If Our History Were Written West to East 

Ignorance of history is helping fuel the controversial White Christian Nationalism movement. There are plenty of people in our political world who prefer to keep things that way.

To base our understanding of our nation’s history on Jamestown, Plymouth, Pilgrims and Puritans and interpretations of their reasons for coming here—and the reasons behind more than a century of explorations before they arrived—is a grave mistake. It shortchanges our future as a nation and as a nation’s people.

One of the best cases for understanding our history differently is in a letter written by our great poet Walt Whitman after he had been invited to compose a poem to celebrate the 333rd anniversary of the settlement of Santa Fe, New Mexico.  It is dated July 20, 1883. It is critical of those who think our history began on the rocky shores of Massachusetts and Virginia.  The invitation to deliver the poem arrived too late, he wrote, so he had to decline. “But I will say a few words off-hand.”

We Americans have yet to really learn our own antecedents, and sort them, to unify them. They will be found ampler than has been supposed and in widely different sources. Thus far, impressed by New England writers and schoolmasters, we tacitly abandon ourselves to the notion that our United States have been fashioned from the British Islands only, and essentially form a second England only—which is a great mistake. Many leading traits for our future national personality, and some of the best ones, will certainly prove to have originated from other than British stock. As it is, the British and German, valuable as they are in the concrete, already threaten excess. Or rather, I should say, they have certainly reach’d​ that excess. To-day, something outside of them, and to counterbalance them, is seriously needed.

Thus seething materialistic and business vortices of the United States, in their present devouring relations, controlling and belittling everything else, are, in my opinion, but a vast and indispensable stage in the new world’s development, and are certainly to be follow’d​ by something entirely different—at least by immense modifications. Character, literature, a society worthy the name, are yet to be establish’d​ , through a nationality of noblest spiritual, heroic and democratic attributes—not one of which at present definitely exists—entirely different from the past, though unerringly founded on it, and to justify it.

To that composite American identity of the future, Spanish character will supply some of the most needed parts. No stock shows a grander historic retrospect—grander in religiousness and loyalty, or for patriotism, courage, decorum, gravity and honor. (It is time to dismiss utterly the illusion-compound, half raw-head-and-bloody-bones and half Mysteries-of-Udolpho, inherited from the English writers of the past 200 years. It is time to realize—for it is certainly true—that there will not be found any more cruelty, tryanny, superstition, &c., in the résumé of past Spanish history than in the corresponding résumé of Anglo-Norman history. Nay, I think there will not be found so much.)

Then another point, relating to American ethnology, past and to come, I will here touch upon at a venture. As to our aboriginal or Indian population—the Aztec in the South, and many a tribe in the North and West—I know it seems to be agreed that they must gradually dwindle as time rolls on, and in a few generations more leave only a reminiscence, a blank. But I am not at all clear about that. As America, from its many far-back sources and current supplies, develops, adapts, entwines, faithfully identifies its own—are we to see it cheerfully accepting and using all the contributions of foreign lands from the whole outside globe—and then rejecting the only ones distinctively its own—the autochthonic ones?

As to the Spanish stock of our Southwest, it is certain to me that we do not begin to appreciate the splendor and sterling value of its race element. Who knows but that element, like the course of some subterranean river, dipping invisibly for a hundred or two years, is now to emerge in broadest flow and permanent action?

If I might assume to do so, I would like to send you the most cordial, heart-felt congratulations of your American fellow-countrymen here. You have more friends in the Northern and Atlantic regions than you suppose, and they are deeply interested in development of the great Southwestern interior, and in what your festival would arouse to public attention.

Very respectfully &c.,Walt Whitman

Here we are, 141 years after Whitman’s letter, being encouraged by the “seething, materialistic and business vortices of the United States, in their present devouring relations, controlling and belittling everything else.”   Whitman’s letter still calls on all of us to realize history written west to east is a valid subject and that the more comprehensive history will bring about “character, literature, a society worthy the name…through a nationality of noblest spiritual, heroic, and democratic attributes.”

It is a national shame that so many prefer “devouring relations, controlling and belittling everything else” to understanding the reverse geographical truths of our history that will allow us to achieve “the broadest flow” of the representative democracy we only partially understand, and in only partially understanding it continue to further disadvantage our country.

(Photo Credit: PBS “The American Experience”)

 

How to be a Leftist With One Word

The word is “Democracy.”

The denigrating reference to one of the most honored words in our American existence was stunning when I read it.

“Democracy” seems to have become a bad word for some people.

The Jefferson City newspaper had an article yesterday about whether our city council elections should become partisan political elections again.  The City Charter adopted three or four decades ago made council elections non-partisan.  But in last month’s city elections, the county Republican committee sent out postcards endorsing candidates.

All of them lost.

A new political action committee established to oppose a Republican-oriented committee that killed a library tax levy increase last year had its own slate last month. All of the non-GOP candidates won, which prompted a leading member of the GOP-oriented group to comment in the paper that the new PAC, as the paper put it, “used leftist buzzwords like ‘transparency’ and ‘Democracy’ on their website.”

Friends, when things have gone so far out of whack that “Democracy” is nothing more than a “leftist buzzword,” our political system is in extremely perilous condition.   And if the same side considers “transparency” to be something that is politically repugnant, it appears that a substantial portion of our political system has abandoned one of the greatest principles of our national philosophy—-that government of the people, for the people, and by the people should not hide what it does from its citizens.

City councils are the closest governments to the people.  Elections of members of city councils should focus on the issues that most directly affect residents of wards and cities, not on whether candidates can pass party litmus tests or mouth meaningless partisan rhetoric.

The Jefferson City newspaper spent weeks publishing articles giving candidates’ opinions on the issues that confront citizens living on the quiet (and some noisy) streets of the city. Voters had ample opportunities to evaluate candidates on THEIR positions, not whether they were an R or a D.

Bluntly put, the county Republican committee did not respect the non-partisan system that has served our city well for these many decades.  And to have one of its leading characters dismiss words such as “transparency” and—especially—“Democracy” as “leftist buzzwords” is, I regret to say, a disgrace.

