How Route 66 Changed the Culture of Edmond (1926-1929)

By Amy Dee Stephens

Major Topics: 

• Life in Edmond, 1926
• Route 66: the Slow Growing Highway
• Edmond’s Traffic Problems Ramp Up
• Welcoming Motorists
• A Changed Town

This article is dedicated to A.D. Dailey, The Edmond Sun editor from 1905-1937.

LIFE IN EDMOND, 1926

Edmond Experiences Revival After WWI

A century ago, Edmond was ringing in the New Year of 1926. According to the front-page editorial by A.D. Daily of The Edmond Sun, the previous year had been prosperous. The town was expanding, with 50 new houses, another cotton gin, the expansion of Eagle Milling Company, and a new auditorium at Central State Teachers College.  

World War I was over, and the economy had rebounded. Still an agricultural town with a population of only 2,500, Edmond was largely independent of Oklahoma City, which was miles away across the prairie. Traveling to the “big city” took an hour by train or trolley and was usually reserved for special occasions.

Stores in downtown Edmond carried all the basic necessities. It cost 10 cents to buy a can of Campbell’s soup, $2 for denim overalls, $8 for a tricycle, $10 for a shotgun, $13 for a man’s suit, $25 for a Philco tabletop radio, and $565 for a Ford sedan. Plus, Edmond had the advantage of its own ice company, livery, feed mill, and lumber yard. Officials urged Edmond citizens and nearby farmers to shop locally when possible, as a neighborly courtesy to the community’s business owners.

Edmond’s Small Town Life

In such a small town, most people knew each other. The Edmond newspapers, The Edmond Sun, The Edmond Enterprise, and The Edmond Booster, kept the locals informed of agricultural prices, church attendance, funeral announcements, who was going on vacation, who was in the hospital, what meal was served at any of the numerous dinner parties in town, and what color each bride picked for her floral bouquet.

The people of Edmond had also made a major business decision together. In 1925 they decided to forgo their government of volunteer officials in favor of a “managerial” form of government, which meant using tax money to hire a manager to run the town’s day-to-day operations. The election was scheduled for early 1926, and although women did not hold elected office, they had a voice at every debate and a vote at the polls.

W.M. Keeney was elected, having served 15 years at Edmond’s Light and Water Department at a salary of $172 a month. He was paid an additional $28 a month to absorb the managerial duties into his job.

Southwestern Bell Telephone Company announced plans to build an office in Edmond due to the healthy increase in telephone usage. In January 1926, Edmond had nearly 600 phone numbers. The new building, constructed behind Citizens National, meant Edmond would receive state-of-the-art upgrades to the telephone system. “Subscribers no longer have to turn the crank to ring…just lift off the receiver,” A.D. Dailey wrote in his column.

College Town Standards

The people of Edmond had high moral standards, befitting a college town focused on training future educators. Many students rented spare rooms in peoples’ homes or in boarding houses, so Edmondites felt integrally involved with campus life. College troublemakers were rare, because a student’s questionable behavior could endanger his or her future teaching career.

The students stayed very busy with arts, athletics and clubs, such as the Shakespeare Club, Les Chefettes (home economics), Quill Club (penmanship), Criterion Club (drama), Triumverate (debate), and the Tsa Mo Ga (study of Indians). One of the mid-twenties topics of concern regarded smoking as a trend or a vice, especially among young women, and “vice” was the prevalent view of Central State Teaching College leadership.

The administration encouraged students to spend their free time participating in community events and attending the circuit of lectures and performances at Edmond’s new Mitchell Hall, named for the school’s president, John C. Mitchell. Due to the school’s proximity to Oklahoma City, the college had the advantage of attracting some of the best-known celebrities, performers and lecturers, ranging from poets and explorers to opera singers.   

A Very Social “Social Life”

Community members attended these college events, too, gaining an elevated appreciation for the fine arts compared to the citizens of most rural farm towns. Edmondites also flocked to the college’s athletic events with dogged enthusiasm, even during long losing streaks.

