The History Speaks Project: Vision and Voices of Kansas City's Past

History Speaks: Visions and Voices of Kansas City’s Past

Western Historical Manuscript Collection Kansas City Charles N. Kimball Lecture

Carol A. Mickett, PhD

October 22, 2002 The Charles N. Kimball Lecture Series is a tribute to our late friend and civic leader, Dr. Charles N. Kimball, President Emeritus of the Midwest Research Institute, to acknowledge his support of the Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City and his enduring interest in the exchange of ideas. Charlie Kimball was a consummate networker bringing together people and ideas because he knew that ideas move people to action. His credo, “Chance favors a prepared mind,” reflects the belief that the truest form of creativity requires that we look two directions at once—to the past for guidance and inspiration, and to the future with hope and purpose. The study of experiences, both individual and communal—that is to say history—prepares us to understand and articulate the present, and to create our future— to face challenges and to seize opportunities. Sponsored by the Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City, the Series is not intended to be a continuation of Charlie’s popular Midcontinent Perspectives, but does share his primary goal: to encourage reflection and discourse on issues vitally important to our region. The topic of the lectures may vary, but our particular focus is on understanding how historical developments affect and inform our region’s present and future. The Lectures will be presented by persons from the Kansas City region semi- annually in April, near the anniversary of Charlie’s birth, and in October. Additionally, presentations may occur at other times of the year, if opportunities present themselves. WHMC-KC appreciates the substantial financial underwriting and support for this Series provided by the Charles N. Kimball Fund of the Midwest Research Institute and by other friends of Charlie Kimball.

1911-1994

INTRODUCTION to the October 22, 2002 Charles N. Kimball Lecture

David Boutros Associate Director, WHMC-KC

History is the witness that testifies to the passing of time; it illumines reality, vitalizes memory, provides guidance in daily life and brings us tidings of antiquity. Marcus Tullius Cicero (106 AD - 43 AD), Pro Publio Sestio

Good afternoon. I am David Boutros, Associate Director of the Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City, host of the Charles N. Kimball Lecture series. Today’s lecture deviates from our usual fair, but it comes from the same cloth. As you have heard from me before, the purpose of this series is to engage in discussions of today’s issues informed by trends and processes of the past—by history. Our previous speakers have been those involved in their topics—Albert P. Mauro, The Development of Hospital Hill; James M. Kemper, Community Banks and Their Role in Civic Planning; Vicki Noteis, Kansas City’s Planning Legacy; Kala Stroup, Kansas City and Higher Education—to name but four of the thirteen who have stood before you. But today you will hear instead about the gathering of memories in a different form, though for the same purpose. I just returned from a conference where a crusty old South Dakota local historian was the keynote speaker before an audience of archivists. The cowboy pulled a six gun from his briefcase, waved it in the air, and announce to the startled group, “I couldn’t do nothing about getting you in here, but I can dang sure keep you from leaving!” He then launched into a string of tales about cavalry and Indians and carving Presidents’ heads out of a mountain. In the middle of this he brought himself up short and told about how the Lakota tribe would move their villages and one person was selected to transport a bit of fire from the old location to the new. Fire was important to Indian life because it was over it that the cooks prepared meals, it was near it that they lay their beds to be warm and safe, and it was around the fire that they shared their lives in tales, and thoughts, and debates. The Keeper of the Fire was an important role, and here the cowboy said, “you archivists, you historians are the Keepers of our Fire. Thank you.” Today you will hear, and see, a bit of the embers of Kansas City’s fire that we have collected. The idea for this project came from Nancy Beer Tobin, a relatively new Kansas Citian, who thought this an important task to be part of the KC150 celebration. Almost

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 2 three years ago she attended the History subcommittee of KC150 chaired by Jonathan Kemper and offered the idea and her time to make it happen. It was an important idea and I committed the Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City to help make it a reality. We raised an initial $60,000 for phase one, purchased equipment, and started doing interviews. This project, however, was, and is, very demanding logistically, with the scheduling of interviewees, interviewers, and camera operators. At that point, help came from one of our advisors, Carol Mickett, who was experienced and willing to take on refocusing the project. I first met Carol when she was one of the producers/researchers and interviewer for Uniquely Kansas City: a History of the Arts, funded by Jeannette Nichols and the Nichols family, and produced for KCPT. I was impressed with Carol’s grasp of the topic—which was not surprising because of her involvement with the arts community, particularly through her show on the arts on the community radio station, KKFI. But more than that, I was impressed with her interview technique and style. Collecting oral history is not as easy as sticking a microphone in someone’s face, or pointing a camcorder at them. Oral history is a dialogue—albeit a one-sided dialogue—in which the interviewer guides the interviewee into the past. Carol is a very good interviewer who asks historically useful questions and keeps the conversation on track. Moreover, for the benefit of our project, she is organized and methodical, and a hard worker who enjoys doing interviews. I want to thank again Nancy Beer Tobin, and also the other members of the History Speaks advisory committee: Richard L. Berkley – Former Mayor, Kansas City, MO Gene T. Chávez, EdD. – President, Chávez and Associates Mary Cohen, PhD – U.S. Department of Education John Dillingham – President & Director, Dillingham Enterprises Jonathan Kemper – CEO, Commerce Bank Cydney E. Millstein – Principal, Architectural and Historical Research Mike Murphy – Producer, KCPT Bruce Pennington – Principal, ©mega Communications Genevieve Robinson, O.S.D., PhD – Rockhurst University Rowena Stewart, PhD – Executive Director, 18th and Vine Authority

I would also like to thank the foundations who have supported this project: the Hall Family Foundation, the William T. Kemper Foundation, the Francis Families Foundation, the Sosland Foundation, and the Mason L. Dean Foundation (Bank of America). As an aside, I should add here that we are seeking additional funds to undertake phase two and would welcome any contributions or advise you might have. Others besides Nancy and Carol have contributed their time and talents to History Speaks: as interviewers, Gene Chavez, Donna Davis, Dory DeAnglo, Janice Lee, and Brent Schondelmeyer. And as videographers, Angela C. Colina, Greg German, Brian Harty, Zico Orozco, and Nancy Piraquive.

