A Conversation with “America’s Photographer” Carol Highsmith on the Alluring and Enduring Route 66
After more than four decades on the road, and 50 states’ worth of photos to show for it, Carol Highsmith has well earned her moniker of “America’s Photographer.” And with her ongoing donation of her life’s work to the Library of Congress—expected to grow to more than 100,000 photographs—Highsmith's America will be preserved for posterity.
For Highsmith, nothing signifies Americana like Route 66. It’s “the Mother Road,” as John Steinbeck dubbed it in The Grapes of Wrath. It’s where everyday people “get [their] kicks,” as goes the ubiquitous Bobby Troup tune, released in 1946, the same year that Highsmith was born. It’s America’s Main Street.
“Once you travel it,” Highsmith told us, “you’ll always travel it in your mind.”
With Route 66’s centennial fast approaching in 2026, Highsmith is striving to capture every last subtlety of the famed highway, and the National Trust is committed to protecting the power of this enduring place through its Preserve Route 66 initiative. We sat down with Highsmith to learn more about her photographic process, her devotion to Route 66, and her journeys across America.
What are your earliest memories of photography?
My dad used to take photos of me around the clock, me and my sister. So I grew up with photography even though I did not really have a camera at the time. I had the [Kodak] Brownie though. It was kind of a family thing. [My dad] took movies and stills, and of course I [still] have all that, which is so fun.
When did photography go from a hobby to a passion that you wanted to pursue professionally?
I was living in Washington, D.C., and I was working in broadcasting. I traveled to Europe, and I went to Siberia and Russia and China, all over the place, and I realized how much I loved America.
I was kicking around going to the Corcoran School [for] photography, getting interested in photography. I had my office down on Pennsylvania Avenue, not too far from the Willard Hotel. ... I went inside and I was hooked. I’ve never seen anything like it, it was just trashed.
I thought, here I am, a block and a half from the White House, and this has happened. I just dedicated my life to it. I spent 17 years showcasing the rebuilding of Pennsylvania Avenue [through photography]. ... Knowing what went on in [the Willard Hotel], and then seeing them restore it—how fascinating.
How did you make the jump from Pennsylvania Avenue to documenting the entire country?
One day, Random House called and asked if my husband [Ted Landphair] and I would like to do books across America, so we did. ... He’s a writer [and] he worked for Voice of America doing Americana. We started traveling for Random House, doing all sorts of books about America.
I could never stay long enough in any place because I always just loved it and wanted more. I always thought I had seen the best until I went to the next place.
What drew you to Route 66?
I’m a baby boomer. We lived in Minneapolis, and every year [while my dad] worked, my mother, sister, and myself would go down South and visit all our relatives. As we traveled, what I saw was very similar to what Route 66 looks like now. Old gas stations, old tourist places. Everything was fascinating. It was just fun. When you’re a child looking out the back window, it was incredible.
When [my husband and I] started traveling America, I would always say to Ted, “Well, we have to go to Route 66.” It’s so America.
What are some of your favorite places to photograph on Route 66?
Hackberry General Store [in Kingman, Arizona] is probably my favorite. I’ve been there probably 200 times. ... I adore it. That car’s always been there, the old washing machine. There used to be a Corvette parked out front, an old Corvette, it’s gone now.
There’s a more modern place which is also incredible. That’s called Pops [in Arcadia, Oklahoma]. It has the bottle that’s a neon [sign] in front of a very modern eatery. That’s new in the last [20] years, which made me very happy, because that means, in fact, people are pouring money into this.
The [photo of neon signage, pictured below] where it says “motel” and “66” and “Bel Aire,” those are all in Springfield, Illinois, and it’s just a whole showcase of neon. There’s a lot of neon on Route 66.
You could be any age and love it. ... The travel of it, the pioneering of it.
How do you know when you’ve taken a good photograph?
Is there a bad photograph, is my question. The great thing about [my photos] sitting in the Library of Congress—these are for the ages. This is America now.
The thing about my photography is, I am not trying to give you art that I created. I’m not standing upside down so I can just give you something so unique that you won’t believe it. I’m showing you what I saw. I’m not taking it for me. I’m recording this for our history and to show what America looks like right this minute.
How do you approach shooting photos while on the road? What preparation goes into it?
Ted will do a lot of research getting us ready for the big road trip. I think about what I would like to take, and then there’s a lot of just spur of the moment, because we’re on the road, and why not?
We try to go everywhere because it is a time capsule of the road. Our plan is to go back out on Route 66 as a final moment in March and finish it up. I probably have everything, but I just want to make sure I have every nuance.
What do you think about the future of photography? Do you have any concerns about AI or other technological advancements?
Who am I to say, “Excuse me, don’t you dare”? People are going to dare. They’re going to do it. I had this beautiful, incredible, high-end camera that will be nothing a hundred years from now.
Times change, and things change, and processes change. Who am I to decide? I did the best I could during my time alive.
To walk the road of a creative process like this, and to understand how precious time is, and also to be able to record it, it’s just incredible to me. I won’t be here when people look at these images and say, “Whoa, what’s this Route 66?”
That’s why [giving my photos to] the Library of Congress is so important, because they’re known for preservation. If I would’ve just said, “OK, I’ve done this,” and they’re sitting in my house somewhere ... how sad.
It’s our history. It’s the history of America.
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