In underwriting the competition to design the memorial, Smith challenged contestants to develop something “transcending in spiritual and aesthetic values,” which would symbolize American history and culture.² The Gateway Arch is the fulfillment of Smith’s dream. Although he never lived to see the actual monument built, Smith approved of Finnish-American Eero Saarinen’s winning design in 1947.³ Smith wrote to Saarinen and stated, “it was your design, your marvelous conception, your brilliant forecast into the future, that has made the realization of the dream possible – a dream that you and the wonderful genius at your command and the able assistance of your associates are going to achieve far beyond the remotest possibility that we had dared visualize in the beginning.”⁴

Architectural engineer Hannskarl Bandel’s unique construction design brought Saarinen’s design to life. Bandel’s developed a series of steel triangles that narrowed in size as they near the top. Each section was twelve feet in length and doubled-walled. Once installed, each unit was filled with concrete and covered with stainless steel sheets.⁵ The Arch is composed of 142 sections of these prefabricated stainless steel-covered triangles. The Arch weighs over 17,246 tons and is over 630 feet high and 630 feet wide at the base.

From its inception in 1933 until its completion in 1967, the Arch project was controversial. The 40 city blocks along the Mississippi riverfront envisioned as the location of the future memorial was densely populated and held hundreds of historic buildings. Smith’s commission planned to raze the buildings using the city’s power of eminent domain to acquire the property rather than purchase it directly from the owners.⁶ The resistance to the project and the lawsuits ensuing from the commission’s plans and approach to the land acquisition delayed the start of construction and approval of matching federal funds needed for site preparation. Legal suits to prevent the issuance of city bonds to fund the project paralleled the landowner suits against government acquisition and impeded progress. Then, the 1933 financial crash compounded the delay. Still, by 1942 with all property owner suits and appeals resolved, and questions over the issuance of bonds by the city settled, crews finished clearing the 90-acre site.⁷ Although America’s entry into World War II, combined with new lawsuits over the relocation of utilities and the elevated railroad track lines, again postponed construction of the Arch, work on the restoration of the Old Court House and the Memorial Park proceeded. Construction of the Arch finally began in 1961 with the laying of the foundation.

The final cost of the Arch was $13 million, financed with 75 percent federal funds and 25 percent city of St. Louis funds. Additionally, the Bi-State Development Agency funded the $2 million Arch transportation system.⁸ The total cost of the entire project including acquisition and demolition of buildings on the site, site preparation, restoration of the Old Court House, construction and landscaping of the surrounding park, the parking facility, underground museum and exhibits, visitor accommodations, building of the new train tunnel and moving of the railroad track, exceeded $40 million; again this was funded approximately 75 percent by the federal government and 25 percent by the city of St. Louis.⁹

In addition to political and financial delays, protests and labor disputes plagued the Arch’s construction. Civil rights activists saw the Arch project as a symbol of a perpetuation of racial discrimination in the building trades in a highly unionized city. Although African Americans worked as day laborers, none held positions in the skilled building trades hired to construct the monument. Black workers took action and protested the construction company in mid-1964. Then, on July 14, 1964, Percy Green and Richard Daly, two members of the Congress of Racial Equality, climbed the north leg of the Arch and remained there for four hours to protest the exclusion of Black contractors and laborers from the project. A group of protestors gathered in support and stayed while the demonstration lasted. Racism was also at the root of a demonstration on January 7, 1966, when members of the AFL–CIO walked off the job, refusing to work with plumbers affiliated with the Congress of Industrial Unions (CIU). The protesters claimed that the Black plumbers the CIU represented did substandard work. Given that the federal government funded a significant portion of the construction of the Memorial Park, the protests initiated a series of events that led to intervention of the U.S. Justice Department. The Justice Department filed a suit against the St. Louis AFL-CIO and four of its member unions. The cases were the first filed under the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which governed equal employment.

