Thanks for all the support from my fellow roadies and fans on Route 66. I was able to take 3rd place in the Phillips 66 Local Legends contest.

I have decided to enter a contest showing some of my efforts and talents to keep Route 66 alive. This video demonstrates to Phillips that I put a lot of energy and talent into marking roads, documenting old alignments, and commemorating iconic figures that are also directly involved with keeping Route 66 alive.

Please show your support by sharing the following link. You will also need to give my video a vote on Phillips web site.
Click Here

I entered the lobby, unsure of what to expect. Surprisingly as I opened the door I heard lots of loud conversation and music playing. I looked in the direction of the commotion and saw a dry erase sign with fancy writing on it stating, “Appearing tonight, Dennis Foster”. I could hardly believe, live music in this Motel, during this fateful time of its life? Steering my attention back to the lobby I see a young girl, about 9 years old scurry down the main hall way. She ducked into a room down the hallway. I looked around in amazement at how clean and tidy the facility looked. It reminded me of some of the older, upper class Motels I had stayed at. A well dressed, young man entered from the room that the young girl had gone into. He greeted me and asked if he could be of service. Eagerly I asked if I could have a room. He obliged by filling out my registration and by getting me a key. I asked about the party that was underway in the lounge attached to the lobby. He indicated to me that a local fraternity was having a reunion of sorts. I walked over and peered into the lounge area. Wow, the place was full. It was mostly an older crowd about 65+. There was good music, people dancing, drinking, laughing, and everyone had a smile on their faces.

I walked back over to the registration desk. Reluctantly I said to the clerk, “Wow, you would never know this place was scheduled to close in under two weeks.” The attendant responded, “Yeah, I know”. His attitude was solemn. We mingled a bit more about the circumstances forcing the closure of this historical landmark in Rolla. Before going to my room, I poked my head back into lounge and listened for a bit as Mr. Foster gleefully played some oldies with his red and white Fender guitar.

I left the lobby and shuffled to my room. I remarked to myself the whole way to my room how strange it was that this Route 66 Motel was closing. Looking around the parking lot, I noticed that it was near capacity, with only a few spots to be had. I glanced at the time and noticed that it was after 10:30 PM. “The brochure I saw said the restaurant closes at 9:00 PM, so they must have a lot of overnight guests staying this evening,” I surmised. From the outside the place looks a little older, but sufficiently up to par in order to accommodate modern demands.

I opened my room with the punch card given to me from the front desk clerk. This was my first time staying as an overnight guest at the motel. To my surprise I was greeted with a very clean room. Comparing it to newer nationally branded chains, it might be missing a few things, but for me, a Route 66 Roadie, it was everything I could want or need. I remembered the party in progress over at the lounge and decided I better drop off my stuff and join them.

Walking back across the parking lot I took notice of all the other competing Motels within a stone’s throw. Anything from the cheapest dump in town, to the high priced modern chain brand motel is looming over Zeno’s Motel and Steakhouse. According to my initial judgments, many motorists passing through make Rolla an overnight stop. Otherwise, how could there be so much lodging to choose from. At this point, it hit me…. Zeno’s is smack in the middle of them all, and probably doesn’t shine as brightly as it used to because it’s shrouded by all the competition. Pushing back open the lobby doors, I noticed only conversation and the sounds of mingling coming from the lounge. Dennis Foster was putting away his Fender and getting ready to make his exit. At this point I thought, “Well, I’m here, might as well have a drink.” I sat down at the bar and the well dressed bartender poured my favorite rum n’ coke upon as requested. I watched as the old timers retired from the room. They were reminiscing and hugging; remarking about how wonderful it was to get back in touch and to catch up. Then, there were none. Suddenly, I was one of three patrons left in the room. I felt as though I might be a bit of a burden to the bartender who was looking over a near vacant room. I asked what time the lounge closed, and she politely informed me when the last guest has left. My eyes perked and I asked, “What if they leave at 3:00 am????” Without delay she informed me that she would be there to pour drinks as long as someone needed one. Now, that’s dedication I thought to myself. I took a moment to realize the ornate woodwork that made up the bar back and the liquor display. I was quite impressed and figured it was worth photographing. I looked over my shoulder to two fellas in their early 30s sitting at a table together. One of the two men caught me taking a snapshot and bursted out, “Hey the lighted sign should still be on outside!” It was obvious that the two were well on their way to being drunk and that they had a vested interest in the facility. As it turns out they were employees of Zeno’s Restaurant. I struck up a conversation with one of the fellas. He worked as a cook. Told me he started when he was 22 and now he is 33. I asked what he planned on doing with himself since the doors would be shutting forever. He wasn’t sure, but he reassured me that he was dedicated to the performance of his duties until the very last dinner was served. “All I want to do is make people happy,” he explained to me with sincerity. “If I can do anything to make someone totally happy, I will do it without hesitating.” I looked around and noticed the bartender had been peering in on our conversations. I asked her what she thought about the recent news. She shared the same sentiments that the cook did. – “We aren’t happy about it, but we are doing what we can, for as long as we can.” I had to confess to them how astonishing I felt about the dedication I witnessed firsthand by the staff. It’s tough to contemplate how a clean facility, great staff, and a comfortable atmosphere cannot be successful at beating its competition, or at the very least surviving. Our little group sat there bantering and contemplating our personal philosophies and theories on life. I was honored to be invited into the personal confines of the staff’s feelings regarding the end of their jobs. Someone mentioned that there were a couple of people that had worked at Zeno’s since the 1970’s; one more amazing fact for me to mull over while I calculated the theory behind why the Rolla landmark was closing. As an employer myself, I understand the difficulty and persistence it requires to work somewhere for longer than 15 years. The owners must really be kind and respectful to their staff.

