(Photo: Alan Zale for the New York Times)

Summer is underway, and Americans are once again hitting the road, heading for vacation destinations, taking weekend trips to the beach or shuttling their children to and from camp. If you drive anywhere these days — and not just in the summer — you’ve see them, roadside memorials with crosses and flowers to honor the victim of a car accident. And they’re not limited to roads and highways. On city street corners, candles, photos and stuffed animals can be found paying tribute to a victim of violence.

These homemade shrines, however, are not without controversy. Why do people feel a need to build them? Are they a distraction or a warning? Should restrictions be placed on them?

They Are Unconstitutional and a Hazard

Robert Tiernan is a lawyer in Colorado. Nine years ago, he represented a person accused of illegally removing a roadside memorial. His client was acquitted.

There are three reasons why privately placed roadside memorials should not be allowed.

First, they constitute the taking of public property for private purposes.

Second, they invariably include Christian crosses and other religious symbols. This violates the constitutional principle of separation of church and state because public facilities are being used to promote religion.

(Photo: Kevin Moloney for the New York Times)

Third, they are a distraction and, therefore, dangerous to the motoring public. Many of these memorials are on median strips along the highway or are just off the shoulder. They are often elaborate and include symbols that are anchored into the ground. If a motorist happens to lose control of his car and hits one of these displays, it could result in serious injury or death.

Furthermore, the fact that grieving family and friends frequently visit these memorials to leave flowers and to pray presents an additional danger. In the case I handled, the memorial was in the “V” of an interstate off-ramp. When mourners slowed down to pull off and visit the site, it created a serious traffic hazard.

Many states, including Colorado and Wyoming, have programs designed to commemorate victims of traffic accidents that don’t involve religious symbols or displays that are distracting. This is a better alternative than allowing citizens to erect their own shrines.

It’s Futile to Ban Them

Sylvia Grider is a professor emerita of anthropology at Texas A&M University. She has published and spoken widely on the phenomena of roadside memorials and spontaneous shrines.

The custom of placing small decorated crosses or other memorials at the side of the highway to mark fatal car accidents has spread from regions of the United States, like the Hispanic Southwest, where they are known as descansos, or resting places, throughout the country and even worldwide. The custom of marking the place of death with a small cross was brought to Mexico and the southwestern United States by Spanish colonists in the 17th century. Later settlers in the region expanded the custom to include leaving small crosses at the spots wherever a casket was set down on the way to the campo santo, or burial ground. Today many people regard roadside crosses as sacred but not necessarily religious.

Those who feel the need to memorialize their loved ones near the roadways where they died will continue to do so, regardless of legislation and other attempts at control.

Folklorists recognize that these small memorials are vernacular, based in tradition and therefore generally outside of the control or jurisdiction of state or local authorities. But unlike the state of New Mexico, which has made it a misdemeanor to remove or vandalize these homemade shrines, in other parts of the country where the custom is not deep-rooted, many people are offended by them and regard them as an unwanted intrusion into their personal space or a violation of the principle of separation of church and state. Such controversy is frequently an innate component of the performance of traditional customs in public places.

I regard the attempts of various authorities to legislate or regulate this custom as futile and misguided because those who feel the need to memorialize their loved ones near the roadways where they died will continue to do so, regardless of legislation or other attempts at control. In many cases, where authorities have removed roadside shrines, families and loved ones simply replace them. Tradition is a powerful force in society.

No Easy Answers

Melissa Villanueva is the producer and director of “Resting Places,” a documentary about roadside memorials.

I have always been fascinated by roadside memorials and the controversy that surrounds these homemade shrines. Indeed, it is what moved me to make the documentary, “Resting Places,” which is narrated by the actor Liam Neeson.

Several years into the production of this film, I have more questions than answers: Are memorials simply an artistic expression of grief or do they cause a distraction to drivers? How do you find a reasonable compromise between grieving families who erect memorials and the opponents fighting to have them torn down? Should the government attempt to control these shrines or is this a cultural

phenomenon that cannot be regulated?

Take a look at this clip of my film, which contains interviews with the following people (in order of appearance): Robert Tiernan, a lawyer; David Nance, roadside memorial investigator and photographer; and a mother who resurrected a memorial to her son who was killed in a car accident.

Studying the Phenomenon

Arthur Jipson is the director of the Criminal Justice Studies Program at the University of Dayton.

Roadside memorials have become a ubiquitous part of the American landscape and are being placed along roadways with increasing frequency.

In recent years, debate has arisen over the appropriateness of memorials in public space. Some advocates, like Mothers Against Drunk Driving, contend that public displays of grief help society cope with automobile-related death and injury and remind drivers to be mindful of potentially dangerous stretches of highway.

Others, however, point to the division between public and private displays of grief and suggest that roadside memorials are unnecessary reminders of accidental death. For critics, memorials are morbid reminders of loss rather than symbolic of the grieving process. Those who take this position note that these markers may actually distract drivers, making roadways less safe.

States legislatures — and some municipalities — have also weighed in on this issue by passing laws to regulate the placement, size and length of time a memorial can be left. While state legislatures have been sensitive to the needs of those people who erect these memorials, those who are opposed to them are becoming increasingly vocal in their communities.

For more than a decade, I have been conducting research on roadside memorials and public commemoration. My own interest began from the fact that I passed many memorials along the highway as I commuted to work.

In 2000, I launched the Roadside Memorials Project to assess family and community outcomes in the aftermath of an automobile accident, which led to the placement of roadside memorials. To date, I have interviewed more than 300 people involved in the placement, building and maintenance of roadside memorials. The majority of the respondents, 75 percent, have been women, and 60 percent were mothers, sisters or wives of the accident victim.

I welcome a dialogue on these public displays of grief. A thoughtful discussion of roadside memorials may encourage all concerned to reflect on their status and connection to others within their communities.

A Variation on a Theme

Lloyd Wolf is a photographer.

For the last six years, I have been documenting homemade shrines to victims of murder and violence in and around Washington. I am compelled by their heartfelt vibrancy, their sadness and their all-too-common presence on the city’s streets. To me, the shrines — cascades of plush toys, balloons, handwritten prayers and reminiscences, flowers, T-shirts, liquor bottles, photographs, candles — manifest the secret, yet highly visible, wounded heart of a community.

As a nation, we rightly mourn for those who have been killed in service to our country. It is sad though, that we have become numb to the murders in our own communities — on the street, in front of our homes — and the thousands who suffer in the wake of each death. We are so used to it that we rarely notice anymore. But the shrines call to me, to us, to notice, to remember, to be aware — and hopefully, to act.

Regarding the removal of shrines, this is a complex issue. Personally, I believe there should be a neighborhood-by-neighborhood plan, rather than an inflexible centrally mandated policy. Unless the shrine presents a genuine traffic hazard, or a property owner has objections, I believe they should stay as long as the family feels the need to go through their grieving process. This is largely the official and unofficial policy in our nation’s capital.

Most people in the United States are probably more familiar with roadside memorials to traffic accident victims than with the street shrines that I’ve been documenting. I assume that memorials along state and federal highways are subject to a different protocol. But as a strong free speech advocate, to me, the shrines — no matter where they are placed — are forms of creative expression and should be protected under the First Amendment.