First Robbery, Then Murder: Martin City's Bank the Scene of Heists in the 20s

Martin City, once a small town in southern Jackson County that was annexed to Kansas City in 1963,  was founded in 1887 due to its location to the railroads. Anyone who has been through this small nest egg of early 20th century charm knows all about those railroad tracks that cross in three different places, oftentimes stalling our progress to our next destination. But those railroad tracks are the very reason that the area was settled. By the turn of the century, businesses moved in to take advantage of what could be a bustling little town.

Martin City, circa 1906

One of the most important advancements for a town was the establishment of a bank so that their finances and their transactions could stay local. In September 1909, residents pooled their money and opened the Martin City State Bank. They held a capital stock of $10,000 and erected a building at current-day 510 E. 135th St.

Adding the Martin City Bank was a central piece to the business district and to the growth of a town. However, banks also were magnets for criminals looking for some quick cash. The little bank in Martin City was host to three bank robberies early in its history that tell an interesting story of early 20th century criminal activity. . . and all involve an unsuspecting cashier named Samuel J. Roberts.

A Cool and Deliberate Criminal

On April 26, 1920, a young man wearing a fashionable blue suit, flannel shirt and hat casually walked into the Martin City State Bank around 1:00pm. 30 year-old Sam Roberts (1890-1960), a well-known resident of Martin City who was reared in Belton, was the cashier at the bank. Alone and busy when the young man entered, Sam glanced up and saw a pistol pointed directly at him.

Martin City State Bank, cir. 1920. Photo courtesy of the Klapmeyer family

“Stick em’ up!” the robber yelled.

Seriously. That’s what he said.

Sam Roberts told the Kansas City Star, “He drew a revolver and demanded money. He took only currency, and then locked me in the vault.”  

The robber jumped over a three foot railing separating them and jammed the pistol into the cashier’s stomach. The bandit screamed for the cashier to lock the front door. The robber took $1000, locked Sam into the vault and escaped through the back door. On the edge of town, the criminal asked Albert Phillips, a driver of a farm wagon, for a ride. The unsuspecting farmer casually carted him a half mile west and sent the young man on his way.

Sam Roberts was able to escape the bank vault by prying the door open with a screwdriver kept inside. Authorities were immediately alerted, and Sam described the man as being about 30 years old, 5’9” tall and about 165 pounds. His demeanor, according to Sam, was “cool and deliberate.”

News spread through the little town like wildfire, and area residents gathered to take in the latest gossip. William Simpson, a farmer near the hamlet, said he saw a man matching Sam’s description at a Missouri Pacific train leaving in Kansas City.

Spring Hill, Ks., courtesy of Miami Co. Historical Museum

Bennett Rector, president of the Martin City Bank, stood nearby and relayed that he had seen the bandit from across the street. Unfortunately, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and went about his business.

Johnnie Lawson saw the criminal loafing around outside his business on Main St. within an eyeshot of the bank, and County Marshal Harvey Hoffman believed that the bank robber was likely hiding in Kansas City.

As it turned out, no one knew much of anything.

An arrest of this cool criminal wasn’t immediate. About five weeks later on June 9th, the bank at Spring Hill, Ks. was being cased. A gentleman in “an expensive brown suit” was seen lurking outside the bank around noon that day. Two hours later, he made his swift move. The story was eerily similar; a man entered the bank and produced a pistol from his pocket. He held up the cashier and an assistant, forcing them into the bank’s vault in the back. He was able to score around $1000.

But Spring Hill’s bank was a little more prepared than Martin City. A $5,000 standing reward sponsored by the Kansas Bankers Association for the capture of bank robbers had citizens ready for a financial windfall. When the alarm sounded and alerted quick-drawing citizens to the call, the robber, stunned, escaped from the back and ran down the road. A posse from the Anti-Horse Thief Association was hot on his tracks, following him to the edge of town.

He ran a half mile from the scene of the crime with citizens seconds behind him. He approached a Studebaker driven by an unsuspecting resident and tried to hijack the car.

As the robber realized he couldn’t successfully steal the car, he threw himself in a ditch and aimed his gun toward the mob chasing him, narrowly missing Ralph Hines. Ralph fired a warning shot into the air; the bandit tried to seek shelter in a muddy corn field. He turned around one last time and took aim at Ralph Hines.  One bullet from Hines’s gun allegedly traveled 125 yards, hit the robber square in the heart and killed him.

When the posse approached the body, they found he had one gun in his hand, and in his pocket were 50 cartridges and another gun fully loaded. Under his brown suit, he had layered himself in additional clothing, including a blue suit and overalls so he could make a quick costume change.

The robber was 27 year-old Alfred Gantert. He was positively identified by Sam Roberts, the cashier, John Lawson, storekeeper and Jim Phillips, farmer as the man who robbed the Martin City State Bank. Gantert’s mother, Susan was a well-respected citizen living in Olathe; her husband, allegedly a “drunk,”  had left her years earlier with young children to raise. As a child, Alfred served four months in county jail for going to the Bonita School while class was in session and throwing a brick through one of the windows.

Olathe Mirror

The sheriff traveled to South Keeler St. in Olathe to deliver the news in person to Alfred’s mother, Susan. She reported that Alfred “had been wayward and wild recently.” Grief-stricken and shaky, she exclaimed, “He hasn’t been home in years, and he never treated me as he should!”  

With tears in her eyes, she asked to see her son. The sheriff drove her to see the body. It was reported that she “did not show the emotion which one would have thought under the circumstances.”

It appears Susan had run out of patience and pity. As she turned away from her son’s corpse, she said, “I wash my hands of him. He always did take after his father.” His mother refused to take control of his remains and walked away.

Ironically, the field where Alfred had been killed was steps away from where he had lived as a child. Because his mother would not take his body, Alfred was buried with no headstone in Spring Hill Cemetery in the pauper’s section where he rests unmarked today.