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 3 Lastly, I would like to thank all those who agreed to be interviewed and share their memories and experiences not just with us, but with the community, present and future. To date there are 117—too many for me to name. There is a handout on the table that lists them or you can find it though our website, www.umkc.edu/WHMCKC/. Again, thank you for attending today’s presentation, History Speaks: Visions and Voices of Kansas City’s Past. Carol . . . .

Carol Mickett in the KKFI studio, 1998.

The History Speaks Project: Vision and Voices of Kansas City’s Past1

Carol A. Mickett, Ph.D. Director, The History Speaks Project

October 22, 2002

Over the last year, I have had the privilege of interviewing almost one hundred Kansas Citians: friends, acquaintances, people of whom I had only heard, and people of whom I had never heard until their name got on my list.2 I started interviewing in February of this year, 2002, with the intention of doing approximately 35 interviews in order to get the History Speaks project back on its feet. I was to give one month of my life, and then I was out. Well, ha! During that month, I interviewed James Kemper, Alvin Brooks, Robert Farnsworth, Ruth Margolin, Leonard Pryor, Far Ling and Richard Ng, Al Mauro, John Ulhman, Patricia Ulhman Rich, Dick Belger, Charlie Wheeler, Angelo Diaz, Wilbur Niewald, Myra Morgan, Gertrude Keith, Bill Hickok, Sandy Schermerhorn, James Nutter—just to name a few. I was hooked. Of course, it was fascinating. Of course, it was fun to meet all these people and to be with some old friends. But that’s not what kept me at it. What I got was to experience the “soul” of Kansas City. Now you may think that I’ve just made an extreme claim, but I haven’t. What happens when you listen to a person for at least two hours and ask that person questions about what he or she has just said or what you’ve always wanted to know about that person is that the person opens up and reveals his or her story. The person gets to relive their lives. I’ve seen it over and over again in my interview process. There is a moment when the person I am interviewing just lets go and joins me in a journey to explore their lives, their thoughts, their concerns, and their visions.

1. The History Speaks project is sponsored by the State Historical Society of Missouri through the Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City. The project has received funding from the William T. Kemper Foundation, Hall Family Foundation, Francis Families Foundation, Sosland Foundation, and Mason L. Dean Foundation. David Boutros is Executive Director and Carol Mickett is Director. The History Speaks advisory board is made up of the following people: Richard L. Berkley, Gene Chávez, Mary Cohen, John Dillingham, Jonathan Kemper, Cydney Millstein, Mike Murphy, Bruce Pennington, Genevieve Robinson, and Rowena Stewart. 2. These interviews were conducted with the assistance of Greg German, Brian Harty, and Zico Orozco. An additional twenty-six interviews were conducted for the History Speaks project by Gene Chavez, Donna Davis, Dory DeAngelo, Greg German, and Nancy Beer Tobin. © WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 5 Imagine being able to do this with one hundred people. This is why I can say I’ve gotten a glimpse of the “soul” of Kansas City. History has a long tradition of being recorded and reported by an educated elite— typically in the academy by white men. In recent years, we have seen a change in this tradition: a move away from history solely being the place of battles, conquerors, and government leaders to include a broader scope of human life. In the last decade, for example, we’ve seen the proliferation and popularity of the literary memoir. Projects such as History Speaks present history from the voice of the people. It is Rashomon on a large scale. Now I in no way want to disparage the trained historian and the work she and he does: this is invaluable. But the oral histories—the stories by the people—create a whole different take on what is important in life and in the history of a community: the sitting with a grandmother in a sunroom, the color of a streetcar, the smell of the city market, pieces of spearmint gum brought out on a silver tray. The oral history allows a re-telling and hence a re-creating of stories. Whether what is said is true or false often does not matter. What we get is history from a particular person’s experience, with all their embellishments and often obvious withholdings. The key is that no one person’s story, no one person’s telling, is the whole story. The whole story (and, of course, we never really get the whole story) is akin to a deck of card thrown onto a table where they lie together and yet apart: some overlapping, some touching, and some just off on their own. Each card has a specific role and a specific value which always can change from game to game. But in all of this, each card is always part of a deck. Each History Speaks story is part of the story of Kansas City. The recorded interviews are an obvious outcome of the History Speaks project, but there is another not so obvious outcome. Kansas City attorney Sid Willens exclaimed at the end of our interview3 that it was the best therapy session he ever had. At the end of the interview, he was geared up to conquer the world. He had the freedom to talk about himself and, in the process, discover who he had been, who he is now, and who he can be. During my History Speaks interviews, I witnessed the “Sid Willens” phenomenon again and again. The women’s activist Ruth Margolin, after her interview, also just came to life. She is not unlike many of the people I interviewed—people who have had full careers, full lives, and are now what some call “retired.” Without the daily structure and demands of a job or office, people are at sea or retired—as in “going to sleep.” It is easy to forget who we are if we are not listening to ourselves and having others listen to us. When we’re in the hustle and bustle of it all, we don’t have to listen or even form our stories—we just are swept along. It’s when we stop, when we are “forced” to retire that we discover that we don’t really know who-we-have-been or who-we-are, so there can be no who-we-shall-be. There was a look of exhilaration and astonishment on Ruth Margolin’s face at the end of our interview, as if she were saying: I did all that. I’m pretty damn good. She was fired up in a way I hadn’t seen her since she “retired.” This interview woke her up and got her feet out of that bed. She was up and running. Good for her, and better yet for us. It was not Sid’s or Ruth’s talking alone that created this enlivenment. It was their talking interlaced with listening. We can talk all we want, but without uptake, without acknowledgement of worth, talk yields nothing. We’ve all experienced both sides: we all know the excitement of talking and having our talk responded to, elaborated on, and