The bright spot in Central’s sport history was when Coach Wantland led the football team to win the state’s Inter-Collegiate Championship in the 1921-22 season and again in 1923-24. Meanwhile, Edmond High School was elevating its athletics program. In 1922, the students selected the Bulldog as its mascot, and despite great enthusiasm, did not win any state titles in the twenties except for track in 1929.  

Without a hint of a speakeasy, “roaring twenties” entertainment in Edmond meant that nearly every adult held membership in a wide variety of community service and social clubs. Couples often hosted bridge tournaments in their home, with the table décor and menus described at length on the front page of the newspapers.

Ladies regularly met in the homes of individuals to quilt, arrange flowers or plan charitable events, while the men met at lodges to improve their speaking skills, talk politics or raise money for various causes. One initiative on everyone’s mind was the increase in car accidents and the need for improved roads.

ROUTE 66: THE SLOW GROWING HIGHWAY

Dealing with Dirt Roads

Discussions about the need for hard-surfaced roads had ramped up as early as the 1910s, when car ownership increased. Edmond’s narrow rutted roads, shared by both cars and horse-drawn buggies, became especially problematic anytime it rained. The challenge of being stuck in the mud was not unique to Edmond. By the early 1920s, one in every 13 people owned cars across the nation, and Oklahoma had less than 300 miles of hard-surfaced roads. Edmond only had eight. Good Roads booster clubs popped up across the country. Everyone wanted roads paved, but who was going to pay for it?  

Initially, the State of Oklahoma began promoting bond campaigns for paving roads in 1920, reminding people to “Help Pull Oklahoma County Out of the Mud Forever.” Poor roads affected farmers trying to get their crops to market and children trying to get to school. By passing those early bonds, individual tax-payers paid only .9 cents per $1,000 of assessed property value, and the federal government would assist with a small portion of the cost.

One Edmond resident lent his endorsement to the campaign by asking voters to put aside selfishness and think of the greater good, saying, “If you are not getting a road by your door now…your turn may come next.” A.D. Dailey advocated that paved streets, instead of rutted dirt roads, helped Edmond’s economy because, “Any business which requires hauling will naturally pick a town where hauling can be done more speedily.”  

Finding Paving Solutions

In 1925, Cyrus Avery, highway commissioner and “Father of Route 66,” found a higher-yield solution when his idea for a 3.5 cent gas tax passed the legislature, meaning that the people who drove cars helped pay for the roads. As Oklahoma communities approved bonds to pave portions of their streets, they could also apply for the more-robust, federal matching funds allotted for towns along the paths of the newly-designated highways.

Route 66 was not the only Oklahoma highway slated for paving, as the government sought to connect communities across the country. As a member of the U.S. Interstate Highway board, Avery was prominent in designing the nation’s entire highway system–although he had particular interest in seeing one run east and west from Chicago to Los Angeles, passing through his home state of Oklahoma.

An eloquent speaker, Avery traveled to local communities, convincing voters to move quickly in passing the necessary bonds to pave their portions of highway, reminding them that up to 5,000 vehicles might pass through their towns each day, and travelers equated to tax dollars. Avery’s guess was an underestimation, however, as nearly 7,000 cars passed through Edmond by the end of the decade (and 32,000 a day in 2025!).

Passing Paving Bonds

Approving bonds for community improvement was not an unfamiliar process to Edmondites. In 1924, citizens passed a bond to build a new high school and improve the sewer and water systems. By the mid-1920s, local citizens had started pooling their money to help Edmond gravel the roads in Edmond’s downtown area, but as state and federal highway plans began coming together in the middle part of the decade, road work became a top priority. State leaders urged property owners to petition for paving, reminding them that property values would increase. As sections of road were approved, citizens had to pay “paving taxes,” which necessitated the City Clerk to beg people in the newspaper to pay their dues to avoid penalty fees.

