The Road to Now

A century ago, hard-topped roads leading outward from the industrial downtowns of America stopped at the city line. Amid weeds and cornfields, dirt paths snaked outward, routes that were often impassable in rainy seasons. But smoky locomotives and electric interurban trains streaked by on iron rails, carrying passengers and produce into the bustling depots. In the early twentieth century, bicycles and automobiles changed all that and caused a national clamor for good roads. Railroad depredations had poisoned the well of public opinion, and rail owners returned government's contempt. But the motor industry, which the public embraced as an alternative to the hated rails, viewed government as a partner in progress. This contrast spelled doom for the iron horse and untold prosperity for the horseless carriage. The American highway-motor complex, by fostering the myth that driving is cheap and an inalienable right, created a national policy of subsidizing the roads while starving the rails. Its legacy is a nation with clogged superhighways and underused railroads existing side by side.