Hank Billings, who is described as the Ozarks columnist for the News-Leader newspaper in Springfield, Mo., wrote today about his and another woman’s memories of Devils Elbow, a town along Route 66 in mid-Missouri.
It’s a good and informative read. What struck me, however, is how that driving into Devils Elbow even today is like going back in time.
First, you have the Elbow Inn. I’ve heard people talk about it being a biker bar. It is that: the jukebox is loaded with CCR, Steppenwolf, AC/DC, Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Cult. The waitresses are nice, but you know they don’t put up with any shenanigans. One of the informal traditions at the Elbow Inn is for women to tack their bras to the ceiling. Their T-shirts, which sell out quickly every time Elbow Inn orders a new batch, are — how shall I say this — irreverent.
Yet it’s more than just a biker bar. It’s also a hangout for locals, Fort Leonard Wood soldiers and Route 66 travelers. It’s a hangout for a fat shepherd mix who’s apparently good at begging for scraps just outside the front door. It serves delicious barbecue that’s made from the same smoker used since the 1930s. It’s the type of place that once you have a seat, you’re tempted to stay awhile and take in the local color. It’s the type of place, if you stopped there 15 years ago, it’ll still be there if you go back tomorrow.
The Elbow Inn is near a 1920s steel-truss bridge that traverses the Big Piney River. Because traffic is light, you can easily walk to the middle of the bridge, gaze out at the river and marvel at the humongous limestone cliffs that overlook the town.
Across the river is Sheldon’s Market, which houses a general store and the town’s post office. The place looks like it hasn’t changed in 50 years or more. It’s a good place to get a Coke, a candy bar or maybe a souvenir.
Devils Elbow isn’t much. I doubt there are more than 100 people in the city proper. It’s barely even on the maps. But it’s one of those places that makes me love Route 66.