Sometimes my fellow Kansas Citians seem more allergic to strong opinion and decisive action than to ragweed.
How could this be? Perhaps, the theory goes, Kansas City was settled by would-be Oregon Trail pioneers who stocked up at trading posts in Independence, Missouri and then at the last moment chickened out.
The flaw in that theory is that the Kansas City of the past was no land of the bland. Far from it. The short version:
Confluence of the Kaw and Missouri rivers. The Kaw tribe. The Osage tribe. Westport Landing. Bleeding Kansas border wars. Slave state that fought on the side of the Union. Mormons. Banks and, of course, the stockyards.
Doll "victim" of the 1951 flood
William Rockhill Nelson, who founded The Kansas City Star and ruled local politics, was quite the titan. According to Tom’s Town author William M. Reddig, “In one legendary encounter, Kansas City Mayor Joseph J. Davenport was thrown down a stairwell at the Star building by editors (including William Allen White) when he was believed to have physically threatened Nelson. Nelson said afterwards: ‘The Star never loses.’”
Ah, those were the days.
Besides the Star, Nelson also gave Kansas City a big honking art museum.
Union Station. Liberty Memorial. A few nice art deco buildings. Gangsters. Speakeasies. 18th & Vine. Jazz. Pla-Mor Ballroom.
But when citizens decided to clean up Tom Pendergast’s “wide open town,” I guess they went overboard. Now it’s Hallmark Cards and suburban sprawl as far as the eye can see.
President Harry Truman. TWA. Floods. A killer tornado.
How ’bout them losin’ Royals? (But I was here in 1985!) And our heartbreaking Chiefs. (Thirty-nine years and counting.)
The 2002 Citistates Report/Kansas City revealed that Kansas Citians spend too much time patting themselves on the back for coming up with an idea, and not enough time following through.
Among the observations of the authors:
Under the patina of politeness, Kansas Citians often shun openness, candor, real conflict. Issue advocacy, which might clear the air, seems strangely muted. People joke about the real meetings taking place in the parking lot after the official one is over.
Yup. But now we have a revitalized — if still struggling — downtown with the Power & Light District and a gallery vortex known as Crossroads. Also lofts, although many are going begging.
And we have good barbecue.
Ask any Kansas Citian what defines his city and he’s more likely to name barbecue than the tourism department’s official City of Fountains.
Fountains are pleasant enough, but they’re not a big topic around here. (I won’t even get into the official slogan of Kansas — Big as you think — which cost $181,500 in marketing fees and was quickly hijacked by locals. Kansas: Bigoted as you think.)
Kansas City barbecue, on the other hand, fascinates city residents as much as it does tourists and author Calvin Trillin. And these days you’re more likely to find the spirit of William Rockhilll Nelson in our hot-tempered barbecue sauce than in our newspaper.
I couldn’t find a definitive (ie non-shill) site on Kansas City barbecue, but I plan to revisit this topic throughout the year as I try various restaurants. Formal reviews sound too much like work to this unpaid blogger, so I think I’ll stick to drifting about and occasionally writing about my experience.
