CREEDE HINSHAW: Keeping the faith on I-22

I’ve stopped at many interstate rest stops in my life. It feels good to crawl out of the car and stretch one’s legs. It is also pleasant to visit the Welcome Stations sponsored by each state along the way. I never refuse a glass of orange juice at the Florida Welcome Station.

A couple of weeks ago, while driving west on I-22, which stretches from Birmingham almost all the way to Memphis, I stopped at the Mississippi Welcome Center where I had a pleasant conversation with one of the attendants.

But what captured my attention occurred as I was returning to my car. I saw a couple of men on a blanket on the grounds. At first glance I thought they were enjoying a picnic. But their posture wasn’t right for a picnic. A closer look revealed that they were not on a blanket. They were on two carpets. And they were kneeling, heads bowed to the ground.

I realized these men were praying. It was 4 p.m. They were Muslims. A glance at the horizon told me they were facing eastward.

I returned to my car impressed. The only prayer I’ve ever offered at a welcome station would have been sitting at a picnic table eating a sandwich. I have never pulled off at a welcome station specifically to remain true to my faith and offer a public prayer. I would have loved to have had a conversation with these men, but to have done so would have been intrusive, so I drove on toward Tupelo. But it made me happy to see in one of the deepest of Deep South states followers of Mohammad praying publicly. I’m glad we live in such a diverse religious nation.

A second interstate story involves my love/hate relationship with interstate highway billboards and the industry that erects these noxious, invasive, metal weeds that despoil the landscape and insult the intelligence.

Incidentally, Interstate 22 (see first story) is one of the most beautiful interstates in the South. It traverses isolated rolling hills covered with pine; there are no service stations, fast food shacks or desperate lawyer billboards.

Interstate 75 tragically more than makes up for I-22’s lack of billboards. I dare motorists to drive north or south on that highway without reading the messages on these monstrous poles.

Despite my billboard revulsion, I had to laugh out loud at the hilarious pairing of two billboards going northbound through Forsyth. The first sign was a fiery message erected by evangelists determined to scare us out of eternal damnation. In an economy of words the billboard, complete with toll free number, asked, “Heaven or Hell: Which Will it Be?”

Nestled next to the flames of hell was a hotel billboard, the main feature of the message being a huge black arrow and the command: “Exit Here”

Get off the road! Exit! Now! I couldn’t stop chuckling over the heavenly (or hellish) escape invitation.

Though I kept on driving, had I convinced myself that the intersection would have taken me to a place with no billboards, which would certainly be heavenly, I would have exited immediately.