The Arch’s visitor center and museum opened in 1967. In that same year, the tram to the top of the Arch, opened to the public. The National Park Service assumed responsibility for management of the entire complex, which became known as Gateway National Park.¹⁰ The Park Service designed the museum, located under the Arch, to provide historical information about Thomas Jefferson, the American colonizers who played a role in expanding the West, and the First Nations peoples who populated the land that white Americans confiscated. The goal was to help visitors understand the complex intersection of diverse wants, needs, dreams, methods of attainment, and rationalization of consequences that drove western expansion. The Old Courthouse of St. Louis, notable because of its association with the Dred Scott case, is also located in the park and open to the public.¹¹

While most visitors to the Park are attracted by the beauty of the edifice and the history it memorializes, the Arch has also attracted daredevils since its completion. In addition to parachutists flying through the legs of the monument, there have been multiple attempts to climb or parachute off the Arch. The first and most deadly incident occurred in November 1980 when 33-year-old Kenneth Swyers attempted to parachute from a plane to the top of the Arch and then base jump using his reserve parachute. Unfortunately, the wind blew Swyers sideways after landing, and he slid down the leg to his death.¹² A month later, a local St. Louis television station reported that a parachutist wearing a Santa Claus costume jumped out of an airplane and landed on the Arch. The supposed stuntman reportedly grasped a beacon on the monument and then used the parachute to support his glide down the Arch’s leg. Police later determined that the report was, most likely, a hoax.¹³ In 1986, professional stuntman Dan Koko, who earned $1 million when he successfully dove 110 meters off the Vegas World Hotel in 1984, proposed free-diving off the Arch into a giant airbag, seeing this as the ultimate stunt. St. Louis officials nixed Koko’s plans.¹⁴ Then on September 14, 1992, John C. Vincent, who parachuted off the World Trade Center in May 1991, performed a successful climb of the Arch. The 25-year-old used suction cups to ascend the leg and then parachuted safely back to the ground after resting on top for over an hour. Vincent was arrested and charged with two misdemeanors.¹⁵

Rather than risk parachuting onto the structure, visitors can reach the viewing room at the top of the Arch in trams that travel inside the legs of the monument. Once there, visitors can see east across the Mississippi into East St. Louis, Illinois, and west into downtown St. Louis, Missouri, and the sprawling suburbs of the greater St. Louis region. With exception to the Mississippi River, little remains of what Lewis and Clark saw as they set out to chart America’s western territory in 1804. The Arch stands as a complicated representation to the nation. For some, the arch stands as a glorious testament to western expansion and progress; to others, the Arch represents the physical embodiment of displacement and racism. Which begs the question, how can progress be an equitable endeavor for all involved?

Missouri was the only state granted the privilege of two headquarters locations within the new twelve-unit Federal Reserve System. What led organizers to grant St. Louis and Kansas City such an honor as to preside over two reserve districts, encompassing states across the nation’s midsection from Colorado to parts of Tennessee and Kentucky, including banks that might otherwise look to major cities such as Chicago for financial leadership? Ultimately, a combination of tradition, Democratic Party politics, existing business relationships, the geography of existing trade routes, and consideration of capital “balance” aided in the selection of these two cities for Federal Reserve headquarters.

Origins of the Federal Reserve Act

Historians frequently point to the Panic of 1907 as an essential motivation for reforming the nation’s financial system. Though panics on Wall Street, and even broader depressions had cycled through the American economy throughout the nineteenth century, this event’s “perfect storm” highlighted the restrictions of the money supply and the banks’ inability to coordinate an effective response.¹ Much of the blame for the 1907 financial panic can be attributed to a failed attempt to consolidate (corner) stock on the Amalgamated Copper Company, and the ripple effects it had on stock brokerages, banks, and trust companies connected to the owner, Fritz Augustus Heinze, and his associates. Other factors such as seasonal farm credits (a typical issue leading to short currency supplies in the fall), and the 1906 San Francisco Fire also drew significant amounts of gold away from the nation’s financial center in New York. Failing institutions led to a spreading panic throughout the country, and many banks were forced to close or issue scrip as currency due to the lack of supply of hard currency. The aging private financier J.P. Morgan stepped up to organize a response to the financial crisis. An effective response required significant commitments from the large banks of New York City to stabilize the financial system, a private bailout to the order of tens of millions of dollars. Overall, the Panic of 1907 demonstrated that the national banking system, unreformed since 1863 and lacking a centralized response structure or reserve system to respond to financial crises, needed significant overhaul. The panic also heightened many Americans’ long-existing distrust of bankers, Wall Street, and the “Money Trust,” which meant that reform efforts had to address the public’s fears of corporate control. In a period of increasing progressivism, the appeal of government control or at least oversight of the banking system was increasingly attractive—to many outside the financial sector.

