The alarm went off bright and early on Sunday July 24, 2016 and before I knew it, we were standing in front of the State Capitol building in Topeka, Kansas. Although I was comfortably situated inside the camera case, I was able to view the magnificent capitol building in the heart of Kansas.
For me, it was a breathtaking site to gaze up at the copper-plated dome that was taller than the United States Capitol’s dome. I was carried all around the outside of the Capitol; and each side offered a new and equally spectacular look at a building that began taking shape just five years after Kansas became a state in 1861. When I gazed up at the top of the dome, which was 304-feet above the surrounding grounds, I saw a bronze figure of a Native American drawing his bow skyward towards the North Star. That statue was named Ad Astra; and at over 22-feet tall, has stood in place on the peak of the dome since 2002.
Once we were finished at the State Capitol Building in Topeka, Kansas, I was in for a royal treat – one that was only 70 miles to the east. As we crossed the state line back into Missouri, it only took a few minutes before we were face to face with the home of the Kansas City Royals – Kauffman Stadium. Even though it was only 9:40am and the Royals game with the Texas Rangers wasn’t scheduled to start until 3:00pm, my photographer had to talk our way into the stadium’s parking lot without paying the $15 fee. Tom and Vicki had no intention of staying for the ballgame, but my cameraman had wanted to capture a few images of Kauffman Stadium and its neighbor Arrowhead Stadium.
Our visit to the two stadiums did nothing for me. I knew that Tom and Vicki were sports fans, but for me the time we spent at Kauffman and Arrowhead was a waste of time. However, had a President delivered a speech in the parking lot in the past, I would’ve been ‘all in’. Unfortunately for me, I have no choice as to where I go or what I see; all I am able to do is nod my head with a painted smile on my face. I don’t complain because I am usually taken to some pretty cool places and I get to see some very historic sites.
My smile got a lot bigger, at least in my mind, when we arrived at our next site on the agenda – the Research Hospital and Medical Center in Kansas City, Missouri. The large medical complex was located roughly 14 miles southwest of Harry Truman’s home in Independence and was the hospital where our 33rd President had died on December 26, 1972.
Vicki had parked the Avenger in the hospital’s parking lot and while she stayed in the car, my photographer carried me to a couple of areas where we had a good view of the hospital for our photos. In the grassy median of the road that passed in front of the medical center, we also found a small replica of the Statue of Liberty. That “Mini-Liberty” was one of about 200 statues all around the country that were dedicated by the Boy Scouts of America.
When my photographer was finished snapping photos of the hospital’s exterior, he carried me back to the Avenger and told his wife that we were going inside the building to locate the room where Truman had died. Vicki thought we were crazy, but she also knew that my cameraman could talk his way into anything. The last thing she said was: “Don’t get into any trouble.”
Once we were inside the seven-story medical center, we had no way of knowing where to go. Several attempts by Tom to get exact information of the whereabouts of Truman’s “death room” went nowhere; members of the medical staff that he spoke with had no clue as to where the room was or if it still existed as renovations to the hospital had been made over the years. After about ten minutes of wandering from floor to floor, we stumbled upon a nurse on the fifth floor. In a stern tone, the robust nurse asked my photographer what we were doing walking around the hospital. I was excited when I heard Tom recite his well-rehearsed spiel and I waited for the nurse to show us to the room. But this time the result was different: “You just can’t be walking all around this hospital; you need to leave and leave now.” I couldn’t believe my ears; had my photographer lost his touch? Even though the nurse made the woman at Washington’s tomb seem nice, at least the chunky Florence Nightingale didn’t say that I was irreverent. She simply gave us the boot.
From the hospital where we had somewhat struck out, we headed north for about five miles until Vicki pulled up in front of a two-story brown house on Kansas City’s east side. I remained in the camera case as my photographer walked up to the front of the home. As I peeked out from the opened case, I could see a statue of Mickey Mouse sitting on a mushroom in the front yard and a round image of the famous rodent in a second-story window. It turned out that the home was where Walt Disney and his family had lived in 1910 when the famed animator and artist was just nine years old.
A little over a mile west of Walt Disney’s childhood home, we found a place called Laugh-O-Gram Studio where the famed artist once created short animated films after he had returned to Kansas City following a stint with the Red Cross during World War I. It was also in his second-floor office that Disney found the inspiration for his most famous character – Mickey Mouse. In a later interview, Disney mentioned that he became fond of a brown house mouse that he fed while working alone in his office. He would tap the little mouse on the nose with his pencil and feed it cheese. Before Walt left the studio in 1923 for Hollywood, he carried the little mouse to a backyard and let it escape to freedom. Five years later, Disney showed his wife a drawing of a cartoon mouse that he named ‘Mortimer Mouse’; but Lillian suggested he rename the character “Mickey”. That turned out to be a pretty good suggestion.
