Soon after arriving in Kansas City in the fall of 1969, I began reading and hearing about this place called the Country Club Plaza, which for months I pronounced “plah-za,” elongating the first syllable. (To this day, you hear a lot of newcomers struggling with the pronunciation of what would seem to be a simple word.)
And, truly, it was like nothing I had ever seen before. Block after block of beckoning, solidly built retail stores and restaurants. The district was so extensive it seemed like a maze. Three of my favorite places were on the west side of the district — the bowling alley, Sears and Gateway Sporting Goods.
One of my outstanding early memories of Kansas City was buying a ping-pong table at Gateway. I lived at 59th and McGee in a rental house with four other guys, all MU graduates, including a KC Star colleague named Harry Hill. (Harry left the paper after a few years and went on to become a state representative and later a lobbyist at the State Capitol.) One day Harry and I decided it would be a good idea to buy a ping pong table for the dining room, which was devoid of furniture. We didn’t even have a table there; for dining we had a picnic table with two benches in the kitchen.
So Harry and I went down to Gateway and bought a ping pong table. The next problem was how to get it home. Being young guys with low salaries, we didn’t want to spend whatever it cost to have the table delivered. We talked about it and Harry came up with the brilliant idea of me holding the box while lying against the back of his dark green VW, with feet planted on the back bumper.
Do you get the picture? I was leaning against the gently rounded back of the VW, arms spread wide and holding the big box in front of me. The only thing people behind us could see of me was my hands and feet.
“Drive very, very slowly,” I told Harry.
And off we went — onto eastbound Ward Parkway, over to Main (which then crossed Brush Creek), down to Brookside Boulevard and up either 57th or 59th to McGee.
We made it without mishap, and that ping pong table served us well for several years. I believe it was still there when I moved out in 1977.
…Those old stores that many of us remember fondly — the three I mentioned, along with others like Macy’s, Woolf Brothers, Jack Henry and Putsch’s cafeteria — left the Plaza long ago. But the Plaza has always remained a special and wonderful place for Kansas City. It’s our “crown jewel” for good reason.
And now, for just the second time since J.C. Nichols built it in 1923, it is having a change of ownership.
Kansas City area residents were concerned after the Nichols Co. folded and a Raleigh, NC, named Highwoods Properties bought the Plaza in 1998. With a few hiccups along the way, Highwoods proved to be a responsible owner. And, most important, the Plaza has continued to prosper.
From today’s Kansas City Star story, it appears to me that the Plaza once again is landing in responsible hands. The incoming owners — who will pay $660 million for the Plaza — are two experienced shopping center owners — Taubman Centers and the Macerich Co. Taubman, based outside Detroit, owns and manages 23 shopping centers in the U.S. and Asia. Macerich is the third largest owner and operator of shopping centers in the U.S, according to Wikipedia. The company was founded in 1994 and has its headquarters in Santa Monica, CA.
I don’t have any firsthand knowledge of Macerich, but I have become familiar with a Taubman property — Taubman Prestige Outlets in Chesterfield, MO, just west of St. Louis. I have stopped there several times on the way to or from St. Louis or Louisville, my hometown.
One of the things I like about the Chesterfield outlet mall is it doesn’t look like a mall from the front. It could pass for a large, low office building but for the names of some well-known stores on the facade. The stores do not have front entrances, however. People funnel into the mall through a brick walkway that opens into a wide walkway flanked by stores on both sides. Almost all pedestrian traffic is not visible from out front. It is something like the inner pathway at the Prairie Village Shopping Center, if you can picture that, although much longer. Contributing to a pleasant, relaxed atmosphere in the “center court” are sculptures and a variety of plants.
Of course, it is impossible to say from this example that the Plaza will continue to prosper under Taubman. But I think it’s a good sign…Also, I wouldn’t worry about the Plaza becoming an outlet mall. With rent rates what they are on the Plaza, merchandise almost has to be top of the line, full price.
Finally, I think it’s safe to assume the Plaza Lights tradition will continue. It’s a big expense, but it draws people from throughout the Midwest.
…At this point, I have just one piece of advice for the new owners: Drop the damn fireworks display on Thanksgiving night, when the lights are turned on. (I have already written a letter to Robert Taubman, chief executive of Taubman Centers, about that. Out with the fireworks!)
JimmyCsays: At the juncture of journalism and daily life in KC 
I’d forgotten that Harry Hill was part of the “bad boy Betas” that you lived with. Lots of stories from those days, I bet!
My college in Louisville, Bellarmine, didn’t have fraternities or sororities. My first exposure was the “House of Fun South,” 5840 McGee. I remember one drunken party when a friend of ours, George Flamank, put his butt through a dining room window when he shuffled back for a deep ping pong shot. No damage, other than having to replace the glass!
As an area resident I guess I feel a certain selfishness about the Plaza. I wish its ownership could stay local; I don’t like “outsiders” taking over, but I guess that’s business. I, too, hope the new owners appreciate it and maintain its ambiance.
And if a petition surfaces calling for an end to the fireworks, I’ll be there signing it!
Thanks Jim. Brings back many memories. I first saw the Plaza in spring of ’72 when I moved in with my brother at the Dos (Dos Mundos), just west of the Plaza. I remember a guy there saying, “If you don’t like Kansas City, you are f***** up.” Still true. I remember walking to a great book store, Bennett-Schneider. I bought a drill at that Sears store. It was still working when I gave it away a few years ago.
That’s a nice memory, Tim. I remember the name Dos Mundos but can’t place it…
Local Spanish/English newspaper.
Two Worlds
Then there was the famous couch fire at 5840 McGee St. Someone at one of the many parties at the house of fun ignited with a cigarette the old couch on the front porch. Partygoers poured beer on the couch. But it continued to smolder. So, people dragged the couch into the front yard, where it erupted in flames. Someone across the street called the fire department. The fire lads attacked the couch with axe and hose. Harry Hill tried to save the couch at least from the axe. A firefighter told Harry, “You do the drinking. We’ll do the firefighting.”
I also remember George Lehr playing a winning, leave-no-prisoners game of table tennis, defeating all comers.
The damn thing never erupted into flames, Fred. It was the most overblown fire that ever occurred. Yes, there was some smoke, but nary a flame. And the quote I recall best was George Flamank saying to me, “Fitz, aren’t you going to tip the firemen? You always tip the firemen on a chicken-shit deal like this.”
He had me there for a minute; I thought maybe it was a Kansas City custom I didn’t know about.