I am a big fan of the “Kansas City: Then and Now”  and “Kansas City: Then and Now 2” books. No matter where you live there is a history and as much as everyone makes fun of old people and their “back in my day” stories, they are actually very entertaining. These books tell the stories with photos of the past and present side-by-side and, unfortunately, the present is not always better then the past.

I wanted to do something like that for a long time on a smaller more amateur level and with the help of the Johnson County History website I will try post some photos once in a while.

A group of men gathered in front of an automobile at the ground breaking for Andy Klein Pontiac dealership.

Here is what it looks like now (click for more):

Not really much of an improvement, but I am sure Mr. Klein would have been proud. The JoCoHistory website has some additional photos tagged “Andy Klein Pontiac” as well as Mr. Klein’s personal photos.

A business like an auto dealership touches many lives and I imagine in the old days it was more personal then now. Over the years it has probably seen a lot of happiness and excitement on its sales floor. Wouldn’t you get excited buying this “General Motors Masterpiece” in 1955,or, should I say “back in the day”.

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Today’s feature may be called “Back to the future” or “Forward to the past” because it goes back to the time when this metro area had a commuter rail which some of us so desperately want now.

The description of this image reads:
Black and white film negative of two trolley cars on the Strang Line between Pflumm & Haskins on Walnut. The car at the left is an open car. Text on the left end: “SANTA FE TRAIL ROUTE.” Text along the side of the car roof: “MISSOURI & KANSAS INTERURBAN RAILWAY.” The car has a number of seated passengers and two children stand in the end of the car. Several of the women passengers wear hats. The right car is an enclosed car. An oval on the side of the car, in which the name of the car is may read “OGERITA.” The building at the far right is the Lenexa mill. A portion of a railroad stations appears to be visible behind the cars. Several utility poles run along the track. A portion of a house is visible at the extreme left. Bare dirt in the railroad right-of-way is in the foreground.

You can find a brief history of the Strang Line on the the JoCoHistory website. Strang Line (officially named Missouri and Kansas Interurban Railway) was developed by William B. Strang Jr and existed between 1906 and 1940 providing a link between Olathe and Kansas City and further on to St.Joseph. A book by Monroe Dodd (recently laid off from the Star so buy the book!) A Splendid Ride: The Streetcars of Kansas City, 1870-1957 has more details and a better quality picture of the same or similar train. A website by Ed Gentry is dedicated to the Interurban linking Kansas City and St. Joseph.

Today the old Strang Line can still be traced on the map and in a surviving street name.

The site of the old picture still has rails but they belong to the real railroad.

In the end it’s always the real people who make the old pictures come alive. Someone named Bob Blackwell commented on the museum photo in October 2006: “The picture is looking to the Northeast so the dirt road is probably at the front of the old Trails End Hotel. I have fond memories of the Strang Line although I do not remember any open cars. I do remember the Obregon car. My mother Francis Blackwell used to take me to Kansas City on the Strang Line so she could shop. I rode the Strang Line to Olathe to high school in 1938 until it closed down.”

Maybe some day we will be able to ride “the highest, coolest and most beautiful ride out of Kansas City” and create our own fond memories.

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This look at the past was brought to you by the Kansas City Lunch Spots : Where Lunches and Spots Meet In The Open. Also sponsored by: My Job: Three-day weekends – plenty of time to waste Additional financing by: Light Rail: Dream on.
Previous posts here.

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When I was growing up© every able-bodied male over 18 years old was drafted to serve 2 years in the Army or 3 years in the Navy. Very few people were able to escape the draft based on health and other reasons. Going to college resulted in getting the lowest officer rank but even then a person had to serve some time and if you quit or got kicked out of school, guys in uniform came looking for you without delay. Threat of the military service was probably the single largest stimulus for getting into and staying in college for any male.

Exactly 20 years ago, on July 8^th, 1988 I had to report for duty at the local draft station. Several hundred young men gathered in the yard waiting for their fate to be decided by chance and lucky or unlucky circumstances. We all wore old clothes and had backpacks with personal items, we all tried to act brave pretending that this was just another day in our so far mostly care-free lives. In reality, for many of us it was the first day of our adult lives. Most of us have never been separated from our parents for more than a few weeks, many of us never traveled far away from home, we stood there looking like we could care less but our future couldn’t have been any more uncertain.

In the middle of the yard on a desk there were stacks of personal files. Once in a while an officer walked in (they called them “buyers”) with a requisition for a certain number of people and grabbed a handful of files from the top of the stack. That simple act decided where the draftee would spend the next few years: the most unlucky ones were stuck for 3 years in the Navy where being short almost guaranteed a submarine; the others got the Army and shorter guys didn’t fare much better – they were a perfect fit for a tank. In 1988 they were still sending people to Afghanistan, so your file being on top in the wrong time could ultimately decide if you would come home in a zinc coffin. And then there were locations – anywhere from remote posts inside the Arctic Circle, to scorching desert sands; mountains, faraway borders, big cities, resort towns, or somewhere deep in the woods where you’d see people once in 6 months – military was everywhere and all these places needed new “meat”.