3. Those readers that know Sid will not be surprised to learn that his interview took a whole day. © WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 6 admired. We all, on the other hand, to varying degrees, have spoken and had no one in the room listen to us. We all know that feeling of words dropping into emptiness and the silence or rage that follows. That’s one way people or groups of people get disenfranchised: no one listens. What they say is disregarded, and, after a while, those people just don’t talk anymore. As a community, we can’t allow that to happen. What I’ve discovered through interviewing people over the last eight years, and before that teaching at university, is that if you really listen, i.e., take seriously what another person says (which does not mean agreeing with that person), it becomes surprising how smart other people are; how much they’ve thought about things; and how much they’ve done. This may sound odd, but in every interview there is a moment when I just fall in love with the person to whom I am speaking. They just knock me out. It’s the process of witnessing someone re-create themselves in front of you. In this regard, I was curious about the value of the History Speaks videotaped interviews. Whether I would have, and hence would other people have, the same response from just watching the interviews that I had in conducting them. I can honestly report that I was just as intrigued while re-watching the tapes as I was during the interviews—and perhaps even more since I could relax into the stories rather than so actively have to listen in order to ask questions. Let me turn now to the substance of the interviews. First, I should say how I invited people to be part of the History Speaks project—and by this I mean the project so far, since it is not over. Names initially came from the History Speaks advisory board and on an on- going basis from David Boutros, the project’s executive director. I would continuously ask people for names. I would ask friends, people I went out to dinner with, and always the people I was interviewing. I just kept gathering names and adding them to my list. I attempted to get as diverse a group of Kansas Citians as possible making sure that if certain names came up more than once they would get priority. I also have to say that I invited some people because I just wanted to interview them either because I knew who they were or I had heard a story about them that intrigued me. I wish you could just watch all 300-or-so hours of taped interviews. But, of course, that’s not practically possible. So, I’ve selected excerpts from just four people I interviewed. Why I chose these excerpts and these people, I don’t know. I could have chosen any four people at random from the pool of interviews and been happy. But these four excerpts show a varied sample of what you can find on the tapes. Often when we think about history, we think about important people and their accomplishments. In the history of twentieth century Kansas City, J. C. Nichols is one of these people. The excerpt below is from the interview that I conducted with J. C.’s (or should I say “Nick’s” as I found out he was called—”Nicky” by his wife Jessie) grandchildren, Kay Callison and Jay Nichols. Kay is Miller Nichols’s daughter, and Jay is Clyde Nichols’s son. Some of what they say, you may know already. It may be written in a book on J. C. Nichols. What is important is the re-telling of it: the creation and the sustaining of a mythology which is Kansas City. This excerpt starts out with Jay speaking about his grandmother, Jessie.

Kay Callison and Jay Nichols, interviewed February 11 & 13, 2002, by Carol Mickett. Still frame from History Speaks videotape.

Jay Nichols: She was très formidable. The thing I remember about her is that she ran the female side of Kansas City and he ran the male side of Kansas City. Granny went to Vassar from Olathe, Kansas, in 1903. That was pretty unique. She was the banker’s daughter in Olathe. She was a Miller. And her dad owned the bank and the phone company. On Sunday, they would hitch up four white horses to the carriage and ride to church. She was the princess of Olathe. Kay Callison: I’ve heard this story, I don’t know how many times. J. C. would light a cigarette. He was a kinda impatient, compulsive chain smoker, if there is such a thing. And often times the ashes would get on his coat sleeve and he would just continue on. It was of no concern to him. The cigarette was probably feeding his nervousness or trying to calm his nervousness. And, of course, Jessie would notice this immediately. So every suit, I am told, that he bought, she would go out and buy a duplicate suit from Jack Henry’s that he never knew about. And she had a separate closet, I think on the second floor someplace, where she would put these duplicate suits. So when part of a suit became damaged or soiled or have some threads that were worn through—burned—he would hang them up in the closet and she would exchange suits and take the first suit to the cleaners or to be repair. And he never knew it apparently all those years. Jay Nichols: He would never countenance having two suits that were the same. Granddaddy would come home from work. And he had a special couch made because he was six feet. He had a special couch made that was long enough for him to lie down on. So he’d come in and take his shoes off and lie down on the couch. Now there could be a bunch of people there. He would lie down on the couch and shut his eyes. The conversation would be going on and Granny would say something that he disagreed with. He would appear to be asleep. She’d say something and he’d say (snoring noises) “Oh no dear, that’s not how it was.” Correct her and appear to go back to sleep. The really far out thing about Granddaddy was that he made his success—he lived through two world wars and a depression. For example, during World

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 8 War I, he went out and sold Victory Bonds. The people in charge of the Victory Bonds got these reports back that in Kansas City they were selling five times more Victory Bonds than anywhere else in the country. They came to see why, and it was J. C. He was selling Victory Bonds lickety-split. So they put him on a tour, and he went around and told all the other major cities how to sell Victory Bonds. During World War II, he was a dollar-a-year man. He went to Washington, and he got, for Kansas City and Wichita, seven aircraft factories. He went to Washington. They were building aircraft factories on the West Coast and the East Coast. He said, “this is nuts.” Because if we ever get attacked on either coast, the aircraft factories [would be destroyed]. Kay Callison: He had a vision bigger than most people. He could see how these things would impact the whole community. He somehow was able to leapfrog. He was very instrumental in getting Midwest Research Institute where it is now. Most people of Kansas City have never even heard of this entity, but for a certain sector of the United States, it puts Kansas City on the map. It’s an incredible influence. Somehow he was able to see and then to do it and convince people. He was the ultimate salesman. He made people feel important in what they were doing and that it was necessary, but it was more necessary for the whole community. He made people feel like almost that it was their idea. It’s interesting that when I set up the interview with Kay Callison, she told me she didn’t want to do the interview alone, and it was she who suggested I invite Jay to accompany her. She also was rather adamant that she would only talk with me for about twenty minutes. The interview with Kay Callison and Jay Nichols lasted 5 hours: the longest I conducted. These interviews, of course, are as much about them as about the people and events they talk about. These are the stories and memories that shape them as members of the Nichols family and as Kansas City citizens. They, and their siblings, are the resource of a Kansas City legacy. With the Nichols cousins we have two people re-telling stories about their grandparents—about someone other then themselves. In the next excerpt, Jay Dillingham, former president of the Kansas City Stockyards, talks about his own experiences and his own doings. This is another form of history or myth-making that occurs on the tapes. Mr. Dillingham talks about his role in the formation of Kansas City’s airport and Interstate 435.

