of U.S. 61 in St. Mary, Mo. (EMILY PRIDDY)

The Dew Drop Inn no longer rents rooms, but owner Debbie Carrow and bartender Jennifer Ditch serve food and drinks with a side of good humor.

"This place can get really interesting," Ditch said, smiling. "The men that were here an hour ago will be back in an hour. They go home and pretend to work, and they'll be back."

Along the highway north of Bloomsdale, spring is in full flower, with blossoms swirling like flocks of white birds around dogwood trees and lilacs blooming along fences.

The idyllic landscape contrasts sharply with the urban sprawl that begins to show up somewhere around Pevely and continues all the way into St. Louis, where 61 crosses historic Route 66 at Watson Road before slipping north to Kirkwood and beyond.

Southbound on 61

Heading south from Cape Girardeau, U.S. 61 crosses the Diversion Channel and merges with I-55 past a slew of pro-life billboards. At Scott City, the road peels away from the interstate and begins winding slowly toward Arkansas.

A pair of banners in Kelso advertises hypnotherapy and local church services; in Benton, parents in cars and SUVs line up to pick up children from a Catholic school.

South of Morley, a barn on the west side of the highway bears the remnants of an advertisement painted on its roof. The paint is long gone, but the ghost of a message remains in the rust: "Millers Mutual Fire Insurance Sikeston Office."

Outside the larger towns, the Blues Highway often lives up to its name, with the vacant windows of long-shuttered businesses staring blankly out at the old road, victims of interstate bypasses, corporate competitors and the ebb and flow of the American economy.

South of Marston, near the junction of highways M, F and 61, a forlorn service station sits, its windows smashed out and its front door off its hinges. Bachelor buttons bloom in front of the ruin.

In Portageville, time has been kinder to Billy's Steakhouse and Lounge, which lists its specialties as "Steaks, Cocktails and Free Advice."

Toby Keith's "I Love This Bar" plays in the background as a man jokes with two pretty waitresses. A stuffed bobcat snarls from a ledge in the bar, and a collection of neon signs advertises everything from beer and baseball to the day and time of the local Rotary Club's meetings.

Behind the bar, an assortment of bumper stickers reveals the proprietor's left-leaning political views and irreverent sense of humor.

Just outside Portageville, U.S. 61 and I-55 merge for a few miles before parting ways again at Steele for the eight-mile run south to the Arkansas border, where a concrete arch built in 1924 marks the state line.

A birdfeeder fashioned from a teacup and saucer hangs from a branch outside Apple Creek Studio in Old Appleton, Mo. The town’s famous Pratt truss bridge is visible in the background.

On the way back to Cape Girardeau, the road offers one last surprise.

In a matter of hours, an old-fashioned carnival has risen in the empty lot behind New Madrid Eagles Aerie 4206.

Children squeal as they race from ride to ride. The Ferris wheel operator grins, catching sight of a camera.

"Want me to stop you at the top so you can get pictures?" he offers.

Aesthetics override acrophobia as the big wheel turns, pausing several times to provide a bird's-eye view of the midway and its vivid, dancing lights.

Music floats through the air. Somewhere below, someone is playing a cover of "Ode to Bille Joe," Bobbie Gentry's mysterious 1967 ballad about a young man's suicide. Incongruous as it may be in this festive setting, the tragic song feels oddly appropriate as twilight gives way to darkness.

The fictional Billie Joe McAlister jumps off the Tallahatchie Bridge.

The Ferris wheel makes another revolution.

Night falls on the Blues Highway.

epriddy@semissourian.com

388-3642

Pertinent address:

Pevely, MO

Portageville, MO