In order to turn toward the government as a central force in banking, Americans had to overcome deep-seated fears of a central bank. These fears reached their height in the 1830s when Andrew Jackson killed the charter for the federally authorized national Second Bank of the United States, but traditional agrarian, anti-bank sentiments prevailed in the still majority-rural population. At the turn of the twentieth century, policymakers still considered a central bank impossible. German immigrant banker Paul Warburg led the way in proposing an institution more in line with European financial systems and helped convince conservative Republican Senator Nelson Aldrich to form a legislative research committee and write a reform plan.² The process took years, however. The tumultuous politics of progressivism, and the toxicity of Aldrich’s conservative name and record, led to delays and the handing over of bank reform plans to Democrats under Woodrow Wilson. Democrats also were divided on the issue of finance, being the party of Jackson and the still highly influential populist William Jennings Bryan, an advocate for the Free Silver Movement, which promoted unlimited coinage of silver. Still, reformers caught Wilson’s attention and convinced him of some of the important details of a new banking system. He coaxed along Congressional leaders Representative Carter Glass of Virginia and Senator Robert Owen of Oklahoma and eventually prodded Congress into passing the Federal Reserve Act in the waning days before Christmas in 1913. The United States had finally overcome fears of a central bank to create a uniquely American, federated system of regional banks with a blend of government and private control.

Organization of the Reserve Districts

Early in 1914, a committee to organize the Reserve Bank system got to work. Secretary of the Treasury William G. McAdoo, Secretary of Agriculture David F. Houston, and Comptroller of the Currency John Skelton Williams traveled 10,000 miles over six weeks, holding interviews in 18 cities to determine where the eight to twelve reserve cities specified by the Federal Reserve Act should be located. Chicago, New York, and St. Louis, which the National Banking Act of 1863 had already designated as reserve cities, were considered “obvious choices.”³ To choose the other five to nine cities, the committee listened to business leaders give testimony on commercial, industrial, and agricultural statistics, trade and banking conditions, transit and communication links, and population figures that would aid a city’s case for a headquarters.

Cities actively lobbied for designation as a reserve city; 37 cities sought selection as a headquarters location and 18 received extensive hearings (beyond the already chosen New York, Chicago, and St. Louis). The final decisions produced some outcry among slighted cities. The Reserve Bank Organizing Committee (ROBC) ultimately produced more than 5,000 pages of evidence collected during its hearings, the results of a ballot poll among banks that would join the system, and statements defending its decisions to the American public. The committee thus presented ample documentation of their decisions to the American public.⁴ Kansas City, a more controversial pick than some, cited its new Union Station and ability to transport agricultural commodities through 16 major rail lines and 32 subordinate lines as evidence of its strength as a commercial center. Such rail lines also provided fast mail service to outlying parts of its eventual reserve district, as noted by testimonials from bankers as far away as Roswell, New Mexico. Mail correspondence was important to banking activity, thus the organizers strongly considered this point. Kansas City could also boast of higher correspondence banking activity, where banks in smaller towns and cities kept accounts in its banks for various reasons, than competing cities such as Denver and Omaha.⁵

A national poll asked 7,471 banks which cities would be their first, second, and third choice reserve city locations.⁶ Those giving St. Louis the edge for District 8 included bankers in the state of Arkansas, a large portion of Illinois (with Chicago as the other main vote-getter), and of course Missouri (votes split between Kansas City and St. Louis, 64-47). Portions of other states which the organizers eventually assigned to this district also selected St. Louis as a first choice, though other prominent choices included Chicago and Louisville.⁷ In the case of District 10, Kansas City received the overwhelming vote in Kansas, New Mexico, and northern Oklahoma. It also received more than half of the Missouri votes and mostly second place votes from Colorado and Nebraska institutions that eventually were incorporated into its district (and later given branches in Denver and Omaha).⁸