The Jontay Thing

Just as Monday’s entry was being written came news of the tragedy of Jontay Porter, the Columbia kid, ex-MU Tiger, fringe NBA player who is the first person permanently banned from the NBA since Jack Molinas was banned 71 years ago for betting on games he played with the Fort Wayne (now Detroit) Pistons.

The Porter case is of special interest not only because of his Missouri roots but also because Missourians might be deciding whether sports betting should be legalized in our state—and what that might mean to the confidence we have in our big-time sports teams and their games.

Alex Kirschner, writing for Slate.com says Porter “did things worse than anything Pete Rose ever got up to.”

Jeff Zilgitt of USA TODAY was equally unforgiving when he wrote, “In all of Jontay Porter’s idiocy, he provided a service to other professional athletes who might consider placing bets on games in which they are direct participants or in which they have insider knowledge to provide to gamblers. It’s almost impossible to pull it off in a world of legal, regulated and monitored gambling. It’s even more impossible when you’re as blatant as the NBA says Porter was.”

Kirschner  notes that sports leagues “make a lot of money off of people betting on their games…It’s a cash grab, yes.  But from the leagues’ perspective, it’s also a payment in exchange for tolerating certain risks. Sports leagues profit from betting but they are also terrified of it.” 

 Porter, he says, committed two sins and flirted with a third.  He disclosed privileged information to bettors and manipulated in-game outcomes. In Porter’s case, he took himself out of a game early so he would not meet projected performance levels.  The third circumstance that terrifies leagues, says Kirschner is outright throwing of games. “The single easiest way to threaten a league’s multibillion-dollar business is for people to doubt that they’re watching a game left to chance…If that goes, everything could go.

Porter is only 24 years old. Kirschner says his career is in the dumpster because he has been involved in the biggest betting scandal involving a player since sports wagering was legalized in this country in 2018. “If the Black Sox were a 10 on the scandal scale,” he writes, “Porter probably is a 6 or 7.”

Zilgitt darkly predicts this will happen again. “Someone always thinks they can beat the system, and maybe someone can but not Jontay Porter and his simple attempt at trying to make extra money. It’s inevitable, just as it was inevitable it happened in the first place.” Porter, who has spent most of his pro career in the NBA’s minor league, was being paid $410,000 this year to play for the NBA’s Toronto Raptors. The league investigation says he made $22,000 on the bets he placed on the game from which he removed himself, claiming illness.

The “idiocy” that Ziglitt attributes to Porter is explained by Kirschner who writes that the kid used the gambling companies that partner with the pro leagues to place his bets—-and those bets are monitored by the leagues. “If Porter were collaborating with underground bettors and bookies, his activity would have gone undetected,” he wrote.

In Kirschner’s view, pro sports teams are just asking for this kind of problem.  Sports wagering companies are aggressively advertising their “services,” leading to greatly expanding participation in betting. He bluntly observes, “A bigger pool of bettors means a bigger pool of potential crooks. In a subtle but real way, the NBA courted the Porter scandal.”

Pro sports leagues fought against sports wagering until the U. S. Supreme Court legalized it nationwide in 2018.  Once it was legalized, the leagues had no choice but to get in bed with the betting industry.  Pessimists might be forgiven for wondering if they’ll stay on their separate sides of the bed.

And whose reputation is damaged by this scandal?  Not the gaming industry.  It’s sports and those who play them.  A player has been banished for life. Pro sports worries whether its fans think its product is genuine and honest.

Zilgitt quotes NBA Commissioner Adam Silver saying the Porter case “raises important questions about the sufficiency of the regulatory framework currently in place, including the types of bets offered on our games and players.” Zilgitt notes Silver has advocated federal regulation of sports wagering and suggests outlawing or limiting certain kinds of bets.

Not considered by either columnist is what role state regulatory agencies can play or should play in terms of disciplinary actions against casinos that handle such bets or wagering companies that process them. In this case, the hammer has fallen on the player, deservedly so, but those who took, paid, and processed his bets appear to be facing no penalties.

Missouri’s pro sports teams are gathering signatures to get a statewide vote on a constitutional amendment legalizing sports wagering.

The proposal mirrors bills introduced in this year’s legislative session that grievously disadvantage the state and the programs that rely on gambling income for their budgets.  The Missouri Gaming Commission has warned that the legislation pushed at the Capitol by gaming interests does not raise enough revenue for the commission to adequately regulate sports wagering. Nor does it do anything to punish the betting industry that produced the measley $22,000 that Porter won.

“Measley,” as in how little he gained compared to how much he has thrown away.

The Porter scandal is a tragedy for him and for sports in general.  How will Missouri voters see the issue now that one of our own has become a self-induced victim of a system we are being asked to approve?  He might be the first but nobody expects he will be the last.

If Missourians approve the proposition, will they also undermine trust in the games that they love?  How many Porters are needed before we wonder about every missed free throw, every error, every missed tackle, every overthrown pass, every wide shot on goal?

(If you want to read the full articles on which we’ve based two entries):

Jontay Porter NBA betting scheme is a lesson in stupidity (usatoday.com)

Athletes beware: Jontay Porter NBA betting scheme is a lesson in stupidity (msn.com)

One Man’s Vision—8   

We’ve shared with you in the last four weeks one man’s vision for a greater Jefferson City (well, actually two men, as we wrote about Mayor C. W. Thomas—who inspired this series—in our first entry).  Our list is far from inclusive of all good ideas nor is having a vision my exclusive domain. You have been invited to share your visions and I hope you will do that now that we are wrapping up this series.

All of this ambitious talk about places to meet, places to visit, and places to live has overlooked a lot of our people who have few or none of the opportunities to participate.  If we are to be a great city, we cannot overlook them.

At the library, we sometimes hear about our “homeless problem” and there are those who tell us they won’t visit the library or bring their children there because of “them.”  Those patrons and other critics demand we “do something” about them.  “They” make people uncomfortable.

The library does not have a homeless problem. The CITY has a homeless problem and the public library is an uncomfortable participant in it—because we have to be.

We are a public institution and whether a person owns a mansion or sleeps in a box, that person is part of “the public.”  There is no place for them to go during the day after their overnight accommodations shut down.  We are their warm place on frigid days. We are their cool place on oppressively hot days.  We are their bathrooms.