My parents didn’t try our “Jewish luck” – a friendly (bribed) officer kept taking my file off the top of the stack until a good buyer showed up. I ended up only a few hundred miles away in the engineering regiment. My parents were happy – I was not too far, I never found out how much money and favors did it cost my Dad. I was happy – I didn’t end up in some horrible dump. “Friendly” officer was happy – he had a reason to celebrate. And the Soviet Army got one of the most worthless soldiers in its history.

That hot day in July of ’88 is still with me. Anxiety and fear long ago faded away but I still remember the buyer grabbing my file from the stack, like a hand of fate grabbing my life and pulling it into a mysterious unknown future.

I wrote a little about my first day here.

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Due to my bad memory I now have to write down the things that grind my gear-skiy, which grinds my gear-skiy even more. So lets just get to this month’s edition:

Any business with the words “granny” or “grandma” in the name should immediately be shut down by authorities for not passing the “stress test”. There is some mortgage company whose radio commercials start with the words “Kids? Granny!”. This is one granny I can’t wait to see dead.

People who list every ingredient in their meal adding the word “organic” to  it, something like “I got two slices of organic whole grain hand-ground bread, one half of an organic free-roaming hormone-less  chicken breast on top, with an organic home-grown tomato and topped it off with an organic, non-GM slow-mixed dressing”. Makes me wanna eat something with a good helping of fertilizer and die.

White people who accentuate their super-correct pronunciation of Spanish words and names. Something like “Viarrrragosssssssa“. Concentrate on the other 4 Spanish words you know: taco, burrrrrrrito, cerveza and “¡Yo quiero Taco Bell!“.

Have you ever walked into a grocery store to the smell you imagine to be the smell of hell, where the combination of fire, brimstone and sinners being fried produce a distinct unbearable stench? Then you have witnessed a food demonstrator who can’t cook. It’s hard to believe what one (old) person with an electric skillet can do to stink up a store the size of a football field. This doesn’t apply to food-sampling people at Costco who only demonstrate the foods with pleasantly delicious smells.

Have you seen these electronic billboards along the highway that seem to change every 30 seconds? Sometimes it takes me 3 days to get the whole ad; most of the time I catch the beginning, middle or the end of the display in random order, not that it matters – most of them are for either Dane or David Cook (I’ll have to drive by few more times to see which one for sure). By the way, if you paid for tickets to see Dane Cook, I don’t mind losing you as a reader.

People who put bible verse numbers on their license plates. Let me get my pocket reference bible out to find out which verse you are quoting – about the “eye for an eye” (EX 21:23-27) or about not eating pork (Leviticus 11:7-8). How about just sticking with generic state-issued numbers or something less cryptic like:

And now, since we are on the photo portion of this post, here are a few more:

If you visit The Pitch’s website, this picture is probably very familiar to you, it was their illustration to the article about people who overcame the rickets.

Lastly, I am a big fan of all things multitasking, like this new supplement which can help you eliminate two opposite conditions – constipation and diarrhea, not to mention urgency. To that I say: genius! Next in the pipeline: drugs that simultaneously cure baldness and excessive hair growth, reduce and increase appetite, and always popular supplement to treat insomnia and help you stay awake at the same time.

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February 23rd has a special meaning for people who grew up in the Soviet Union. Originally started in 1918 as the Red Army Day, then renamed “The Soviet Army and Navy Day” and now “Defender of the Motherland Day” this holiday became a de facto Men’s Day when all men were celebrated even if they never served in the military. Starting at the young age it was a day of anticipation for boys, when girls would bring them small presents and souvenirs to school just so the boys could brag, compare and play with them for the rest of the day (the favor was returned on March the 8th). For those who served it was a highly anticipated day off, with delicacies such as two boiled eggs and buckwheat for breakfast and maybe a rare day on the town (if you happened to serve near one). For the rest of the people it was another reason to have a drink.

Over the years my opinion about my military service has changed from a wasted years of my life, two years of missed opportunity and needless sacrifice, to a fun and careless time when all I had to worry about was escaping any semblance of work and exercise at all costs. Although I was one of the most worthless soldiers the Soviet Army had ever seen, they got exactly what they paid for with their 7 rubles a month, which was just enough for a lunch and a few packs of cheap cigarettes. I made sure of that.

Even though the Soviet Army is long gone, I still get a few messages from friends and relatives on this day. Mostly it’s a connection to the innocent days of our childhood when a simple souvenir and a card made us feel like men (slide show of old holiday cards below).

Much has changed since the days of my military service. In the video below the Choir Of the Ministry of the Internal Affairs performs with the duo Ottawan, something that couldn’t have happened 25 years ago, when people from the same ministry were busy banning Western music.

httpvh://youtu.be/XkoHoAPTzdM

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