In front of the Sunset, a rusted refrigerator with an old ammunition box on top shimmers in the morning heat. Later in our travels, I find an old postcard of this place. In the pale yellow walls and manicured lawn, I find a subtle form of elegance that has been long discarded. Back on the road, near the Meramec Caverns, we spy the remnants of Ozark Court . The sign stands atop a rusty iron pole next to a brick wall.
Weeds climb one of the doors in a form of organic ornamentation.
The office is filled with lumber suggesting that this motel is being renovated. One story tells how the Ozark was once owned by a retired cop who created a speed-trap town here with himself as Justice of the Peace. That financial savvy has not been lost to today's route 66 survivors. Business of all types cling to the most tenuous links to this old stretch of highway. Along with the expected motels and truck stops, we find convenience stores, car dealerships, and even a consignment shop that has named itself after the mother road.