Well north of the Capital Beltway, 50 miles beyond Baltimore, where the landscape flanking Interstate 95 turns to a dull repetition of trees and the occasional service island, Our Lady of the Highways stands vigil.
Our Lady is a 20-foot statue of Mary, a shrine erected on the side of the road to watch over the tens of thousands of motorists who pass her way each day. She is a guiding force for many, and she has spawned a group of followers, known as Mary's Travelers, who place themselves and others under the protection of the Virgin Mother for safe travel.
She is also a reminder of the peril of travel, having been put there by the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales in 1972, four years after they rushed to the scene of a 17-car pileup that claimed the lives of three drivers and injured several others.
"We thought she would be some way to prevent accidents in the future," the Rev. Richard DeLillio said. "If we have the statue, maybe there would be a little bit of light" to reenergize drivers.
Many of the millions of Americans making pilgrimages by land, air or sea to visit family and friends this holiday season will invoke a higher power to ensure their safe arrival. In an age of global positioning devices, explosives-detection machines, air bags and other man-made safety devices, some travelers still turn to the heavens to ensure their safe passage across the earth.
Many Catholics carry an image of St. Christopher, the traditional protector of travelers. Other Christians put a statue of Jesus on their dashboards, while some bless their cars. Jews and Muslims recite traditional prayers. Other worshipers visit airport chaplains, gather in prayer circles or carry religious articles.
"I think individuals always have some degree of anxiety when they move from one place to another," said Rabbi David Ellenson, president of Hebrew Union College in New York. "The notion that there is a divine force, a presence, that personally watches over one is inherently very comforting."
That's been true for Jonie Lehmann of Montgomery County since she was in an accident about 16 years ago. Lehmann forgot to call her mother before that trip, so her mother wasn't able to put her in what she calls the "white light," a euphemism for a prayer for a family that Lehmann described as "Jewish flaky."
"She didn't want to say, 'Well, it's in God's hands,' because she knew I wouldn't like it if it was too God-dy," said Lehmann, explaining the genesis of the "white light."
Her sole trip without the blessing ended with a totaled car and four people and a cat stranded on the side of the road.
"Ever since then, I always call her and tell her I'm going," Lehmann said. "It's gotten to the point that she calls me when she knows I'm going to be on the road."
For as long as people have had the desire to pack a bag and take a trip, many of them have prayed for their safe arrival.
Bill J. Leonard, dean of the Divinity School at Wake Forest University, said that before Christians began pilgrimages to the Holy Land in the 3rd and 4th centuries, their communities would follow rituals. A priest would say prayers and spread holy water, and villagers would pray for a safe return. Travelers prayed along the way, and monastic communities served as the "Holiday Inns of the time," Leonard said.
Similar rituals were practiced during the time of the Crusades in the 11th century and for merchants throughout the ages, Leonard said. Later, Catholic explorers, including Columbus, had their ships blessed and doused with holy water before leaving port, and once at sea, rituals included having the youngest and purest boy on the ship say a prayer for safe passage.
The role fell to the youngest and purest because "the sailors were so rotten, God wouldn't hear their prayers," Leonard said.
In modern times, Leonard said he has witnessed evangelicals who have performed elaborate ceremonies to bless their children's cars when they went off to college. In the Baptist churches he grew up in, he said, parishioners recited a prayer that bequeathed "traveling mercies for those who are on the highways or in the air."
Ellenson said that many Jewish people who are traveling recite a prayer called the Tefilat HaDerekh.
"It expresses the hope that one will arrive safely at one's destination," Ellenson said, adding that the prayer is commonly posted in Israeli taxicabs. Conservative Jews in Israel wrote a prayer in 1998 for drivers because of the hazards in that country.
Parts of it may sound like sound advice for Washington drivers: "Help me to drive with caution, at a safe distance, with courtesy and to yield the right of way, in alertness, to stop on time."
Nihad Awad, executive director of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, said that Muslims have recited two prayers before journeys short or long since the time of Muhammad. One thanks God for the means to travel, whether it be by donkey, camel or Mini Cooper, and the other asks for God to ease the way, Awad said.
"When you travel, you don't know what you will encounter, what kind of difficulties there will be," Awad said. The prayers show that "you intend to do good in this journey."
David Astorm of Charlottesville intended to do good in his journey 13 years ago when he drove all day and night from Philadelphia to Illinois to surprise his relatives. But somewhere about 4 a.m., a drowsy Astorm found himself speeding toward a tree and possible death.
"All of a sudden, I'm saying, 'Oh my goodness,' and I yanked on the wheel. I don't roll, I don't cause an accident, I don't spin out. I avoid the tree and pull off the side of the road," Astorm said. "I'm going, 'Wow, I could have just killed myself driving into this tree."
The next morning, Astorm recalled that when he bought his pickup truck from the estate of a man who died, it came with a little pin stuck right above the rearview mirror -- an image of St. Christopher. "I really thought, 'Hey, somebody is looking out for me,' " said Astorm, a Catholic.
When Astorm got rid of that truck some years later, he made sure to take the pin with him, and he said that when he dies, he wants it to stay with his car to help guide whoever gets it.
"I didn't buy it," Astorm said. "It sort of found its way to me. I'll hold onto it temporarily until it finds its way to whoever needs it next."
DeLillio said it makes perfect sense for religion to play such a prominent role in everyday travel. Trips are a metaphor for life.
"We always see life as a journey," he said. "It isn't so much the destination as it is each moment that we pass through life. As long as we move and breathe, we all have God's mercy to rely on -- especially when you're on the Jersey Turnpike."