A Tribute to a Pioneer Church on the Santa Fe Trail

Churches are the foundations of communities. When towns across the plains popped up and promoted settlement in the 19^th century, one of the first buildings carved out was that of a church.

But we have to ask ourselves- what happened to these country churches in midst of the development of Kansas City- or any city for that matter?

1950s photo of the corner of State Line
and Santa Fe Trail

In the case of the Santa Fe Christian Church, a lovely country church on Santa Fe Trail just east of State Line, this question turned into a battlefield of emotions when a small fire coupled with a new congregation led to the demise of a quaint church that meant the world to so many.

To tell the whole story, we must go back to the very beginnings of the Santa Fe Christian Church.

In the earliest settlement of Washington Township in Jackson Co., Mo., small churches were pivotal to the pioneers carving out their land. New Santa Fe, stretching on State Line between the wilderness of Kansas Territory and the state of Missouri, was platted in 1851. By 1860, the town, strategically placed as the last stop in civilization on the Santa Fe Trail, had two general stores, a blacksmith shop, a post office and High Grove Presbyterian Church, established in 1856.

Oh, but the Border Wars were no match to a bustling town filled with mostly pro-slavery Southern families.  And the height of the Civil War did nothing but destroy the town and most of its contents. In 1861, Jayhawkers led by Col. Jennison set fire to the town. According to an article from 1867 in the Christian Advocate, the church in New Santa Fe was torn down during the late war and hadn’t been rebuilt.

Needless to state, money post-war was hard to come by.

The Presbyterian church in town was never reorganized. Many families would travel on Sundays to Bethlehem Church of Christ in Hickman Mills, the nearest church in the area- a journey that was six miles from the town and would have taken a half a day to reach.

Bethlehem Church of Christ in Hickman Mills was founded in 1845 and held membership of pioneers from miles and miles around it. In 1869, a group of families living on the western border between Missouri and Kansas opted to start their own church in the town of New Santa Fe. These families, many of whom came from the stock of some of the first white settlers in southern Jackson Co., were: William A. McKinney, John M. Wells, William Rippeto, Richard Kirby, Joel Lipscomb, Marcus Gill, “Widow” Manion (likely Elizabeth Sharp King Manion) and Ellen Watson.

But building a church takes time. . . and money. Country preachers passing through would have services in homes or in public meeting spaces in the town. A schoolhouse which faced east on the Santa Fe Trail where the New Santa Fe Cemetery is today first served as a gathering place for this new church congregation.

John Mercer Wells (1826-1893), charter member
and original trustee

In February 1881, steps were finally made to “officially” organize this new group. John Mercer Wells (1826-1893) and his wife, Catherine Rippeto Wells, took three lots they owned in New Santa Fe, totaling just about 2/3 of an acre, and deeded it to the “Christian Church at New Santa Fe”.” A payment of $315 for these lots was made. Isaac Weeks (1833-1904), Jacob Sweaney (1824-1918) and Caleb D. Kerr (1842-1925) were listed as trustees of the church.

This may not seem important now, but it certainly comes into play later.

Before a church was built in New Santa Fe, members of the community started to sense the need for a community burial ground. As these pioneers reached their 50s and 60s, a permanent place of rest was determined to be of the utmost importance. Small burial grounds often were found on pioneers’ farms; however, as they sold off their lands- and later, when development of the area occurred, these burial grounds disappeared underneath roads, brush and the foundations of new structures.  

One of the charter members and trustees of the church was William Albertus McKinney (1826-1900), a Kentuckian transplant living just over the state line in Johnson Co., Ks.  When W.A. McKinney’s wife, Eliza Rippeto became terminally ill, he and John M. Wells took lots 31, 34 and 35 and formed what we would know today as New Santa Fe Cemetery. A lot adjacent to the deeded lots (Lot 30) was donated by John E. Watson and his wife, Lou Lipscomb Watson (daughter of charter member Joel Lipscomb). This spot- Lot 30- was where the church was to be built.

The first person buried at New Santa Fe Cemetery was Eliza Rippeto McKinney (b. 1839), who died December 29, 1885.

New Santa Fe Cemetery on the Santa Fe Trail is still looked after and preserved today.

Now for those of you who have visited the historic New Santa Fe Cemetery and saunter past the weathered headstones, you know very well that there are burials at that cemetery well before 1885.

This is actually not the case. As family burial grounds were in danger of being destroyed, some of these families proactively moved their remains, headstones and all, to larger cemeteries. That’s why some of the older burials, including Dabney Lipscomb, founder of the town, are there today. They were moved there.

Uh, not all were moved, though. . .

William Albertus McKinney (1827- 1900), charter
member and trustee of Santa Fe Christian Church

An article in the Kansas City Times from 1970 mentions all these small burial grounds across the city. It states, “The Kerby cemetery would have been in the northeast corner of present-day Minor Park. . . What became of this 75 to 100 graves and markers no one knows.”

The Kerby (also spelled “Kirby”) family was instrumental in the early settlement of southern Jackson Co., and Richard Kirby was one of the charter members of the Christian Church at New Santa Fe. Yet his grave location is unknown. Only 10 of these family members of the Kirby’s were moved to the New Santa Fe Cemetery… and Richard wasn’t one of them. “Uncle Dick,” as he was known to families of the area, died in 1890 and is buried… somewhere.

By the early 1890s after the death of Uncle Dick, plans to build the church on Lot 30 were well underway. In 1891, timber hauled up the Missouri River was carted down by wagon from Westport to New Santa Fe. The Christian Church at New Santa Fe was a simple country church, painted white with one door for men and the other for women and children. It had a chimney in the middle and potbellied stoves on each side. Pews from Westport were placed inside the church and were unvarnished. The Santa Fe Christian Church was dedicated in 1892 on the land, its bright white exterior and simplicity a shimmer of hope in a town that had seen so much strife in its day.