The Time Doesn’t Fit These Crimes

Sam Roberts

On June 7th1924, Sam Roberts was busy yet again at the Martin City State Bank as he conducted his regular duties. Two young men wearing dark glasses, caps and dark clothing stormed into the bank and met Sam at the cage. They forced Sam into the back room, tied him up and laid him face-down on the floor as they gathered $1700 in cash and change from the bank vault.

A third man waited in the driver’s seat of a flashy Cadillac stolen two days earlier at 60th and Brookside Blvd. As the two men inside rushed out to the car, they drew attention to themselves when they dropped a large amount of change on the ground. Locals watched suspiciously as the Cadillac sped off northbound. The Cadillac was abandoned in Dallas, Mo. (103rd and State Line)  and the three robbers escaped.

A woman entering the bank to do business found Sam Roberts bound in the back and released him.

Less than a month later on July 3rd, two men were charged with the robbery at Martin City after they had been spending frivolously in Kansas City. 28 year-old Theodore A. Russell and  34-year-old Clifford Dunford were held on $5000 bonds.

Both men had police records that tell quite an interesting story of repeat offenders of the era.

Topeka Daily Capital, July 10, 1915

Theodore A. Russell had been arrested for robbery and grand larceny in March 1921 of a drug store at 67th and Swope Pkwy. He was found drunk on either “perfume or spirits” nearby where he denied his involvement in the crime- even though he was found with money from the robbery on him. Theo was able to disappear without a trace; he didn't appear at his criminal court hearing. In June, he was found and charged with the crime. He served a whopping 14 months in the penitentiary until he was discharged in Sept. 1923- less than one year before he was charged for the robbery of the bank in Martin City.

His accomplice, Clifford Dunford (1890-1960), had an even longer rap sheet. On Dec. 11th, 1914, Cliff was engaged in a “quarrel over a girl” with 39-year-old druggist Thomas O. McCarty at a cafe at 303 W. 8th St. Thomas was struck over the head with a board used to hold the front door shut and died 13 days later on Christmas Eve. Cliff miraculously escaped prosecution, and in the meantime, he was shot through the foot in July 1916. The police found him in St. Mary’s Hospital and arrested him for the murder of McCarty.

Albert Dunford, Cliff's brother

In Feb. 1916, Cliff answered to the crime and was given two years in the state penitentiary for the murder (plead down to 4th degree manslaughter) of McCarty. He was discharged in August 1917, and to no surprise, was back at his old ways.

In August 1921, he was charged with second degree murder for shooting 23-year-old Arthur Hultzen in the stomach and killing him at a rooming house - a rooming house that Cliff was running.

Sentences continued to be short or not even given; I can find no record that Cliff ever served time for murder. The same goes for his involvement in the robbery of the bank in Martin City.

Crime seemed to run in Cliff’s family. Originally from the Topeka area, Clifford seems to have been one of the luckier of his siblings. His brother James served a long sentence in the Kansas Pen for killing a streetcar conductor; his brother Dennis was killed in a fight over a woman; and his brother, Albert, shot his sister in a fit of rage and then committed suicide in 1914 “after a wild night with a woman that was not his wife."

Cliff seemed to calm down a bit after the robbery in Martin City. . . minus being arrested multiple times in Kansas City for bootlegging during Prohibition. Cliff died of malnutrition at the age of 69 in 1960.

Robbery, Kidnapping, Murder… and Insanity

1913 wedding photo of Sam Roberts and wife, Mary
Photo courtesy of Jay Roberts 

On February 12, 1925, 32 year-old Charles Stultz was busy working as a mechanic in his garage on the Martin City-Olathe road (135th St.) just a few doors down from Martin City State Bank. Also the deputy sheriff in town, Stultz moved toward the ringing phone and picked the receiver up.

“This is Mr. Roberts,” the voice on the other end said, “I’ve been kidnapped by bandits who robbed the bank. They dumped me out of their car here in Kansas City. I wish you to go over and lock up the bank then come and get me.”

Stultz knew the man who called him as Sam Roberts, longtime cashier of the Martin City State Bank.

Earlier that same day, a man who drove for a local car service was summoned to 20th and Grand Ave. to pick up some passengers. When he arrived, two men got in the car, held him up and forced him to drive them to 48th and Troost Ave. to pick up two more men so they could drive south to a little town called Martin City.

Kansas City Star, Aug. 7, 1925

Sam had been alone in the bank when two men pointed a gun at him and told him to throw his hands in the air. Two other conspirators waited in the Cadillac with the terrified driver. They stole $1200 from the bank.

Instead of leaving the cashier behind, the robbers kidnapped Sam, forced him into the car and shoved him to the floor as they sped off toward Kansas City. At 57th and Euclid, the criminals pushed Sam Roberts and the kidnapped driver out of the car and sped away.

Just two days later, 19 year-old Arthur Schofield confessed to being one of the bank robbers in Martin City and also of being part of a holdup at a drug store in Kansas City, Ks. where they kidnapped a man for use of his Studebaker. Arthur was suspected because he was “spending money freely and riding around in taxicabs.”

Arthur had already served time in Boonville for a robbery of a grocery store in 1923..

By August, Wilbur Schofield, Arthur’s 21 year-old brother, confessed to his involvement in the bank robbery. He stated he had a good job at the time but Art had laughed at “his slowness.” He explained that his brother called him up and told him he had an easy opportunity to make some cash if he would just drive a car to Martin City.

After Arthur was arrested, Wilbur ran away and went to small towns in Illinois and returned a few months later using the alias “William Kearns.”

Wilbur thought people wouldn’t recognize him, but in a short time, he was spotted on the streets of Kansas City. He signed a confession and made statements that revealed others involved.