Jay Dillingham, interviewed June 18, 2002, by Carol Mickett. Still frame from History Speaks videotape.

Jay Dillingham: The city wanted to build it near Liberty in Clay County, but the citizens didn’t want it. And they filed a lot of lawsuits and just stopped it. There was a stand still. It was a dead issue. I just accidentally picked up the phone and called Perry Cookingham, the city manager, who I knew real well, and I said “Perry, why don’t you move your airport to Platte County.” He said, “Will they let us in?” I said, “If you get a call this afternoon from Holt Coffey, the presiding commissioner of Platte County, and asks you to come over, will you go over this afternoon. He said, “I sure will.” Well, Holt Coffey was a good friend, and I called him and told him the possibility and he ought to call the city manager and talk about the airport. They got together that afternoon. Of course, Platte County invited to bring them in. Well, the city appointed Ray Jones of J. C. Nichols, a city man, to buy 3,500 acres of land to put the airport on. The natives over there just wouldn’t accept him because he was a city man. So I called Perry up again, and said, “you’re in trouble as usual.” I said, “All you have to do now is call up Clay Woods, who happens to be my wife’s uncle. He lived in the county always, knew everybody. He was in the real estate business. He knew what he was doing.” I said, “Ask him to help Ray buy the land.” They bought the 3,500 acres of land without condemning a single piece. [John Dillingham (off camera): For three hundred and fifty dollars an acre plus improvements. The City got a real bargain.] Now that’s the history of your airport. Carol Mickett: Now, one thing that keeps coming up in your stories is that you want something done or someone wants something done, you get on the phone and you call your friend. Then you call a bunch of your relatives and all this stuff happens. Now, is that how it really happens? How it works? Jay Dillingham: Well, I guess you could say that’s right. Carol Mickett: How did you get all these friends? Jay Dillingham: I didn’t do anything.

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 10 I’ll give you one example of how things work. When they moved the airport, I happened to know that most of the people employed there or going there to travel were from Wyandotte and Johnson County, Kansas. That meant a lot of travel through downtown Kansas City and congested areas. They needed better highways. So I knew John Montgomery the director of the highway department in Kansas very well. So I picked up the phone and called John and I said “John, I’ve heard they’re going to allocate more mileage for the interstate highway system. He said, “I haven’t heard that. How did you find that out?” I said, “you get your antenna up and find out if its right.” Ten minutes he called me back and said, “you’re right. What do you want to do?” I said, “I want to get a highway from Olathe, Kansas, to KCI, our airport, and all around Kansas City.” Which is now 435. He said, “that sounds good to me. I’ll get the governor. Will you go to Washington with us?” “Yes, I’ll go to Washington with you.” We went back there and made our case before the head of the federal highway administration. The last day, when they were ready to allocate the money and the mileage for the highway, Missouri hadn’t done one thing to tell the government that they wanted the highway. So John Kemp, who was the federal highway administrator in Kansas City, was a good friend, was in Minneapolis at the time. They called him and told him they couldn’t give him the mileage unless Missouri said they wanted it. So John picked up the phone and called Warren Hearnes, the governor of Missouri. Told the governor the story and said, “Governor, do you want that highway?” And the governor said, “Yes.” “Well, then, you call Washington right now and tell them Missouri wants the highway.” Today it’s 435. I don’t know what you would have done without it. Carol Mickett: Why did you do all this? Why don’t you just have a regular job? You’re making all this stuff happen. Jay Dillingham: No. It’s very simple. I’m a citizen. I owe it to my community to make it better for the next generation. Whether I’m conceited or not, I won’t be here to judge it. It’s very simple why I did everything I could do and should do it. There are two comments I’d like to make. First, the word “awesome,” which is perhaps the most overused word in our culture, is, nevertheless, appropriate when describing Mr. Dillingham’s 90-and-some year old memory. He never once stopped to try to remember a name. The name and often its spelling and a date were immediately there. I am inclined to say we should patent his diet, but I’m afraid it would be full of steak from the Golden Ox, which we would be required to eat North-of-the-River. Mr. Dillingham’s excerpt provides evidence, as do the Nichols tapes, of the power of the individual. Some say that now such individual power can’t happen because there are too many committees to check that no one person runs the show. The history of Kansas City, however, is earmarked with individuals driven by vision and commitment. The latter, commitment, which Mr. Dillingham strongly expresses at the end of the excerpt, was a recurring theme in many of the interviews. There is a sweeping sense of community responsibility among the established elders of Kansas City.4 It was repeated over and over

