Does anybody out there remember Fairyland Park? The former amusement park at 75th and Prospect, which was later bisected by Bruce R. Watkins Drive, a.k.a. U.S. 71?
Many of you do, I’m sure.
But one person who obviously doesn’t remember Fairyland is The Star’s music writer, Tim Finn.
Finn has been at The Star about 30 years, and I would have thought he would have heard about Fairyland somewhere along the line but…
In reporting today that 1970s rock’n’roll star Bob Seger was postponing several shows, including one in Kansas City, because of vertebrae problems, Finn wrote the following:
“Seger previously performed in Kansas City in March 2015, a show at the Sprint Center. His history in Kansas City goes back to the mid-1970s, when he played at Kemper Arena, Municipal Auditorium and a place called Fairyland Park.”
I wish he would have at least Googled Fairyland Park so he wouldn’t have made it sound like it was some place in outer space.
…I arrived in KC in the fall of 1969, when Fairyland was well on the way to extinction. I missed the glory days — the 1950s and 1960s, when, according to Wikipedia, Fairyland “boasted 3 roller coasters, an 8 story ferris wheel (which was bent in half during tornado), a swimming pool (double olympic size — closed in late 50s), bumper cars, a shooting range and even a petting zoo at one time.”
In a 2014 KCUR-FM story, reporter Laura Ziegler recounted the long and mostly successful history of Fairyland. It was developed and opened on 80 acres by the late Salvatore “Sam” Brancato, a Sicilian immigrant and blacksmith who had come to the States in 1896.
“After settling in Kansas City,” Ziegler wrote, “he went into the grocery business, then began buying up real estate. He opened Fairyland Park in 1923. It would be in the family until its closing in 1977.”
It quickly became a popular destination, but it was fading by the late ’60s, in no small part because of civil rights protests regarding its largely “whites-only” policy. In the early ’70s, it turned to rock’n’roll shows to try to come back. Performers, according to Wiki, included REO Speedwagon, Dr. Hook, Blue Oyster Cult and Charlie Daniels. Obviously, Bob Seger performed there, too, although I didn’t know that until reading Finn’s story today.
The nail in Fairyland’s coffin, according to Laura Ziegler’s story, was the 1974 opening of Worlds of Fun. Among other things, WOF staged musical acts every Friday evening during the summer, as I recall. I remember seeing an Osmond-Brothers-type group called The DeFranco Family at Worlds of Fun and being enthralled. (A former roommate still trashes me about that. Truth is, after the ’60s, I lost my musical traction and stumbled around in the desert for several years, including being reeled in by disco.)
**
Like I said, I missed Fairyland’s heyday. But I do remember being there once. In fact, I have a photo of me and a young lady who were there on a hot Sunday afternoon. I don’t remember what the occasion was — some kind of gathering or party. At the time, I was a young reporter covering my first beat, the Jackson County Courthouse, where I was assigned from 1971 to 1978.
The woman I was with that day was Susan Reeder, who was administrative assistant to then-Jackson County Executive George W. Lehr.
While Susan and I never dated seriously, we got together occasionally, mostly out of convenience. There was some mutual attraction there, plus some common interests, like drinking and partying, but nothing ever came of the relationship.
I have no idea what happened to Susan…if she married, if she is still in town, if she is still alive. I do remember that day very well, though, mostly because of the photo, which, in my opinion, is a classic.
I believe it was taken by a Star photographer who was there on assignment. I think we just ran into each other and he snapped the photo. The photographer might have been Vic Damon, who liked to take photos of reporters when they were on the job. (In this one, of course, I wasn’t working!)
In any event, check out this photo of a young JimmyC and his young date, on a Sunday afternoon when neither had a care in the world and were joyous to be at a place called Fairyland Park.
**
Note: Commenter Tim Bross of St. Louis noted the resemblance between Susan and the late actress Jill Clayburgh, who died of chronic lymphocytic leukemia in 2010. Here’s a photo of Jill…
JimmyCsays: At the juncture of journalism and daily life in KC 
Hell, I grew up in Columbia and even I went to Fairyland in the 1950s.
Dig that crazy hair, wild man.
St. Louis had a similar experience. There were the Forest Park Highlands, Holiday Hill, and Chain of Rocks Fun Fair Park. The Highlands went up in flames in the early ’60s; a community college is now on the site. Six Flags came along in the early ’70s, and then it was bye-bye Holiday Hill and Fun Fair Park.
My hometown of Louisville had a similar place, called Fontaine Ferry Park. (Everybody pronounced it Fountain Ferry).
It was in the West End of Louisville, on the Ohio River. Its run lasted from 1905 to 1969. I was from the East End — pretty sheltered — and never made it to Fontaine Ferry, although some of my friends did. Like Fairyland, its all-white admission policy proved its undoing.
Oh my my, oh hell yes…
Fairyland was the happening place to be in the 50s; we lived off of 87th and Blue Ridge, so we’d just shoot down perilous 87th to Prospect, then head north past the original Smokestack to the park. Took maybe 10 minutes to get there.
In the mid-70s, after nearly a decade abroad, I discovered Fairyland had sunk so low as to proffer itself as (yet another) drive-in, albeit one that lensed those uniquely campy not quite X-Rated films…
Sad ending.
I don’t remember the drive-in era, Will…I like your description of “perilous” 87th, which has been improved quite a bit, especially where it crosses the tracks at Prospect and segues into 85th.
As to the whites-only policy, Alvin Brooks can speak to the fact that one day a year Fairyland would admit blacks. He vividly recalls black kids lined up for city buses to get there.
Your mention of Vic Damon reminds me of his extracurricular business on Main Street, the “Blue Orchid Studio,” which provided nude girls to pose for amateur photographers. His customers perused a “menu” of studio setups, such as bondage, “with U.S. Navy surplus rope.”