1933 artist's sketch of the church published
in the Kansas City Star

The railroad to the south and the creation of a town called Martin City was the sealing fate of New Santa Fe’s business district. But farmers- these pioneer families- stayed put. To keep the church alive, women would sell eggs, make butter and haul their goods to Westport to be sold every Friday. The social activities of the church, even after the buildings around it were torn down, moved or withered away, were the cornerstone of this pioneer community. It gave people a reason to return to the Santa Fe Road.

And that church was their social activity for just shy of a century.

Think of all this little church and its members saw in its existence- it became one of the only structures surviving in the community even as JC Nichols snatched up land and started their planning.

In 1925, the church got a small makeover. Members pooled their money and the original chimney in the center of the room was moved to the outside, the potbellied stoves were upgraded, the room was re-plastered, the roof was replaced and a basement was added.

A Kansas City Star article from 1929 mentions how the Santa Fe Christian Church hosted a church bazaar. People present could trace their family back to the southern states when settlement was sparse in southern Jackson Co. Sarah Jane McPherson Bartlett, one of the founding members of the church, stated, “Yes, I can recollect the trouble we had with the border raiders- it was the redlegs one day and Quantrill men the next, and we couldn’t do anything but just let ‘em rob us.”

A 1951 centennial celebration in New Santa Fe had the children of the area
gathered near the Santa Fe Christian Church

Burr McGee, descendant of charter member Marcus Gill who lived on a farm encompassing all of Verona Hills subdivision, fondly remembers the simpler days of the Santa Fe Christian Church. “It was all a very country small town. It was great. There were sometimes church socials outside in the area in front and on the west side of the church. I remember the cicadas buzzing, playing with other kids and eating fried chicken and cherry pie. There was Sunday School and a lot of reading from the Bible.”

Other small children that grew up in the area can still recall the importance of the church in their quaint neighborhood. Even if they didn’t attend church services, they would take up any opportunity to meet with friends for a country dinner or church event.

One of the reverends of the church, the only one that could claim the town of New Santa Fe as his birthplace, was Charles Stewart (b.1884), grandson of Archibald Stewart and Cinderella McKinney. In an article clipped from around 1939, Mr. Stewart recalled the Sunday School attendance in the 1890s when “200 youngsters and adults crowded into the building. . . The grounds were filled with buggies and wagons, the horses tied to trees while the crowd stayed for all-day services broken by a basket dinner at noon.”

Members gather at the church for a reunion in cir. 1937
Courtesy of Marilee Ciardullo

Troy Bartlett, son of Sarah McPherson Bartlett, reminisced in a 1959 article published in the Johnson County Herald, “The church has also been a big social center. The big Christmas Eve program was something anticipated from one year to the next. There were strawberry and ice cream socials, back in those days, when all the ice cream was homemade, and strawberries grew in abundance in the patches of the community.”

By the 1960s, many of the descendants of pioneer families had moved out of the area, yet several still made the Sunday pilgrimage to Santa Fe Christian Church. As the area morphed from a farming community with dirt roads to paved and platted subdivisions, the small church on a hill with its cemetery welcomed new members of newly-settled suburban families.

And five of these people, for whatever the reason, marched down to the Jackson Co. Courthouse in 1965 and incorporated the “Santa Fe Christian Church,” most likely not discussing it with members. If you recall, the church was legally named “The Christian Church at New Santa Fe,” but over the years the name had been simply shortened by locals to the “Santa Fe Christian Church.” These pioneers saw no need of any type of a new incorporation when their organization owned the land and its sacred building for shy of 100 years.

Photo of the church, courtesy of City Planning Department, Historic Preservation
(formerly City Landmark Commission)

Clues can be unearthed through these court records; this incorporation uses a Grandview, Mo. home for their legal address, and one of the men listed uses the Santa Fe Christian Church on the Santa Fe Trail as his legal address. I consider myself pretty good at researching, and the Board of Directors listed on this document don’t seem to have any attachment to the founding families – or to the area, for that matter.

The destruction of the church, in my opinion, didn’t begin when a fire took part of the building. It began with this incorporation of “The Santa Fe Christian Church” in 1965.

I’m not going to name names.

This story isn’t about them.

It’s about that little white church on top of a hill on the Santa Fe Trail that meant the world to so many.

On November 14^th, 1969 at around 7:00pm, flames and smoke could be spotted swirling on the north end of the Santa Fe Christian Church. Firefighters arrived at the location, unraveling hoses and hopping into action. In the Kansas City Times article published the next day, battalion fire chief Joseph Connor said the fire started “in a defective heater system near the altar.”

Connor stated the “structure was not severely affected, and most damage was confined to the church interior and the area around the altar.”

One can only imagine the agony that this news would have caused to the families forever entwined with this church.

Many of these pioneer families weren’t about to give up on it. They knew in their hearts and minds that it was worth saving.

As the embers were extinguished, it became exceptionally clear that the blossoming tensions were about the engulf the members, new and old, of the Santa Fe Christian Church. At first, it seemed as if things would be okay; however, the question of ownership of this organization was about to get dicey.

So many hands were about to be played.

That “new” organization, aptly named the “Santa Fe Christian Church,” incorporated in 1965, wouldn’t be located at someone’s home in Grandview for much longer.

