I didn’t actually try to produce a flashback last week but I thought about it. Because I’d pre-ordered the CD, when Willie Nile released World War Willie back in 2016, I got a digital copy before the actual CD arrived. It was early spring and I took a nice walk around the neighborhood with the new music playing in my ears. The walk and the songs both made an impression. A similar situation existed with New York at Night. A digital version became available before the physical version arrived. My World War Willie introductory walkabout was powered by a 2011 vintage iPod. It still works fine but I no longer have any way to maintain its contents. This time I downloaded the music to my phone and set out to enjoy some fine weather and new music.
I’d previously used the phone for some podcasts and music but had not really mastered its operation. I tapped the first track listed; The phone played it to completion then stopped and waited for me to select another. There’s probably some way to get automatic movement between tracks, but a small screen in bright sunlight did not lend itself to figuring that out. So, as each track ended, I stopped walking long enough to tap the next one in the list. The screen size and bright sun also didn’t exactly help an old man’s eyes read each track name. I just tapped each track in the sequence displayed. Back home, I discovered that the list was not in the intended sequence. I’ve not deduced an actual pattern so maybe it really is random.
I quite enjoyed the warm and sunny walk and even stepped inside a store for the first time in several weeks. It was a United Dairy Farmers store where I bought an ice cream cone to help me get home. I also enjoyed the music and noted some tracks I looked forward to hearing again. But I did not feel the same kick and elation as on that 2016 walk. I started this article by saying I had not set out to intentionally reproduce a flashback. That’s technically true, but I think I must have expected one and was disappointed when it didn’t materialize.
Then the CD arrived. It was in the player when I set out on a drive long enough to hear it all. There was no flashback, but the kick was there and the disappointment was not. There’s no real need to dig for an explanation. Many things — and maybe music most of all — strike us differently for no more concrete a reason than it’s a different day. I’ve thought of some reasons for the difference and most have to do with my personal attitude and the fact that driving was less common than walking during the COVID-19 impacted 2020 while the opposite was true in 2016. But I honestly believe that the different sequences also had something to do with it.
The CD opens with “New York is Rockin'” which is, as you might have guessed, a solid rocker. The rockin’ continues through “The Backstreet Slide” and only lets up slightly with “Doors of Paradise” and “Lost and Lonely World”. It pretty much rocks, in fact, all the way through with a couple of exceptions I’ll get to later. Two of those first four CD tracks were among the first four tunes of the scrambled list on my phone but they are in reversed position. “New York is Rockin'” was the fourth song I heard on my walk and “Lost and Lonely World” was the first. The tone that was set was quite different and I think that walk vs. ride and my state of mind are only partly responsible.
Not only is the album heart-pumpingly uptempo, it is heart-warmingly upbeat. At its own heart, it is a love letter to New York City with the city celebrated in both the opening and title tracks. While I’ve often shared that NYC is not one of my favorite places, I very much recognize its concentration of art, culture, and energy, and it has been Willie’s favorite place for a long long time. He certainly captures that energy as well as anyone, and even makes me wish I appreciated the city more. That’s what happens with images like “Barishnikov is puttin’ on his blue suede shoes” and “Pavarotti’s singin’ up at Carnegie Hall” from “New York is Rockin'”.
“Under This Roof”, which I’d heard previously via an online video, is one of the two non-rockers I mentioned earlier. The album was recorded prior to the COVID-19 isolation and well before the ongoing national outrage triggered by the death of a black man in the custody of police in Minneapolis. Its generally lighthearted tone can be seen as a welcome and hopeful distraction and this tune’s message of love and sanctuary even more so. The other softer track features Willie alone at the piano doing a song, “A Little Bit of Love”, that was born in a conversation with his 102-year-old father.
Nile’s current touring (if only he could) band, Johnny Pisano, Matt Hogan, and Jon Weber, anchors the album but there is plenty of help. Perhaps the most notable comes from Jimi K. Bones, who was with Willie when I saw him most recently, and the Eagles’ Steuart Smith. Also notable, in my opinion, is the listing of not only one but two tabla players (Pisano and Frankie Lee). That’s something you don’t see every day.
As I considered the importance of sequencing, I may have discovered a subtle return to the past or I may be imagining it. Back in the heyday of vinyl, the first and last tracks on each side, often called the “four corners”, were considered important. Assuming a split with a half dozen tracks per side, the four corners of New York at Night are the two songs with New York in their titles, “A Little Bit of Love”, and something called “Run Free” which was recorded in 2003. “Run Free” is one of those rock ‘n’ roll anthems that seem perfect for ending a concert — or an album. Are the “four corners” on this album real or imaginary? Betcha know what I think.