The country’s plan to connect roads across America was applauded by most, but in truth, it took about three years to mostly pave Edmond’s section of Highway 66—which was done in spurts and included a patchwork of Territorial brick sections, some gravel, and new portions made of Portland cement. It was not until 1937 that Edmond was completely paved, but during the ten-year process of implementing drivable roads along Route 66, Edmond was faced with on-going improvements, repairs and the necessary widening of intersections.

The lure of better roads seemed to keep taxpayers motivated, however, and bragging rights became their rallying cry. A.D. Dailey wrote eloquently of the highway, “Stretching like a silver band from coast to coast is the great No. 66 highway, and Edmond is fortunate enough to be on this highway, which will soon be paved…”

Talk of paving crept into everyday language and became a marketable commodity. The newspapers’ list of rental properties advertised houses along paved roads. Businesses, like Sturm’s Clothing Store, ran sales ads that mentioned “plenty of paving” for the ease of parking.

When Route 66 Almost Rerouted

Edmond was experiencing the growing pains that came with having a major thoroughfare routed through the central part of the town, and not everyone was happy. The increased traffic had accelerated road damage. Before the government began matching road construction funds, individuals had pooled their money to have gravel, asphalt or cement installed along the downtown streets. They watched in dismay as these new roads quickly fell into disrepair.

One incident nearly cut Edmond out of the highway plan:

On July 29, 1926, forty-four Edmond residents filed a petition with the state’s highway commission, demanding that reimbursement be paid for their road cost, since the state was responsible for routing the hordes of damaging traffic along their properties.

Since the final highway plan was still under negotiation, the state responded by reconsidering Edmond’s placement along Highway 66. Routing the highway through Edmond did have an initial complication: crossing the interurban tracks twice. According to L.B. Guthrey of the highway commission, “Traffic from the east must cross the tracks in the center of the city and southbound traffic must cross the tracks again at the south edge of the city.”  

When Edmond’s newly-elected city council heard that Edmond’s 2^nd street might get bypassed in favor of a road further south, they quickly began a plan of damage control, and the petition was withdrawn. The crisis was averted, but a year later, the ongoing issue of the railway tracks still needed to be addressed. Drivers not only crossed the tracks twice, the tracks were still in dirt. As Broadway continued to develop to the south, the proposed solution was to gravel or pave along the tracks and remove the center curb to make the street wider. It was the first step toward creating the sharp corner at 2^nd & Broadway that exists today.  

EDMOND’S TRAFFIC PROBLEMS RAMP UP

Too Much Wreckless Driving

The Edmond Sun editor, A.D. Dailey, was rallying officials and citizens to give serious thought to the infrastructure along Highway 66, prompting the headline “Edmond has Traffic Problems.” Edmondites had passed the bonds for roadwork, and the matching state and federal money was allotted to fully pave the highway by 1929, but other traffic issues had arisen.

Highway 66 had once been a buggy road, so the street was narrow. The concept of building parking lots near schools and businesses was just beginning to develop in larger cities, and although Edmond did have some designated parking spots, marked with white lines along the road for parked cars, many drivers parked haphazardly along the edges of Highway 66. Not only did this obstruct views at intersections, it also created safety issues for pedestrians.

Not everyone was thrilled with the influx of traffic through town, either. Citizens began to complain of drivers who ignored the speed limit, racing down 2^nd street at up to 50 mph, although local roads still had a speed limit of 15 mph and the highway speed was 35 mph.

Road safety was an ever-present concern as increasing numbers of people experienced car wrecks and injuries, and Edmond’s first car fatality occurred in 1926. Driving standards, still under development, were largely seen as “suggestions.” Newspaper editors regularly begged motorists to observe the “stop stripes” or “stop marks” at the major intersections of town. The system of taking turns was often overlooked by impatient drivers who preferred to speed or aggressively honk their way through an intersection.

When a mother was put in the hospital following a reckless automobile accident in 1927, Mayor DeGraffenried announced that anyone who ran a stop line or exceeded the speed limit in Edmond would be arrested. Councilmen urged the men of the community to become safety watchdogs. With schools being so close to the highway, children also had to learn about the new road risks, which now included, “Don’t get in a car with a stranger.”    