In the decision submitted to Congress and an accompanying public statement, the committee laid out the geographic boundaries of each district and pertinent statistics that had led them to draw the regional map as they did. For instance, St. Louis’s District 8 included at least 458 banks and up to $6,367,006 in capital (some of that accounting for state banks and trust companies that had applied for admission to the system after the initial membership period for national banks). Kansas City’s District 10 included at least 836 banks and up to $5,600,977 in capital. It should be noted that districts centered in New York City, Philadelphia, Cleveland, and Chicago controlled significantly larger capital per district, ranging from about $12 million to $20 million each, but the two Missouri-centered districts were on par with the other six reserve districts throughout the nation.⁹

The balance of capital throughout the nation’s districts upheld the validity of the committee’s choices for headquarter cities and helped thwart the desire of Wall Street bankers for financial control of most of the Northeast if not the rest of the nation. Some of the chosen cities produced controversy; the committee selected Dallas and Atlanta over New Orleans, which was larger at the time, due to recent economic growth and other considerations. A few observers thought the outsized influence of “numerous Missouri politicians then in office” might have affected the decision to place two reserve centers in the state; although at least one prominent Missourian, Senator James Reed, initially opposed the Federal Reserve Act before changing his tune to boost Kansas City’s fortunes.¹⁰ The RBOC ultimately defended its choices by offering up transparently the many statistics, maps, and testimonials that had supported the chosen cities. It also composed a public statement addressing complaints from cities such as New Orleans, Baltimore, Denver, and Omaha. The committee suggested that those that complained misunderstood the function of the Federal Reserve Banks. Ordinary consumers continued banking operations much as before, at no detriment to these prominent commercial cities. Banks could also continue doing business outside of their designated districts if they chose, but ballots and testimonial evidence supported the selection of the chosen cities as central to national banking operations. The statement concluded, “It is simply misleading for any city or individual to represent that the future of a city will be injuriously affected by reason of its failure to secure a federal reserve bank. Every city which has the foundations for prosperity and progress will continue to grow and expand, whether it has such a reserve bank or not, and well-informed bankers, especially, are aware of this.”¹¹ The Federal Reserve district map ratified the committee’s decisions and recognized Missouri’s significant contributions to the nation’s economy in the early twentieth century with its two headquarter cities.

Conclusion—How the Federal Reserve Functioned

The organizing committee had worked quickly to select the reserve cities in just a few months after the legislative birth of the Federal Reserve in December 1913. Selected by April 1914, the chosen reserve cities had to move quickly before opening operations officially on November 16, 1914. Each bank had to select a Governor to run day-to-day operations, as well as an average of 20 employees including bankers, clerks, currency handlers, and support staff. In addition, the organization of each reserve bank involved selection of a nine-member Board of Directors. The Federal Reserve Board (a national body) appointed Class C Directors, including the Chair and Vice Chairman of each district board. Class A Directors were bankers from the region, and Class B Directors were members of regional commerce, agriculture, or industrial businesses but not bankers. Regional member banks selected all Directors.¹² Even though a national board oversaw the overall system (and legislative acts during the 1930s would strengthen the national board still further), the fact that districts directly selected most of the members of the district reserve boards helped shield the system from accusations of too much centralization. Banks also appreciated that the semi-private structure of the Federal Reserve allowed them to receive six percent dividends from their district reserve bank.

In its early years, the Federal Reserve Banks’ primary roles included “discounting” loans from member banks (exchanging liquid currency for these assets), clearing checks for the district, expediting wire transfers of funds among district banks, regulating member banks through timely examinations, and offering professionalization services to the banking industry.¹³ At the board level, Directors contended with a range of national and international events affecting policy decisions, such as how to support government bond drives during World War I. In the fluctuating economy of the 1920s, Federal Reserve Boards debated how to use discount rates and other policies to control member banks’ overinvestment in speculative stocks and bonds. They also promoted “productive credit” for agriculture and industry in its place; however, they did not successfully ward off the economic collapse of the Great Depression.¹⁴ New legislative mandates and policy arrangements beginning in the 1930s with the Glass-Steagall Act eventually helped the Federal Reserve take its position as the influential economic powerhouse it is today.¹⁵

One other notable contribution of the Federal Reserve from this early period to the present, is its role as an economic research engine generating commercial and financial statistics for the various districts. The St. Louis Fed has offered such data as well as institutional histories and primary sources related to the Fed through its highly useful digital platforms, FRASER and FRED. FRED (Federal Reserve Economic Data) first became digitized in 1991, with the publication of U.S. Financial Data. The database has since added other journals to its collection. FRASER (the Federal Reserve Archival System for Economic Research), first online in 2004, builds on the legacy of St. Louis Fed Research Director Homer Jones, who first began providing economic information to the public in 1958. It offers the historical researcher ample material from the Fed’s legislative founding to the present.¹⁶ Missouri’s representation in the Federal Reserve System, not just in its two headquarters cities but also in its services to research and education, is therefore commendable.