I’m sorry that some people are offended because “they” don’t dress as well as most of us…or smell as good as most of us and they hang around our building.

We do not often have any problems with these folks although there have been times when we have called police and some have been banished from our premises.  We have signs throughout our building reminding our homeless visitors not to sleep there. Our staff can’t be a dozer police, though, because of their regular duties.

But most of them are okay. We do not judge them on various criteria any more than we judge any of you. You are the public, constituents using a public place in a personal way, too.

I have not had a chance to ask our critics what their solution is.  But ignoring the issue or saying it is someone else’s problem to solve is something for the Old Jefferson City—-at a time when a BOLD Jefferson City should be our goal.

Celebrations of things such as bicentennials of becoming the state capital can work in more ways than one. We should make sure our bicentennial observance doesn’t leave “them” out.  They are people, the public, fellow citizens.  And they deserve—by their presence among us—respect.

Great cities do not become great by only catering to people who smell good.

To do any of the things I have discussed in this series to move a good city toward greatness without facing the problems of those to whom greatness is just a word is irresponsible.  As citizens of this community we are responsible to and for one another. That’s what the word “community” implies.

I can’t tell you how to make these things discussed in these entries happen. Many of you have the expertise I lack.

Leonardo daVinci made drawings of flying machines. The Wright Brothers made the machine that flew.  Humphry Davy, Warren de la Rue, and Joseph Swan made electric lights but Thomas Edison created the incandescent bulb. Carl Benz created a gasoline-powered automobile but Henry Ford showed how to manufacture them.  John Fleming invented the vacuum tube but Guglielmo Marconi created radio.

Some have ideas. Others have the expertise to realize them.

So I’m going to leave you with three statements that have motivated me most of my life and I hope they encourage you to become active in this quest.

The English playwright George Bernard Shaw wrote a lengthy play called Back to Methuselah, retelling some of the earliest stories of the Bible. He creates a conversation in which the snake convinces Eve she should want to learn, that she should eat from the tree of knowledge instead of just living mindlessly in the Garden of Eden.  The snake appeals to her curiosity by saying, “You see things, and you say ‘Why?’   I dream dreams that never were, and I say, ‘Why not?’”

I am asking today, “Why not?”

The German philosopher Johan Wolfgang von Goethe continued that thought when he advised, “Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men.”

I am asking you to dream bigger dreams than we have dreamed, bigger even than a new convention center.

Goethe’s  tragic masterwork, Faust, includes this observation:

Lose this day loitering—’twill be the same story
To-morrow–and the next more dilatory;
Then indecision brings its own delays,
And days are lost lamenting o’er lost days.
Are you in earnest? seize this very minute–
What you can do, or dream you can, begin it,
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it,
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated—
Begin it, and the work will be completed!

I am asking our city to be bold.

A bicentennial’s greatest value lies not in dwelling on the past, but in building a foundation for the TRIcentennial. It still will not be good enough to be the Capital City.  What more can we be….if we lay the foundation for it now?

I want our bicentennial to be characterized by a sense of boldness that turns a “good enough” city into a great one, that discovers the genius, power, and magic in boldness.

A century ago, a mayor who had seen this city become a modern city that in his lifetime fought off two efforts to take the seat of government elsewhere—Sedalia’s 1896 statewide vote on capital removal and efforts after the 1911 fire to build a new capitol somewhere else—and who modernized our town died dreaming of a convention center.

His spirit of progress is worth recalling and becoming a motivator for becoming a greater city.

You’ve read one man’s vision for accomplishing that.  What is yours?

How can we do it?

One Man’s Vision—7 

We recognize that not everyone wants change.  The status quo is comfortable, predictable, and requires little effort or participation. Life is good as-is.

And it’s cheaper than trying to be better.  Better equals more taxes. More taxes advocated by those who want their city to BE more are a burden to those who think they cannot afford to live in a greater city.

It’s hard for some to see the benefits that come with a desire to be better.  But the business world shows us that people want better things, will buy them, and the commerce generated with those purchases lifts both ends of economic boats.

But still, there are those who will say “no.”

Decades ago, while working at The Arcola Record-Herald, a small-town Illinois newspaper that provided my first journalism paycheck, I came across “The Knocker’s Prayer,” published in 1918.  Some of the language is dated but the sentiment is contemporary for some people.

Lord, please don’t let this town grow.  I’ve been here for thirty years, and during that time I’ve fought every public improvement.  I’ve knocked everything and everybody, no firm or individual has established a business here without my doing all I can to put them out of business.  I’ve lied about them, and would have stolen from them I had the courage.

I have done all I could to keep the town from growing and never have spoken a good word for it. I’ve knocked hard and often. I have put ashes on the children’s slide and I’ve made the Marshall stop the boys from playing ball on my vacant lot.  Whenever I saw anyone prospering or enjoying themselves, I’ve started a reform to kill the business or spoil the fun.

I don’t wany the young folks to stay in this town and I will do all I can by law, rule and ordinance to drive them away. It pains me, O Lord, to see that in spite of my knocking, it is beginning to grow, Someday, I fear I will be called upon to put down sidewalks in front of my property and who knows but what I may have to help keep up the streets that run by my premises.  This, Lord, would be more than I could bear. It would cost me money, though all I have was made right here in this town. 

Then, too, more people might come if the town begins to grow, which would cause me to lose some of my pull.  I ask, therefore, to keep this town at a standstill, that I may continue be the chief calamity howler. Amen.

But great, or even good, futures are not made by those who choose to stand pat, who argue against daring to be better.

The American Revolution was led by a bunch of rabble-rousers who found British subservience intolerable.  The frontier was expanded by those who dared to cross the Alleghenies. The Civil War was fought because the status quo that allowed one people to own other people was no longer acceptable. The Santa Fe, Oregon, and California Trails were populated by the minority who left comfort behind for greater opportunities (and, we have to admit, destroyed the status quo of the Native Americans in their way) west of Missouri.  Everything of modern society comes from those who saw beyond what-is to what can-be.

The status quo and its costs are not static. The expenses of maintaining the status quo, usable streets for example for example, increases.

