Hey there, fellow travelers! I’m excited to share the second part of my Travel Blog Series with you, and I promise you won’t want to miss what’s ahead. I’m gearing up for an incredible Hardcover Coffee Table Book that focuses on the exciting upgrades along the Mother Road.
I set off from home shortly after noon, feeling that familiar rush of adventure. My first stop? A brief detour through Kirkwood, Missouri. You see, I’ve been on a mission to collect interactive Route 66 shields, and I couldn't resist adding another one to my growing collection. These shields are a small part of my journey as Commissioner with the Missouri Route 66 Centennial Commission. They serve as little markers of my adventures, each one telling a story of the roads I've traveled.
After enjoying the charm of Kirkwood, I headed to Granite City. This was a place I had often driven past, always in a hurry to get somewhere else. But today, I chose to finally explore it, and I must say, it was a delightful surprise. I realized that bypassing Granite City had been a bit of an oversight on my part. The town had its own unique vibe, with interesting sights and sounds that I had been missing out on all this time.
As I navigated through the streets, I couldn’t help but appreciate the blend of history and modern life that Granite City offered. It was a reminder that sometimes the best experiences are found off the beaten path, just waiting for someone to take a moment to discover them.
A City Named After Cookware
Granite City didn't develop gradually. It was intentionally established by two German immigrant brothers, Frederick and William Niedringhaus, who amassed wealth in St. Louis by producing enameled kitchen pots. In 1874, William saw cookware with a granite-like finish in a German shop window, brought the concept back, and "Granite Ironware"
became the product that eventually funded an entire city named after it. When St. Louis refused to let the brothers expand their steelworks, they crossed the river and built their own — incorporated in 1896, with a steel mill operational by 1902. Hungarian, Macedonian, Armenian, Italian, and Mexican families came to work in the mills and rail yards, and this cultural blend remains integral to the city's identity, whether you notice it while walking around or not.
Rusty, and the Neighborhood He Guards
Rusty the Sledgehammer Muffler Man stands twenty feet tall at the edge of Lincoln Place, and next to him is one of the better interpretive plaques I've come across on this whole project. It doesn't just explain the statue — it tells you what this neighborhood actually is: "You're entering Lincoln Place, Granite City's oldest neighborhood, where history runs deep and pride runs even deeper... immigrants from around the world came with dreams in their hearts and determination in their souls." Then it gets a little theatrical about Rusty himself — a whole invented legend about him showing up one morning before sunrise, "boots caked in clay, lunch pail in hand," and never quite clocking out. It's a lot of mythology for a fiberglass man with a sledgehammer. I loved every word of it.
Earl Has a Very Large Tire
A short drive away, at O'Brien Tire & Auto Care, Earl stands watch with a wrench in one hand and a shop rag in the other — 1906 building, tire the size of a small shed parked next to him, neon sign overhead still doing its job in daylight. Earl's plaque is shorter than Rusty's but the spirit's the same: another blue-collar tribute standing exactly where blue-collar work
actually happened. Both Earl and Rusty were created by artist Mark Cline.
A Fork, Stuck in a Birthday Cake
I went looking for a giant fork. What I found was a fork stuck into a slice of fiberglass birthday cake, which nobody warned me about. Its plaque calls it "The Fork in the Road: Symbol of Choice & Change," and right next to it is a second sign that spells out exactly what it's celebrating — one hundred years of Route 66, two hundred fifty years of the United States, same cake, same fork, two anniversaries. It's a little on the nose but I stood there longer than the joke really warranted.
Two Unexpected Giants
This is where the day got away from me, in a good way. A firefighter with his hose coiled and a Dalmatian sitting patiently at his boots, tucked beside an old brick wall downtown. A coal miner holding a lantern aloft, standing guard over a train-themed playground stamped "MRR 1927." Neither one has a plaque. Neither one has an explanation anywhere I could find. Earl and Rusty both come with their own mythology; these two just showed up on my drive around town with no story attached at all, which is its own kind of interesting. If you know their story please share it!
The Murals, and What's Painted Over Them
Downtown Granite City is expressing its identity through murals. One wall features a sunset skyline with the Gateway Arch silhouette, a couple on a motorcycle, and an advertisement for Mr. Twist Ice Cream, which, according to its sign, has been in business for forty-nine years. Another wall displays a proper postcard-style mural: "Greetings from Route 66, Granite City, Illinois," with letters filled with small scenes of the road, set against a hand-drawn street map and a full American flag, right next to Jim's Pawn & Jewelry, as if that's the most typical neighbor for a mural. A third wall uses the postcard style in a smaller format, next to a Bel-Air Drive-In sign and a red '55 Chevy that isn't real but looks like it belongs there.
I asked about the artist's identity but couldn't find an answer. I looked through all the available published sources, but none provided the information, and the murals themselves are unsigned. They continue to serve their purpose without any attribution, which could either be an oversight or the kind of anonymous civic pride in which Granite City seems to excel.
Neon, Twice
I shot the 'It's Electric Neon Sign Park' at dusk, when Hudson's Jewelry and Reese Drugs were just starting to punch through a darkening blue sky, the Washington Theatre marquee still advertising "Route 66 Caravan Big Texan Steak Challenge 2026" between showings of Illinois: Birthplace of Route 66. Then I came back once it was fully dark and shot it again, because my own notes told me to, and my own notes were right — the second version is a different photograph entirely, all four signs glowing at once against a sky gone completely black.
Earlier, I nearly stopped down the road at Mr. Twist Ice Cream which is still going, "still twistin' after all these years," per the mural painted right on its own building. Forty-nine years and counting, by its own math.
Abe, at Blue Hour
The last new face of the day was the tallest — Abraham Lincoln in a top hat and tailcoat, a little blue book marked LAW THEORY held against his chest, standing in a pretty little park next to a cool old house I still haven't been able to identify. Certain things are only known to the locals.
More on Granite City — its murals, its unsigned giants, and whatever we eventually learn about that house — in the book. This was one trip. This was one trip. There are still ninety-some to go. Stay Tuned!
