JimmyCsays: At the juncture of journalism and daily life in KC

It was a shock to learn last Thursday night that two outstanding Kansas Citians, lawyers Paul E. Vardeman and W.H. “Bert” Bates had died.

Then, this morning, news came that former Mayor Charles B. Wheeler, who served on the 29th floor of City Hall from 1971 to 1979, had died.

I knew all three men from my years at The Star.

You can read Vardeman’s obituary here. I have not seen obituaries for either Bates or Wheeler.

They all had long lives. Wheeler and Bates made it to 96, and Vardeman to 92.

…I’d like to tell you some of the things I remember about each man.

Wheeler

I got to know Wheeler about the time he was elected mayor in 1971. I was just getting my start as a political reporter, and I had been assigned to cover the Jackson County Courthouse several months after George W. Lehr defeated Wheeler for presiding judge of the Jackson County administrative court in August 1970.

Wheeler told me later that on the night he lost to Lehr, he got on an elevator wherever the “victory” party was being held, and a Channel 4 reporter named Don Keough got on the elevator with him. Keough put a microphone in Wheeler’s face and said, “Now that this is over, are you planning to run for mayor next year?”

Wheeler said he had never given a thought to running for mayor, but at Keough’s mere suggestion he made an instantaneous decision. “Yes,” he said. “I’m going to run.”

Six months or so later he defeated the “silk-stocking” candidate, Dutton Brookfield, even though Brookfield had The Star’s endorsement and that of the Citizens Association, then the main political group in city politics. The endorsements weren’t enough to overcome Wheeler’s inherent popularity, due mainly to his openness, sense of humor and penchant for big ideas.

Wheeler and his wife Marjorie liked to play golf at Swope Memorial Golf Course (then known as Swope No. 1), and I was fortunate enough to play with them a few times.

What I remember most about the Wheelers, though — and not a lot of people knew this — was that they lost one son to suicide and another in a plane crash in Colorado. A third son, Graham, died at age 63 two years ago. Marjorie was housebound with a heart condition for many years before dying in 2019.

It was not an easy life for Charlie and Marjorie, but Charlie never let any of kind of setback get him down very long. He was a brilliant man, and that brain was always working…He is survived by two daughters, Marion of Kansas City, and Nina Wheeler Yoakum of Orlando, FL.

Vardeman

My first “beat” at The Star was the Jackson County Courthouse, which I covered from 1971 to 1978. Vardeman was one of the judges I got to know early on. He was one of the very best judges — maybe the best — at the time. He was also gregarious. He and another judge, the late Tim O’Leary would frequently drop by the press room on the fourth floor mezzanine to chat. Both called me “Scoop.”

I remember that Vardeman used to drive a yellow Karmann Ghia — pretty sporty for a judge, I thought. I also remember that one time when we were talking about my journalistic career, he said something like, “Scoop, you ought to be willing to go anywhere that a good opportunity takes you.” Already, though, Kansas City was setting its hooks into me, and the prospect of leaving didn’t agree with me.

Unlike a lot of judges, Vardeman didn’t consider the bench the capstone of his career. After serving for 18 years, he joined the Polsinelli law firm in 1982 and stayed with the firm until he retired in 1997. I don’t recall ever seeing him after I left the courthouse.

Bates

I didn’t know Bert very well, but I will never forget the time our paths crossed. Once in the 1980s, when I was covering City Hall, I discovered that the City Council Finance Committee had held a secret meeting at a Plaza restaurant to work on the upcoming city budget. It was — and is — a violation of the Missouri Open Meetings Law for a quorum of any legislative body to meet without posting public notice.

The afternoon that I learned about the meeting, I raced back to 1729 Grand and went straight to the office of publisher Jim Hale.

“Jim,” I said, “the City Council Finance Committee held a secret meeting at Fedora’s last week, and I think we ought to sue.”

Hale, who loved an adventure and was something of a vicarious reporter, said, “Yes, I agree…We’ll sue them!”

The firm of Lathrop & Gage represented The Star, and Bert was the managing partner. The two Lathrop lawyers who worked on the case (it was civil, not criminal) were Tim McNamara and Jon Haden, who were First Amendment experts.

When the case went to trial in Jackson County Circuit Court, I testified, and Judge Forest “Frosty” Hanna quickly found the meeting participants — Bob Lewellen, Katheryn Shields and Joanne Collins — guilty. He fined Lewellen, the committee chairman, $100 and Shields and Collins $50.

A week or so later, Bert took us out to lunch at the River Club to celebrate the victory. Everyone involved in the case, with the exception of Hale, who didn’t particularly like parties, attended.

I remember opening the luncheon by offering a toast to the legal team at Lathrop & Gage for “not only winning but obliterating the opposition.”

It was a sweet day, and Bert picked up the check. Of course, Hale had paid the legal bill, which, even back then, was probably a few thousand dollars.