Billy Connolly's Route 66_ The Big Yin on the Ultimate American Road Trip - Billy Connolly [85]
Her mum and dad used to keep horses across the road from one of their two petrol stations, but it was hard to get to them because there were so many cars. A few years later, when Roxann was raising her own kids, they could play ball on the road. Nowadays, you could take a nap on it. You’d only be disturbed when occasional tourists, like me, stopped by to gawp at the ghost town.
‘It must seem very strange to you,’ I said, ‘because you must see your dad and your siblings when you look at this place.’
‘I do, yes. And it’s real sad to watch it crumble.’
‘So, how long did it take for the town to die with the coming of the interstate?’
‘Four or five years, I guess. The Texas Longhorn – a café, station and motel down there – was the last to go.’
For a while, Roxann lived in Glenrio with her husband, Larry, who commuted to their business in Adrian – another petrol station. But in 1976 the gas station was raided and Larry was forced to his knees and shot through the back of his head. The killer went on to murder a second man the same day at another petrol station in the Texas Panhandle.
‘How does it feel to live here all alone?’ I said.
‘I’m used to it. I’m fine with it. I like the peace and quiet.’
Roxann has six dogs to keep her company, but they make the noise of twelve.
‘Do you get visitors? Do any of the old people who used to live here ever come back?’
‘Not really, no, because some are scattered out in the country. There was another house next door and they moved to Lubbock and they never looked back.’
‘So, where do you get your groceries?’
‘I usually go to Amarillo, but for a short trip, if I don’t have that much time, I’ll go to Tucumcari. That’s forty miles.’
‘Well, I really admire you. I really admire your guts. I don’t know if I could do it.’
Roxann showed me some pictures of Glenrio in its heyday. With a barbecue restaurant, various diners, a hamburger joint, several petrol stations and motels, it was a buzzing, vibrant place.
‘They’re all sitting having their dinner and they look like they’re laughing,’ I said, looking at one of the snaps. ‘They all look so happy sitting eating their hamburgers. Little did they know what was going to happen. It just happened in a flash really, didn’t it?’
‘It went downhill fast.’
‘What made you decide to stay?’
‘It’s home!’
We both laughed at the absurdity of it. Roxann is a lovely woman, who doesn’t feel at all blighted by her situation.
‘But don’t you need other people round you to make it a home?’
‘My daughter comes every chance she gets. My son drives for a trucking company and he stops by pretty often. And I like to read, do my garden and sew and mess with the animals.’ Her daughter-in-law couldn’t understand how she could live in Glenrio and wanted her to move to a town, which she thought would be safer. But Roxann said, ‘I don’t think town is safe. I feel safer out here. With my dogs, no one’s walked in that yard in a while without me knowing.’
‘Well, you certainly seem very happy.’
‘I like it here. I plan to stay as long as I’m able.’
‘Why not? You could be the mayor as well, if you like.’
‘People tease me about that. I’m the mayor, the sheriff and everything else.’
‘Postmistress … and, of course, you’re the entire police force as well.’
For a while, Roxann shared the town with a young cowboy, who was living in a deserted building, but he didn’t last long. Now the only regular visitor was a cow that had broken out of a nearby ranch and was harmlessly roaming the streets.
I thought she was a wonderful, brave woman with a brilliant attitude. I’d found another friend.
As she said, this was her home. What more could anyone want?
11
Albuquerque and Tucumcari, Make New Mexico Extraordinary
Glenrio took me into New Mexico, the sixth of eight states I would pass through on Route 66. Extremely beautiful and more than a little mystical, New Mexico is where Route 66’s origin in the cattle tracks