One of the men that Wilbur Schofield stated was involved was a man he was introduced to as Ed Fuller. And, boy, did this Ed Fuller have a quick demise.

Just three months after the robbery in Martin City, Ed Fuller met his end.

On May 23rd, 1925, a 60 year-old woman named Christine Muder, the wife of “old time saloon man” Fritz Muder, was waiting for a streetcar in front of the Kansas City Power and Light offices. With her was a “negro guard” named Jesse Moore. Christine had just gone to the bank for their business and had $4500 in cash on her.

Wearing all black and clutching onto a brown bag full of cash, Mrs. Muder stood in the crowd at the 15th and Grand streetcar stop. A man stepped up to the side of her, held onto her arm and said, “Come with me. I’ve got a rod.” He pulled back his coat and revealed a revolver tucked into his belt.

Mrs. Muder screamed loudly, alerting her guard, Jesse. The robber ran toward an awaiting 7-passenger Buick touring car, but his escape was short-lived. “Negro guard” Jesse Moore drew out a gun and shot twice at the fleeing man, hitting him once in the chest.

The Buick, with two men inside, kept moving as the bandit tried grabbing a hold of the vehicle to get inside. His strength was weakened from the shot in the chest, and he was unable to hold on. Moore continued to pursue him and shot him a third time, hitting him again in the chest.

Mrs. Christine Muder, pictured above along with the crowd that gathered around the slain robber
Kansas City Star, May 25, 1925

When asked about his harrowing act of bravery, Mr. Jesse Moore smoked his corn cob pipe and casually stated, “I just beat him to the draw, that’s all.”

Jesse Moore “learned to be a crackshot while in the army” in World War I. Mr. Fritz Muder awarded him with $250 and other donations of admiring citizens were given to the hero. In fact, United Cemeteries Companies wanted to show their “thanks” and set aside a family burial plot in “the new Blue Ridge Lawn Cemetery,” which was “exclusively for negroes.”

Wow, what an interesting choice for a gift of appreciation.

The man Jesse Moore shot laid dead on the ground as hundreds of busy Kansas Citians crowded around his body.

Believe it or not, the body was on public display at the coroner’s office after the robbery-gone-wrong, and hundreds of Kansas Citians went by for a chance to file past the corpse and see the man for themselves. They had hoped to get a positive ID of the unidentified robber, but no one came forward with his name.

Kansas City Star, August 7, 1925

One of those that filed past the body was none other than Wilbur Schofield. He recognized him as one of the other man who held up the bank in Martin City. This display supposedly freaked Wilbur out so much that he swore he’d leave “banditry” and “go back to repairing motor cars for a living.”

Wilbur was given five years in prison and his brother, Arthur served part of his sentence.  Art was back on the streets and back at his old ways when he robbed a bank with two others in Odessa, Mo.

For the most part, Wilbur did keep his nose clean. . .  except for another little stint in the state pen in 1935 after he stole $400 from the garage where he worked.

Old habits die hard.

Arthur Schofield (1907-1980) had a record a mile long- after the robbery in Martin City, he was arrested under the alias Edward Diadore. In 1928, Arthur was arrested in Lexington, Mo. for burglary. While awaiting sentencing, he escaped custody. In May 1929, Arthur was arrested in St. Louis, Mo. for auto theft and carrying a concealed weapon.

Because he had stolen the car in Gillespie, Ill. and had taken the car across state lines, he was charged in federal court under the Dyer Act (enacted in 1919 to curb motor vehicle theft and making it a federal crime). He was sentenced to two years in Leavenworth on June 8th, 1929.

Arthur Schofield's original penitentiary file is located at the National Archives, Kansas City

It didn’t take long to raise alarm bells at Leavenworth. Arthur’s irrational behavior had doctors at the penitentiary on high alert.

Almost immediately, he was under the observation of Dr. B. Landis Elliott, attending psychiatrist and Dr. C.A. Bennett, prison physician. They noted that on July 24th, Arthur was “highly nervous and irrational.”

In fact, he imagined that “someone stole his aeroplane” and complained of pains in his head.

By November, they noted in his official penitentiary file that Arthur appeared completely “normal,” but when they would mention his aeroplane, “he flares up and becomes irritable and excited. He is a little sullen in his demeanor” and “has delusional ideas, and has attacks of anger and crying at times.”

This odd behavior led to an official diagnosis of “psychosis with constitutional psychopathic inferiority,” and they recommended immediate transfer to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Washington, D.C.

Oh, and the medical treatment he received during this time was “rest, tonic, and diet.”

On November 27th, 1929, his transfer was granted by the Department of the Interior.

Unfortunately, we aren’t quite finished with Arthur. It appears he was released from psychiatric care and returned to his hometown of Kansas City.

It doesn’t take a genius to predict that he wasn’t going to keep his nose clean.

L-R: Arthur Schofield, Jack Babcock, and William Wiley's mugshots. Courtesy Moberly Monitor-Index Apr. 2, 1948

Arthur Schofield gathered together with a group of Kansas City criminals to organize a heist.

Accompanied by Jack Babcock, 23, and William Wiley, Jack’s brother-in-law, 33, Arthur arranged to drive to a filling station south of Moberly, Mo. where a dice game was reported to be happening the night of Dec. 7th, 1948. By 8:30 pm, the men drove from Kansas City to the site of the gambling with hopes of hitting the jackpot. They were informed that over $10,000 would be up for the taking.

Roy Eubanks, 40, and seven others gathered in the back with a deck of cards at hand. In a sworn statement, Jack Babcock admitted he guarded one of the three doors of the filling station with a shotgun while the other men entered.

Without much explanation, Arthur Schofield fired a .45 calibre pistol into Roy Eubanks’ left shoulder.