The future IS expensive but so is maintaining the present. For a little more, we can reach for a little greatness. And history shows leaders always drag the “knockers” along with them.  And the “knockers” enjoy the benefits of progress, too.

There are always going to be “knockers,” the people who say, “We can’t do this” or “Why do this?”

The pioneers, the leaders, the people who still embody the American spirit of making life better for themselves and those they know and will never know, are the ones who ask, “How can we do this?” and then find the answer to their own question.

The first gubernatorial inauguration I covered as a reporter was that of Warren Hearnes, who was sworn in, in 1969 for his historic second term, and said in his inaugural speech:

To do and be better is a goal few achieve. To do it, we are required to make sacrifices—not in the sense of shedding our blood or giving of our lives or the lives of those we love, but sacrifice in the sense of giving of a part of those material things which we enjoy in abundance. A great people will sacrifice part of that with which they have been blessed in order that their children will be better educated; their less fortunate more fortunate; their health better health; their state a better state.

We must never fear as a city to ask better of ourselves, for ourselves, and for those we drag along with us.

There’s another group that risks staying behind when others reach for something better.

In our concluding post in this series, we’ll talk about those we should not overlook in our search for greatness.

One Man’s Vision—6 

The day that the announcement of the downtown convention center was made might have been the day that Mayor Fitzwater got a letter from me congratulating him for abandoning the old prison.  MY suggestion, written in that letter, was that the city buy the Capitol Plaza Hotel, eliminating a competitor for convention business, and to overhaul the hotel as a convention center, working with the state on building a big exhibition hall and a big parking garage on the vacant state land behind the hotel.

(In truth, I have no idea whether the present owners would sell the hotel or sell it at a reasonable price.  But some time ago, I checked the owners’ webpage and it seemed to be one of the smaller and least attractive hotels in the portfolio. I also am told it needs a good freshening-up.)

I am comfortable with the city exploring the site it is exploring and I am likewise comfortable with the questions that have been asked about the long-term adequacy of the current plan. I am confident they will be answered during the long process ahead. And we should not be surprised if the final design is substantially different from the preliminary drawings we have seen. The process of completing a project this ambitious involves a lof of adjustments and evaluations.

I was the president of the State Historical Society of Missouri when we built our $37-million Center for Missouri Studies in Columbia and I know that what we built is far different from what we first thought we would build—-and it’s not on the site we originally hoped to use. But we kept asking, “How can we do this?” We were unafraid to adjust and to evolve and our finished product is still breathtaking to me five years after I helped cut the ribbon at the front door.

I imagine the city officials behind the convention center understand the finished product might be different from the early drawings we have seen.  The important thing is that the city has started moving on this project and I am confident the final result will not be hastily-drawn or carelessly-built.

As mentioned earlier—from my various viewpoints, I see this as the beginning of a series of bold moves that can make us a greater city today and be an example to the people of the next hundred years that being “good enough” is a mindset of the past.

But what happens if the planned convention center location doesn’t work out?

It’s ways good to have a Plan B. In this case, my Plan B focuses on the Capitol and Madison site.  I will leave a new convention center location to others if one is deemed more practical and advisable. The ultimate decision will be up to the mayor, the city council, and the citizens who will be asked to finance it.

But how will the city recover its Capital Avenue investment if that site ultimately proves to be less feasible than originally thought?

Here’s one man’s vision:

Downtown condominiums for middle-to-upper-middle income residents that will contribute to a broader renewal of downtown beyond improving the bar and restaurant trade.

Why middle-to-upper middle class condos?  Think of how many thousand state workers come into downtown every day to work who would like to live within walking distance of their jobs.

Those condos coupled with the Simonsen redevelopment, Capitol Avenue restoration and additional re-development of upstairs areas of downtown stores would revitalize the city core and lead to more close-in redevelopment spirit that could spread to the south side.

Of course, if people are to return to our central core, they will need services.  If I were one of the bigger grocery stores, I would be thinking of opening a satellite store downtown; there’s plenty of available spaces, and anything not available from the downtown store can be easily delivered from one of the main stores on our periphery.  And that might be just a start.

I will leave it to your thoughts about how this could revitalize a wide area of our city’s heart in several different ways.

Understand I am not hoping for the failure of the Madison and Capitol convention center concept. Right now, the proper question is being asked: “How can we do this?”

But it’s always good to think about a Plan B.

One Man’s Vision—4 

A state-of- the-art comprehensive Jefferson City/Cole County History Museum, at the old prison—discussed in the previous entry in this series—should be only a start.

Let’s shoot for the moon.

What really would be a giant step toward greatness would be he acquisition of another museum, one destined for a Smithsonian-quality reputation.

Six years ago we had a shot at getting the Steamboat Arabia museum to move here from Kansas City. But our planning group never got beyond talking, talking, talking and the expertise I hoped would develop when the group was formed never did develop. In effect, we decided we are good enough, as is. And one important business leader straight-out told me it wouldn’t work here.

None of the people I thought would take the practical lead did. But another smaller, more ambitious town went beyond talking and what it discovered for itself speaks volumes of what Jefferson City would have discovered had there been some initiative generated by all of that talking and should be a challenge to Jefferson City to show it wants to be more than the state capitol, more than a convention center can give us, more than we are.

City leaders in Marshall reportedly raised $150,000 for a feasibility study of a steamboat museum at I-70 and Highway 65. The initial investment would be high. The payoff will be large and long-lasting

The findings show that the payoff of this major commitment will be multiples of what was forecast for the Marshall/Sedalia/Lexington area.

I took a lot of notes at the meeting where the findings by the consulting firm of Peckham, Guyton, Albers & Viets (PGAV) were revealed three years ago.

PGAV called the museum proposal “a chance to put something iconic in Central Missouri.’  It described a state of the art museum with a national and regional strategy. It addressed continued investment that renewed the museum’s life cycle, the development of supporting amenities, the financial sustainability for generations, and the leadership the project would provide for future development.

The company looked at tourism strategies—attracting people to the area, creating support for the project, and connecting the museum to other parts of the country by defining a larger region to draw from.

