My name is David, and I am a . . . license plate spotter.
It all started when I was a kid, somewhere near Nebraska. We’d found all the letters in the alphabet on road signs. We’d gone through Auto Bingo at least two or three times. The only activity any of us kids could think of involved fighting with each other.
Then Mom had an inspiration. “Let’s see how many license plates from different states we can find.” That led to a new contest, more sibling squabbles, and a lifelong fascination (for me at least) with license plate spotting.
Other kids did it, too. Urchins in station wagons or coupes could be seen peering out car windows, trying to find Illinois (“Land of Lincoln”) or Louisiana (“Sportsman’s Paradise”) or Minnesota (“Land of 10,000 Lakes”) before their brothers or sisters did.
“My parents used that game to keep us contented,” recalled Evanston resident Robert Kennedy. “I used to spot license plates when I was a kid. . .,” his unsaid implication being, “but then I grew up and grew out of it.”
Some people, however, never grow out of the license plate fascination. A childhood game becomes a habit, a hobby or maybe even an obsession.
“We live near Interstate 79, which goes from Ontario to Florida,” says West Virginian Gary Brent Kincade. “That puts us in a good position to see cars from all over the country. I still look for different plates,” says Kincade, a license plate collector who counts more than 11,000 licenses in his collection.
You know you’re a license plate spotter if . . . you drive five miles out of your way just to pass through a neighborhood known to have unusual plates . . . you pass an unfamiliar plate, then go around the block just to get another look . . . you stop and back your car up just to check out a plate, no matter what kind of a traffic hazard it may cause (“But officer, that was Rhode Island back there! Don’t you understand–Rhode Island! “).
Why should anybody care about license plates from the 50 United States and the District of Columbia (or for that matter, Canada, Mexico, Europe or anywhere else)? If nothing else, they serve as an antidote for highway hypnosis. In pre-highway beautification days, motorists had mileposts to the Wall Drug Store, birdhouses advertising Rock City, and five-part jewels of folk wisdom sponsored by Burma Shave to keep their minds alert. Spotting an exotic license plate can serve the same function.
For others, license plate spotting is a generational rite of passage. Those same kiddies who once looked for license plates instead of pounding their siblings now are the parents doing the driving. They start their own kids on the license plate game.
Some people consider the thrill of the hunt, the chance to go after a specific prey.
But the most enduring thrill from license plate spotting comes from the plates themselves. License plates are a state-sanctioned form of folk art and can be an effective means of advertisement. Look at them and you can learn a little history, geography, economics and culture.
At first, license plates served purely as a means of identification. The plate was designed to help identify the car should it be lost or stolen. Often, early plates were designed for police efficiency rather than motorist enjoyment. Utah for years had white lettering against a black background–boring as anything for a license plate spotter but considered to be the easiest color combination for police officers pursuing nighttime speeders.
Other color combinations also have stories behind them. Wisconsin’s current plates have red letters on a white background. Originally they were blue on white, the same as Illinois. Wisconsin expatriates claim the state made the color change to red because there was too much confusion. Wisconsin State Police allegedly were arresting too many Wisconsinites for speeding (creating no net gain for the state’s economy) instead of their intended prey, Illinois tourists. To this day, some states retain simple color patterns unchanged through the eons. Connecticut and Michigan both have white on blue patterns. Delaware’s is gold on blue.
But even these states attach a motto that tells something about themselves. Connecticut boasts of being the “Constitution State” because of the Connecticut-sponsored compromise that led to the adoption of the document. Delaware, the “First State,” was the initial state to ratify the Constitution. Michigan crows about its “Great Lakes.”
Other states dot their licenses with the state’s map. New Hampshire, New Jersey, Florida, Ohio, Texas and Minnesota are among the states placing mini-maps on the license plates. West Virginia’s yellow state outline takes up half the plate.
Many more states choose to boast about their natural or historical resources. Anyone who stayed awake through 4th grade geography can tell you what state has the Statue of Liberty or Mt. Rushmore Memorial or Mt. Rainier on its license plates. Others have pictures that are no less symbolic of the state: a lobster (Maine), racehorses (Kentucky), a peach (Georgia), wheat (Kansas). Iowa briefly had a “Field of Dreams” license plate, in wake of the popular baseball movie. North Carolina, where the Wright Brothers once flew an airplane at Kitty Hawk, celebrates the historic occasion as “First in Flight.”
Other states have symbols not necessarily unique to the state but which the state wishes to claim for its own. Colorado cannot boast of being the only state with mountains, but it is the only one with mountain silhouettes on its license plate. Anyone in the country might see a rainbow after a summer storm. But only Hawaiians, by affixing the colorful arcs to their plates, claim a worldwide celestial phenomenon as a state tourist attraction.
Some plates are just plain bizarre. North Dakota’s plate shows a buffalo, a shock of wheat and miles of nothingness. “Discover the Spirit,” it implores. North Dakota has no large cities, no large mountains and few if any natural wonders worth advertising. But it does have “the Spirit,” whatever that is.
Even stranger is New Mexico’s plate. The red-on-yellow license from the “Land of Enchantment” proclaims “New Mexico USA.” It’s their way of letting geography class dropouts know that tourists need not take crash Spanish courses or convert their dollars into pesos before heading west from El Paso, Texas.