Roy Eubanks & wife
Printed in Moberly Monitor-Index

Schofield, Babcock and Wiley fled the filling station to the awaiting car driven by Herman Robinson, 39. They sped away, only stopping to let Arthur drop the gun used in a river along the way. They arrived at Arthur’s cabin in Kansas City, Ks. at 4 am and counted the $400 they got away with.

Roy died the next day at 10:25 am from the wound inflicted by Arthur’s gun.

It took five months of searching to track down the criminals. On April 2nd, 1948, the Moberly Monitor-Index reported that first degree murder charges were filed against three Kansas City men: Arthur Schofield, Jack Babcock and William Wiley. The driver of the getaway car, Herman Robinson, was charged a few days later.

The outcome of this is disturbing.

Both Babcock and Wiley were found guilty of first degree murder and sentenced to life terms. The driver was sentenced to manslaughter and served one year.

Moberly Monitor-Index, Aug. 8, 1964

Arthur, the man who fired the gun that killed Roy Eubanks, was put under psychiatric observation in Springfield, Mo. and avoided prosecution for years. In 1956, eight years after the murder, a jury in Callaway Co. found him not guilty by reason of insanity. He was placed in State Hospital Number 1 in Fulton, Mo.

His diagnosis in 1954 was that he was suffering from dementia praecox, commonly known today as schizophrenia.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, Arthur “walked away” from the state mental hospital in Fulton, Mo. on August 5th, 1964 and authorities continued to look for him with no success.

Yes, he got away.

He died in 1980 in Joliet, Ill., the same town where his brother Wilbur lived.

Martin City Bank Stands As a Landmark Today

After years as the center of financial transactions in Martin City, the bank folded after the Great Depression damaged its assets. By 1940, the bank building was a business known as “Kelly Mercantile Co.,” complete with groceries and beverages at “cut-rate prices.”

Martin City Bank today, courtesy of Heartland KC

Today, people in Martin City can visit the site of several bank robberies and imagine these various men of criminal means walking up to the doors with hopes of a financial windfall. I can’t help but to think about how lucky Sam Roberts was to have survived three heists where men that callously murdered people pointed guns right at his face.

Sam was one lucky guy.

The Martin City Bank is one of the sole survivors of the old town, and it still stands as a reminder of Martin City’s colorful past. It is now the home of Fezziwig’s and Heartland KC and is open for business.

… just not the banking business.

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Early Kansas City Was Influenced By Four McGee Brothers

Rambunctious. Self-driven. Passionate. Enterprising. Pro-slavery. These are just a selection of words that could be easily used to describe the temperaments of the McGee boys, sons of James H. McGee and his wife, Eleanor, that were present when the City of Kansas was yet established and were instrumental in various ways in the growth of a city.

In June, I wrote about the oldest son, Allen Burr Harrison (A.B.H.) McGee and his remarkable legacy (to read the story, click here!). While researching Allen, I was blown away by the amount of documents that mentioned more than just this man. He was the oldest of six boys and each of them led lives that undoubtedly tell the early history of this city – and of the nation.

Illustration published in the Kansas City Star in 1935 depicting
the Town Company meeting in One Eyed Ellis's cabin

It became clear then that I needed to devote more time to the McGees of Kansas City. Through thousands of pages of documents, there was a complicated yet fascinating historical drama unfolding in front of my very eyes.

Let’s examine the lives of these early Kansas Citians.

Fry P. McGee (1816-1861) – The Man With a 110-Mile Mission

Out of all of the McGee boys, no man’s character is more debated than that of Fry McGee. Labeled as vicious by some and kind by others, Fry functioned under two separate umbrellas, most likely due to his extreme political views and his willingness to sacrifice everything for them.

Bearing his mother’s surname as a first name, Fry McGee was born in Nelson Co., Ky. on May 27, 1816 and moved to Missouri with his family in 1827. In July 1838, at the age of 21, Fry was present at the first sale of what would be the future site of Kansas City (to read more about this early event, click here!).  When that sale fell through and new sale was “cried” on November 14^th, 1838, Fry joined thirteen other historic figures of KC history to form the Town Company in order to purchase this valuable riverfront land and bank on its ability to hold a booming city.

George C. Bingham portrait of Fry P. McGee

At the cabin of One-Eyed Ellis, twenty to thirty men gathered under the cover of hand-hewn logs to witness an extraordinary event that was just another cold day to these early Jackson Co. pioneers. As John C. McCoy reported, “We retired for warmth to the log house of One-Eyed Ellis and gathered before a fireplace of blazing hickory logs and christened the yet unborn baby of a city that was to be there.”

I sure wish we could find more about this illusive One-Eyed Ellis, because he surely has a story worth writing.

After the purchase of the land was complete, Fry McGee passed a motion that lots yet to be platted would be sold on credit for six or twelve months- without requiring security of the purchasers. Setting the terms so loosely would likely help the lots sell quicker – especially considering there was a large bluff blocking the new town from the site of Westport Landing.

Lots were taken up quickly as the levee below along the Missouri River’s banks was established to encourage commerce and trade in the foundling settlement. And Fry P. McGee was a pivotal proponent of this early birth of a city.

Less than a year later, Fry married Martha E. Boothe and purchased 160 acres of land that included the area around 19^th and Main. He burned brick on his own land, a trade learned from his father who had established the first brick house in the area, and erected a home in 1841.

James H. McGee's home, the first brick house in all
of Kansas City

In 1848, he established his homestead at what would become 513 E. 4^th St. In 1844, a flood had wiped out buildings on the south bank of the Missouri River. This red brick house was one of the first to be built on land safely above any future flooding. The home was of sturdy construction; the interior and exterior walls were of brick, and originally, the home had a carefully carved staircase made of walnut.

More on this home in a second.