They saw the museum as being a local draw and, more important, a destination attraction. PGAV calculated the trade area for the museum south of Marshall at more than 7.5 million people within a three-hour travel time.  The study forecast the operating costs would be about $2.4 million a year, based on an $18 adult admission fee, retail sales, and food and beverage income, among other things. It could be operated with 18 fulltime employees.

The first phase would be a 77,000 square foot museum (about double the present footprint, that would hold the Arabia and a second boat (we’ll discuss that later) and provide support and storage space on 3.7 acres, including parking. Estimated cost: $37 million.  That’s what we built the Center for Missouri Studies for in Columbia—a three-story, 77-thousand square feet building.  By the time the third phase of the steamboat museum would be completed, the complex would cover 8 acres, including parking

PGAV’s site analysis pointed to the great visibility of the museum from I-70 and to the great amount of open land at Marshall Junction.

The company found that museums are “economic engines” for an area—that non-profit art and culture attractions have an economic impact of more than one-billion dollars in Missouri (that’s a 2015 study).  They calculated that $1 generated by such a museum would generate $3.20 for the economy.

The study identifies several financial tools created by state law—Community Development Block Grants, Neighborhood Assistance tax credits, Community Improvement Districts, and ta exempt bonds issued by the Missouri Development Finance Board.

Additionally, PGAV calculated the national 250th anniversary celebration in 2026 will create federal funding capabilities for projects with about two-billion dollars allocated for state signature projects—and the museum, they said, would be a prime choice that a signature project (Jefferson City benefitted from the Bicentennial in 1976 by getting funding for restoration of Lohman’s Landing when it was declared a statewide bicentennial project).

In Summary, PGAV concluded that the Marshall-centered market would be enough to support a destination museum that would be an anchor for other tourism assets in the region (Arrow Rock, Sedalia and the State Fair, Santa Fe Trail sites, etc.  It would develop tourism synergies for local tourism in a three-county region (or broader), it would trigger multiple development opportunities near the Marshall Junction interchange and would create an economic development opportunity when combined with other attractions.  The study indicated the museum would draw 3.7 million visitors when phase one opens in 2026.

If that is true for Marshall, consider what it would mean for Jefferson City.

The population of Columbia, Jefferson City, and Fulton tops 182,000.  The combined populations of Marshall, Sedalia, Lexington, Boonville, and Moberly is about one-third that.

Seven state or private institutions of higher education within thirty miles of Jefferson City have more than 44,000 students. Another thirty miles, north and south, are Moberly Area Community College and the Missouri University of Science and Technology that add another 12,000 students. Sporting events and parental visits bring tens of thousands more people to those schools.

Add tto that, that Jefferson City is on the way to the Lake of the Ozarks. Lake Expo recently estimated 2.5-million people visit the Lake every year, 75% of them between May and September.

Increased tourism is only part of the benefit. The steamboat museum here could offer academic opportunities in technology, archaeology, textile preservation, museum management, American Western history, and other programs at or through those higher education institutions. The museum could benefit them and could gain benefits from them.

And think what a museum dedicated to grow in coming years or decades to capture the history of  the golden decades of Missouri River commerce and frontier development (1820-1880) could do.  The goal of the museum is to have artifacts—and maybe complete steamboats—excavated from past river channels, now farm fields from each of those decades.  Arabia museum President Dave Hawley has one of those boats located and test borings indicate the Malta might be complete enough to bring up as whole as possible. He would love to open a new museum with an 1841 steamboat in it.

Think about that.

Six years ago, we had the chance to raise about five million dollars to pay the costs of excavating the Malta and having it here, keeping the museum project highly visible while he rest of the project developed. Only one person was asking, “How do we do that?”  Nobody answered.

At the time, major fund-raising was focused on the Bicentennial Bridge or on the Missouri River Port.

I wrote at the time that I didn’t see hundreds of school buses with thousands of school children and their adult chaperones visiting a river port or taking in the view from Adrian’s Island as they would visit a steamboat museum.  To be clear, I think Adrian’s Island will be appreciated more in ten years than it was then or might be appreciated now. I can’t recall the last time I heard anything about the riverport but it’s not likely something I will take visiting relatives to see.

The Arabia museum is running out of time before it closes and the collection possibly moves to Pennsylvania, significantly, in November, 2026. Making the acquisition of that museum for our city as the official Capital City Bicentennial Project would be about a $50 million initial commitment. But it would transform our city and it would be an incredible driver to prison redevelopment as well as an incredible complement to the convention center/capitol avenue restoration and redevelopment effort.

Based on my conversations with Joe and Josephine Jeffcity, the steamboat museum would enhance chances for approval of a bond issue for the convention center, the library, and the historical museum, together or separately.

How can we make this step toward greatness happen?

Why should we do it?

Some of us are old enough to remember President Kennedy’s September 12, 1962 speech at Rice University when he set the goal of a manned moon landing within the decade:

“But why, some say, the Moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask, why climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic?…We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win.”

The steamboat museum can be, should be, Jefferson City’s moonshot.

At the risk of sinking into hyperbole, bringing this museum to Jefferson City could be the greatest reach for greatness in city history since civic leaders organized the construction of our first Missouri River bridge that helped blunt Sedalia’s effort to steal the capital in 1896.

How can we organize and measure the best of our energies and skills to make it happen?

How can we do it?

 

One Man’s Vision—3 

I am writing this series of entries—six of them in all at this point—not entirely comfortably because they are intimately personal thoughts, and suspecting that they might be perceived as self-aggrandizing and presumptuous, two characteristics I have not much appreciated in the people I covered in my long life as a political reporter.

Why am I indulging in this exercise that involves unflattering questions about whether our city is so self-satisfied as the capital city that it is reluctant or even resistant to striving to be not just good but great?

And who am I to do it?

Asking the second question is a partial answer to the first question.  Why sholdn’t we expect more from ourselves, FOR ourselves, and for those who come after us?

This city is where I have had a successful career, where I have raised my family, where I have participated in its activities, and where I long to return to regardless of what part of the world I have been in.