I was nervous as my photographer carried me across the street toward the boarded-up building; it didn’t seem as though we were in the finest section of Kansas City. When I looked up at the second-story windows, I imagined Walt Disney as he handed cheese to the tiny mouse in his office. It was sad to see that historic building in such disarray and I had hoped that someday the former Laugh-O-Gram Studio would be turned into a Disney museum; although the neighborhood was in dire need of renovation as well.
It was 12 noon and the temperature was in the upper 90’s. That’s when my photographer had the hair-brained idea of going to a baseball game. No, not a Kansas City Royals game. He wanted to visit Community America Ballpark in Kansas City, Kansas and see a T-Bones minor league game against the Winnipeg Goldeyes.
During the game, my photographer carried me around in the camera case as he took pictures from various areas of the stadium. At one point, when Tom was in the centerfield seating area, he engaged in a conversation with a middle-aged guy who looked like Kevin Costner’s character in Field of Dreams. “Ray Kinsella” seemed nice enough, but he also showed the tendencies of being a “Stage Five Clinger” as he mentioned hanging out at the nearby Hollywood Casino where we could get a great view of Kansas Speedway’s Turn 2. Once my cameraman had captured his images from his outfield view, we headed back to meet Vicki seated behind the first base dugout.
When we arrived back to our seats, Tom mentioned to his wife that he wanted to head immediately to the Hollywood Casino and escape the day’s extreme heat. He also mentioned that he wanted to avoid another close encounter with “Ray” who told us he might head to the casino after the game. Tom said that with any luck, we would be in and out before we had a chance to run into the overzealous T-Bones fan.
Normally my photographer and his wife don’t gamble much when they visit a casino; and the Hollywood Casino was no different. The two of them limited their gambling budget to forty-dollars each and they set off to find a machine to spend it on. Within the first five minutes after our arrival, Tom found his “dream” slot machine – a penny machine with a KISS theme. Being the big gambler that he was, my photographer wagered $1.50 on each pull and had lost half of his money in less than five minutes. After Tom had inserted his last “Andy Jackson” into the machine, it appeared that it was going to disappear just as fast as the first one. But then out of nowhere, and with only enough money left “in the bank” for one final pull, my cameraman hit it big. The slot machine began to flash and the KISS song “I Was Made For Loving You” blared out of the speakers; when the excitement was over, Tom had hit for $177.60. In an effort to see if his KISS luck would last, my photographer continued to play the machine. When his good fortune didn’t continue, Tom ‘cashed-out’ with $166.50 in his hand.
It was nearly 3:30pm, our bellies were full and we managed to avoid the T-Bones fan, even though my photographer saw him sitting at the casino’s bar. Back in the Avenger for the two-hour drive to Abilene, Kansas, the car’s thermometer had hit 102-degrees and the air conditioner couldn’t pump cold air fast enough.
For me, Abilene was the highlight of Sunday and Monday. Not only was it chock-full of Dwight Eisenhower sites, I was also going to meet Bob “The Big Bopper” Gilbert and his wife Amey. The Gilbert’s had left their home in Yoder, Kansas, which was 97 miles south of Abilene, to see the Eisenhower sites with me – not to mention to visit with my photographer and his wife, too.
The Holiday Inn Express in Abilene was the perfect motel for us as it was located only two-and-a-half miles from the Eisenhower Presidential Library, his boyhood home, and Ike’s gravesite. It was also situated next door to the Brookville Hotel that featured the best chicken dinners in the state of Kansas, at least according to The Big Bopper. Unfortunately for my photographer and his wife, we got into town just as their doors were closing and Tom wasn’t able to gorge himself on the famous fried yard bird.
After I was placed on the desk in the motel room, my cameraman and Vicki headed off to dinner without me. When they returned, I was so disappointed to find out that they had also stopped at the Eisenhower sites to see them at sunset. Not only did my photographer take a few images of Ike’s final resting place, he mentioned that he should’ve taken me to the gravesite as he and Vicki were the only ones there. Tom figured he missed a golden opportunity to set me onto the marble slab that covered Eisenhower’s grave located inside a small chapel.
Monday July 25, 2016 was a day that I had anxiously anticipated since we had left home. We met up with the Gilbert’s for breakfast at the motel and then arrived at the Eisenhower sites just before 9:00am. We achieved our goal to be on the first tour of the day at the boyhood home of Dwight D. Eisenhower.
I posed for a handful of photos with the exterior of the Eisenhower boyhood home as a backdrop. It was cool because Ike moved into the two-story home with his parents and five brothers when he was eight-years old and lived there until he left for West Point in 1911. Even though the future 34th President was born in Denison, Texas, he considered Abilene his hometown.
The interior of the home was nice and I went to every room in the first floor of the two-story house. Unfortunately, Ike’s bedroom was on the second floor and that area was off limits to tourists. I posed for photos in a handful of the rooms, but it was difficult as the interior was fairly dark and the use of a flash was prohibited. My photographer didn’t want to be yelled at again and obeyed the rules.
