Mildred Barker, longtime co-owner of the Truxton Cafe and Frontier Motel in the Route 66 hamlet of Truxton, Ariz., died Thursday at age 87, according to an obituary today in the Kingman Daily Miner.
Ray and Mildred Barker purchased the Truxton cafe and its attached motel in 1957. She and her husband were born in Oklahoma, and Mildred said she grew up near Route 66 there. Both were active in the Historic Route 66 Association of Arizona. Ray Barker died in 1990.
Until a few months ago, Mildred had continued to run the cafe. The recently published book by Roger Naylor, “Arizona Kicks on Route 66,” said:
Truxton barely qualifies as a wide spot in the road, but that’s all you need for pie. The Frontier Cafe […] shows some wear. Stools at the counter are wobbly, but so was I after so many desserts. They make everything from scratch, including pie. I ordered coconut cream because it sounded decadently tropical in this sun-spanked outback. Plus, it’s not a personal favorite, so it would be easier to push away.
My plan backfired at the first bite. It was rich without being overly sweet and reminded me of a pie my grandmother once made for me. It’s a memory that hadn’t stirred for decades and it flooded back by the forkful. That is the power of pie.
A phone call today confirmed that the motel is still operating, but the cafe remains closed.
An article in the Los Angeles Times in 1988 profiled the Barkers and their Route 66 businesses:
Ray and Mildred Barker’s Frontier Cafe and Motel sits on the shoulder of what had been U.S. 66 in Truxton, one of the many towns broken by the new interstate. Their only customer, a local rancher, finished his coffee and drifted out. Barker, 62, pulled down the shades and locked the door. It was 7 p.m., and with no rooms rented that night and no traffic on the ghost road, he didn’t bother to turn on the neon “vacancy” sign outside.
“Before the road changed,” he said of Interstate 40 that runs 20 miles south of Truxton, “I’d say we had 10,000 vehicles a day passing here. Then all of a sudden, and I mean all of a sudden, when they opened the bypass, we dropped to about 300, and that was mostly locals. We worked two shifts with nine employees. Now it’s just my wife and me, with our daughter helping out, and we close up at 7 instead of 10.
“Complaints? Not really. You may not make a lot of money, but you still eat, you have a bed, you have warmth. All in all, I don’t know that a man needs much more than that. I can always look around and find people a lot worse off.”
“You know,” his wife said, “I’ve lived along 66 all my life. Sayre, Oklahoma . . . Grants, New Mexico, and here. This highway’s like family.”
From behind the cash register, she took out a guest register she had started in a stenographer’s notebook. In it were the names of recent travelers from Switzerland, France, Holland, England — people who had paused in their journey to find America’s most famous road West.
An item in RootsWeb had this anecdote and the Barkers’ affable relationships with the local Native American tribes:
Mildred speaks of some of their fondest memories when they carried the mail to the Supai people. They would bring their lunch to the hilltop and enjoy lunch together. Supai friends then would come by and see them at Truxton.
Visitation will be from 9 to 10:30 a.m. Aug. 15, at Sutton Memorial Funeral Home in Kingman. The funeral will follow at 11 a.m. that day at Mountain View Cemetery in Kingman.
UPDATE 8/12/2012: A more detailed obituary appeared in the Kingman Daily Miner.
(Hat tip: Mike Ward)
Went thru and stopped there in October of 1999. Mildred waited on us. I had brought a Bob Waldmire postcard of their place and had her autograph it for me. Those are the best souvenirs and memories one can have of being on 66.
Rich, Big Red and Rest of Queen Montana’s legacy.
Thank you Ron for seeing to it that Mildred and Raymond Barker were remembered ONE LAST TIME, we feel like we are losing the activity of the mother road over again. Mildred and Raymond are relatives and Route 66 is our relative as well.You may only see her once a year, but the reunion was always great.
Mildred was my aunt. I have only met her about 5 times. Aunt Mildred and my mother looked like twins. I find comfort knowing that they are together again, looking down on all of us.