For several years, farming seemed to be the focus of Fry McGee. The draw of the western-bound wagon trains captivated him, so he packed up and headed out for greener pastures. Although his time in Oregon was short-lived and he did return to Jackson Co., Fry’s willingness to settle into the wilderness was something that was repeated.

Fry P. McGee's homestead at 513 E. 4th St. in
the Kansas City Star 

On a return trip from the west, Fry and his brother, Mobillion could see the opportunity that existed not too far from Jackson Co., Mo. In August 1854, just months after Kansas was opened up to white settlement, Fry and his brother purchased property at a crossing on the Santa Fe Trail. Known as 110-Mile Creek, their new land was named for its distance of 110 miles from Fort Osage, Mo.

Fry built a horse and mule barn with walls two feet thick. He then built a tavern, aptly known as McGee’s Tavern, on the site near current-day US 75 and US 76 highways in Osage Co., Ks. A four room home featured two large fireplaces on each side. The east room was supposedly used to house travelers looking for quick drink and a warm place to stay. Another room was used for Fry’s three daughters, America, Sophia and Anne. The room on the west side was reserved for Fry and his wife.

To be clear, Fry owned five slaves in 1850. When he came into Kansas Territory in 1854, he had three slaves helping with the daily activities.

When they chose this location, there were very few white settlers- just a few white men who had married Shawnee women. They were literally on the edge of the frontier and fashioned to, if Fry could have his way, form a new town called Washington on this land.

Building a bridge over 110-Mile Creek made sense for the enterprising McGees. Instead of risking losing a wagon wheel or flooding after the rains, travelers on the Santa Fe Trail could pay for access to “McGee’s Crossing.” According to records, Fry charged 25 cents at McGee’s Crossing toll bridge and would clear during high months around $30 per day.

Illustration of Fry McGee's homestead in Osage County, Ks. on 110 Mile Creek, commonly referred to as McGee's Tavern

Of course, Fry knew his tavern and toll bridge would also be benefitted from a general merchandise store to help these travelers with any goods they may need. He also was known to sell whiskey to thirsty Native Americans that remained nearby.

Due to Fry’s pro-slavery ways, no abolitionist dare settle near 110-Mile Creek and suffer the wrath. C.R. Green, historian in Osage Osage Co., wrote of Fry after his death but when his wife was still alive. “A rough exterior, a slave owner, and quite partisan in politics, the early settlers found him to be kind-hearted, honest, and never known to shed blood.”

Remnants of a barn at 110 Mile Creek, built
cir. 1860. Courtesy of Kansas Historical Society

Others weren’t so kind to Fry. James W. Winchell wrote “Experiences in Kansas Territory, 1854-1855” and described the McGees as “Intemperate, quarrelsome, and abusive. Fry McGee was the most drunken, profane and honest of the lot, having come to Kansas to live and liberally cursing and feeding all Yankees who were unfortunate enough to enter his presence.”

Apparently after he cursed you out for your beliefs, Fry would simmer down a bit. Winchell wrote, “He would give you the best his house afforded, for a moderate price, and ask you to drink with him in the bargain. . . he was scrupulously honest in all of his dealings.”

Many went out of their way to avoid the boisterous Fry McGee; however, some men were forced to knock on his door and risk it all.

Fry P. McGee and his wife, Martha taken cir. 1860

One infamous account comes from Capt. James R. McClure. He was appointed by Gov. Reeder to take the census of all those residing in Kansas Territory in 1855.

Unfortunately for him, this included Fry P. McGee.

History tells us that the elections in 1854 were full of fraudulent activity with pro-slavery neighbors storming the territory to vote illegally. Another election set for March 1855 needed to establish what eligible voters there were in each precinct.

McClure stopped at McGee’s Tavern knowing he was the leader of the pro-slavery movement in this area of the territory. McClure wrote, “I determined to make myself as agreeable as possible and to avoid any trouble with these men and especially with McGee, who had presented to me as a very desperate and quarrelsome man.”

Nonchalantly as possible, most likely with a tremble in his step, Capt. McClure entered McGee’s Tavern to witness a group of ten to twelve grumbling men. To keep the peace, McClure quickly ordered a round of drinks to whet the appetites of these speculators.

“What’s your name and business?” Fry pushed on the stranger as he leaned against the bar.

Quickly rattling off that he was a Democrat, McClure was definitely still not safe.

Gov. Andrew Reeder

“What’s your business?” Fry pressed on.

“I’m taking the census on behalf of Gov. Reeder,” McClure uttered as he took a drink.

Immediately, Fry accused this wayward traveler of being an abolitionist and a spy. Perhaps to save the government-appointed census taker some time – but more likely to get him the hell out of Osage Co. – Fry offered to give him a list of voters in the area so he “would not have to bother visiting all the people.” McClure bravely asserted he would have time to visit with everyone.

Amidst smoke and whiskey, Fry screamed, “No damn Yankee will snoop around this place!”

So, that was the end of the census at 110-Mile Creek.

Forced to stay the night due to the time, McClure spent the remainder of his visit “in dread of our lives.” Even though the weather was cold and snow was falling, McClure made the decision he’d rather “face the bad weather than to spend the night at McGees.”

That election March 30, 1855 was not much better than the election of 1854- even though the census had been taken. The day of the election, there was one family (the McGees) living at 110 Mile Creek and about ten living around Switzer’s Creek. There was really no one else living in the entire county.

Voter fraud in Kansas Territory

The list of “voters” who stormed to 110-Mile Creek and camped the night before at McGee’s Tavern includes multiple men with Jackson Co. ties. They drank whiskey the night before, stayed up late and stormed the polling place with Fry McGee. Some of the pro-slavery voters of note that stood next to Fry were Ezra Hickman, Upton Hays and John C. McCoy.

One old man from Jackson Co. stated to a number of men while at 110-Mile Creek that he had no claim in the territory. He had been paid $1 per day for going there, and he went along with it because “it was better than staying home and doing nothing.”

