Route 66 was designated in 1926 and it's been out in the weather ever since — cracked asphalt, bleached signage, small towns that built themselves around the promise of a highway and kept the faith long after the interstates came. That kind of survival isn't weakness. It's character. The red, white, and blue don't need to be pristine to mean something. They mean more when they've been through something and still standing. America at its most honest doesn't gleam. It endures.