I have never sought or wanted to seek public office—-although I have been asked a few times if I was interested. I’m just one of forty-thousand or so citizens living on a quiet street, retired from daily job responsibilities but involved in a few church and civic activities.

I care passionately about my town and what it can be.

—-because I know what it has been and what it is.

That’s right. MY town.  I have a proprietary interest in it, as do you, or as should you. And I want it to be better.  I look around and I see ways that it could be and I wonder if it has the courage to reach for greatness.

I came to Jefferson City fifty-seven years ago to report news for a radio station that no longer has its studios here.  Fifty years ago this November, I joined with one of my best friends, Clyde Lear, to create The Missourinet.  At the time, I was the Secretary of the Jefferson City American Revolution Bicentennial Commission—-I count the successful 18-month effort to bring the American Freedom Train to the town named for the principal author of the Declaration of Independence as one of the best things I’ve ever done for my city.

I am now the president of the regional library board, a member of the Cole County America 250 Committee—a group formed to commemorate, in just two years, the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence—a life member of the Cole County Historical Society, and Past-President of the State Historical Society of Missouri.

My sixth book, all of which deal with some part of Missouri and/or Jefferson City history, is under consideration for publication with the University of Kansas Press.

It is a mistake to think that historians live in the past.  We don’t. We use the past as lessons to consider the future, and I have been thinking a lot recently about the future of my town, and yours.

A coincident combination of recent events and circumstances has triggered all of this:

—The decision to give up on the penitentiary as the site for a hotel and convention center.

—A “for sale” sign in the window of our former family pharmacy

—The defeat last August of the library’s proposed levy increase to bring our 1970s library system into the third decade of the 21st century, thanks to a secret committee that spread a giant lie to voters throughout the county.

—An ongoing effort to keep an irreplaceable historical resource from leaving the state

—A legislative refusal to fund a major restoration project filled with the lessons of history, and

—-And a citywide social problem

All of this has come together as we look the bicentennial of the City of Jefferson becoming the seat of state government on October 1, 1826, and the bicentennial of the first legislative session held here, beginning that November 20th.

So far I have heard of no plans to celebrate the city’s bicentennial as the state capital.  And I think that says something about the cultural character of my town.

I believe the celebration of the 200th anniversary of Jefferson City becoming the capital city of Missouri could change the way we see ourselves and the way others see us going forward.

Inspired by the story of Mayor Cecil Thomas, recounted in the first episode, I am offering this one man’s vision requires us to be better—no, to be GREATER—than we are.  I hope you have, or will have, your own vision.

I have formed the opinion through many years of observing my town that we have a split personality.

First, we seem to think that being the state capital is good enough.

That has never been true.

Being “good enough” is not good enough.  Great cities do not become great by being “good enough.”

I do not want to hear anyone tell me, “We can’t do this.”  Cities don’t become great because they think they cannot accomplish great things.  They become great by asking, “How can we get this done?”

Another impression I have is that we waste too much time comparing Jefferson City to Columbia.  If that is, indeed, the case, we need to get over it. And this is a good time to focus on what we can be, not what we are in comparison, or what they have that we don’t.

And third, I wonder if we are in some respects a cubicle city in which many of us go to work each day, spend the day in our own little cubicle—seldom standing to look around or to communicate with people in other cubicles—and then go to a larger cubicle that is our home. It is hard to think outside the box if you spend your life in a cubicle.

Our family drug store closed last fall. The historic soda fountain that was a landmark part of our city culture remains.  When the “for sale’ sign went into the window late last year, I began to worry about what would happen to that soda fountain under new ownership of the building—and how it needs to be saved and preserved somewhere if it is to be removed.

But Jefferson City has no place to put it, or to preserve other important artifacts from our county’s past that tell the story of how we have become what we are..

While all of this was happening, I was asked to speak at a fund-raising Tea sponsored by the ladies of the Cole County Historical Society. They wanted me to talk about the history of the society, which this year celebrates the 80th anniversary.

And the Cole County America 250 Commission was being formed about then to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.

After I saw the “for sale” sign in the Whaley’s window, I sent an email to the Historic City of Jefferson and to the Cole County Historical Society suggesting it is time for the two groups to get together and start planning a meaningful county history museum.

We do not have a museum that preserves the history of our other communities in Cole County.  There are no exhibits about Wardsville or Taos or Russellville or Osage City, Elston, or others including the little communities that winked out; no exhibits about The Foot or Munichberg.  Where can we go to learn about what an international city we are?  Where will we find the stories of Steve the Tailor, Arris the Pizza-maker, Helmut the Restauanteur, Yannis the Coffee Merchant, the pioneers of Temple Beth-el, the stories of those who serve us food from Thailand, China, Japan, Vietnam, India, Mexico—and Ireland.

Where can we learn of the migration of African-Americans, northern Missouri slaves, who crossed the river to come here to escape guerilla warfare, knowing they were safe in the first state capital to be occupied by the U. S. Army in wartime?  We need to show how Lincoln University came to be and how it has transformed through many decades into an institution of higher learning that has served this community far better than we seem to acknowledge. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people of all races in our area are walking around with degrees and advanced degrees from Lincoln.

And sports—where can we learn about Pete and Ray (Adkins and Hentges), and who WAS Dwight T. Reed?  Or where can we learn about our five (at least) major league baseball players and the five, so far, Jefferson Citians with careers in professional football? Or even the story of tennis star Althea Gibson.

We have two historical organizations, neither of which tells the story of our city and county as well as many local museums I have visited—in much smaller towns—have told about their cities and counties.

We need a city/county history museum built inside the old prison that meets modern museum standards for story-telling and is a true value to the people here and to visitors—a museum within a museum. I mentioned this at the most recent meeting of the America 250 Committee as a project that would be our legacy and committee members seemed attracted to the idea.

Developing such a museum would mean a new location for the Cole County Historical Society museum, which now occupies a 150-year old building with severe limits on space with costly upkeep costs that impede expansion.  The building would be desirable to associations or entities such as those that already occupy large amounts of building space close to the Capitol. Instead of the building being a financial drain, the sale of it would provide part of the financial foundation for a truly representative center of Cole County history.

