ROADSIDE ATTRACTIONS
From just east of Erick to Texola, Oklahoma, Route 66 is preserved in its "deluxe" form: as a four-lane divided highway. In Erick, 66 has been renamed in honor of Erick native Roger Miller, singer and composer of the classic country-novelty tune "King of the Road."
The "WestLaw Building" is my own name for an anonymous structure on the south side of Roger Miller Highway, just west of Erick's main intersection (the one with a traffic signal). By its architecture, and by the amount of industrial/automotive debris scattered around the front lot, the building would appear to be a former service station or repair shop. The entire building is painted white, except for certain mysterious information spray-painted in black, thoroughly defacing the Route 66 side:
1961 MAPP V OHIO
1966 MIRANDA V ARIZONA
Whether these cases offer any insight into the decline and fall of the "WestLaw Building" is a mystery. My best surmise is that someone is dissatisfied with the way policemen handled the situation.
Texola lies on the Texas/Oklahoma border -- hence the name. It is sometimes described as a "ghost town," but when I last drove by, on a Sunday morning, the parking lot of the First Baptist Church was packed.
There always seem to be a few contemporary vehicles parked outside the local "necessities" shop. Beneath a long wooden awning, the shadowy front of that building presents another mysterious black-letter declaration:
NO PLACE LIKE TEXOLA
Back in the early 1990s I visited the Texola Jail, which stood about "one block" north of 66. I was shown the way to it by special Texola street signs. The Smallest Jail in the West was slightly larger than a standard outhouse. Deeply moved, I dutifully photographed its exterior from a few different perspectives. Last month I found that the signs, and the jailhouse, had disappeared -- at least, the signs were gone and I couldn't find the jailhouse. Maybe it's been shrinking all these years? Maybe Texas, grown self-conscious about its ubiquitous giganticism, reached over and claimed the jailhouse for its own correctional uses? Probably I just overlooked it. Whatever the case, the diminutiveness of the Texola Jail seems almost quaint after a visit to the incredible Alanreed Jail.
UPDATE 12/03
On my last trip back East I stopped off in Texola, at twilight time, to resume my search for the jailhouse. Without much trouble I found it on a side street, perhaps 30 yards from the main road. I parked my car and prepared to investigate the facility, and then saw to my left a bearded man and his dog, walking in my general direction. (Another "ghost town" bites the dust.) My first reaction was to flee, and I drove about 20 feet in reverse until I considered that neither the man nor the dog appeared hostile, and also that I might finally get some answers to my many questions about Texola, the jail, and so on. I parked again and rolled down my window. A brief conversation ensued.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"Is this the Texola jail, the smallest jail, uh, in Texas?"
"Mmmm... you're in Oklahoma."
"Oh..." Of course. I knew that. Suddenly (gratefully) I recalled reading about Texola in the context of some historical border dispute between the neighboring states. "Wasn't Texola part of Texas at one time?" I blurted.
"Well, that was settled by Texas taking everything west of the North Fork of the Canadian River, or is it the South Fork..." He managed to explain this pretty well, but I've forgotten the details.
"I was just looking for the Texola jail."
"This is it."
"I was here once before, and I thought there were signs leading to the jailhouse from Route 66. I didn't see any this time."
"That one," pointing to a blank slate of wood nailed to a tree, "I guess that's a little weatherbeaten."
"I'm glad I found the jail this time. I'm on my way to Pennsylvania for the holidays, so I'd better be going. Thanks for clearing things up for me."
"You're welcome."
"Merry Xmas."
"Merry Xmas."