When free-state voters showed up to the election, Fry was standing nearby. He gave these voters a different colored ballot so that everyone knew how they were voting as he “yelled and cursed at them.” The crowd of pro-slavery men picked up where Fry left off, badgering these men to the point that they fled without casting their votes.

Fry died September 17^th, 1861 at his home on 110-Mile Creek and was buried at the family cemetery until reinterred in 1881 at Elmwood. The cause of his death is unknown. Some said that his old tavern was haunted, but most of it today doesn’t exist. The remnants of the thick walls remain on a private farm, only leaving us to the imagination of what this small parcel of Kansas history still holds under the earth.

Fry’s homestead in Kansas City at 512 E. 4^th St., built in 1848, stood for decades. Its sturdy construction stood for 107 years until it was in danger of being destroyed to make way for an entryway to the ASB Bridge.

The last known photo of Fry McGee's home in the
 Native Sons archives, State Historical Society of Missouri

The Native Sons stepped in along with councilman Robert J. Benson to try to save this property from the bulldozers. He recognized the city was busy destroying old landmarks with no consideration of preservation. He wanted to move these landmarks to a central location where they could be maintained as an early museum of Kansas City history.

Wouldn’t that have been nice.

The Native Sons needed $10,000 to move the home and wanted to make it into an information center. They claimed at the time (1955) that it was the oldest standing structure in Kansas City. The highway commission looked at the building and decided “the mortar and brick work was so expert it could be moved without hazard.”

At the time, the home had been altered and made into a duplex. Besides some settlement causing sinking spots in the wood floors and the front door being difficult to open, the house was in sturdy shape. The walnut staircase had been removed prior when the home had been converted.

But efforts were short lived. Even though the windows had been boarded up, vandals had shimmied their way in, taking pieces of the building as personal relics for themselves. Windows, door frames, doors and woodwork had been stripped from her home forever. Two fires set by vandals damaged the walls and left what was the prominent home of Fry McGee a shell of its former glory.

The final nail in the coffin was when demolition of an adjoining building by construction crews endangered what was once deemed sound.

The damage was irreversible. The Native Sons returned the $6,000 they were able to raise in order to save Fry McGee’s home and walked away with their heads hung low.

To think that those bricks- those mantels, door knobs, doors and windows disappeared into the hands of trespassers unable to decipher the true meaning of preservation makes me sick. And today, we still have landmarks being torn down to make room for what is labeled “progress.”

Mobillion W. McGee (1817- 1888) – From Bogus Legislature to California Retirement

Mobillion, a name oftentimes spelled Mabillion, had an education that matches his lack of consistency with name spellings. Just like his brothers, he came to the area as a child and married Mary E. Ward in April 1844.

After inheriting some land from his father’s estate in 1840, Mobillion followed in the likeness of younger brother Milt and joined the Seminole wars in Florida in 1847. He was most likely drawn to this because of his knowledge of the Native American languages.

The history of Mobillion is tied directly to the history of his older brother, Fry. Lucky for me, this means I will keep his section brief. J

Mobillion McGee, taken cir. 1865

After settling down with his wife, he bought 60 acres that would eventually become the subdivision, platted by the subject, known as McGee’s Summit in 1871. Located near Westport and including Broadway, McGee’s Summit would later become the heart of Midtown.

Continuing the same pro-slavery sentiments, Mobillion joined brother Fry at 110-Mile Creek and invested in its interests In 1854. On March 30^th, 1855, while the area was under the pressure of the Border Wars and later the Civil War, Mobillion rounded up his friends and hiked the miles to Osage Co. to storm Kansas Territory, drink some booze and vote illegally.

They voted illegally to get Mobillion into the Kansas Territorial Legislature.

There once was a McGee County in Kansas Territory named for Mobillion - this member of the Bogus Legislature who was elected by his Missouri-resident friends. In 1860, the Free State Legislature voted to change the name to Cherokee County. This county on this southeastern edge of Kansas still holds this name.

Mobillion was a part of an interesting proposition that today boggles the mind. With help from his friend Robert T. Van Horn, owner of the Enterprise, they attempted to establish the new Town of Kansas into Kansas.

We’ve all been there as Kansas Citians…. We announce while out of town that we are from Kansas City and these uniformed people assume we live in Kansas.

 

Let the fight begin!

Van Horn and Mobillion fought to move the eastern border of Missouri to the Blue River, meaning that all property to the west, including Westport and the future site of Kansas City would be part of Kansas Territory.

Why, you ask?

Well, this area was heavily saturated with pro-slavery sentiments. When the elections deciding  by popular sovereignty were held, this would mean that this “new” boundary of Kansas Territory would include hundreds, if not thousands of pro-slavery men.

Needless to state, Mobillion’s efforts were not successful.

Mobillion had lived in Osage Co., Ks. for a majority of time but relocated to Kansas City during the Civil War. In 1883, he traveled to Los Angeles Co., Ca. and purchased an orange grove. He then took part of this new land and platted what would be known later as Pasadena.

Mobillion McGee's home in Pasadena, Ca.

He had kept part of this land and built an impressive home that entertained the Kansas City elite looking for palm trees, sun and a needed vacation.

A member of the Knights Templar in Pasadena, Mobillion died June 11, 1888 and was loaded onto a railroad car back to the east to Kansas City. One week later, Mobillion was buried at Elmwood Cemetery next to his reinterred family members.

Although it appears he never had his own children, he did have an adoptive daughter named Josephine Angelo Brown. A small leather-bound photo album belonging to Mobillion passed to her and then to her family where it remained virtually undiscovered until an interested family member brought this album back into the light.

Today, this album of early Kansas City pioneers is a treasure, full of photos of some of the most prominent families of the era.

