It is a common progression, one which happens the same way almost every time. A civilization is born, it grows toward a Golden Age and then, because of some inherent flaw, it fades and dies. Eons pass until archeologists, armed with picks, shovels and whisk brooms, unearth the remains and set about trying to reconstruct the architecture of that long ago time and place. When the scholars think they have a fairly good idea what the structures looked like, artists are brought in to do renderings. The very last step is to have a model made complete in every known detail. David Malcolm Rose is an artist who cuts to the chase. Since 1989, he has worked on "The Lost Highway," a series of detailed scale models of the remains of twentieth century American road culture. When Rose started driving around this country in the late sixties the interstate was not continuous. The main route went through towns of every size and only the largest cities were by-passed. Even where the interstate was complete the interchanges were barren. In order to get gas, food and lodging one had to leave the four-lane and drive a mile or so into town. Recent decades have brought about a complete reversal in many places. All services are now only available along the limited access highway while the center of most towns is deserted. One can still get a tank of gas, burgers and fries and a room for the night at almost every exit, but, in all probability, it will be a Shell Superstop, Burger King, Motel 6 or some other conglomerates outlet. The interstate system provided a breeding ground and conduit for the chains that have come to dominate almost every aspect of our lives. The services are still there, but the independent operator is gone. Gone also is individual thought, originality, and, to a great degree, regional diversity. Not only is the country rapidly becoming homogenized but we are losing that core of independent townsmen who owned and operated their own business and formed the backbone of most communities. Driving the old road, the remains of commercial buildings can still be seen and Rose's work springs from these. With unflinching eye he recreates in miniature the gas stations, hamburger stands and tourists courts of yesteryear. In the process he creates a portrait of the people who made their living by the side of the road and tells the story of the end of an era. It is fitting that he do this because, after all, the past is the past whether it is the golden age of Greece, ancient Egypt or simply back in the "good old days" when cars had tail fins. It is, none of it, retrievable. Attendants don't pump gas, women in bathing caps no longer dive into motel pools and today's hamburger drive-ins don't feature light-up sputniks, but the shells of these businesses can be found along the secondary roads of America. These abandoned commercial buildings are not part of some ancient history but they represent a culture that is gone as surely as that of Imperial Rome or Pre-Columbian Mexico. "When I was a kid I wanted to be an archeologist but my lack-luster performance in the more conventional phases of my education put a damper on that dream. It was for the best, I never did care for pick and shovel work. The truth is, we judge a society by the remains it leaves behind and will, in turn, be judged by what we choose to abandon."DMR In this country we are making a rather marked change in the way business is handled in our communities. A few short years ago, commerce on the local level was primarily handled by men and women who owned their own business. For the most part, these owner/operators lived in the same town as their businesses. In many cases, they actually lived above or behind the store. There was no clear line of distinction between their loyalty to their business and their loyalty to the town. Today, local commerce is being dominated by the chain outlets of global corporations and big box conglomerates. There is very little personal involvement between the business entity and the community. Corporate headquarters are in distant cities, franchise owners may live elsewhere as well, and store managers often reside across town. At best, the only people involved in the business who may actually live in the neighborhood are employees at the lowest level. In this new business model, loyalty is only to the corporate logo and not to the community. This is a major societal change from what we have known in the past and it may not be possible to predict what the ramifications will be. The history of civilization is ripe with examples of societies that made seemingly minor changes and wound up with major results. The Hopewell Indian culture flourished along the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers from before the birth of Christ. They built pyramid mounds nearing 100 feet high, lived in cities numbering in the thousands and fashioned fine artifacts from copper, mica, shells and fresh water pearls. Around 400 AD, the culture mysteriously disappeared. By 800 AD a second culture of mound builders had developed to take their place. Although similar in many ways, these new people were different enough to be given a separate name, the Mississippian. What caused this 400 year gap in the progress of this particular civilization? There is speculation that the introduction of corn from Meso-America may have been responsible. This new, far more productive, grain could have easily upset the status quo. Perhaps the ruling priests, failing to recognize the potential power of the new corn god, aligned themselves with the wrong faction and the whole social order fell as a result. This change from owner operator to absentee ownership that we are experiencing may not be as dramatic as the introduction of corn but, than again, it just may. This much is known, it is impossible to predict the long range outcome of social changes. Along the back roads and side streets of America, the abandoned shells of small, independently operated, commercial properties can be found and David Malcolm Rose, like a modern day Piranesi, faithfully records what remains. Perhaps some day these miniature constructions will find their way into some sort of Museum of the 20th century. "Who knows, in the future we may want to find our way back to the times when business leaders and community leaders shared common interests. If that happens, these models may be as useful to us as bread crumbs were to Hansel and Gretel." DMR