That’s not the only important public institution that needs a new home that would fit well within the renovation of the old penitentiary and be a legacy from this generation to tomorrow’s  greater city.  We’ll explore that possibility next.

(We are sharing our vision for a greater city.  We are interested in what others hope for a better city for our grandchildren’s grandchildren.  Take some time and let us know in the response box below)

One Man’s Vision

I was reading a newspaper the other day and I came across this comment from the mayor:

“Jefferson City cannot obtain conventions of any size because of our lack of a suitable hall. Conventions and public gatherings are the finest sort of advertising for the city, and would naturally gravitate to Jefferson City, as the capital of the state if we had a hall. Then, too, we should have a community center such as all the progressive cities of the time are establishing which could house public charities, civic organizations and the like and at the same time furnish an auditorium space for local gatherings and celebrations. I think the time has come when the people of the city should take the lead in this behalf, and build the hall themselves. It will pay for itself in the volume of business and the expenditure of money by visitors brought here as a convention city.

“I would not advocate for these improvements, nor advocate for a bond issue if I did not believe the town could not afford it.  We are in excellent condition financially and our taxes are not high. Our credit is perfect and now is the time to extend ourselves to the point of providing these things which the prosperity and growth of the city demand.”

You probably missed seeing that article, because—

The Mayor was Cecil Thomas who had been elected by a large majority to his fifth two-year term and was speaking to the DAILY CAPITAL NEWS 99 years ago, on April 9, 1925.

Now, in 2024, an important step is being taken to finally realize the dream of Cecil Thomas. The abandonment of the prison as the site for a hotel and convention center is the first major step. The agreement with a developer is the continuation of a bold step finally being taken to materialize Mayor Thomas’s dream.

His announcement came just six months after a huge event was held to dedicate our new state capitol.  It came about eighteen months before the centennial of Jefferson City becoming the state capital city.

Today, we are about seven months away from the centennial of the Capitol dedication and we are about 18 months away from the BIcentennial of Jefferson City becoming the capital city.

A century has passed during which we have talked and talked and talked about a convention center.  Two centuries have passed since we became the capital city—-and it is time to examine the character of our city and the foundation you and I are laying for the people who will live here for the capitol’s bicentennial and the capital city’s TRIcentennial.

Will we just talk and talk and talk or will we start a spirit of boldness that will lift a city that sometimes seems too satisfied with the things as they are, with the image of being the Capital City being enough?

I propose we begin to confront that issue and that we opt for boldness and Mayor Thomas is an inspiring example.

Why use this long-forgotten mayor as our guide?

Cecil Thomas’s vision of a convention/community center died with him on October 3, 1928 when he suffered an apparent stroke or cerebral hemorrhage (the phrase at the time was “apoplexy) while on a business trip to Chicago.  He was just 56 years old and was nearing the end of his sixth term. Congressman William Nelson, who turned aside Thomas’s bid for Congress in 1924, said, “This city of beauty, progress, and achievement is a fitting monument to him who was so long its mayor.” Nelson represented Central Missouri for nine terms in Washington.

First National Bank President A. A. Speer, a former House Speaker and Vice-Chairman of the commission that built the capitol, called him, “Jefferson City’s foremost citizen” and suggested, “Jefferson City should build a monument and on that monument I would inscribe, ‘He lived for Jefferson City.’”

The DAILY CAPITAL News commented, “A history of his activities would read like an account of the growth and improvement of Jefferson City.”  Among the civic enterprises in which he had a hand:

—Construction of the street railway system.

—Construction of the High Street Viaduct

—Development of several additions including Forest Hills

—Promotion of the plan whereby the Missouri River bridge was taken over by a local company and is to be made a toll-free bridge.

—Promotion of the place which led to the construction of the new Missouri Hotel here.

—Active in building up the sewer system and all major projects for improvement of the city, including fire and police departments, and street improvements.

He was one of the founders and early presidents of the Jefferson City Commercial Club, now the Chamber of Comerce, a member of the Rotary Club and an active member of the Presbyterian Church.

One last project Mayor Thomas backed never materialized—a concrete tunnel on West McCarty Street “to improve and open up tht section of Mccarty in order tht Vista Place might be connected with a main artery of the community.”   At the time, the street was unimproved and was considered impassable.

The newspaper reported news of Thomas’ s death came “like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky” and “cast a pall and shadow of gloom and regred over the Capital City…He was so much a part of the integral life of the community, so closely connected with every activity looking toward a bigger and better city, and such a familiar figure pon the local streets that the full realization that he was no more dawned but slowly.

“The uptown business district streets were lined with flags, all at half-mast out of respects to the departed mayor—one of the best friends Jefferson City ever had or ever will have.”

The city was reported to be “at a standstill” during his funeral. “All businesses were closed, street cars were stationary, and the middle span of the bridge over the Missouri River…swung open for a brief period.”

The POST-TRIBUNE of August 21, 1929—about ten months after Thomas’s death—reported that returning visitors to Jefferson City were ‘surprised” by the city improvements.  “The automobile and the determination of the late Mayor Cecil W. Thomas, backed by a citizenry that favored street building were definite factors favoring this progress,” said the article. “Gone are the miles of muddy, dusty streets, which even with oiling, brought despair to women who attempted to rid their homes of the dust.”  It also cited the lighting of High Street and later other parts of town and the development of new subdivisions such as Wagner Place, Vista Place, Forest Hill, the Jordan Addition, the increased building-up of the Houchin Tract, and to the south the Morris subdivision, and of Washington Park as major improvements in the city.

The newspaper forecast the improvements had paved the way, literally and figuratively, for “still greaer growth in the next ten years.”

But it didn’t happen.  Mayor Thomas was dead.  Two months later, the stock market collapsed and the Great Depression set in.  World War II and post-war developments wiped out Thomas’s thoughts of continued growth toward greatness for his city.

Thomas’s widow, Celeste, was the granddaughter of Jefferson City’s first mayor, Thomas Lawson Price.  Their marriage in 1902 in the Price Mansion was the last social function in the historic house that stood where the Missouri Supreme Court building is today. It drew 500 friends and relatives.