WELCOMING MOTORISTS

Tourists Create Business Opportunities

With the advent of Route 66, aspiring entrepreneurs in Edmond had seen their chance to escape farming and industrial life by opening services along 2^nd street to accommodate motorists, including gas stations, repair garages and diners that offered home-style cooking. In 1924, Edmond had approximately five garages and eight grocery stores. Those numbers would triple by the end of the decade.  

Motorists touring through Edmond had ample opportunity to purchase gifts, necessities, or travel luxuries–like ice cream. The Edmond Ice Company was doing brisk business with its sideline product, Sheldon’s Purity Cream (ice cream). Although it was introduced in 1921, purity cream was still selling strong at most Edmond drug stores, fountains, and cafes in the late twenties.

Paas Hardware store sold everything a traveler might need, from batteries and tools to fishing tackle. D&M Drug Store offered a pharmacy, cosmetics, watch repair services and–for a couple of years–fireworks. City council requested that Edmond honor a “noiseless fourth” in the summers of 1928 and 1929. In a clear show of rebellion, D&M newspaper ads announced that the owners could not conceive a July 4^th without noise, so they offered a full line of noisy-but-safe fireworks all “within the law.”   

Travelers appreciated laundry services during long road trips, and even more importantly, Edmond offered a variety of tire stores. Driving a Model T or a Model A Ford long distances on rough road surfaces, many of which were still unpaved, contributed to frequent tire punctures and broken wheel spokes. A tire could be purchased for $6-$7 dollars each, and most repair stores would fix the punctures for free.

Edmond’s Tourist Camp

In 1926, highway patrolman, Charlie Steen, requested signs visible from the eastern and southern borders of Edmond that identified the town. Steen, who had been the first child raised in Edmond at the railroad pump house, said that based on the countless number of people who stopped him to ask what city they were in, Edmond needed to advertise itself better along the road. Shortly afterward, Edmond added the requested signs.  

As early as 1919, the Edmond Chamber of Commerce had noticed the uptick in motorists driving through Edmond. Car owners suddenly had the freedom to “see the country” as never before. Families and friend groups found pleasure in ambling along the road, with little planning or knowledge about what they might encounter along the way. Wherever they landed for the night, they usually slept in their cars, in tents, or under the stars.

The Edmond Chamber established a free Tourist Camp on 2^nd Street, with access to water, gas stoves, and picnic benches. The location, (the future Fink Park), was also a lovely respite compared to many roadside tourist camps in other towns, offering the luxuries of shade trees, the sound of trickling streams, and supposedly fewer mosquitos than other Oklahoma stops.

Although downtown Edmond was located on the mixed-grass prairie, Edmond’s tourist camp was situated at the undeveloped east edge of town, along a hillside “finger” of the ancient Cross-Timbers forest. The Cross Timbers, a thick band of trees running north and south from Missouri, Oklahoma, and Texas along Highway 77 (later I-35) was strikingly different from the flat, treeless landscape of Edmond. The beautiful grove of post oaks, blackjack oaks, and elm trees at the Tourist Park ran thick in the hollow, which also had a red sandstone ridge that was not too formidable to hike.

Recreation in the Cross Timbers

Although the site was rebranded as a tourist camp in the twenties, it had long been used by the community as a recreation area. Schools, churches, clubs and businesses held group picnics and social activities at the picnic tables. Because of the park’s nearness to campus, many college students strolled and picnicked at the tree grove dating back to the 1889s, long before the Tourist Camp was established. One particular sandstone landform along the stream had earned the nickname of Lover’s Rock, having “played an important part in the romances of Central college students for a quarter of a century,” according to The Vista.          

The Tourist Park, located directly on Route 66, was noted for its brisk business of “auto sight seers,” of four to 12 cars each night, with up to 18 cars on weekends and holidays. Enticing motorists to stay for the night was good for local business owners, who saw increased sales at their gas pumps, grocery stores, auto garages and food diners. Visitors described Edmond as delightful, pretty, convenient, and sanitary.      