After the frost of winter lifted and the land thawed out in the spring of 1970, the congregation gathered, allegedly not notifying all members of the church, to raze the old building bruised by the fire. People went into the church and stripped it of its pews and decorations.

These actions made many members scratch their heads and then spring into action. Hugh R. Keltner and his wife, Esther (who was the granddaughter of W.A. McKinney, charter member), opted to organize a Restoration Committee. They figured if they could raise the money to restore the church, there would be no reason to destroy it.

Bill McKinney, member of the
Restoration Committee established to
fight for the church

Boy, they were sadly mistaken.

Regardless, Hugh began an aggressive campaign and recruited many of the older members to stand up and fight. Bill McKinney, John Kernodle and Homer Klapmeyer gladly stepped on board. Between the four of them, they began to contact their friends and fellow members to generate support of restoration.

“It’s not our aim to take anything from anybody,” Hugh Keltner explained to the Kansas City Star, “We just feel we’ve got a right to have our old church restored and this cemetery undisturbed.”

In September, Hugh and Bill recruited Martin City resident and friend, Gus Broockerd, to give an estimate to fix up the Santa Fe Christian Church.

Gus, the former owner of Broockerd Construction, vividly remembers what he saw when he examined the church just over 47 years ago. “It wouldn’t have been much to repair it,” Gus recalled.

In fact, documents show that Gus Broockerd estimated the damages at $3,000 to $3,500.

And tensions in the area were growing by the minute. Gus’s neighbor was a member of the church and was completely against restoring it. “I told her, ‘You know, that church can be saved. It’s kind of historic.’”

The Restoration Committee met with the trustees of the church to try to reason with them on renovation. One balked the idea and concluded that it would always smell like smoke. Another Board Member stated the church wasn’t historic and allegedly said, “That’s the past. I’m for the future.”

In July 1970, it became clear what the future would hold. The Santa Fe Christian Church took out a permit on the land next door to begin construction of a new building.

Damage to the church from the fire
Courtesy of Martha Walton

… On land they didn’t even legally own yet.

The Restoration Committee spoke to Ray Klapmeyer, a well-known businessman that grew up in the area. He was eager to help with the finances to restore the church but said he wouldn’t help build a new one.

But a “Specialty Warranty Deed” changed everything on October 26, 1970. Three trustees of the Christian Church at New Santa Fe, the legal name of the organization given in 1881, signed pen to paper. It is alleged that some may have been misled on what they were actually signing and told it was a “release of trusteeship.” But in reality, these three men transferred ownership of the Christian Church at New Santa Fe to the “Santa Fe Christian Church.”

Yes, transferred ownership to the organization started out of a house in Grandview.

Digest that for a second.

Desperate to spawn support outside of the southern Jackson Co. area, the Keltner’s contacted the Jackson County Historical Society. Their president, Col. Slaughter wished to help but was knee-deep in restoring the Wornall House. An article was published in their Summer 1970 newsletter to generate support of restoration of the Santa Fe Christian Church.

Mel Solomon, Chairman,
City Landmark Commission

Mel Solomon (1928-2017), architect and chairman of the City Landmark Commission, answered the cry for help. He drove out to the little church and examined it. He wrote up a detailed report stating that not only was the building worthy of restoration, but it should be considered as a state landmark.

Hugh Keltner and Bill McKinney got a little wind in their sail from this news.

No one would tear down a historic landmark on the Santa Fe Trail, right?!

That Warranty Deed in October 1970 had flipped the tables quite a bit, and when the insurance money for the fire rolled in, totaling around $22,000, the money was used to purchase the land they already had a permit out on next door to the weathering Santa Fe Christian Church. In November 1970, $7,000 paid to JC Nichols set the future into motion.

The Restoration Committee could sense it was time to lawyer-up, and so they did.

I told you things got a wee bit complicated…

The Restoration Committee wasn’t willing to give up; they generated a petition in the area. Some newly transplanted Verona Hills residents signed it, stating that the church and the history of the Santa Fe Trail were “selling points” to buying their homes. 290 signatures were obtained.

Hugh Keltner and Bill McKinney met with state representatives, Nick Penna and Harold Esser at the church. They explained their case and how Mel Solomon, City Landmark Commission, believed the building should be a state landmark. The reps were excited about a landmark in the area being considered by the legislature.

The swift movement of the Restoration Committee to save their little church came to a screeching halt on December 6, 1970. A letter from the City of Kansas City was sent to the church and read aloud to the “new” organization. They had five days to tear the church down, as it was considered “dangerous.”

Hearing of this alarming news, Hugh Keltner and Bill McKinney met with their lawyer and called Mel Solomon. Both helped file the paperwork to get a 60-day extension.

For now, the church was safe from the bulldozers.

The cold temperatures outside matched the reception of the Restoration Committee as they made one last-ditch effort to plead their case to the “new” Santa Fe Christian Church on February 7^th, 1971.

William and J.K. McKinney, Eliza Holmes, Mabel Lawson, Hubert and Louise Briggs, Mary, Hazel and Robert Sharp, Hugh and Esther Keltner marched into the Martin City Elementary School where the church congregation was meeting while their brand-new building was being erected. They explained- pleaded- that private funds would be used to restore their little church and they wouldn’t interrupt any of their current plans with their new brick building.

The gates on the western edge of the cemetery
are close to where the outhouse for the church
once stood.

The matter came to a vote- again. The members of the Restoration Committee were not allowed to vote, because according to the by-laws, they had been “inactive” for 90 days. It was said that substantial gifts throughout the years had been given and older members unable to travel weren’t allowed to vote.

They wouldn’t hear it and the vote was cast. 17 in favor of demolition; 3 against.