When they returned from their honeymoon, they moved in with Celeste’s widowed mother at 428 East Main Street (now Capitol Avenue). Celeste outlived Cecil by 25 years. Their home, advertised for sale in the JEFFERSON CITY NEWS TRIBUNE after her death, is now the site of the Missouri Chamber of Commerce  and Industry state headquarters

Only John G. Christy, for whom the present city hall is named, served longer than Cecil W. Thomas, who died six months short of twelve years in the office.  Christy served three full four-year terms.

A city hall is named for Christy.  But there is nothing—yet—-that honors Cecil Thomas, who suggested a century ago that Jefferson City have the convention center it is now more seriously than ever finally considering building.

Cecil Thomas was a man who saw Jefferson City as a good city and who had a vision to make it a greater city.

The convention center was then and remains now a step toward that greater city and at last, Jefferson City leaders are re-kindling that dream from a century ago.

We offer a gentle hint about the convention center, however, whenever, and wherever it becomes real, at last, for our city.  Should A. A. Speer’s 1928comment about a monument to this forgotten mayor and his vision for our city be considered when naming the center?

Jefferson City doesn’t even have a street named for him.

What else can be done? We are going to explore those possibilities in subsequent entries.

What is YOUR vision for the City of Jefferson?   Let us know.

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(“One Man’s Vision” is the title of a speech I gave to the Noon Rotary Club a few days ago that began with the story of Cecil Thomas’s wish for a convention center and covers several other possibilities in addition to the proposed center.  If you have a group that would like to hear them, stick around for later articles here, or invite the author in for a talk.  Meals served at such meetings are not required but are always appreciated).

Notes From a Quiet Street (Spring break edition)

It’s been a quiet week in our modest abode on this increasingly quiet street.

Two houses across the street are unoccupied; their owners are in assisted living facilities. Some people are using the house next door that is owned by the family of a couple that both died in recent years.  A house on the corner two blocks away was vacant for several weeks before somebody bought it last week.

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It’s been especially quiet at the house where we get our mail.  Our twenty-year old plasma TV, the latest thing in technology when we bought it, conked out; it refused to come on the next morning after another woeful Missouri Tiger basketball loss. Perhaps it committed plasmacide.

I bought a new set but the crew to install it and haul off the old set couldn’t bring it to the manse for ten days.

It was kind of nice.  Nancy, who anguishes terribly as she figures out our taxes so our accountant can fill in some blanks, had no distracting things to take her away from her ongoing struggle with all of the papers, receipts, and retirement fund reports and other financial flotsam and jetsam that washing up on our financial beach.

I caught up on some research and did some writing in the quiet of the evening and worked on a speech about using our city’s bicentennial as the state capital to transform itself.  We even took some time out to READ.

The new set is a 65-incher, ten inches more than what we had but a full foot smaller than the biggest one I could have bought. But watching a 77-inch set in a living room the size of ours would be the equivalent of sitting in the second row at a real theater.

We were recalling what an adjustment it had been when we went from our 36-inch square-screen set to the 55-inch rectangular one and how it dominated the room.

Many of you who consume these words might recall your first TV set when TV itself was new.  Ours was a 13-inch Admiral on which we watched two stations and a few years later a third, but we needed an antenna rotor to move the antenna around to pick up each one.  And the national anthem was played with various military films in the background at 10:30, when the station signed off after the 10 o’clock news.

And the next morning we’d look at a test pattern before the Natioal Anthem was played with another military film in the background and the broadcast day would start again.

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This is spring break week for the legislature. It’s a chance for lawmakers to lick their wounds from the first half of the session that has been especially fractious in the Senate and pretty productive in the House despite the nagging ethical investigation into some actions or proposed actions by the Speaker.

Next week they come back for an intense sprint to the finish in mid-May except for a Monday-off after easter Sunday.

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The legislature spends the first four months getting bills lined up for passage in a frantic last week, although that system hasn’t worked because the Senate has gotten into annual mudfights between the casinos who want a state-harmful sweetheart tax deal on sports wagering and the people who want to legalize all of the thousands of questionably-legal video poker machines that have turned our convenience stores into quasi casinos, state law limiting casino locations to the contrary notwithstanding.

Jim Mathewson, the Sedalia Senator who led the Senate for eight years once explained that the legislature waits for the last minute to pass most of its bills for the same reason that many people wait until the last day before they file their income tax.

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An important anniversary comes up in Jefferson City in October.  It will be 100 years since formal dedication ceremonies were held for the then-new Capitol.  Five former governors delivered remarks.

There are now seven living former governors: Bond, Ashcroft, Wilson, Holden, Blunt, Nixon, and Greitens.  That might tie a record.  If these seven hold out for another ten months or so they will be joined by an eighth.

Speaking of the potential eighth:  I’ve ordered his book. He was interviewed at length by the Missourinet’s Alisa Nelson. It’s interesting and it’s on the Missourinet webpage. You just have to do a search.

I need to catch him when he’s gotten loose in the wild one of these days and have him sign it after it arrives in the mail.

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On October 1, 2026, Jefferson City will observe the bicentennial of the move of state government from its temporary home in St. Charles.  November 20 will mark the 200th anniversary of the first legislative session held in the new capital city.

We haven’t heard of any plans being made to celebrate those events but one idea we’ve had is a concert of Missouri music.  If you have some suggestions for songs about Missouri or by Missouri composers, let us know.  St. Louis Blues and Goin’ to Kansas City and the Maple Leaf Rag spring easily to mind.

One that I know must be included is Neal E. Boyd’s “Missouri Anthem.”

Neal E. Boyd and Brandon K. Guttenfelder – MISSOURI ANTHEM – YouTubea

Or a beautiful orchestral version:

Neal E. Boyd – MISSOURI ANTHEM Orchestral 2013 – YouTube

Neal E. Boyd died more than five years ago and it’s a great shame that The Missouri Anthem that he performed so magnificently is not more widely honored.  He rose from a background of poverty in southeast Missouri to achieve brief national fame as the winner of the third year of the America’s Got Talent TV show.  He died at the age of 42 from various ailments.

The song should replace the dirge adopted in 1949 by the legislature as our state song. The bicentennial of Missouri’s permanent state capital city would be an appropriate time to do that.