By the late 1920s, entrepreneurs had opened two privately-run tourist camps. Camp Dixie and Camp Ideal offered cabins for rent, and most tourists would pay .50 cents or a dollar to stay in a room. Unfortunately, the free campground was starting to attract criminals and “tramp tourists,” so in 1928, Edmond followed the trend of other cities in shutting down its free Tourist Camp to overnight visitors. The “closed” signs placed at the Tourist Camp entrance initially confused Edmonites, who thought their favorite nature escape was off limits, but once again, the newspaper came to the rescue, announcing that the park was still usable during the daytime.   

A CHANGED TOWN

Bragging About Pavement

During the last half of the twenties, discussions about the paving and graveling of roads was regular front-page news in Edmond. The race to pave major roads became a competition with other Oklahoma communities. Edmond newspapers ran bid announcements, contract awards, and regularly announced the “grand total” of miles paved in comparison with nearby towns.

In 1927, Oklahoma County, alone, aimed to pave 74.5 miles of roads (or 86 miles or 128 miles depending on the source). Edmond would benefit from 28 of those miles, with 13.7 miles running along Route 66 to the county line in Luther and the remaining 14.3 for the highway running north from Edmond to Guthrie.

The college’s student newspaper, The Vista, had celebrated when the first six miles of pavement were laid near the school. Students wrote that although the school was excellent, visitors and students alike complained about the terrible roads surrounding the college. By the end of the decade, Central State was bragging that, “When you are in Central you are within twelve miles of the capital of the state; and you are on the Main Street of America’s paved highway that every day bears thousands of tourists through the state.” 

Roads at the Outskirts of Edmond

By late 1928, Edmond had mostly completed the initial round of hard-surfaced roads and pot-hole repair work was already needed. It was also time to focus on smaller streets, residential areas, and the areas of expansion as Edmond grew outward, especially to the south along Broadway.

“Twenty-five years ago in this country, a good road was the exception, not the rule,” wrote A.D. Dailey. “Now a new phase of highway expansion is appearing–the building of secondary or feeder roads.”

Littler Street was described as the worst road in town, “a sea of mud puddles” when it rained, but it was still unpaved. Third street was partly paved, but the area between Broadway and Boulevard had a handful of small houses, interspersed with empty lots. Highway funds did not help pay for these outlying streets, so it fell upon citizens. In a rare turnabout of opinion by A.D. Dailey, he pleaded mercy for these elderly homeowners who “did not need paving,” nor could they afford it.

The highway was good for business, but hard on landowners along 2^nd Street. In 1929, the government confiscated significant portions of their land to make way for wider streets. Second street was widened eight feet on either side, between Broadway and Boulevard, to accommodate traffic.

The challenge of widening 2^nd Street east of Boulevard, an area of town that was starting to expand, was already under consideration. The residential neighborhood, Capital View, was located on a hill, but Highway 66 ran parallel along the bottom of the hill. The solution was that homeowners along 2^nd street would lose their front yards to the road, but how would they then manage the sharp drop-offs at their front doorsteps? And how would they get their cars up and down such steep elevations? City leaders and engineers grappled with these issues, but in the end, many homeowners sacrificed their land, which is evidenced today by some very tiny front yards along 2^nd Street.   

Bigger Town, Smaller World

By the end of the decade, Edmond looked completely different. The advancement of paved roads, hardly imaginable at the beginning of the 1920s, was a reality. Dirt roads were largely a thing of the past, the horse and buggy had largely disappeared from town, and a wide range of service businesses had cropped up along the highway. The road between Edmond and Tulsa was completed, just in time to welcome the oil men who came to explore the promising West Edmond Oil Field, although the landmark gusher would not come until 1930.