Left with no choice, Hugh Keltner and Bill McKinney met with their lawyer on February 12^th to file a restraining order against the Santa Fe Christian Church to stop demolition.

The very next day, Hugh, possibly sensing the severity of the situation, drove up Santa Fe Road to the top of the hill at 8:00am and took a look at the little white church.

Judge Richard Sprinkle sauntered into his office that same morning and began to sign off on papers filed. At 10:36am, he signed the injunction laying on his desk to stop any destruction of the Santa Fe Christian Church.

If only that paper had made it to the top of his pile. . .

At approximately 9:30am, the equipment arrived in front of the quaint, historic church and demolition began.

Just 66 minutes too late to change history.

Bulldozers leveled the Santa Fe Christian Church before an injunction could be served. The new church, still under
construction, can be seen in the background. Courtesy of the Kansas City Star

To think of how these families must have felt seeing that pile of rubble next to the gravestones of some of those pioneers who fought, planned and saved for the building of the church. It’s heartbreaking.

The next day, Mel Solomon, chairman of the City Landmark Commission, made his feelings perfectly clear in the Kansas City Star. “I was shocked and dismayed to hear of the needless destruction of the Santa Fe Christian Church, which is on the Old Santa Fe Trail.”

Sometimes, it seems, progressiveness gets in the way of saving pieces of our history. “This is another example of the failure of individuals to see the importance and potential of rehabilitating a significant remnant of our historic heritage,” Solomon explained, “It is tragedy not only for the valiant people who worked so hard to save this church, but to the entire community and nation.”

My, how accurate this statement is even today.

After the dust from the bulldozers settled along the drastically-altared landscape surrounding the little burial ground in New Santa Fe, Hugh Keltner and Bill McKinney filed suit as “The Christian Church at New Santa Fe” against the Santa Fe Christian Church in April 1972. They sought monetary damages as well as control of the cemetery that stood in the shadow of their beloved church.

In May, 30 members of the original church stood Memorial Day weekend at the little cemetery, heads bowed in prayer. Just two months later in July, Hugh Keltner passed away leaving this organized fight a man down. And one month after that, Paul Kernodle died in a car accident and was buried in the New Santa Fe Cemetery.

To add insult to injury, Bill McKinney passed in December of that same year.

But the fight miraculously continued, many of these original members wishing for some type of resolution. And in 1975, it was finally granted.

Pioneer families formed the New Santa Fe Cemetery Association and the “new” Santa Fe Christian Church deeded part of the original lots 31, 34 and 35 to them for $1, protecting the burial ground of their family and friends forever.

Today, the outline of the baptismal font and part of the chimney of the original Santa Fe Christian Church can be seen inside the cemetery’s gates. Asphalt of the parking lot of the newer brick church covers the remains of most of the church today, although a deep sinking spot shows where the little white church once stood.

As the subdivisions moved in and the members of the church passed away, the memory of the church could have been lost in time.

But the church will live on forever.

Three years ago, a chance encounter at a store between my mother and the president of the Historical Society of New Santa Fe brought new light to the memory of the Santa Fe Christian Church. A project through the Little Blue River Chapter, NSDAR was in the works to, fingers crossed, erect a marker for the church.

“You should talk to my daughter,” my mom boasted, “She’s really good at researching things.”

Thus, I was “volunteered” to research and write a grant for this unfamiliar church.

What can I say? The rest is history.

This research not only led me to this church, but it opened the doors to incredible stories of perseverance, pioneer lives and back to that little cemetery I loved so much as a little girl. This gave birth to this very blog and inspired me to pursue my unusual passion for the history of Kansas City.

In March 2017, the final fight for the Santa Fe Christian Church was officially recognized by the NSDAR. The grant was approved and a permanent marker will be placed where the church once stood.

Along the way, one of the most rewarding aspects of this project was meeting, talking to and resurrecting some priceless friendships with these families so deeply impacted by this. I am humbled, honored and so lucky to have met them.

Rev. Charles Stewart recounted in the late 30s how the Santa Fe Christian Church was still strong even then. “The church of tomorrow will continue its work for good,” he predicted, “because its congregation is not the type to let its interest lapse.”

The foundation of the Santa Fe Christian Church and
part of the chimney are visible today

On October 7^th at 1:00pm, we will congregate one final time at the spot of the Santa Fe Christian Church and honor the founding, the fire and the fight to save this beautiful church. Many people from out of town related to these pioneers will be traveling to Kansas City for this dedication.

It’s a moment of celebration of these brave pioneers, and I hope that the community will now not forget the little pieces of it that have remained unnoticed for just shy of 50 years.

It’s my privilege to be a part of this.

Please join the NSDAR, the Historical Society of New Santa Fe, and representatives of the families of these pioneers as we have a formal Marker Dedication on October 7^th at 1:00pm. The dedication will start inside St. Gregorio’s Orthodox Church next door (940 W. Santa Fe Trail) and will proceed outside to the unveiling of the marker. Afterward, all are invited to share memories, look at artifacts from the town of New Santa Fe, and stroll the beautiful grounds of the New Santa Fe Cemetery.

From the Border Wars to a Landmark Lost: The Legacy of Marcus Gill

"It has been said that, at its best, preservation engages the past in a conversation with the present over a mutual concern for the future."

- William Murtagh

Preservation, whether through buildings or through stories, can link us to some of the most exciting times in American history.

In Jackson Co., antebellum evidence of the men, women and children - and slaves- that lived in turmoil along the border during early settlement are erased from our view. It takes a lot of digging and even more creative thinking to piece together the extraordinary change from farms and fields to the mapped-out metropolitan areas we have today.