4. I can not speak for the younger segment of Kansas City because I did not interview them. © WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 11 to me especially by whom I would call Kansas City’s “people of money.” They indeed feel a strong sense of responsibility to give back to Kansas City—this is just part of who they are and who they were trained to be. There is, however, a double-edged sword that accompanies the carrying out of this responsibility that came up in the interviews. Generosity is often not without expectations and strings. You can have my gift, my money, but I have to have a say in what gets done. Sometimes this can be benign, but, at other times, it curtails the freedom of others, and it puts many important decisions in the hands of a few. In addition to telling stories about people who have contributed to Kansas City, many who I interviewed talked about the same issues: present day versus the “old” downtown, the city versus the suburbs, Kansas City, MO versus Kansas City, KS, the arts, politics, to name a few, but no issue brought out such pointed feelings as did the issue of the Kansas City schools. And here I must be careful in using the expression “Kansas City schools.” One of the “expressed pointed feelings” instructed me that there is more than one Kansas City school district. Indeed, there are five school districts in Kansas City.5 Lumping all the schools together, I have been told, does not accurately represent the quality of Kansas City schools nor fare well for the promotion of Kansas City throughout the nation. This is a point well taken. There are, for example, Kansas City schools within these five districts that are flourishing and have received state and national awards of excellence in the recent past. During the interviews I conducted in February 2002, I frequently asked the person I was interviewing if he or she would run for school board. The response was a unanimous “NO” said extremely quickly and often accompanied by a hardy laugh meaning something like “are you nuts.”6 What I gleaned from the interviews about the Kansas City school district is that people see no way to help, no way to do anything positive, no way to go in and make things happen. The “doers and shakers” of our community are used to going in and taking over or at least of having their words heard and often turned into action. But with the public schools it is difficult to just go in and clean it up—there is too much red tape; too many rules and regulations; too much of the city, the state, and the courts to go around or through. Some have turned their attention and money to private schools or charter schools at which they can have a much closer hand at control or implementing policy. Some of these endeavors will work, and some, no doubt, won’t. But they nevertheless create a challenge to the public school system which must find a vehicle to involve the community in a way that provides positive rewards for this involvement. One, for example, that would have the people I have interviewed be willing to become associated with the schools. The Kansas City schools need to create a public relations arm that routinely broadcasts the accomplishments of its schools and not just its failures. It needs to broadcast the positive results of any community involvement so that the wider community sees that there is a way to get involved that is not fruitless.

5. The school districts in Kansas City, Missouri, are Center, Kansas City, North Kansas City, Park Hill, and Hickman Mills. 6. There was one clear affirmative response to the question “will you run for school board?” It was from Al Mauro. © WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 12 This is not an easy issue. And simply put: it’s the issue of race. The problem lies deep in the history of Kansas City long before the Civil War. The History Speaks interviews do not go back that far, but we have other avenues into that history. One is being developed by historian Patsy Moss, who has been using the portraits of George Caleb Bingham, the 19th century Missouri painter, as a portal into the history of Kansas City. What she has discovered is a rich, forgotten history of Southern culture and Southern economy that forms a foundation of Greater Kansas City. A history, Moss argues, that was re-written after the Civil War by the victorious Unionist and pragmatic Confederates to whitewash the long history of slave ownership in Greater Kansas City. I, for example, inquired during Mr. Dillingham’s interview why he was mentioning so many Democrats throughout the history of Clay and Platte Counties. No more was said than “Lincoln was a Republican.” I asked both Joanne Collins and Rose Kemp why they were Republicans—so unlike the other leading African Americans in Kansas City. No more was said than “Lincoln was a Republican.” This is the power of history. The next excerpt is about the de-segregation of the Kansas City School District. The excerpt comes from the interview I conducted with Lloyd Daniel, former Missouri State Legislator who is currently with the Missouri Department of Economic Development. He speaks about the early days of bussing in Kansas City.

Lloyd Daniel, interviewed February 15, 2002, by Carol Mickett. Still frame from History Speaks videotape.

Carol Mickett: So where did you go to school? Lloyd Daniel: In what sense do you mean? Carol Mickett: I mean like elementary school . . . Lloyd Daniel: I went to Ladd and Meservey and Pinkerton. I went to segregated schools up until the fifth grade. I went to black schools up until the fifth grade and then I was bussed to white schools. Carol Mickett: You were bussed to white schools?

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 13 Lloyd Daniel: I was part of that first batch of folks who were bussed to white schools. The first bussing we would go to one classroom. We had separate lunch period, separate recess. We were in the building, but we weren’t associated with the students in the building Carol Mickett: So you had separate classrooms? So, you were bussed to . . . Lloyd Daniel: Taken from a black school put in a white school but we still remain separate. Carol Mickett: Was your teacher black or white when you were bussed? Lloyd Daniel: Generally white. They were always black in the segregated school and better teachers who understood us better, cared more about us, and we made much more progress. The absence of black teachers retarded all of our development. Carol Mickett: And when you were first bussed, were you afraid? I mean, what were the emotions? Lloyd Daniel: I wasn’t afraid, but I was prepared to defend myself as we had to. At Pinkerton and Southeast there were gang fights every other day. Every spring with hundreds of people fighting. So we carried weapons, then knives. We carried the weapons that were readily available as do people now. But then the weapons that were readily available were knives. So we would fight everyday sometimes in school usually after school. Folks would line up on both sides of the football field and just clash like the Titans. Because they didn’t want us out there. Sometime their older brothers and sometimes fathers would chase us home. And we’d have to fight their relatives. You didn’t want to get caught out there after the last bus, last city bus. This was in ‘65. Carol Mickett: And you willingly would fight? Lloyd Daniel: Willingly? Carol Mickett: I mean given that both of you lined up? Lloyd Daniel: Well, if the people are going to chase you. Personally, my father being a teamster and all the things that were happening nationwide, if the people were going to chase you. They only have to chase us a few times if you were late or had an eighth hour or whatever. But rather than have somebody chase you, it was like, you come out of school and say, “Are you going to fight us? Well here we are. Now can we get to the bus or are you going to fight us?” “You know we’re going to fight you.” “Okay, good, we’ll beat your ass down.” So you win enough to get on the bus. Try to fight and catch the bus. Once you’re on the bus, the bus driver would make people stop chasing you. But usually we had to fight folks our age or a little older. They had white gangs, and we had blacks gangs. The white gangs were in high school and would chase middle school students. It was just ridiculous.