Elijah Milton “Milt” McGee (1819-1873)- A Private Zoo For One of Kansas City’s First Mayors

“Colorful” isn’t even a word that even begins to identify this incredible yet complicated man of early Kansas City. The fourth born son of James and Eleanor McGee, Milt came with his family from Shelby Co., Ky. and evidently received a very limited education. Reading his personal manuscript tells a story of a man of… high opinion of himself, despite his multiple errors and erroneous writing style.

In his own autobiography written in third person called “Our Hero Was,” Milt described that in 1834 (at the age of 15, although often reported that he left at 12), he took an active part in the Mormon wars and “soon kicked up a fus with his father whoo was of the same temperature [and so Milt] blacked the old gentlemens eye and left.”

He punched his father, James in the eye? Wow.

He quickly left to be a part of the Seminole wars in Florida, and, according to himself, “Much could be said here to his prase.” After the Seminoles were at peace, “the young hero” returned to New Orleans where he learned of the war of Texas.

That’d be the Texas Revolution in 1836.

Milt proclaimed he arrived in Matagorda Bay and joined the ranks of Gen. Sam Houston. “He fought manfully at the battle of San Juanta and other scrmages.”

I think he meant San Jacinto and other skirmishes.

By 1838, he had wooed and married Sarah De Moss in Matagorda Co., Tx. and farmed there until 1841.  His only child, Gertrude, was born in 1840.

Hearing of the great valleys and beautiful scenery of California, “he made up his mind at once to make an adventure west” with two others. It is suggested he later went to California to find gold. . . and he did.

With money burning a hole in his pocket and a sense of pride covering his face, Milt returned to the Kansas City area, buying 240 acres of prime land south of 12^th St. bounded by Main to the west and Holmes to the east.

This land would later be known as the business center of Kansas City.

As he began his plans for cashing in on the growth of a city, he also began a notorious conquest as a border ruffian. One event in May 1855 made national papers. Charged with whiskey and a great hatred of the flood of eastern immigrants into Kansas Territory, Milt (with “two of his creatures”) stormed the American Hotel in Kansas City. This hotel was owned by the Emigrant Aid Society, a group that helped pay up to 25% of the costs for these easterners to relocate into newly-opened Kansas Territory.

They were largely abolitionists, and they were a threat to Milt’s plans to ensure Kansas was a slave state.

After bouncing back and forth between two locations, Milt threatened that if the “damned abolitionists” who entered Kansas and came from “North of the Mason-Dixon line or belonged to the North” must leave the area at once or be thrown into the Missouri River.

They swore to level the place and departed before going through with their threat. So was the life and of the early days of Kansas City during the Border Wars.

For the record, Milt was Justice of the Peace at the time.

McGee's Addition as shown in the 1869 "Bird's Eye View of Kansas City"

Milt predicted that the fledgling settlement of the Town of Kansas would flower into one of the most enterprising settlements of the Midwest. In 1857, he platted a subdivision south of the city known today as “McGee’s Addition” to encourage people to travel south to his newly-built hotel at 16^th and Grand Ave. This hotel, commonly referred to as Planter’s, Farmer’s Exchange, and most commonly McGee’s Hotel, became a landmark during the Border Wars and the headquarters of many pro-slavery men who commonly stormed into Kansas Territory.

To be clear, this was way south at the time. Wagons had to drudge through practically impassable rocky roads perched on the bluffs to get to this new little settlement of the city.

Metropolitan Block, McGee's Addition from 1858

As he carefully carved out roads and lots in the middle of a corn field, people laughed at his ambitions “way out in the country.” P.G. Brock, pioneer engineer, stated in 1887, “We all thought that Milt McGee a speculative idiot for hitching on his addition to the town.”

Milt managed to encourage people to buy lots in his new Addition by selling them cheap and only requiring them to promise to build. When he started his escapade, the only building that existed was his own home at 16^th and Baltimore.

Not only did Milt build in the wilderness, but he also fashioned an incredibly wide street in the middle of it. He called it “Grand Avenue” and made sure that its width was as impressive as large boulevards and avenues in large eastern cities.

Grand Ave. became the widest street in town, and to solidify its prominence, Milt built a row of two story brick buildings on the east side of Grand at current-day 13^th St.- right in the center of a corn field. This was the first brick block in all of the city.

1868 advertisement for McGee's Edition published in the newspaper

In the middle of McGee’s Addition, he built a park (aptly called McGee’s Park) and named the some of the streets after his family: Eleanor (Main St.), James (Walnut), Laurel (Oak) and Hackberry (Cherry) ran through the area, and later streets Mobillion, Milton, Gertrude, Catherine and Amelia were added.

In 1857, the population of the city was 700; only 21 people claimed to live in McGee’s Addition and eight buildings had been built.

Milt was a Southerner and infamous wheeler and dealer. He would meet riverboats filled with droves of people and their earthly possessions at Westport Landing. Accompanied by a full brass band serenading their arrival and huge banners announcing his affordable prices for land, Milt would expound of the greatness of Kansas City and push for the new arrivals buy lots. He was able to convince some to abandon their westward migration to Kansas Territory and move a little bit south to McGee’s Addition.

It worked.

Pioneer settler Joseph M. Chick said in 1908, “No one except Milt McGee would have a lot south of 5^th and Main St. 50 years ago, $30 was a good price for big lot south at that point.”

Milt McGee's home at 16th and Baltimore taken before 1868
Note the brass band and the unicyclist relaxing on the lawn

By 1860, just three years after platting the “preposterous” McGee’s Addition, the area boasted a population of 2,319 and had 469 buildings.

He had always dabbled in politics, assisting his brothers in electing pro-slavery candidates to the Kansas Bogus Legislature. He would offer free rides to the polls in Kansas City – but only if you voted for his friends.