Other things had drastically changed in Edmond, too. The town had gained an additional 1,000 people, bringing the population to 3,500. Churches experienced such a boom in attendance that the Methodist church and First Christian church both built large new buildings to accommodate hundreds of people, and the Presbyterian church was constructing a large addition. Enrollment at Central State continued to rise in response to Oklahoma’s need to fill 17,000 teaching positions. Attendance rose from 3,000 at the beginning of the decade to nearly 4,000 in 1929, which prompted President Mitchell to beg Edmond households to provide rooms to students, and to keep rent at a reasonable $6.50 a week. Over a third of the college enrollees had come from farm parents, choosing to escape the “family business” of agriculture.  

Edmond Grows Up

Edmond was starting to feel like a big town and was outgrowing its “farm town” label. In the summer of 1929, citizens rallied for a future hospital in Edmond, and cheered at the opening of a Piggly Wiggly grocery store, Edmond’s first self-service chain store. The Southwestern Bell Telephone Company had built a big new office, and the fire department had purchased its first horseless pump wagon. The Gem Theater said goodbye to silent movies when the owner, Willilam Spearman, purchased a Movietone machine and showed its first all-talkie movie, called Speakeasy.

Women’s clothing experienced the most dramatic change in American fashion history, and Edmond was no exception. The decade started with blousey tops and full billowy skirts, and the decade ended with short, drop-waisted, sheath dresses. Hairstyles had gone from buns to bobs in less than ten years.  

In January 1929, A.D. Dailey reflected on 1928 as the most prosperous year in Edmond’s history because of the many “permanent improvements.” Americans did not know that the Stock Market Crash and the Great Depression years were looming. With the exception of farmers, Edmond businesses would weather these situations better than many towns, somewhat cushioned from the recession, at least initially, because of its necessary industries of grain, feed, cotton, and ice. Edmond also had a railroad for transporting goods and a highway for transporting people.

Edmond’s Place in the World

From the inception of Edmond’s Route 66 in 1926 until it was completely paved in 1929, A.D. Dailey, had given Edmondites a steady diet of tangible reasons to support the highway through town. His written predictions of economic benefit, personal advantage, and town growth all came to fruition. In June 1928, Dailey said, “Good streets and rapid locomotion have annihilated time and distance and virtually made the whole world kin.”

Route 66 was the game changer that literally put Edmond “on the map,” and the diversity of work opportunities, made possible by the highway, helped Edmond grow in the twenties and then weather the coming recession better than most towns. Without Route 66, Edmond might have failed to become the thriving city it is today.

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Author’s Note:

The twenties was a decade of dramatic change, propelled by the availability and affordability of automobiles. American society was suddenly more mobile, flexible and accessible. Edmond was not immune to the societal shift, but becoming a Route 66 town was the impetus of financial advantage that a small farm community could not have predicted. Although Edmond’s role on Route 66 was not flashy, with no major landmark or mascot, it provided a convenient stopping place tween Tulsa and Oklahoma City for weary or hungry travelers or those who needed car repairs. Edmond’s economy gained untold advantages by having both highway traffic and a railroad. It is these vehicles of transportation that drove Edmond forward and the effects continue to resonate.    

While researching Edmond’s 1920s history, I was reminded that culture changes from decade to decade, but the needs and motivations of people largely remain the same. Everyone seeks safety, companionship, economic stability and the chance to make improvements in their lives. It became clear that Edmondites a century ago were not that different than we are today. The issues of tax dollars, road repairs, crime rates and affordable housing dominated their discussions—eerily similar to today’s conversations.

Much of this historical record comes from the written words of A.D. Dailey, the longtime editor of The Edmond Sun. His daily opinion column addressed the pressing topics of the day, which clearly revolved around the road, the economy, and the people in Edmond who influenced it either way. I am in awe of the sheer volume of A.D. Dailey’s writings over 32 years. The Edmond community is indebted to him for preserving our historical heritage. Thank you to all journalists who put words into the hands and minds of citizens.       

Resources:

Thank you to curator, Derek Lee, for his research assistance, and to the following newspapers and books:  The Edmond Sun, The Edmond Enterprise, The Edmond Booster, The Vista, The Daily Oklahoman, and the book, “Edmond’s First Century,” by Stan Hoig and “Cyrus Avery: Father of Route 66” by Susan Croce Kelly.