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 14 Carol Mickett: Why did the school administration allow that to happen? Lloyd Daniel: They didn’t want us there either. Carol Mickett: And they knew it was going on? Lloyd Daniel: Yeah. They were there. They were watching. By seventh hour, the last hour, people would be wrapping rags around their hands getting ready. It was like, we’re going to bang because they don’t want us here, but we’re not going to let them run us. We’re going to be here because this is where we are, and wherever we are, we’re going to defend ourselves. And we did. Carol Mickett: So you weren’t afraid to fight. You were someone who... Lloyd Daniel: Any time you’re fighting people, particularly if you’re outnumbered or they’re older, then there’s a certain fear. To say I wasn’t afraid, it’s not true. But I wasn’t so afraid that we were going to be intimidated. Carol Mickett: Did you ever get hurt? Lloyd Daniel: Sure. And I hurt some other people too. And I can remember people saying, my father and uncle, that if they jump on you, just make sure that you’re not the only one to get hurt. That’s how we rode. That if five people jump on you, somebody was hurt. One of them maybe would have to go to the hospital. Someone was going to get hurt. Carol Mickett: Did you ever have to go to the hospital? Lloyd Daniel: I probably should have on occasion. But I didn’t. My mother was not like my father. She couldn’t stand to see blood. She would fall out and stuff like that. So I would hide any injuries. She says, “what happened to your lip?” I say, “you know how I “ and she fell on the kitchen floor. So I learned not to share everything with her. I could share it with daddy but not with mommy. Carol Mickett: So where would you get knives from? Lloyd Daniel: Anywhere. Kitchen knife. Butcher knife. Older guys would have switchblades and stuff like that. Brass knuckles. Anything. If you’re just walking home with your gym bag, home from school, often if you don’t have what you need with you, you’ll just be in terror, terrorized, chased. If you can get to a business, get inside, and maybe get in there and call someone to come pick you up or whatever. But, generally, if you were attacked, you need to be ready then. So I used to carry a knife most days at Southeast Junior. It was only after I got to Paseo, and those fights at Paseo had led to Paseo going from a school that was 70 per cent white one year to 70 per cent black the next year that we were not attacked anymore. And going to Paseo was the first time after about three years I didn’t have to fight as part of going to school. I’d have to think, “Okay, I have English today, I have homeroom, I’ve got a fight.” You know, it was part of going to school.

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 15 I chose this excerpt because it is about the issue of KC schools. It tells us where we have been and informs us about where we are and may influence where we shall be. As I listened to Lloyd, who I have known over the years and have interviewed before, I found out things I just didn’t know or wouldn’t have conjectured about his life and about the Kansas City bussing experience. I admit it: I’m a white girl from Jersey. These are not my experiences, and, here’s the kicker, I assumed they were not Lloyd’s. Talk about ignorance. I know I’m not alone in this because my interviews with white citizens of Kansas City reveal their ignorance of the types of experiences of which Lloyd speaks and of which the other African Americans I interviewed spoke. There is a lesson here. We don’t talk and listen to one another. That’s why these tapes are invaluable: they provide us with the stories of our neighbors that we cannot, if only for practical reasons, gather on our own during our every day lives. But we can try to listen and tell as much as we can. The benefit would be great. I am a firm believer that friendships are formed and strengthened through sharing our stories with one another—through listening and telling. I am also a firm believer that friendships are the key to political and community change. The bond of friendship brings trust and is a bond not easily broken. An example of what stories have done to help integrate the citizenry of Kansas City is illustrated by the work that Laura Hockaday accomplished for the Kansas City Star when she was “society” editor. During my interview with Star editor Frank Spurlock, he told me that Laura Hockaday did more than anyone at the Star to bring Blacks into the mainstream by her feature stories in FYI and her inclusion of Blacks and Hispanics on the “society” page in the Sunday paper. Spurlock, who was also active in bringing coverage of the Black community to the Star, said that when Ms. Hockaday was asked to be society editor she responded something to the effect that she didn’t want to be “society” editor, but she wanted to be “people” editor. She would cover all the people not just the high society types. During my interview with Laura Hockaday, she described herself as living in a cocoon unaware of Kansas City segregation while Mamie Hughes was downtown trying to get a counter seat at Kresge’s so she could eat a hot dog. Ms. Hockaday told me that her real education started when she was writing for the Star, when she was listening and telling the stories of the people of Kansas City. The final excerpt I’m going to consider is from my interview with Laura Hockaday. It has nothing to do directly with issues of race, but it does have to do with the importance of stories and the broad scope of what matters in people lives. I should tell you before you read this excerpt that I did not know Ms. Hockaday or anything of substance about her before her interview. I assumed she would be, how should I say, “hoity-toity.” What I knew was that she was the “society” editor of the Kansas City Star. After her interview, after I listened to her stories, I sought her out through a mutual friend so I could get to know her. I am happy to say, we now have the beginnings of a friendship. When you read this excerpt, you’ll know why.

Laura Hockaday, interviewed May 31, 2002, by Carol Mickett. Still frame from History Speaks videotape.

Laura Hockaday: We had a lot of fun. One of the recipes that became famous was a recipe for bourbon balls. It’s about the only thing I’m really known for at the Kansas City Star is bourbon balls. I’m not known for my writing particularly but for bourbon balls, yes. Carol Mickett: Because you eventually would cook them? Laura Hockaday: Well, I tried them because they didn’t cook. They just sat and soaked. Which I thought was great. You didn’t have to bake them at all. You just rolled them up and they soaked—in bourbon. A woman was making them to package and send to her son in Vietnam. So this was quite a while ago. I decided to try them at home for my buddies at the Star. I was still living at home. We had no Quisinart. I still don’t. It was not even invented. You had to get Vanilla Wafers very fine. And then mix them with chopped nuts and then you would mix those with a chocolate liquid mixture with sugar and bourbon and melted chocolate bits. So I was rolling these Vanilla Wafers out at home on the kitchen table with a rolling pin. My father came in and said “Why that will take you forever to make them for all your friends down there.” I made hundreds of them. He said, “I know of a much better way for you to get this done quickly. He said, “Just put boxes of Vanilla Wafers under the tires of your car and then roll over them.” And I said “Why dad you’re nuts.” He didn’t cook either. But I got to thinking about it. I thought, “Well, if this was going to save me a lot of time, I’m going to try this.” I could get three boxes under each tire. I put them in the brown grocery sacks and then I put those sacks in trash bags. Someone sort of guided me as I drove the car over them in the driveway. We could crush twelve boxes at once. I made them in the winter because in those days you couldn’t bring booze into the Star. In the very early days, yes, but now, no. So this was a way you could disguise the bourbon. We got all those crushed. It was just marvelous. So, Marjean, who had become my editor, she said, “I want you to do another story about this recipe and include the car.” So we changed the recipe. Whenever we didn’t know how much to put down we just said, “to

