I-11 - Households, Houses, Roads, and Other Creations.
Have you ever built a house? It can be difficult. But, if you build it the way you want it, and love being there more than any place else on earth, the thought of it's destruction can be too much to bear. So please understand what Helen and Eric Mellen are going through now. They did most of the labor to construct their dream home by themselves during the 1990's as funds became available. Now an interstate highway may replace it, or at least cut through the peaceful desert and designated wildlife corridor near their porch.
I-11 - The McGuinness Extended Family At Their Sunday Gathering
Here stands four generations of the McGuinness clan on land that has been the family focal point for over 40 years. Some live here in three lovely homes representing countless hours of time and energy. It's where the extended family gathers every Sunday to share food and learn what's new in each others lives. But these precious acres are in danger of being paved over by a four lane highway.
Carrie, Eric, Genevieve, and Brenden #1
Carrie and Eric found the perfect house. As Carrie says they 'aren't city people'. So this neighborhood, 45 minutes from Eric's job at the Phoenix airport, surrounded by desert, and blessed with little crime, seemed ideal. This was the rural environment they wanted for raising their children, Genevieve and Brenden, in safety, and close to wild nature. But three months after buying their dream home they were surprised with terrible news. No one told them they had chosen a spot inside the designated 2000 foot wide corridor somewhere within which Interstate 11 may be built. Only 400 feet of the 2000-foot corridor width would actually be scraped for the roadway. So it could miss them and take out other houses instead. But then they'd be living next to a noisy interstate – not what they bought into.
I-11 - Edna, Butch, and Slick #2
Edna and Butch did everything right. They both worked hard all their lives, raised a family, and owned a home in a Tucson subdivision. In 2009 they found a fine house out of town where they could enjoy the quiet in their well-earned retirement. It was a place with plenty of dirt roads to ride their ATV's, and a good place for their children and grandchildren to visit and enjoy the desert. Two years ago they learned that their “one last home” lies in the proposed corridor for interstate 11.
Brian says he's always lived where “I don't have someone next to me”. It's important to this third generation Arizona native to be able to step outside and see big sky views without any traffic noise. But the quiet seclusion of his neighborhood may soon be destroyed because his home lies within the proposed corridor for interstate 11. Brian doesn't understand why they want to put the road through here where so many people live. Lots of people don't understand it, and lots of people are, like Brian, in danger of losing their homes.
Petroglyphs left by prehistoric nomads, speak of the land's long history in two ways: The artists probably scratched the rock's dark surface hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. And the chemical reactions that formed the dark surface itself, known as desert varnish, likely took thousands more. These venerable symbols of prehistory lie smack in the middle of the planned corridor for Interstate 11, and could be removed. At best, they would end up right next to the busy highway. Then the special silence that surrounded this spot for millennia would suddenly be gone forever.
Petroglyphs left by prehistoric nomads, speak of the land's long history in two ways: The artists probably scratched the rock's dark surface hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. And the chemical reactions that formed the dark surface itself, known as desert varnish, likely took thousands more. These venerable symbols of prehistory lie smack in the middle of the planned corridor for Interstate 11, and could be removed. At best, they would end up right next to the busy highway. Then the special silence that surrounded this spot for millennia would suddenly be gone forever.
Petroglyphs left by prehistoric nomads, speak of the land's long history in two ways: The artists probably scratched the rock's dark surface hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. And the chemical reactions that formed the dark surface itself, known as desert varnish, likely took thousands more. These venerable symbols of prehistory lie smack in the middle of the planned corridor for Interstate 11, and could be removed. At best, they would end up right next to the busy highway. Then the special silence that surrounded this spot for millennia would suddenly be gone forever.
Petroglyphs left by prehistoric nomads, speak of the land's long history in two ways: The artists probably scratched the rock's dark surface hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. And the chemical reactions that formed the dark surface itself, known as desert varnish, likely took thousands more. These venerable symbols of prehistory lie smack in the middle of the planned corridor for Interstate 11, and could be removed. At best, they would end up right next to the busy highway. Then the special silence that surrounded this spot for millennia would suddenly be gone forever.
Petroglyphs left by prehistoric nomads, speak of the land's long history in two ways: The artists probably scratched the rock's dark surface hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. And the chemical reactions that formed the dark surface itself, known as desert varnish, likely took thousands more. These venerable symbols of prehistory lie smack in the middle of the planned corridor for Interstate 11, and could be removed. At best, they would end up right next to the busy highway. Then the special silence that surrounded this spot for millennia would suddenly be gone forever.
Petroglyphs left by prehistoric nomads, speak of the land's long history in two ways: The artists probably scratched the rock's dark surface hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. And the chemical reactions that formed the dark surface itself, known as desert varnish, likely took thousands more. These venerable symbols of prehistory lie smack in the middle of the planned corridor for Interstate 11, and could be removed. At best, they would end up right next to the busy highway. Then the special silence that surrounded this spot for millennia would suddenly be gone forever.
A hope and a dream. That's what Emmitt and Leila Williams have. A dream of living in their new house now being built west of the Tucson Mountains. And the hope that Interstate 11 won't happen, at least not along the route proposed by the AZ Dept of Transportation. If it is, their home could be destroyed. Or at best a four lane superhighway would dominate their wild desert view, and cross one of Pima County's designated wildlife corridors.
A hope and a dream. That's what Emmitt and Leila Williams have. A dream of living in their new house now being built west of the Tucson Mountains. And the hope that Interstate 11 won't happen, at least not along the route proposed by the AZ Dept of Transportation. If it is, their home could be destroyed. Or at best a four lane superhighway would dominate their wild desert view, and cross one of Pima County's designated wildlife corridors.
A hope and a dream. That's what Emmitt and Leila Williams have. A dream of living in their new house now being built west of the Tucson Mountains. And the hope that Interstate 11 won't happen, at least not along the route proposed by the AZ Dept of Transportation. If it is, their home could be destroyed. Or at best a four lane superhighway would dominate their wild desert view, and cross one of Pima County's designated wildlife corridors.
A hope and a dream. That's what Emmitt and Leila Williams have. A dream of living in their new house now being built west of the Tucson Mountains. And the hope that Interstate 11 won't happen, at least not along the route proposed by the AZ Dept of Transportation. If it is, their home could be destroyed. Or at best a four lane superhighway would dominate their wild desert view, and cross one of Pima County's designated wildlife corridors.
Jackie and Corey Smith are proud of the big saguaros and other native plants on their property near Sandario Road west of the Tucson Mountains. And they love the natural beauty of the surrounding desert. They bought the property because they wanted a peaceful life in a rural setting far away from noisy traffic. But their quiet neighborhood may soon change if interstate 11 is built along the Arizona Department of Transportation's preferred route. The four lane highway would run just beyond their backyard fence, unless ADOT's second choice is selected. Then they would loose their home entirely.