A staunch Democrat, he was elected as State Representative in 1862 and as State Senator in 1865. Pro-slavery before the war but a supporter of the Union at the outbreak, Milt’s home and hotel were oftentimes a stopover to many who fought as border ruffians. It was said that after the war broke out, Milt freed one of his slaves so he could be of use to the Union as a scout.

Milt McGee with a group of Native Americans. Date unknown but likely
in the late 1860s. Photo courtesy of the McGee family

This is what saved Milt from being thrown out of Kansas City during the war.

In 1868, he upgraded his home and, according to his obituary in the Kansas City Times, the 13 acre grounds had an entrance gate made from the lower jawbones of a whale and included a private zoo complete with a brown bear, a dozen deer, two bald eagles and other wildlife roaming in a five acre enclosure.

His political reputation during the Civil War and being a proponent of railroad expansion to Kansas City led him to run for mayor in 1870. On election day, it was reported that Milt supplied kegs of beer on street corners and voters could get a nip of whiskey from one of the barrels at his home.

He won.

After serving a year, Milt retired back to his home and continued to be active in city development. On February 11^th, 1873, just days after returning from a trip from New Orleans, Milt went to lay down and never woke up from his rest.  He was 54 years old.

A current view of where the Metropolitan Block of Kansas City was

Evidence of Milt McGee’s contribution to our beloved Kansas City can be seen in remnants today. One street that he named does remain as the city slowly swallowed his family’s namesakes into the street names we know today. McGee St., of course, does remain.

His hotel was swallowed up by the city and was torn down in 1889 to make way for a brick business block on Grand Ave. between 16^th and 17^th St. By the 1930s, only one building remained as real estate drove prices up and the buildings of McGee’s Addition into the ground. Today, none stand.

McGee’s Addition today includes Kansas City’s newest landmarks such as Sprint Center and Power and Light.

Menard and James Hyatt McGee, Jr- When Guns Go Blazing

The last of the McGee boys born to James H. and Eleanor Fry were Francis Manor (Menard) McGee (1831-1864) and James Hyatt McGee, Jr. (1837-1895). Although not as well-known as their other brothers, Menard and James still are a good portrait of early Kansas City history.

(L-R) James, Milt, Mobillion and Allen B.H. McGee, cir 1871
taken in front of the McGee homestead.

Both these boys were quite young when their father died in 1840, but that didn’t stop them from their duties as a McGee. Both seemed to spend some time in Osage Co. with Fry and Mobillion, and in 1854-55, they spent time in Arkansas on a hunting excursion.

It is said that Menard and James killed 34 buffalo in just shy of two days.

Their love of hunting drew them together, but their paths varied quite a bit due to inevitable events of the time.

Menard was the only one of his brothers to join organized service. At the outbreak of the war, he served as a private in Co. D, 3^rd Missouri Volunteer Infantry. His swiftness with a gun was vital in battles at Pea Ridge, Corinth, Vicksburg and Atlanta.

However, time was running out quickly for Menard.

In a desperate charge led by Gen. Cockrell in Franklin, Tn. where 600 Missouri men were apparently killed, Menard lost his life on November 30^th, 1864. Union losses at Franklin were 189; the Confederates lost 1,750 men. He was 33 years old and unwed.

Battle of Franklin illustration (1890), courtesy of Library of Congress

He was brought back to Jackson Co. and his family erected a beautiful monument to him at their family cemetery. He, with others, was moved to Elmwood Cemetery.

James H. McGee, Jr. used his power of the firearm in a different way. After marrying Ruth Thompson in Clay Co. in 1859, James was involved in a few skirmishes around the area but never served in formal military service.

In 1858, he platted J.H. McGee’s Addition, an area that bordered his mother’s home on the south side and McGee’s Addition, platted one year earlier by Milt on the east side. Today, this is land that includes 15^th to 17^th St. between Broadway and Main St.

In addition to early dabbling in real estate, James also was involved in livestock trade; however, his love of sports guided him in future endeavors.

The father of four children, James became most known for his involvement in hunting and fishing. He was considered to be a “splendid shot” and a nationally recognized sharp shooter. His love of the sport led him to be a charter member of the Kansas City Gun Club and one of the earliest promoters of the Missouri State Fish and Game Protective Association, now part of the Missouri Department of Conservation.

Illustration of James H. McGee, Jr.
published in the Kansas City Star (1895)

By the 1880 census, James was working as a gun dealer. Perhaps his love of the hunt got in the way of more practical ways of making money. It was written that “he was at one time a wealthy man but of late years had reverses.”

So, the youngest of the McGee boys didn’t inherit the ability to manage his financial wealth that he once had.

On August 21^st, 1895, 55-year-old James was found by his daughter in a very concerning state. His breathing was heavy and the damage had been done. The Kansas City Star reported that James “had been for a long time troubled with insomnia and had been compelled to resort to artificial means to produce sleep.”

James H. McGee, Jr. was  a user of morphine. This use killed him.

At the time of his death, all of his 13 siblings had passed away except for A.B.H. McGee. His oldest sister, Amelia, had died less than a month earlier at the age of 82.

Today, J.H. McGee’s Addition includes the Kauffman Center of the Performing Arts and Webster House.

So Many McGees, So Many Stories

Believe it or not, I have only scratched the surface of how much the McGees influenced the early history of the area. Today, our city wouldn’t look the same without the gusto of brave man and woman who plucked their family from Kentucky bluegrass and successfully established them just past the bluffs along the Missouri River in what would be the heart of our cherished city.

Other articles of interest: 

The Founding of Kansas City - "The Land Dispute That Led to the Town of Kansas"-  click here

Allen Burr Harrison McGee- "The McGees of Kansas City: A Pioneer Legacy" - click here

Election Frauds in 1855- "A Bit of Bull at Bull Creek: The Kansas Frauds of 1855" - click here

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