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 17 taste,” like “pepper to taste,” “salt to taste.” So we just changed the bourbon ball recipe to “one car to taste.” I used a lot more bourbon. This original lady had one cup of bourbon. No, I think she had a fourth of a cup to half a cup. My father also suggested—he saw the bourbon bottle sitting there by the mixing bowl and just dumped it upside down inside of the bowl. The bourbon balls were wonderful. So I called this woman up to tell her that her Vietnam bourbon balls were a great success, but I had a confession to make that I used a lot more bourbon than she did. And she said, “Well, I have a confession too. I use a lot more bourbon than the recipe calls for too.” I asked Frank Spurlock during his interview if he ever had one of Laura Hockaday’s bourbon balls. He responded, “Are you kidding. Everyone at the Star ate them. They were devoured. If you ate too many, it was like one too many at the tavern. They were strong, but awfully good.” The History Speaks project has many stories to tell, but the Project can be of no benefit, it will not be complete, unless these tapes are listened to: listened to by you, by teachers, by students, by community leaders, by politicians, by all the citizenry of Kansas City. What you will find, I conjecture, are friends and people whom you will want to be your friends. And you will find that Kansas City is strong and awfully good.7

7. The tapes are available to the public. They are archived at Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City which is housed on the University of Missouri- Kansas City campus. To set up an appointment to view the tapes or to get information about how to support the project, call David Boutros at (816) 235-1543.

Questions and Answers

Question: How could a person see the interviews? Mickett: The interview tapes are archived at Western Historical Manuscript Collection which is on the UMKC campus. You can go there and watch them: all 300 hours if you would like. Under certain conditions, you may purchase copies of the tapes and you can arrange to show them at schools, meetings, community gatherings, or whatever. You may also edit them for television or as part of a larger video project. The tapes are available on VHS and digital tape. David Boutros is the person to contact at WHMC-KC. Question: Did you invite anyone to be interviewed who declined? Mickett: I believe the only person who declined was Jonathan Kemper, who thought, I think, that he wasn’t old enough to be included. But he was the only one. He is on the project’s advisory committee and has provided significant financial support. Perhaps he felt there might be a conflict of interest. I did interview his father, James Kemper, who provided me with some insight about myself. I had assumed that since Mr. Kemper was a rich banker, I would not like him. His politics and values would be different from mine. I ended up apologizing to him at the end on our interview for having such presuppositions. His interview is terrific, and he is a thoughtful and intelligent man. And he does have some views different from mine. This is one of the great things about the History Speaks project. The interviews, over and over again, show you people as they are and not as we have constructed them in our fantasies. An important lesson to learn, and a helpful aid to community building and friendship. Question: How did you choose the people to be interviewed? Mickett: The initial list of people was generated by the History Speaks advisory committee, David Boutros, and myself. Once I started the interview process, I would ask the people I interviewed for recommendations. I would ask my friends or other people with whom I came into contact. After a while, people would contact me or David Boutros to suggest people to include in the project. I chose your aunt, Nedinne Parker, for example, because we lived in the same apartment building, the Parklane, where she had lived for 22 years, and I knew that she was 100 years old. We chose other people because of their reputation and their contribution to Kansas City. We also focused on getting as diverse a group of people as was possible. So, we might pass over some very interesting people because we had too many interviews with people who were similarly situated. Mostly, I would listen. If I kept hearing from people, “you’ve got to interview so-and-so,” I would set up an interview appointment. There really is no “wrong” person to include in this

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 19 project. The longer this project continues, which means the longer this project is funded, the greater will be the number of people included and the more complete will be the story of Kansas City. Question: Is this a project that’s going to continue? Mickett: Yes, it’s going to continue. The goal, at this point, is 150 interviews. We have approximately 30 more interviews to complete to reach this initial goal. The History Speaks project, of course, will continue after the first 150 interviews are completed. When Western Historical Manuscript Collection moves into its new and larger facility (2004 or 2005), it will have a permanent audio-video production studio. Interviews will be on going when the new facility is in place. It is to be noted that WHMC-KC already contains many audio and video interviews of the history of Kansas City, which are available upon request. Please, if you know of anyone who you believe should be included in the History Speaks project, please let me know or let David Boutros know at WHMC-KC. Question: It seems all the interviews were with people who have lived here and spent their lives doing something in Kansas City. Do you have any interviews of people who possibly spent an important part of their lives in Kansas City, but they left Kansas City, which gave them the opportunity to view Kansas City from outside? Mickett: Yes, there were a few people who didn’t grow up here, but have been big contributors to the Kansas City community. One good example is Mayor Cleaver. He grew up in Texas, then came here and married. He’s here because of Dianne, who grew up here. Mayor Cleaver talks in his interview about being an outsider: what it is to be an outsider and how that perspective works. I also conducted an interview with Dianne Cleaver. I recommend viewing both of these interviews. There are a few people, Steven Glorioso, for example, who grew up in Kansas City, worked here, and have now moved away. Glorioso lives in New Orleans, but comes back regularly to do work. His is a really fascinating interview because he has strong views. He’s articulate about why Kansas City politically developed the way it has. Since Glorioso doesn’t live here anymore, he has a special relationship to Kansas City and a unique perspective. There are a few other interviews of people who weren’t born in Kansas City, (e.g., Samella Gates and David Ross) or who don’t live here fulltime anymore (e.g., Ann Reinsner Jacobson), but most of the interviews are with people who grew up in Kansas City and are still here. In addition, most of the people included in the project are over fifty: people who have lived and created history in Kansas City. Question: Did your project bring about any positive thoughts of having our own museum? You know, we do not have an historical museum, and when I first came to Kansas City, I had to go out a search for the pieces of history of this town. To date we don’t really have a Kansas City historical museum where we can go and attach ourselves to our history. I wondered if the project brought about that kind of a sentiment. Mickett: (The woman asking this question is Esther Wolf, who was interviewed for this project. She’s a dynamic social activist.) The History Speaks advisory committee has talked about a history center, and several people interviewed asked about establishing a center for the history of Greater Kansas City. Of course, Jonathan Kemper, one of the

