Beginning on September 10, 1913, a motorist could hop into his or her automobile at Times Square in New York City and drive for 3,389 miles on a paved road all the way across the country arriving (eventually) at Lincoln Park in San Francisco. Said motorist would be traveling the transportation marvel known as the Lincoln Highway on an odyssey through New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, and California — passing through more than 700 cities, towns and villages.
In the 1920s, when highways began to be numbered, a good chunk of the Lincoln Highway got the more colorful designation U.S. Route 30, and with the introduction of the Interstate Highway System in the 1950s, the even more fanciful I-80.
Part of the fun of the Lincoln Highway was all the wonderful oddities created by local entrepreneurs to squeeze a few dollars out of passing motorists — the mystery spots, the reptile farms, the world’s largest this and the world’s smallest that.
When was the last time you stopped by one of these places?
Do Do That Voodoo
Get a lover, keep a lover, get rid of a lover. She could do it all. “She could keep anybody from harming you and she could do anything you wanted done to anybody. How she used to do it, I don’t know. She used to say prayers and mix different things to give people to drink, to rub
with, to throw over your shoulder, to throw in the river. Oh! She had a million things to do but everything would happen just like she would say.” (Aileen Eugene, 1930)
For most of the 19th century, Marie Laveau was the most famous and powerful Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. Rich and poor, black and white, they all respected and feared her. She was born a Free Woman of Color on September 10, 1794. A devout Catholic, she attended Mass daily. She worked as a hairdresser and a nurse before becoming involved in the practice of voodoo, a religion that draws freely from both West African ancestor worship and Catholicism.
Even after her death in 1881, she continued to influence the people of New Orleans. People still visit her grave in the city’s St. Louis Cemetery, leaving money, cigars and rum with the hope she will fulfill their wishes.
Speaking of Voodoo . . .
I got your voodoo. It’s all in this fun little novel — charms spells, magic, romance, danger — all sorts of things that go bump in the Caribbean night. Take a look. I’ve been known to stick pins into little dolls to get what I want.
Wretched Richard's Almanac 