I'd been walking the shoulder of Route 66 with a camera for the better part of an hour, doing the thing I do in these little towns, which is stand too long in front of buildings other people are happy to drive past. She was leaning against a green Blazer with her daughter beside her, a girl of twelve or so who'd reached the age where a parent's errands feel like a sentence to be served. The woman watched me a while before she asked why I was taking pictures. There was no edge to it, which isn't always the case with a stranger photographing a town that's seen better days. She just wanted to know.

A visit with a legend of Route 66