Cyndie Gerken’s third big helping of National Road knowledge was served up a bit more than a year ago, and I have no good excuse, or even enough bad ones, to account for waiting so long to take a look. Of course, once I did, the same accuracy and thoroughness that marked her earlier books were instantly apparent in this one. In 2015, she documented Ohio’s National Road mile markers with
Both of the book’s subjects appeared almost immediately after the National Road passed by the land they would occupy. The first section of the Cliff Rock House was completed in 1830 and the Headley Inn’s first section in 1833. Other dates have appeared in articles and even on signs but Gerken sorts through the various claims and presents a solid case for these dates. Both structures have been enlarged and modified over the years. Despite their nearness to each other, the inns were constructed and operated independently by two separate families. That has not always been the case although it is again today.
It is generally thought that the Headley Inn initially served as a stagecoach stop while the larger Cliff Rock House catered more to drovers herding sheep and other animals to market. That sort of division was never iron clad, of course, but that kind of thinking does serve to justify the two businesses being so close.
Living memory provides even more input to the post-tearoom era and here the living memory is sometimes Gerken’s own although it is more often her personal interviews with the short series of owners. The book is heavily illustrated with historical photos, maps, diagrams, newspaper clippings, and more. Modern photos include many taken by the author herself.
“This is not a book about the history of road-tripping and black travel”, is the first sentence of the last paragraph of the introduction. That’s something I knew long before I read it. It was something Candacy Taylor said early in the presentation I attended in Indianapolis back in February. It may even have been something she said during another presentation of hers I attended back in 2016. I discovered Taylor the same way she discovered the Green Book. Well, not exactly the same way. She learned of the Green Book while doing research for a Moon Travel Guide on Route 66. I learned of Candacy Taylor as a mere attendee at a conference on the historic road. Research for the book was well underway when Taylor spoke at that conference in Los Angeles but Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America was still a concept. It was a reality when she spoke in Indianapolis, and that’s where I acquired my copy.
Overground Railroad is heavily illustrated. Taylor’s research for this project included cataloging and visiting businesses listed in the Green Book, and several of her photographs of sites that remain appear throughout the book. She also includes some personal photos. Numerous historic photos along with reproductions from the Green Book accompany the text. A section in the back of the book lists surviving “Green Book sites” and includes Taylor’s photos of many. It is followed by a section with reproductions of every known Green Book cover other than the very first edition of 1936.









I read this book by accident and belatedly. The accident comes from a spontaneous purchase. The belated reading comes from me not realizing how good it is. I picked the book up back in June of 2018 when I went to hear Mary Stockwell talk on her just-published
There are things that fans of old roads or of transportation history in general falsely assume that everyone knows about. One such item is the continent crossing Motor Transport Corps convoy of 1919. In the summer following the end of the first World War, a group of military personnel and vehicles set off from Washington, DC, to test the nation’s roads all the way to San Francisco. Although he was primarily an observer on the trip, his future accomplishments make Dwight Eisenhower the member of the convoy best-known today. Michael Owen uses the future president’s nickname in naming this telling of his own retracing of the 3,250-mile-long path that some 300 men and 81 vehicles of all shapes and sizes followed a century ago.
US-36 is kind of special to me. It is one of just a handful of US highways with an endpoint in my home state and one of just two that pass through my birth county. It’s even more special to Allan Ferguson. He grew up near the route in Illinois, has ancestral connections to the eastern end in Ohio, and currently lives near its western end in Colorado. It has had a role in much of his life from childhood vacations and visits to relatives to business trips and drives between old and new homes as an adult. Not all of his travels between Colorado and Illinois have been on Route 36. Not surprisingly, his early trips back home were on expressways. At some point, he tried US-36 and came to realize three things. The first was that it took no more time than driving the interstates. Between Denver and central Illinois, the US-36 is quite straight and about 100 miles shorter than either I-70 or I-80. Secondly, it was relaxing rather than stressful. The third thing he realized was that the drive was actually interesting and that realization eventually led to this book.
This book is unusual and unusually good. The Dickens Scenes of the title are those in Cambridge, Ohio, that starred in this blog’s most recent regular weekly post. There are currently 94 of those scenes and each began life as a sketch by a fellow named Bob Ley. Bob is one of a group of writers, known as
The individual photos are not credited but acknowledgments at the front of the book identify Tom Davey and Lindy Thaxton as the photographers. The photos are all quite good and do a nice job of capturing each scene from its best vantage point. Together, the book’s even-numbered (i.e., lefthand) pages make up the sort of catalog often prepared for a museum display. The village really is such a display with the sidewalks of Cambridge forming the museum.
Sometimes I astound my friends with my knowledge, admittedly quite useless, of unusual and obscure roadside attractions. Othertimes I astound myself with my complete ignorance of a major and fairly well-known piece of public art. 