This is the birthplace of Route 66. I was born here.
A century after a room of highway commissioners and an auctioneer's rapid count gave a number to a dream, Americans gathered in Springfield, Missouri — the road's birthplace — to mark Route 66's hundredth year. The celebration, anchored by classic cars and the voices of those whose lives have run alongside the Mother Road, was less a look backward than a reaffirmation: that the impulse to point oneself west and move has not left the American spirit. In a year when the nation also marks its 250th birthday, the highway's centennial invites a quiet reckoning with what roads, and the freedom they carry, have always meant.
- Springfield, Missouri transformed into a living museum of chrome and nostalgia as Mustangs and their devoted owners filled the streets for the Mother Road's 100th anniversary.
- The weight of the occasion was real — for towns strung along Route 66's 2,400 miles, this centennial is not pageantry but identity, a rare moment when the outside world turns to look at them.
- Fox & Friends co-host Steve Doocy completed a three-day road trip from Tulsa through Kansas into Springfield, broadcasting the celebration live and giving the event a national platform.
- Former Representative Billy Long, Springfield-born and soon bound for Iceland as U.S. ambassador, grounded the festivities in local lore — recounting how an auctioneer's rapid-fire count landed on the number 66 and made history.
- The Springfield kickoff is only the beginning: communities nationwide are expected to carry the centennial forward throughout 2026, weaving Route 66's story into America's own 250th birthday year.
Steve Doocy arrived in Springfield, Missouri on a Thursday afternoon in late April, closing out a three-day drive that had begun in Tulsa, passed through Kansas, and ended in the town that calls itself the birthplace of Route 66. The Fox & Friends co-host broadcast live from the roadside as classic Mustangs lined the streets, their chrome catching the spring light, and locals in Route 66 merchandise gathered to mark a hundred years of the Mother Road.
For the communities along the highway's 2,400-mile stretch from Chicago to Santa Monica, Doocy observed, the centennial was no small thing. The energy in Springfield confirmed it — these were not casual onlookers but people for whom the road is woven into who they are.
Billy Long, a Springfield native and former Missouri congressman preparing to serve as U.S. ambassador to Iceland, added historical weight to the occasion. He recounted how Route 66 got its name: a room of highway commissioners envisioning a great cross-country road, and an auctioneer counting through possible route numbers until he landed on 66. The number stuck, and a legend was born.
The Springfield celebration was designed as the official launch of a yearlong national commemoration, timed to coincide with America's 250th birthday. The classic cars parked along the route were not relics — they were evidence that Route 66 remains alive, still drawing people who want to drive it, still meaning something to those who live along it and those who come searching for whatever the open road has always promised.
Steve Doocy pulled into Springfield, Missouri, on a Thursday afternoon in late April, marking the final stop of a three-day journey down Route 66. The Fox & Friends co-host had started in Tulsa, Oklahoma, driven through Kansas, and now arrived in the town that claims the distinction of being where it all began—the birthplace of the Mother Road itself, the 2,400-mile ribbon of asphalt that connects Chicago to Santa Monica and, in the process, connects America to itself.
Springfield was ready. The streets filled with classic cars—Mustangs mostly, their chrome catching the spring sun—and the people who loved them. Doocy broadcast live from the roadside, watching locals and car enthusiasts gather to mark the highway's centennial. "Everybody today here in Springfield is wearing their Route 66 merch," he said during the segment, taking in the scene. The energy was unmistakable. These were not casual observers. For the towns along Route 66, Doocy noted, "this is a very big deal."
Former Missouri Representative Billy Long was there too, soon to be the U.S. ambassador to Iceland, lending his voice to the occasion. Long had been born in Springfield, and he spoke with the certainty of someone whose roots ran deep into the place. "This is the birthplace of Route 66," he said. "I was born here. Route 66 was born here." He told the story of how the highway got its name—how a group of highway commissioners had envisioned an intercontinental road cutting across the country, and how an auctioneer in the room, counting through possible route numbers in his rapid-fire style, landed on 66. The number stuck. The road was born.
What was happening in Springfield on that Thursday was more than a local celebration. It was the official kickoff of a nationwide commemoration. Communities across the country were expected to join in throughout the year, marking not just the highway's hundred years but also America's 250th birthday. Route 66 had been born in 1926, and a century later, people still wanted to drive it, still wanted to remember what it meant—the freedom, the movement, the sense that you could point yourself west and go.
Doocy's three-day trip had been a kind of pilgrimage, a way of touching the places and meeting the people who kept the spirit of the Mother Road alive. The classic cars lined up in Springfield were not museum pieces. They were living proof that Route 66 was not just history. It was still here, still moving, still mattering to the people who lived along it and the people who came to drive it.
Citações Notáveis
In these towns, this is a very big deal.— Steve Doocy, Fox & Friends co-host
This is the birthplace of Route 66. I was born here. Route 66 was born here.— Billy Long, former Missouri representative
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does a hundred-year-old highway still draw crowds like this? What's the actual pull?
Route 66 is one of the few American things that still feels like it belongs to everyone. It's not locked behind a paywall or a membership. You can drive it. You can touch it. For a lot of people, especially in these smaller towns, it's their connection to something bigger than themselves.
But there are plenty of old highways. Why this one?
Because Route 66 was the first one that felt like an idea—a deliberate attempt to stitch the country together. And it worked. It became the symbol of American mobility, of possibility. When you drive it now, you're not just driving a road. You're driving through a story.
Billy Long mentioned an auctioneer naming it. That's an odd detail. Does that actually matter?
It matters because it's true, and it's specific. It grounds the highway in a real moment, a real person making a real choice. It's not some abstract government decision. It's a man in a room, counting, and landing on a number that would echo for a hundred years.
What do you think happens next with all these centennial events?
Some will be big, some will be small. But they'll all be doing the same thing—reminding people that Route 66 is still here, still worth paying attention to. That matters more than you'd think in a country that's always looking forward.