It's time to rediscover another fascinating family that knew this area all-too-well.

Col. Marcus Gill

Colonel Marcus Gill has some seriously deep roots in the soil surrounding New Santa Fe in Jackson Co., Mo.

What makes Marcus Gill stand out from all the others?

Well, it could be because part of his vast land is a park today. Or maybe it's the fact that his son was one of Kansas City's mayors.

Or that he was extremely outspoken about many political issues.

... and he was friends with the notorious William Clarke Quantrill. Like, good friends.

However you look at it, Marcus Gill has a history that is worth telling.

Marcus Gill was born in Bath County, Ky. in 1814. He came from a family of abundant means, living in an area called Gill's Mill, Ky. He was the third oldest son out of 13 children. His father, Samuel Creswell Gill (1783-1854) was the son of a Revolutionary War vet and had a vast amount of land in Bath Co., Ky.

Samuel Gill is an example of a rags to riches story. When he married his wife, he had nothing to his name. His only earthly possessions were one bay pony, a dollar in money and a featherbed. 

A map indicating the approximate location
of Gill's Mill near Owingsville

In true pioneer perseverance, this didn't stop Samuel. He and his wife, Sarah hopped on the back of their pony and moved to Bath Co., Ky. near Owingsville. Within a short amount of time, he had bought an expansive amount of land and built a mill that served in the area.

This is where their fourth child, Marcus was born. This large homestead included at least three slaves at one time.

Marcus was a natural leader even as a young man in Kentucky.  Early on, he developed a great interest in military affairs. When a militia was organized in his area, Marcus learned to use a musket and joined.  

He quickly raced to the top; he was the leader of this "fine old regiment" and marched as a colonel - a title he used his entire life.

In 1837, Marcus married 19 year-old Sarah Ann Bruton. By 1840, he had surpassed his father in the slave category and had four slaves.

Things moved quite quickly for Marcus; in 1841, his father opted to sell his expansive farm of 1,045 acres to his son for the bargain price of $10,000. 

Tri-Weekly Maysville Eagle newspaper clipping
April 2, 1846

Woh.

That equates to over $250,000 in today's money- quite the spread for a young man. 

Marcus must have been an industrious young fellow; in 1842 at the age of 28, he was appointed postmaster of Gill's Mill.

Tragedy hit Marcus and his little family in 1846 when his wife, Sarah died in childbirth. They had four children: Enoch (1839), Turner (1841), Leah (1843), and Sarah Ann (1846-1848).

Ten months later, Marcus married his wife's younger first cousin, Mary Jane Bruton Foster, a widow with two children. 

In fact, in stereotypical Southern fashion, Mary was actually double cousins with his first wife - sharing relations on both their mother and father's side.

Stories like these always take me aback- a man marrying his wife's cousin? But this was pretty standard during this time period. A man wasn't exactly expected - or equipped- to rear children.

With over 1,000 acres to care for, Marcus needed help. He continued to add to his chattel. By 1850, he owned 19 slaves ranging from 50 years old to seven months old.

Seven months old.

A rare slave record from October 1859 showing Marcus Gill purchasing "a negro woman Renetta" and her "child girl
9 months old." Courtesy of Missouri Valley Special Collections

You'd think that Marcus had it made- he had no reason to leave an area where he had such a deep connection and expansive land. But, alas, Marcus was a man of industrious tendencies.

Maybe Marcus felt as if it was time to venture out to a new land where he could get more bang for his buck.

He sold his farm and mill in Gill's Mill, Ky., which had doubled in value in the decade he owned it. Over $500,000 in today's money was tucked into his pocket as he pushed onto the next adventure.

Etching of a Kentucky flatboat on the Mississippi River

In March 1854, Marcus packed up and moved to Missouri. He constructed a large flat boat with covered decks. Piled high were his belongings, a year's worth of supplies, wagons, farming implements and between 20 to 25 slaves.  

Slave labor propelled the power to the boat while Marcus took the wheel.

At St. Louis, he employed a steamer to tow him up the mighty Missouri River and into the one year-old village of Kansas City. 

According to descendants of Marcus Gill, no soon after he docked, a suave gentleman approached Marcus and presented the opportunity to buy 115 acres of land in Kansas City- land that would be now part of the heart of the city.

Mary Jane Bruton-Gill, 
Marcus' second wife

It was up for the bargain price of $1500.

Marcus took this proposition as being utterly preposterous and even added to family that he came close to "spitting in the fellow's face."

This, of course, was a mistake that Marcus scrutinized over for years to come; the land would have been worth millions in just a few decades.

For $5,895 ($25 an acre), Marcus Gill bought from Dabney Lipscomb, founder of New Santa Fe, a large stretch of land in Washington Township. His farm butted up to the town to the south, following the curves of the Santa Fe Trail, stretched to 114th Street to the north, bordered Kansas Territory to the west, and went just past Wornall Rd. to the east.

He built a log home from the walnut trees on the land. The house was just south of Minor Dr. near present-day Summit St.

Two slave cabins steps away from what would be a free state to the west were built to shelter his 20+ slaves.

Another slave record showing Marcus Gill purchasing a "negro boy named Amaus" for $550.00 in Oct. 1859

I'd say that's tight quarters.
The Gill family by 1860 had expanded to include a total of eight children living. Susan (1848), Sally Ann (1852), William (1856), Mary (1859) and Louella (1860) joined the older three children from Marcus' first marriage. Two children, Henrietta (1848-1852) and Marcus, Jr. (1854-1857) passed away and were buried on the Gill farms in both Kentucky and Missouri.

