It’s hard to imagine anyone taking pleasure in traveling Interstate 30 between Fort Worth and Dallas, except perhaps a NASCAR driver with a death wish.
But on a warm Tuesday morning in August 1957, it was glorious jubilation for every driver who motored onto the new six-lane highway: 29.8 miles of vast, stoplight-free concrete, a bucolic journey that took only 30 minutes at a zippy 60 mph.
This was the first toll road in Texas history, officially called the Dallas-Fort Worth Turnpike — although for years, the Star-Telegram referred to it as, ahem, the Fort Worth-Dallas Turnpike.
The modern $58.5 million freeway, carved through rolling farms and prairie, reduced the drive time between the (then) distant cities by half.
Folks were happy to pay 50 cents — equivalent to $5.52 today — to experience “one of the safest highways in America,” the Star-Telegram reported in 1957.
Indeed, only five minor accidents had been reported by the 11th day, when the road was ceremoniously dedicated at one of two Glass House Restaurants that served as midpoint stops in Arlington.
By November 1957, three months after opening, the turnpike counted its 1 millionth customer: E.W. Locker, a 28-year-old from Arlington Heights who was commuting to the new General Motors plant in Arlington.
He was escorted to the service area of the toll plaza (which was just east of Oakland Boulevard) to have his photo taken, then driven to Dallas for more photos and treated to two free meals at the Glass House, a tank of gas and a 50-cent piece to cover his toll. Needless to say, he was late to work that day.
Speaking of the Glass House, which later would become a Howard Johnson, it is noteworthy that the roadside restaurant was not segregated at a time when nearly all others were.
That fact prompted a Star-Telegram story in December 1957 that quoted the food supervisor for the restaurant, Betty Crocker, saying the integrated dining room didn’t seem to bother anyone. Glass House was owned by the Texas Turnpike Authority and operated by the Interstate Company of Chicago.
“Being a toll road, it must be handled that way,” Crocker told a reporter. “They pay their tolls to get on the pike and they’re entitled to our facilities.”
Turnpike ridership ended up exceeding expectations by the mid-1970s, and the bond debt used to build the pike was paid off 17 years ahead of schedule.
On Dec. 31, 1977, the turnpike was “freed,” but not without controversy. After years of debate, legal wrangling and ultimately some legislative intervention, the tolls were lifted and the turnpike was renamed Interstate 30.
It was the end of an era that, oddly, stoked a lot of nostalgia among Fort Worth folks.
A 17-year-old named David Persons camped out in his car for two hours ahead of the 6 a.m. switch on New Year’s Eve, so he could be the first person from the turnpike’s Fort Worth end to ride the “freepike” without paying the 60 cents.
The Arlington Heights High School junior shrugged when asked why he had stayed up all night just to be the first one through, the Star-Telegram reported on the front page.
“Just something to tell my grandkids, I guess,” Persons told the reporter.
Others stopped by that day to pay a final thanks to the toll attendants who had “served them graciously for two decades.”
A driver named A.C. Abbott of Arlington felt his voice choking with emotion as he accepted a ticket for the last time, the Star-Telegram wrote.
As for the toll attendants, they spent their final days on the job reminiscing.
“Two times I remember someone coming through nude,” Otis Spears recalled about his eight years collecting quarters. “Once there was a woman in the back seat without anything on. Another time there was a lady with just a coat on top — just a coat, nothing else. She just smiled real big and got her ticket and went on through.”
The turnpike was a big deal at the time. And in retrospect, it’s significance is even more remarkable. That ribbon-cutting in 1957 set in motion the pace and patterns of growth that would eventually forge the concept of the “Metroplex.”
The freeway fueled burgeoning industry and development in Arlington, including the 1961 opening of Six Flags Over Texas, and the minor league Turnpike Stadium in 1965 — the origin story of the Rangers’ Globe Life Field. The turnpike spawned commuter suburbs that sprawled across the rural pockets between Fort Worth and Dallas, which, before the highway, seemed much more distant from each other.
The toll plazas are now long gone. Interstate 30 today has many more lanes, exits, flyovers and traffic jams. And driving from Fort Worth to Dallas once again can take as long as an hour, just like it did before the turnpike opened.
Here’s a look at photos from the Star-Telegram’s archives of the construction, opening and eventual demise of the Dallas-Fort Wor .... oops, we mean Fort Worth-Dallas Turnpike.