John Margolies (1940–2016) spent nearly four decades photographing the most striking examples of roadside architecture across the United States. His work captures a diverse array of structures—from towering statues and fanciful billboards to modest motel signs and locally built attractions—many of which have since disappeared under the pressure of highway expansion, franchising, and shifting travel patterns.
Margolies began his project in the 1960s and continued until his death, driven by a desire to preserve images of the vernacular architecture that accompanied the American road culture. As he observed, the rise of the interstate system and the convenience of service areas had effectively left many local highways and their distinctive landmarks in the lurch. His collection, therefore, serves as a visual record of a cultural landscape that would otherwise be forgotten.
The photographs encompass a wide range of subjects: giant animal-shaped buildings, quirky signs bearing puns and wordplay, and nostalgic motifs such as the Whale Car Wash in Oklahoma City or Bob's Java Jive in Tacoma, Washington. These structures, while often dismissed as kitsch, represent the creativity of communities that built them to attract travelers along main streets and byways.
The third paragraph of the article surveys the wide range of subjects Margolies photographed, from giant animal-shaped buildings and punning signs to specific landmarks like the Whale Car Wash in Oklahoma City and Bob's Java Jive in Tacoma. This image exemplifies the kind of quirky roadside architecture his collection preserves, illustrating the creative structures that lined American byways.
In a notable gesture of preservation, the Library of Congress acquired Margolies' archive and lifted all copyright restrictions on the photographs, although any artworks depicted within the images may remain under separate copyright. The collection is now publicly accessible, offering an invaluable tour of the diverse signage and architectural forms that once lined America's roads.
Today, the archive—comprising over 11,000 color slides—is digitized and available through the Library of Congress and on Flickr, ensuring that these visual documents remain available for study and appreciation.