© WHMC-KC, University of Missouri, 2003 Carol A Mickett October 22, 2002 Page 20 advisors for History Speaks, has been very active in his support of Kansas City history. Although we do not have a center for Kansas City history, we do have Western Historical Manuscript Collection and David Boutros. WHMC-KC has an extensive collection of historical documents concerning the history of Greater Kansas City, and David Boutros’ knowledge is phenomenal. The importance of WHMC-KC moving to a larger facility cannot be stressed enough. I may sound like a booster, but having worked with David and his staff on several occasions, I know the value of what they can deliver. A new facility with easy access could act as a history center for Kansas City. Also one should not forget the downtown branch of the Kansas City Public Library. Its Missouri Valley room is devoted to the history of Greater Kansas City, Missouri, and Kansas. Mickett’s concluding comments: I’d like to say one thing before we leave. I can see that there are a lot of people in the audience who were involved in the History Speaks project. This project wouldn’t work unless all of you were willing to participate. All of you have lived such incredible lives and were able to talk about them. I’d like to thank all of you for having helped make this project a success.

Previous Charles N. Kimball Lectures

The Charles N. Kimball lectures may be found on the Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City website at www.umkc.edu/WHMCKC/. Also located there is the full text of the Midwest Research Institute’s Midcontinent Perspectives Lecture series from 1974 to 1993.

April 20, 1995 - Robert A. Kipp, Crown Center: an Emerging Vision for Urban Development April 22, 1996 - Albert P. Mauro, The Realization of a Dream: the Development of Hospital Hill April 21, 1997 - Dr. Robert H. Freilich, To Sprawl or Not to Sprawl: A National Perspective for Kansas City April 21, 1998 - Mr. James M. Kemper, Community Banks and Their Role in Civic Planning October 21, 1998 - Mr. Donald H. Chisholm, The Philanthropic Philosophy of Arthur Mag April 21, 1999 - Ms. Vicki Noteis, Visions of a City: Kansas City’s Planning Legacy October 21, 1999 - Mr. John A. Dillingham, It’s All About Eating: Kansas City’s History and Opportunity April 24, 2000 - Mr. Gerald W. Gorman, Ilus Davis: Exemplar of “The Greatest Generation” October 23, 2000 - Rabbi Michael Zedek, One man views the Heartland: a Critical study of Character and Community April 23, 2001- Dr. Kala M. Stroup, Kansas City and Higher Education: A Partnership for Prosperous Citizens and Cities October 22, 2001 - Mr. Robert R. Wheeler, A Review of Education in 2001: And a Look Forward April 30, 2002 - Dr. Charles J. Carlsen and Dr. Wayne E. Giles, The Peoples College: Community Colleges in Kansas City

A new book from WHMC-KC!

Cher Oncle, Cher Papa The Letters of Francois and Berenice Chouteau Dorothy Brandt Marra Marie-Laure Dionne Pal David Boutros Published by the Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City [ISBN 0-9710496-0-2 $24.95 / Paper cover / photographs and maps]

Order from and make checks payable to: Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City 302 Newcomb Hall, UMKC, 5100 Rockhill Road, KCMO 64110- 2499 Phone: (816) 235-1543 / Fax: (816) 235-5500 / Email: [email protected] Orders from individuals must be accompanied by check or money order. (Add $3.00 postage and handling per volume. Missouri residents add $1.62 sales tax per volume.)

The Western Historical Manuscript Collection, a joint collection of the University of Missouri and the State Historical Society of Missouri, contains primary source materials for research and welcomes use by scholars, students and the public. Our network allows for the full resources of the Collection—the holdings of all four branches in Columbia, Kansas City, Rolla, and St. Louis—to be available to researchers throughout the state. The Kansas City office opened in 1980 with a mission to collect, preserve, and make available for research, documents relating to the history and culture of Kansas City, western Missouri, and the Midwest. Since that time approximately 10,000 cubic feet of documents has been acquired. The Collection owns the papers of important civic and political leaders such as Charles Kimball, Ilus Davis, Charles Wheeler, Oscar Nelson, H.P. Wright, Lou Holland, William Volker, and L. Perry Cookingham; the records of businesses and industries such as the Kansas City Board of Trade, the Kansas City Stock Exchange, and the J.C. Nichols Company; a very large collection of materials relating to Kansas City’s built environment, including the records of the architectural and planning firms of Hoit, Price and Barnes, Wight and Wight, and Hare and Hare, among others; the records of not- for-profit civic and social organizations, including the Chamber of Commerce of Greater Kansas City; the Kansas City PTA, the Woman’s City Club, and the National Council of Jewish Women; the papers of scholars and historians who have researched and written on Kansas City’s history, including materials from the Kansas City History Project, and the papers of Bill Goff, Lyle Kennedy, A. Theodore Brown, and James Anderson; and a variety of other collections dealing with such diverse topics as labor unions, the Battle of Westport, music and cultural arts in Kansas City, neighborhood development, civil rights, Kansas City school desegregation, and the overland trails. Questions about the use of or donations to the Collection should be directed to David Boutros, Associate Director of the Kansas City office. (816) 235-1543; [email protected]

www.umkc.edu/WHMCKC/

Cover photo: Champions of the anti-Pendergast Machine campaign Rabbi Samuel S. Mayerberg and U.S. District Attorney Maurice M. Milligan, interviewed by WHB’s John Thornberry, 1948. Don Davis Papers (963kc), WHMC-KC.

Western Historical Manuscript Collection-Kansas City 302 Newcomb Hall University of Missouri-Kansas City 5100 Rockhill Road Kansas City, Missouri 64110-2499