Life along the Missouri-Kansas border was far from low-key. Years of the Border Wars in the 1850s had boisterous men such as Gill up in arms. He, along with many of his neighbors, were hellbent on hunkering down and staying on their land no matter the price.

June 19, 1855 newspaper article
From the Squatter Sovereign (Atchison, Ks.)

Keep in mind that Marcus was one of the largest slaveowners in Washington Township.

This should have made him a target.

He and many of his slaveholding neighbors participated in many pro-slavery conventions and fought tooth and nail to keep this institution alive and well. Col. Gill once again showcased his leadership skills and showed that he was not about to go down without a fight.

He considered slavery to be his right. Bleeding Kansas was steps away; Jayhawkers unjustly pushed onto neighboring lands with weapons in hand. Somehow, he managed to stay somewhat safe from their mayhem.

According to his granddaughter, "There were few of the lawless ruffians who dared to interfere with his affairs."

Ah, but Marcus was miraculously good at picking friends that could help him out in a pinch.

Who better to keep in your company than a man that would soon become a household name- a man feared by the free-soilers that settled into Kansas Territory?!

William Clark Quantrill was one of Marcus' allies at the heat of the impending war.

In fact, Quantrill- a teacher at the time- spent the winter of 1860 at Gill's New Santa Fe home. According to historians, Quantrill "became a great favorite" of the Gill family.

To be a border ruffian meant you were on the move. Quantrill couldn't quite stay squatting anywhere for long. But in his early ruffian days, when he was praised as being a "great shot," Quantrill's services were needed by none other than Col. Gill.

The relationship between Gill and Quantrill continued through 1861. Gill hired Quantrill to escort him to safer territory.

Liberty Tribune article from April 24, 1861

Col. Marcus Gill saw the writing on the wall. It was far from safe in New Santa Fe with the impending war. His most valuable movable chattel were in danger. He needed to get his slaves to safer country.

So to Texas Marcus went, leaving his beloved farm behind.

Col. Gill didn't go alone; 50 men, women and children (including neighbors) went along for the long trip to Texas.

A newspaper article published in the Cass County Democrat and republished in Liberty, Mo. magnifies the event of Gill leaving for calmer countryside.

The account was made to be an event of celebration- showing us today that the democratic pro-slavery views were especially common in eastern Missouri.

A little "negro boy" riding a donkey (alluded in the article to be related to Abraham Lincoln) carried a secession flag.

The biggest and loudest of the bunch was from an elderly slave, most likely belonging to Gill, who waved his hat toward the Confederate flag and shouted, "Hurrah for the Cotton States!"

Wow. Just wow.

This whole account makes my skin crawl and raises so many unanswered questions.

How on EARTH did these slaves proclaim they were FOR slavery?

It's hard to decipher what could have possibly be going through these unjustly held prisoners of slavery. So many- correction... MOST of the accounts of true viewpoints of slaves has been lost.

Most likely they wanted to forget what it was like to be chattel.

Regardless, Marcus made his way with wagons-full of family, slaves and belongings to Texas with Quantrill in tow.

Marcus' two oldest sons, Enoch and Turner, enlisted in the Confederacy. Enoch B. Gill, later a well-known attorney, enlisted in Waul's Texas Legion in 1862 and later in the Missouri Infantry. Enoch suffered the tyranny of war when he left a leg on the battlefield.

Turner Anderson Gill enlisted in the 6th Missouri Infantry and was wounded at the Battle of Corinth. He was held as a prisoner of war and later released. That didn't stop him; he then enlisted with Shelby and saw combat at the Battle of Westport.

Turner was mayor of Kansas City in 1875-1876.

The aftermath of the war was vividly clear to Col. Marcus Gill and his newly emancipated slaves.

He had the harshness of reality to face.

Before the war, he swept down to Texas with the best money could buy. He was worth a fortune pre-war, but as he returned to Jackson Co., Mo. in 1865, he was a completely different man...

A Confederate note for $1,000

... With a different caravan.

He had traveled to Texas as a true Southern gentleman but returned with little more than a pair of Mexican ponies harnessed with raw hide.

That was it.

One of the iron yoke used on this humble return journey is still in the possession of his descendants.

The Confederate bonds that Marcus had invested heavily in were now worthless.

I can only imagine the return journey was much quieter than his departure.

Regardless of the harsh realities and financial ruin Marcus faced, he showed his true pioneer mentality- the same mentality that guided him as a young man- and pushed to restore whatever he had left on the border in Jackson Co.

Atchison Daily Champion article from
April 28, 1876 showcasing the
"showdown" between Enoch Gill &
Jesse Noland

When he returned, he found that his house was standing but all of his movable possessions had been stolen. His fencing surrounding his large acreage had been torn down.

He had work to do, and work he did.

In August 1871, an accident where his ankle was crushed by a Texas longhorn had him never the same.

By 1884, enough was enough. The ankle injury to 70 year-old Gill had him in constant pain. He and his wife decided that the mineral springs in Plattsburg, Clinton Co., Mo. would benefit Marcus and his pain.

Instead of selling the beloved farm he had fought for, Marcus opted to gift his land to his children. The main house that he had built was gifted along with 90 acres to his daughter, Susan Bruton Gill McGee (1848-1901). She was the second oldest of Gill's daughters.

Everyone was given land except for his oldest daughter, Leah.

Geesh. What did she do to leave her out of a pretty large inheritance?!

Well... that's a wee bit complicated...

A newspaper article in 1876 sheds some light on the situation. Leah's husband, Jesse Noland, had received some property from Marcus Gill before his jaunt to Texas. Marcus had been indicted for forgery but believed that the charge was due to the actions of his son-in-law, Jesse.

