From Deseret News archives:
Devil isn't in old road number
Two months ago, the Utah State Legislature officially killed off the last of Route 666 — the 17-mile stretch of U.S. highway between Monticello and the Colorado state line. Earlier, officials in Colorado and New Mexico similarly drove a stake through the heart of the road bearing what many people believe the Book of Revelations reveals as the devil's number.
Highway 666, all 190 tortured miles of two-lane, is now only a memory. It has been reincarnated, if that's the right word, as Highway 491, a number so benign even people who rub a rabbit's foot, never step on cracks and hold their breath past graveyards can't think of a single reason to knock on wood about it.
The movement to change the devilish road number has been brewing for some time. In the past few years the heat was turned way up in New Mexico, where over 100 miles of the allegedly damned highway connects the Colorado border with Gallup and I-40. In 1926, when 666 came to be, I-40 was Route 66 and 666 was the sixth extension off one of the country's most fabled pre-freeway byways. Hence the name. It had nothing to do with The Son of the Morning.
And never has, as far as Rowley is concerned.
"There's never been any significance to the number of that road," said the lifelong Monticello resident as he finished off a steak at Bev's Barn restaurant half a mile from the intersection that marks the beginning, or the end, of the newly numbered highway. "Have we noticed any difference around here? Yes. We noticed they changed the number."
The veteran police officer got a wry smile on his face. "We've had horrible wrecks on 666, but we've had horrible wrecks on 191," he said, referring to the other way into and out of town. "It's had nothing to do with the number. I've never heard anybody whatsoever say it was a big deal. Even after they told us it was a big deal no one around here thought it was a big deal."
"It had to be people from not in the area (who pushed for the change)," he said. "You know, Utah will do anything to keep the tourists coming. If a guy from New York tells us to change our highway signs, we'll change them."
Rowley, 56, has a brother who lives in Cortez, Colo., 60 miles along old 666. "I've drove that road a lot," he said. "I've never been scared to drive to Cortez."
Or, for that matter, to the resort town of Purgatory, another 60 miles to the northwest. (Even before the number change, the Devil's Highway veered south before it got to Purgatory, as if even the devil himself didn't want to go to hell).
"I know there are superstitious people out there," said the officer, "but, really, since they changed the number, it hasn't made any difference. The devil, he doesn't have enough time for us anyway. He's got other places with a lot more people to work on."
As he finished his dinner and headed out of Bev's Barn to hop in his patrol car to help keep the peace, the officer did manage one note of optimism about the number change.
"Tell you what, let's hope there is something to it," he said. "Let's hope there's never ever another wreck out there now that it's 491."
Lee Benson's column runs Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Please send e-mail to benson@desnews.com and faxes to 801-237-2527.
