settlement that survived more than a century in one of the most inhospitable places in America had dwindled to less than a shadow of its former self. The bypass of Route 66 by Interstate 40 in the early 1970s, and the subsequent bulldozing of most of the town by the major land owner, Buster Burris, to avoid tax liabilities, hastened its abandonment.
There are indications that salt mining may have taken place near the site of Amboy, as it does today, shortly before the opening salvo of the Civil War. However, it was the establishment of a railroad siding and water stop by the Atlantic & Pacific Railroad in 1883 that literally put Amboy on the map.
Before the rise of Royâs Cafe, with its towering sign, Amboy was a dusty oasis in a sea of desert.
Joe Sonderman collection
As such, the little encampment languished until the establishment of the National Old Trails Highway during the teens and the designation of its replacement, U.S. 66. The
Hotel, Garage, Service Station, and AAA Club Directory
of 1927 indicates the population was one hundred and the primary service available was the J. M. Bender Garage.
Notes by Jack Rittenhouse in 1946 clearly indicate the importance of Route 66 in these remote desert communities. âPop. 264âthis desert community consists of two cafés, a garage, and café.â
The postwar travel boom and the endless stream of traffic on Route 66 kept the businesses in Amboy busy twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They also ensured continued expansion of the miniscule town, and by 1960, the business district included a motel, a second service station that offered gasoline for forty-nine cents per gallon when the national average was somewhere around twenty cents per gallon, and a very busy towing company.
The unofficial mayor of Amboy, Buster Burris, shepherded the small desert community from the infancy of its glory days to its demise. He arrived on the scene in 1938 to assist his father-in-law, Roy Howard, in the management of a motel business. This endeavor soon expanded to include a garage and café, Royâs.
By the early 1950s, Amboy was a boom-town. Three shifts of mechanics worked in the Burris garage, and there was seldom a vacancy at the motel or cabins.
With the completion of Interstate 40 in 1972, Route 66 reverted from a river of gold to an empty, forlorn stretch of dusty asphalt across a desert wilderness. Business in Amboy evaporated quicker than snow in July on the sunbaked pavement. Buster Burris, who eventually owned most of the town, kept the station going for a few more years, but the writing was on the wall.
By the late 1990s, the area population had dwindled to less than fifty. This, however, was not the final chapter.
The resurgent interest in Route 66 led chicken tycoon Albert Okura, founder of Juan Pollo and owner of the original McDonaldâs in San Bernardino, California, to purchase the entire town in 2005âincluding the airstrip, Royâs, the church, the schoolhouse, and the remaining housesâfrom Burrisâs widow, Bessie. His vision is to transform what remains into a showpiece reflecting the essence of Route 66 circa 1960.
A few miles west of Amboy, Bagdad was even tinier than its neighbor. The 1939 WPA
Guide to California
claimed the population was twenty, and the 1940 census placed it at twenty-five residents. Adding to the mental picture of just how desolate the area was, Rittenhouse says, âSkeletons of abandoned cars are frequent along the roadside.â He also records that âExcept for a few railroad shacks, this community consists solely of a service station, café, garage, and a few tourist cabins, all operated by one management. At one time, Bagdad was a roaring mining center.â
The Amboy School has long been closed.
Jim Hinckley
The tangible links to a long and colorful history in Ludlow are fast succumbing to desert winds, time, and vandals.
There are vague indications that the origins of
There are indications that salt mining may have taken place near the site of Amboy, as it does today, shortly before the opening salvo of the Civil War. However, it was the establishment of a railroad siding and water stop by the Atlantic & Pacific Railroad in 1883 that literally put Amboy on the map.
Before the rise of Royâs Cafe, with its towering sign, Amboy was a dusty oasis in a sea of desert.
Joe Sonderman collection
As such, the little encampment languished until the establishment of the National Old Trails Highway during the teens and the designation of its replacement, U.S. 66. The
Hotel, Garage, Service Station, and AAA Club Directory
of 1927 indicates the population was one hundred and the primary service available was the J. M. Bender Garage.
Notes by Jack Rittenhouse in 1946 clearly indicate the importance of Route 66 in these remote desert communities. âPop. 264âthis desert community consists of two cafés, a garage, and café.â
The postwar travel boom and the endless stream of traffic on Route 66 kept the businesses in Amboy busy twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They also ensured continued expansion of the miniscule town, and by 1960, the business district included a motel, a second service station that offered gasoline for forty-nine cents per gallon when the national average was somewhere around twenty cents per gallon, and a very busy towing company.
The unofficial mayor of Amboy, Buster Burris, shepherded the small desert community from the infancy of its glory days to its demise. He arrived on the scene in 1938 to assist his father-in-law, Roy Howard, in the management of a motel business. This endeavor soon expanded to include a garage and café, Royâs.
By the early 1950s, Amboy was a boom-town. Three shifts of mechanics worked in the Burris garage, and there was seldom a vacancy at the motel or cabins.
With the completion of Interstate 40 in 1972, Route 66 reverted from a river of gold to an empty, forlorn stretch of dusty asphalt across a desert wilderness. Business in Amboy evaporated quicker than snow in July on the sunbaked pavement. Buster Burris, who eventually owned most of the town, kept the station going for a few more years, but the writing was on the wall.
By the late 1990s, the area population had dwindled to less than fifty. This, however, was not the final chapter.
The resurgent interest in Route 66 led chicken tycoon Albert Okura, founder of Juan Pollo and owner of the original McDonaldâs in San Bernardino, California, to purchase the entire town in 2005âincluding the airstrip, Royâs, the church, the schoolhouse, and the remaining housesâfrom Burrisâs widow, Bessie. His vision is to transform what remains into a showpiece reflecting the essence of Route 66 circa 1960.
A few miles west of Amboy, Bagdad was even tinier than its neighbor. The 1939 WPA
Guide to California
claimed the population was twenty, and the 1940 census placed it at twenty-five residents. Adding to the mental picture of just how desolate the area was, Rittenhouse says, âSkeletons of abandoned cars are frequent along the roadside.â He also records that âExcept for a few railroad shacks, this community consists solely of a service station, café, garage, and a few tourist cabins, all operated by one management. At one time, Bagdad was a roaring mining center.â
The Amboy School has long been closed.
Jim Hinckley
The tangible links to a long and colorful history in Ludlow are fast succumbing to desert winds, time, and vandals.
There are vague indications that the origins of
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