Located a couple hundred feet behind Eisenhower’s boyhood home was Ike’s Presidential Museum and his Presidential Library. Also situated between the two buildings was the bronze statue that my photographer saw the night before. After I had my closeup look at the statue, I was carried inside the museum where I was photographed near some artifacts associated with Ike’s life. During our time inside the museum, I was surprised that my photographer obeyed all of the rules.
My visit to the Eisenhower Presidential Museum was great and I enjoyed spending time there with The Bopper as I was carried around to the different displays. While I was focused mostly on Ike’s Presidential artifacts, Bob loved every aspect of the museum; especially the displays associated with World War II.
Finally, the time had come for what I had been waiting for since we left Independence. My visit to the grave of Dwight D. Eisenhower marked a milestone for me. Ike’s was the 19th gravesite that I had visited and at that moment I was at the half-way point to my goal of seeing every Presidential grave.
Dwight D. Eisenhower died at the age of 78 from congestive heart failure on March 28, 1969 at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington D.C. When Ike was buried inside the Place of Meditation at his Presidential Library in Abilene on April 2nd of that year, he was interred alongside his son Doud Dwight “Icky” Eisenhower who had died from scarlet fever at the age of three in 1921. In 1979, Ike’s wife Mamie was interred alongside her son and husband following her death on November 1st at the age of 82.
After I had posed for a few photos outside of the Place of Meditation, I was carried into the small chapel for some pictures at Ike’s gravesite. My photographer had planned on placing me on the marble slab that marked the President’s grave, but the surveillance camera and the numerous armed security guards that were on the property served as a deterrent. When it came down to risk versus reward, my cameraman looked at the plain marble slab that had no visible markings and decided against taking the chance of going to jail. Tom also didn’t want his friend, The Big Bopper, to be an accessory to “the crime”; especially after Bob said, “Man, I don’t know if that’s a great idea. I think I’m going to go back outside so I’m not a witness.” When my photographer changed his mind at the moment of truth, I thought to myself: “Tom had his chance last night when no one was here, but he blew it by leaving me at the motel. That should teach him a valuable lesson!”
I think Bob Gilbert was happy that my photographer didn’t take the chance on placing me on the gravesite, at least from what I had heard as we walked towards the Visitor’s Center that was located a short distance from the Place of Meditation. While we were inside the gift shop, it warmed my heart when The Big Bopper bought a Dwight Eisenhower bobble head. To me, that meant that I had a positive influence on him; likely from my pretty face or the way my pony tail was a hangin’ down. Perhaps it might have been the wiggle in my walk, or even the way my head bobbed to Chantilly Lace when The Bopper sang that classic song!
For the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon, Bob and Amey hung out with us in downtown Abilene. After an early lunch, our group shopped at a handful of antique stores in town and we simply enjoyed the time together. I had hoped to see some Presidential mementos in the antique stores, but once again that didn’t happen.
After our heartfelt farewell was shared with the Gilbert’s outside of an antique store in Abilene, our goal was to spend the night 93 miles away in Wichita, Kansas. When we were about halfway to the largest city in Kansas, my photographer mentioned to his wife that KISS was playing that night in Wichita and that he would like to find the arena to take some pictures of enthusiastic fans that had donned the famed makeup. He also promised her that he had no plans of going to the show; he simply wanted to see the thousands of fans and feel the excitement of being close to the hottest band in the world.
At roughly 4:30pm, we arrived at the Quality Inn near Park City, Kansas; which was roughly ten miles from Intrust Bank Arena – the site of the KISS concert. Immediately I was placed in my usual place next to the television set as my photographer decided to leave me at the motel. I was extremely upset because I wanted to see some of the goofy people wearing makeup too, but Tom and Vicki left me fending for myself.
When they returned to the room at about midnight, I heard them talk about their time in Wichita. It turned out that as Tom snapped photos of some fans, Vicki asked him to check to see if any tickets to the show were still available. When they walked into the box office, my photographer and his wife came away with two 10th row seats on the main floor. Tom laughed and said he justified the cost of the two tickets after winning over $160.00 on the Hollywood Casino’s KISS slot machine. He said it was karma and simply “meant to be”.
After Tom mentioned that he nearly caught a guitar pick from Paul Stanley during the show, he played a video of the KISS encore that he had recorded on his phone. I was able to hear Eric Singer’s rendition of ‘Beth’; which was followed by the Pledge of Allegiance led by the Starchild. Since the show was billed as the ‘Freedom to Rock Tour’, KISS played the Star Spangled Banner; which sent goosebumps up and down my resin body when I heard the replay. The finale of the encore was their signature song and arguably the greatest rock anthem ever recorded: Rock and Roll All Nite.
From hearing the excitement in Tom’s voice as he relived the night with KISS, I had wished even more that I could’ve been taken into the arena with them. But when the Catman’s away, the bobble head will play – and I had a surprise for my two companions when they arrived back from the show. They may have had the Freedom to Rock; but I had the freedom to Rock and Roll All Nite while they were gone.
“Dedicated to my friends Bob and Amey Gilbert”