Vic was a genius at marketing. The phone number for the Blue Orchid featured a young voice very slowly saying, “Would you believe I am sitting here–completely nude–waiting for you?” This reached Herb Caen, the great columnist at the San Francisco Chronicle, who wrote that government workers were being accused of wasting time by calling for that sexy recorded voice.
John Haskins, then The Star’s classical music critic, called and got a live male answer. He quickly responded, “But I wanted the recording!”
I hasten to add that I was not among Vic’s customers, but he gave me a tour of the place one afternoon when we were supposed to be on an assignment.
The golden years of journalism, no doubt about it.
I was thinking about that place while writing last night, Don, but couldn’t recall the name, other than the blue something or other.
Indeed, Vic was a genius…I doubt that he stuck with photography. Too mundane for him. I would love to know what other ventures he might have gotten into.
Great story Fitz. I love the picture and the 70’s clothing vibe with the vertical striped bell bottom pants in the background, the long dress on the left and the print on Susan’s blouse/dress. Plus your hair is awesome!
That’s the brilliance of that photo, Kate…He could easily have just focused on me and Susan but he framed us on one side and captured the full context — for our retrospective enjoyment.
Great post Fitz. Great hair too….I grew up near 75th and Prospect and we would walk over there in the mid 60s to ride the Wildcat and swim in the giant pool. There was an ugly immensely fat white man who checked IDs at the pool entrance. He always cracked jokes about black people, even warning us not to get dark tans in the summer sun. i recall that by then they did allow blacks to swim in the pool but on Thursdays only, and then Thursday night they would drain the pool and pump in fresh water for the white families to enjoy the rest of the week…Pretty despicable.
Wow…That’s the other side of the gilded, nostalgic memories.
WHAT A CLASSIC!
Great story and pic. The pic cries out for a caption contest.
No caption contest. Don’t even start…
The DeFranco Family had a minor hit in the leisure suit-era with the song “Heartbeat, It’s a Lovebeat”. Quentin Tarentino paid homage to it years later in the classic opening scene of his debut film “Reservoir Dogs”. As the gangsters are eating breakfast before they pull their botched heist, one of them, played by Steve Buscemi, mentions that he heard it on a 1970s radio show. “I hadn’t heard that song since I was in the (bleeping) 5th grade!”
Was that park “at the end of the streetcar line” and placed there to increase ridership like many others were?
I’ll leave that question to someone with extensive knowledge about KC’s streetcar line.
Hmmm, if memory serves most of the city limits (as well as the Jackson Country line) at that time was 75th Street, though where Fairyland Park was in a ‘boot-heel’ that included up to around 77th. While I remember the Wornall and Broadway streetcar ending at 75th (the better to cross the county line over to the original Jaspers, where almost anything went), I don’t remember one at Prospect. ‘course, I was always traveling the wrong direction to use it…
Don’t let them say your hair’s too long
‘Cause I don’t care, with you I can’t go wrong
Then put your little hand in mine
There ain’t no hill or mountain we can’t climb
I understand she married a Baptist minister who, before reading this column, was convinced that she had never been defiled…
I doubt that…And, anyway, I never even kissed her…to the best of my recollection!
I remember going there in the early or mid 70s. My dad was a plumber and the union had their summer event there. Recall eating lunch in a big covered pavilion and walking around, riding the rides (bumper cars) and such. Just now, I can see the little individual containers of ice cream with wooden spoons. Need to talk to my dad about it now! Thanks for the memories.
Coaster enthusiasts know that one of Fairyland’s rides–The Wildcat–was rescued and moved to Oklahoma City’s Frontier City amusement park, which sits right on western frontage of Interstate 35. Make a stop there next time you’re driving to Texas.
I saw that in the Wiki article. Glad you mentioned it.
My aunt was good at securing passes to Fairyland Park. Also once for the circus which was downtown. I remember my young cousin and I entranced by the high-wire acts. My aunt, however, couldn’t bear the suspense. She vanished momentarily, came back with a copy of The Kansas City Star which she opened in front of her face so she wouldn’t have to watch.
Jennifer Johnson & Me
Song by Robert Earl Keen
Lyrics
Deep in the pocket, of an old sport coat jacket
I chanced to discover an old memory
Three for a quarter, a black and white portrait
Taken of Jennifer Johnson and me
I’m in the corner, my shirt collar open
Like some Latin lover, on late night TV
Smiling right there with her head on my shoulder
It’s Jennifer Johnson, and she’s lookin’ at me
It must have been summer, Ninteen Sixty Seven
The Beatles were singing Love Is All You Need
I held her hand as we walked through the arcade
Two young believers on a three dollar spree
Three for a quarter a black and white portrait
Jen, close the curtain so no one can see
Hey kiss me quick, ’cause the red light is flashing
It’s flashing on Jennifer Johnson and Me
Waiting on that late night train back to home
I felt her warm, in the cool evening breeze
Told her I’d probably love her forever
Forever for Jennifer Johnson and Me
Three for a quarter a black and white portrait
Jen, close the curtain so no one can see
Hey kiss me quick, ’cause the red light is flashing
It’s flashing on Jennifer Johnson and Me
Three for a quarter a black and white portrait
Two young believers on a three dollar spree
I saved you picture in my sport coat pocket
Jennifer Johnson, did you save one of me
Jennifer Johnson, did you save one of me
Oh, how I love that song. Thanks for the lyrics.
Susan a Jill Clayburgh look-alike.
Damn, Tim, you are right! The resemblance, especially in the smile, is amazing. Great pick-up…I have added a photo of Jill at the bottom of the post.