Last weekend, StarWars.com contributor Duncan Jenkins asked me and several other friends to join him at his home in Missouri for the grand opening of his own private Star Wars museum, an enormous 3,000-square foot structure he recently had constructed to house his ever-expanding collection of toys, housewares, books, posters, and other collectibles. For the few Star Wars completists out there (collectors who try to get one of everything), one can see the need for a warehouse-size space to display over 30 years worth of saga merchandise. Even Steve Sansweet's Rancho Obi-Wan is nearing capacity these days, accelerated by the onslaught of Clone Wars merchandise being produced around the globe.
Entering a non-descript door on the side of the barn (there's just a single window -- an emergency escape should the plush Ewoks become riotous), we were immediately confronted by a vaulted space which bisects into a loft as the back wall recedes. While much of the collection was still waiting to come out of boxes (a basement flood last May forced the mobilization of the entire collection into the unfinished museum), many of the vintage toys and action figures were already out and soaking up the collective admiration of all the guests, who, I might add, were all but unanimously old-school vintage collectors.
Now, while I'd like to send up a full account of the museum's (christened, by the way, "The Sithsonian") many features and collections, I'm opting to save a full review for another day given that much of the place is still packed away in boxes. What I would like to give an account of, however, is the Star Wars Saturday we spent in Kansas City.
Yup, Kansas City. Doesn't register much of a blip on fandom's radar unless you happen to know that a Kansas City hotel -- the Muehlebach -- hosted the 1976 World Science Fiction Convention which famously housed the fabled "Star Wars Room" filled with original props, artwork, and Howard Chaykin's uber-valuable Star Wars Poster #1 which could be had for just $1.75. Other than that, what could a place like Kansas City possibly hold for a Star Wars fan?
Apparently plenty, if you know where to look.
As a bonus of our weekend visit, Duncan graciously led the dozen-plus of us on a Star Wars-ified tour of his hometown just outside Kansas City, starting with the original movie theater where he had first caught Star Wars as a kid in 1977. Now a hospice, the structure still hints of its cinematic roots, with a glass-lined lobby and solid windowless wrap-around walls. Like drive-ins, the single screen theaters most of us first witnessed the classic trilogy in just couldn't survive multiplex/Netflix age, and now reside somewhere out in the Dune Sea of memory.
After gassing up across the street from the old theater-turned-hospice, we headed for one of Kansas City's crown jewels, the National World War I Museum (which, I later learned, is the only WWI museum in the country). Now, here's a perfect example of finding Star Wars where you're not really looking for it, although a dozen-plus hardcore fans with midi-chlorians on the brain makes rooting Star Wars out of the woodwork a little more likely. In addition to the obvious design influences Star Wars borrowed from the hardware of both World Wars, we were able to identify a few specific pieces -- the German broom-handle Mauser pistol that formed the base for Han Solo's blaster (we also found Indy's Webley pistol, incidentally); the British grenade that was later incorporated into the hilt of Obi-Wan's A New Hope lightsaber; and, of course, the pilot goggles and leather flight suits that heavily informed the costume design for the Naboo fighter pilots of Episode I. A pretty cool little Star Wars hit in what amounted to an exquisite museum tour -- definitely worth the stop if you're ever in KC.
For lunch, we all piled into our cars and headed across the Missouri River to a somewhat neglected and forgotten side of town called the West Bottoms District. Early 20th century brick structures line the empty streets in what appears to be a city frozen in time -- and the last place you'd expect to find a Star Wars reference. But, turning a corner, there it was -- an entire building wall facing the parking lot for Jerry's Woodsweather Café depicting what could only be the Star Wars cantina, although some creative license was taken with several of the characters (we were bummed that Hammerhead, er, Momaw Nadon, had a "Violators Will Be Towed" sign slapped between his eyes -- seriously, they couldn't move it just a foot to the right?).
Sad to discover the café was actually closed until mid-afternoon, we headed back over the river and found ourselves going the wrong way down a one-way street -- a happy accident, it turns out, since a quick course-correction forced us into another enormous Star Wars-style mural, one our host had been unaware of. Vader, Chewie, Artoo and the Death Star graced this one, along with a healthy dose of "Da Force". Apparently, Star Wars still has street cred in the Paris of the Plains.
Since we now had our Star Wars radar up (really, is it ever down?), we shouldn't have been surprised to find more Star Wars references at our next stop, the American Jazz Museum and Negro Leagues Baseball Museum located in the historic 18th and Vine district. Aside from the fascinating history and stunning displays (including a large baseball diamond manned with life-size bronze players), we couldn't help but find a few hints of Star Wars here too -- James Earl Jones, the voice of Darth Vader, narrated a short film documentary in the small theater, and Billy Dee Williams (Lando Calrissian) could be seen gracing at least two jazz movie posters in the gallery. Yes, trivial, but we'd been full-tilt since that double-hit of urban art got our geek on.
This left us with one final stop for the day, the Muehlebach Hotel in Kansas City. While the historic lobby still remains, we couldn't be certain that the room which housed the famous Star Wars room still existed, but we felt it warranted a stop all the same. We weren't given access to the actual room, unfortunately (it was allegedly being used), but we did manage to follow the layout schematic printed in the old 1976 Worldcon program book to the Star Wars Room's door, which felt strangely small and insignificant. Was this the birthplace of Star Wars fandom as we know it? We concluded that the locked door was probably preferable in the end, since the empty (and likely remodeled) room probably would have disappointed. Now we could leave with our imaginary vision of the room intact.
Impressed by the extent to which Star Wars has ingrained itself into culture (and our brains, apparently), I wondered if it might be fun to explore other cities and small towns for hints of Star Wars, both deliberate and random. A "Star Wars Road Trip" series, perhaps? We'll see. But for now, I can relish the memory of watching, for the very first time, the sizable 1984 Star Wars Gym-Dandy Command Tower backyard toy being raised for display in the Sithsonian's vaulted entry, manned by plush Ewoks and a somewhat anachronistic Jar Jar Binks standing watch.