The clock was staring at me impatiently, beckoning me to go back to my room so I could get a good night’s rest. After all I had a breakfast appointment with some Route 66 roadies the next morning. It was around 1:30AM and figured it was about time to give the barkeep and my brain cells a break. I wished everyone well and again shuffled back across the parking lot. I still couldn’t shake the notion that this place was closing. It’s just sort of a troubling idea that I can’t grasp. I put it on hold for the morning.

The next day I met up with a small group for breakfast. There were 6 of us in attendance. I had requested a visit from the owner when I made the reservation the night before. We were seated and informed Mr. Scheffer would chat with us, but he first had to make everyone’s breakfast. We were all just short of amazed that the owner would be preparing our food. Our food took a while to get. Before I got impatient, I remembered the cook from last night’s party telling me how almost everything was made to order and made from scratch. I informed the group and I think it made us all a bit more willing to wait. I felt like my breakfast exceeded my expectations. I’m pretty picky about pancakes, but these were good. They weren’t too thick or dry. They were just right. The best part of breakfast was when the owner sat down and joined us for a quick 5 minute conversation. Mike Scheffer, the owner, was somewhat unsure about what to say. He knew we were from Route 66 and he knew that we knew He was just days from closing the doors on a business that had been in his family for several generations. I assume Joe Sondermann picked up on the uneasiness that Mr. Scheffer was having, because he jumped right into “interview mode” without hesitation and started easing questions in Mike’s direction using a very calm and somber tone. All of us sat in complete silence listening to Joe and Mike converse about how events from recent years inhibited the Motel’s ability to operate successfully. I don’t want to go too much into the details of the interview here, because I feel Joe would do a better job and deserves the opportunity. I do need to mention something that stuck with me and probably will live with me as long as I’m a Route 66 roadie. Please read carefully the following: I watched attentively as Mike’s demeanor grew more emotional and serious. As if he were almost pleading to the wheel of fate his eyes glassed over just barely holding back tears that were welling up and he said in an assertive powerful tone, “I learned to crawl in these hallways. I crawled these hallways…” I felt as though he was making a demand to a higher power in his statement. In that moment I understood what was at stake. I actually visualized in my mind’s eye what it would be like to grow up an entire life in this facility, or as Mr. Scheffer called it, home. Roaming and playing in the hallways and corridors as a child. Scrubbing and cleaning as a teenager, and learning the inner business operations as a young adult. And its fate would all be uncertain at this point. At best, it might undergo renovation and be sucked up into a homogenized corporate chain. At worst it would be reduced to a parking lot for the neighboring hospital.

I was fortunate enough to witness this place, its patrons, its dedicated family of owners, and its veteran staff. I regretfully tell you my friend that I honestly have only patronized Zeno’s twice in all my travels of roaming Route 66… and well – my travels of Missouri. I feel ashamed that I have passed this place dozens of times without giving a second thought. Sure, I told a handful of people about the great dinner I had there back in 2008 and how I thought it was some of the best food available on Route 66 between Baxter Springs, Kansas and Litchfield, Illinois. But now it doesn’t seem to be enough. For the first time in my life I feel like I have failed the Mother Road by a considerable amount. If I didn’t share this story with all of you, I feel that I might burden myself with more conviction over this Landmark or others on Route 66. Be very aware. – Life on Route 66 is fragile. Be sure to tell everyone you know of a special place you know about on Route 66. If you keep it to yourself, it just might get stripped away from the Mother Road, never to be seen again.

I wish everyone I encountered at Zeno’s a fruitful and fulfilling life. Thank you for your dedicated service. It would be a privilege to see all of you down the road.

Rich Dinkela II
www.HookedOnRoute66.com