Where does Illinois fit in on the license plate parade? A recent Tribune editorial described our state’s plates as “not exactly picturesque to begin with” and “getting a little boring after all these years.” Cynics might compare the license plate with a tour of the state in January–gray skies, white on the bottom, and nothing of interest to look at.
Many states, including Illinois, now have more than the general-issue license plate. For a few dollars extra, motorists can tout their pet causes. Specialized Florida plates in recent years showed the space shuttle Challenger, a manatee, a Florida panther, the state’s quincentennial, Purple Heart veterans, the U.S. Olympic team and about a dozen Florida colleges. Florida officials estimated the state has garnered more than $160 million from these specialty plates. Illinois recently began issuing “designer” licenses. The new plate, with a cardinal and wild grass, is one of the most attractive in the nation.
Fortunately, the Chicago area is a garden of Eden for those with an eye for metallic auto art. Chicago, as a major highway crossroads of the nation, attracts visitors from all 50 states. Anyone driving around local streets may find a plate from anywhere at any time. But some places are particularly happy license plate hunting grounds.
General: The Museum of Science and Industry, Chicago’s most popular tourist attraction, is also the license spotter’s heaven. It’s a slow day when fewer than 20 different plates adorn the museum’s parking lot. A recent visit uncovered plates from Kansas, Ohio, Louisiana, Wisconsin, Indiana, Missouri, Texas, Arizona, Virginia, Pennsylvania (“You’ve got a friend in Pennsylvania”), Tennessee (celebrating its BicenTENNial), Nebraska, Oklahoma, Kentucky, New Jersey, California, Idaho (with a mountain scene but touting “Famous potatoes”), and a purple-and-yellow specialty plate honoring Salish Kootenai College in Montana.
Eastern United States: The academically distinguished University of Chicago has the reputation of being a Harvard of the Midwest. As a result, many Easterners flock here. They take their cars–and their cars’ license plates–with them.
Western United States: Evanston and Rogers Park seem to contain an inordinate number of license plates from Western states. Maybe Northwestern University has the reputation of being the Stanford of the Midwest and thus attracts Westerners. Loyola draws students north of New Orleans and east of Los Angeles (other Loyola universities) seeking a Jesuit education.
Southern United States: Chicago’s Uptown neighborhood used to be a major port of entry for Southern whites. That’s not as much the case anymore, but the area is still a good place to look for Kentucky, Tennessee and Alabama licenses.
Mississippi: They called it the Great Migration. Thousands of Southern African-Americans, mainly from Mississippi, settled in Chicago. Many found homes on the West Side. Their descendents still live there, and Mississippi relatives come to visit them.
Texas: Just as Mississippians settled on the West Side, so did Mexican-Americans from the Southwest, particularly Texas, come to Pilsen. Recent Texas arrivals, or relatives of Pilsenites, can be seen driving cars with Lone Star flags on their plates.
Florida: Arlington Park racetrack habitually attracts summer visitors from the Sunshine State. If you can’t find a Florida plate elsewhere, head for a day at the races.
Nevada and Maine: Look for trucks. True, the truck plates lack pictures of lobsters and lakes. But an inordinate number of truck license plates bear the names of these two sparsely populated states.
Utah: The Mormon temple on Lake Avenue in Glenview is one of the largest Mormon churches in the Midwest. If visitors drive in from the church’s Salt Lake City headquarters, they will be driving cars with Utah plates.
Hawaii: Just what is a car with a Hawaii license plate doing in Chicago, anyway? A driver once explained that he was stationed at a local military base and had just transferred from the islands. So if you want the least illogical local place to find a Hawaii license plate, head north to Great Lakes Naval Base. But don’t hold your breath until you find one.
Michigan: Call 312-782-1122. That’s the phone number of the University of Michigan Club of Chicago. A recorded message informs callers of locations of upcoming events. Go there, and you’ll likely encounter some visiting ‘Ganders and their license plates.
Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Michigan, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania: Nobody claims Northwestern to be a football powerhouse, but games at Dyche Stadium draw good crowds, including fans from visiting schools. Of course, if you have to go here just to find a plate from any of the above states, then your talents might not be in the license-plate-spotting field anyway.
Burger King spotting, anyone?
HERE’S A CHANCE TO FORM YOUR OWN CLUB
There is no known club for license plate spotters. Perhaps that is because license plate spotting is somewhat unusual, like believing that the Earth is flat (but even flat-Earthers have their own society).
The license plates themselves do have their admirers, however. There is an Automobile License Plate Collectors Association. There is a License Plate Keychain and Mini License Plate Collectors Club.
Gary Brent Kincade, president of the License Plate Collectors, says that license plate spotters and collectors are not necessarily one and the same.
“We have several people in our club who play license plate spotting games. We even have a guy who likes to take pictures of plates,” he notes. “But collecting is the joy of possession, the ability to look at the plates anytime you want and put them on your walls.”
Kincade specializes in old license plates; he has more than 11,000 in his collection.
License plate spotters may have more in common with birdwatchers or with train spotters in England than license plate collectors. Those groups seek the joy of identification, not possession. Just as birdwatchers feel no need to keep a red-eyed vireo stuffed on their mantel (not to mention that train spotters don’t keep Old 97 in their living rooms), so are license plate spotters content to let their quarry speed on down the road.