Col. Gill believed the forgery was his son-in-law's doing, but allegedly Jesse was going to let him take the fall for it.

On the public square in Independence, a true "showdown" occurred between Marcus' son, Enoch B. Gill and Jesse Noland.

Pistols were drawn but Enoch had the upper hand. Before he could fire, the marshal intervened and both were arrested- but not before Jesse struck Enoch with "a serious blow" to the face.

1894 four-generation family portrait
(L-R) Mrs. Marcus Gill, Susan Celeste Nelson,
 Susan McGee & Nellie Gill McGee Nelson

Reminder: Enoch lost a leg in the war.

I guess that didn't stop him!

This event and the charges mentioned may be why Marcus decided Leah didn't get the property where the house stood - or any property at all.

Leah later divorced Jesse, but the damage had been done.

The house went to Susan McGee, second oldest daughter and wife to Allen B.H. McGee (1815-1903). Col. McGee was the son of one of the first fourteen original landowners in Kansas City.

During this time, 119th St. in Kansas from Nall Ave. to State Line, which now changes into Minor Dr. in Missouri, was called Gill Road. The road led directly to the Gill homestead that Susan now owned with her husband.

A.B.H. McGee was only two years younger than his wife's father, Marcus.
Creepy.

They married in 1869 at her father's home. In fact, each of the Gill daughters were married in front of the original fireplace that adorned the front parlor at the homestead.

Plattsburg's pleasant, healing waters weren't enough to save Col. Marcus Gill from the end. On Dec. 9th, 1886, he passed away from a bacterial infection and blood poisoning from his fatal yet old wound from 1871.

A.B.H. McGee I, Susan Gill McGee's husband

Marcus' widow passed away eight years later.


Susan and her husband lived a happy marriage and maintained the well-manicured Gill farm until her death. Her only son, A.B.H. McGee II inherited the property.

The house was greatly enlarged and further improved in the early to mid 1900s, making it one of the largest and well-respected old homesteads in Washington Township. The house became known as the Gill-McGee house, or oftentimes just the McGee house.

The 20-room home was continuously occupied by the family until 1959. At this point, development had driven sales in the south Kansas City area. J.C. Nichols and other large real estate companies were buying up land and platting subdivisions.

J.C. Nichols had purchased the Gill-McGee property. Not an organization ready to turn down the chance to make a dime, they rented the old home and the land.

A rare aerial shot of the Gill-McGee home taken about 1955. The home is visible in the top right-hand side. A carriage
house and multiple barns were part of the expansive property. A lake is seen in the top of the photograph along with a dam.
The lake and land surrounding it (13 acres) comprises Migliazzo Park today.
Courtesy of the McGee Family

By the early 1960s, streets were being paved.

As Santa Fe Trail was partially rerouted and the streets were beginning to resurrect on the once-picturesque landscape of Marcus Gill's land, the chances of the house being saved were plummeting. The 100+ year-old homestead had engineers on the prowl.

The house had become somewhat unkempt by the 1970s; regular maintenance by J.C. Nichols was not a priority. As Verona Hills subdivision blossomed on the nearby land, time was running out to preserve the property.

Planned street map for Verona Hills, circa 1965
State Historical Society of Missouri

Even the newly-formed Historical Society of New Santa Fe was trying to find the funds to see if the house could be moved in order to be saved.

Efforts by concerned residents such as Doug Harding, a UMKC student and historian who resided in the 1970s at the Gill-McGee farmstead, went unanswered. There were even proposals, including the South Development Area Plan that had Martha Truman Dr. passing through Verona Hills to State Line Rd.

So why couldn't the Gill-McGee historic farmstead be an attraction near this road?

In Harding's "Study of Verona Hills," where he proposed the farmstead be restored, he wrote, "If J.C. Nichols [is] a pioneer in urban and suburban development, why not continue that noble tradition?"

This is not what happened.

Janice Bugler Reeves lived from 1969 until 1977 with Doug Harding and others at the Gill-McGee house. She has fond memories of this diamond in the rough hidden amongst the trees off Minor Dr.

A drawing by Janice Bugler Reeves of the Gill-McGee Farm

This was in the heart of the 1970s; several people at this time called the Gill-McGee house their home and were extremely proud of its provenance.

Janice fondly recalled, "I am so grateful I was able to be a part of the house- that I was able to live in a place with historical meaning and background."

Features of the oldest part of the home- a part these young tenants knew had history- included walnut hardwood floors with square wooden nails holding the sturdy structure into place.

The fireplace where all of Marcus Gill's daughters were married was in the smallest of the rooms that Janice remembers.

Reminder: these young kids knew the history of the home. And they embraced it.

Janice and friends gathered at a 4th of July barbeque at the
Gill-McGee House in 1976

An addition, most likely added by A.B.H. McGee II in the early 1900s included imported French toilets, a bidet, two ballrooms- one upstairs and one down in the basement, three fireplaces and a Turkish bath.

Yes. A Turkish bath.
This place was stylin' in its day!

If these young 20-something borderline hippies knew that the Gill-McGee house was historical, how did the owner, J.C. Nichols not?

Well, that was J.C. Nichols' claim.

According to Janice, J.C. Nichols was willing to sell the house....

For $20,000.

That was a steep price for a house that desperately needed restoration.

J.C. Nichols had made their suburban plans for mass settlement, and it did not include the historic Gill home.

This dramatic photo featured in the Kansas City Star shows how construction halted when demolition began.
The oldest section of the house is visible on the right-hand side.

In 1978, just shy of 125 years after Col. Marcus Gill constructed a log cabin, Janice and her friends' lease wasn't renewed and bulldozers began the demolition of the historic home.

I'm getting really tired of writing "bulldozed" in my blog posts.

. . . I digress.

One of the historic barns burned in a fire prior to the
destruction of the home. Minor Dr. can be seen in
the background.

As destruction of the Gill-McGee farmhouse continued, it became clear that the "old" farmhouse was older than they had originally thought. As the demo crew dismantled the home, walnut logs were exposed.

Demolition stopped immediately and a phone call to J.C. Nichols was made.

Moe Courville, a J.C. Nichols employee and an owner of one of the first homes built in Verona Hills, received the phone call at the Plaza office.

He immediately went to the site to see what was up.

Almost 40 years later, Moe vividly remembers the scene. "Exposed was a three-room log cabin with hand hewn walnut timbers."

Moe remembers vividly that construction stopped for months in order to decipher what to do with this property.

The oldest part of the home with the log cabin hidden underneath

A decision was made. J.C. Nichols donated the home to Jackson County Parks and Recreation. According to an article published in the Kansas City Star, the oldest section, built by Marcus Gill and visited by Quantrill in the winter of 1860, was to be moved to Lake Jacomo.

By Lake Jacomo, they mean the future sight of Missouri Town.

But this historic structure didn't get its happy ending- or so it appears.

The Gill-McGee farmstead - the oldest part of it- was to be repurposed as a mill at Missouri Town according to the Kansas City Star.

Yes, a mill.

Maybe they could have aptly named it "Gill's Mill."

What truly happened after this is a mystery in and of itself. Janice Bugler Reeves visited the site with friends after they had moved to see what was discovered underneath the walls.

With her friends in tow, they took off to visit their beloved residence one last time so they could check out the original log cabin that had been neatly hidden underneath plaster.

Janice Bugler Reeves and friends went back to the house to see the log cabin exposed. This is the original front
entrance of the home and shows the hand-hewn logs. At the top, the partial remains of the rest of the house
are visible, including the chimney from a later addition.

Even now, the emotional connection that Janice feels for this farmhouse is evident. "I was damn lucky to live there, and I got to share it with so many people along the way."

The old timbers were hauled away, and from what Janice heard later, they were destroyed by a fire in a warehouse.

Seriously.

Here's what I do know: there is no mill at Missouri Town.

Jackson County Parks and Recreation believes that the logs were donated to Missouri Town and may have been used to fill in logs where needed within its multiple buildings.

I can only hope this is the case and fire didn't consume the logs.

The Marcus Gill farmstead was lifted away in pieces, but not before some of the lucky few took some memorabilia from the property.

Janice grabbed some old hooks from a closet in her bedroom. Doug Harding snuck away with the mantlepiece from the newer section that had the verse, "A world of strife shut out, A world of love shut in" carefully painted by one of Marcus Gill's relatives.

And even Moe Courville felt a connection and gathered a few square nails to take home with him.

See, that house had something special about it.

Sometime later when grading was completed and roads were constructed, the stone wall that neatly surrounded the farmstead was erased from the landscape.
That stone wall, as several documents explain, was built by Marcus Gill's slaves.

Marcus Gill Farm monument at
Migliazzo Park (119th & Pennsylvania)

And so more history was hauled away in the dumpsters.

The only land that remains largely untouched from Marcus Gill's frontier farm next to the Santa Fe Trail is at Migliazzo Park.

Yes, Migliazzo Park, named after a commissioner of KC Parks and Recreation.

But all of these decisions, however controversial, didn't stop some of Gill's descendants from making sure Marcus' name didn't go completely erased.

Byron Shutz gifted a monument to the K.C. Parks Board in honor of his great-great grandfather, Col. Marcus Gill. Thus, visitors to Migliazzo Park can learn a little about this incredibly zealous pioneer.

Local residents around the Verona Hills area may not know much about the land, but some have actually heard of Marcus Gill.

And here I am today, wishing that I could change the past- that I had the ability to erase the destruction of the Gill-McGee house.

That's a little hypocritical of me, honestly.

We can't erase the past, even with bulldozers. But we certainly can be mindful of what is going on around us- so that we don't make these same mistakes.

An antebellum Kansas City home which stood at the outbreak of the Border Wars, hosted Quantrill, miraculously survived the Civil War unscathed, housed a future mayor, and became millionaire A.B.H. McGee's pride and joy was cast away into the endless sea of trashed landmarks.

Today, we must work to preserve, learn and treasure the homes that can be saved. And just like the painted mantlepiece that was salvaged from the clearing of the Gill-McGee house, we can look upon the now-altered landscape and imagine a sturdy house that was definitely more than just a home.

It was a treasure.

Home

By: Dora Greenwell

(1821-1882)

Two birds within one nest;
Two hearts within one breast;
Two spirits in one fair,
Firm league of love and prayer, 
Together bound for aye, together blest.

An ear that waits to catch
A hand upon the latch;
A step that hastens its sweet rest to win;
A world of care without,
A world of strife shut out,
A world of love shut in.

The fireplace at the Gill-McGee homestead showcasing
the verse on the mantlepiece

The Gill McGee Farm 1854-1978

The back side of the Gill-McGee house shows how the home was in need of maintenance. Janice recalled that
they had to paint the front of the house themselves.

Hand-drawn map by Janice Bugler Reeves showing the locations of buildings during her stay
at the Gill-McGee Farm from 1969-1978

*A special thanks to Janice Bugler Reeves and Moe Courville for being open to discussing their memories. Photos of the Gill-McGee house were all provided by Janice Bugler Reeves.