Strikes of public transport workers were not uncommon and impacted the entire community’s economy when they occurred. In urban areas in Missouri such as Kansas City, St. Louis, Springfield, Joplin, and St. Joseph, residents depended on an extensive network of trolley and streetcar lines to navigate cities that were too large to walk. In the cities and towns of late nineteenth century Middle America, the rough and muddy condition of the city streets, either unpaved or paved with cobblestones, made walking problematic. Initial transport systems were horse-drawn omnibuses. Although often bumpy, riding horse drawn cars spared the passengers exposure to the muck of city streets with the additional benefit of navigating up steep hills, such as the bluffs at the river’s edge in Kansas City. However, the horses’ speed and stamina limited the effectiveness of horse-drawn omnibuses and railed horsecars to an approximate four-mile radius from a city’s center.⁵ Additionally, horses created an average of 10½ pounds of manure per day, creating a clean-up and disposal challenge for the neighborhoods.⁶

A transportation solution was needed that would grow with the quickly expanding metropolises. Although trains connecting major commercial cities finally reached major Missouri cities in the 1850s and 1860s, they were noisy and dirty and altogether unsuitable for use in crowded cities. An intra-city solution was needed that would provide a more city-amenable and less expensive method of transportation in these confined spaces. Entrepreneurs in St Louis saw an opportunity to upgrade to horse-drawn rail cars (known as horsecars), following the example of profitable Eastern companies. Looking for cheaper solutions in 1868, they experimented with steam-powered vehicles and later electric rail cars to meet St. Louis’ growing demand for public transportation. At one point, investors even built a cable-car system. Still, the fast growth of the city and the problems of operating a cable system drove investors to transition to the new and more economical electric trolleys and streetcars.⁷ In 1874, the completion of the Eads Bridge across the Mississippi River finally connected East St. Louis, Illinois, with St. Louis, Missouri; shortly after that, new trolley lines opened between the two cities. For the first forty years, several dozen privately owned lines operated in the area. As operating parallel systems became less profitable, most of these companies consolidated into the St. Louis Public Service Company. The company operated under a franchise agreement with the cities it served until taken over by the Bi-State Authority (later Metro) in 1963. Despite the rail companies’ financial struggles, businesses grew up along the intra-city rails, and new residential communities flourished.

Intra-city electric trolleys and streetcars addressed the negative attributes of locomotives producing much less pollution and were considerably quieter. The cars, powered by overhead electrical wires, were smaller and lighter than train cars and, therefore, less expensive to manufacture and maintain. The rails on which trolleys ran were embedded in the street and even with the surface, which enabled smooth transit for pedestrians and other vehicles as well as drainage for rainwater.⁸ Installation of rails for horse-drawn and electric cars also was faster, less expensive, and easier to maintain than those needed for steam locomotives, facilitating the quick expansion of the electric trolley system as cities expanded.

Similar to advancements in St. Louis, the Citizens Railway Company in St. Joseph, Missouri, replaced its horse-drawn omnibuses with horse cars shortly after the Civil War in 1866. By 1880, six different companies were operating horsecars in the city. In 1880, Peoples Street Railway advertised the first electric streetcar, although historical records indicated that it may not have gone into operation until 1887.⁹ In 1885, another company, St. Joseph Railway Light and Power Company, operated 150 electric streetcars over 40 miles of track. This was significantly more miles than either St. Louis or New York City had in operation at the time. Between 1910 and 1939, the company also operated a three-mile interurban electric railway between St. Joseph and Savannah, Missouri.

Missouri’s most extensive trolley system was a tri-state network connecting southwestern Missouri, eastern Oklahoma, and southeast Kansas mining towns. The hub of the trolley system was in Joplin, Missouri. Lines extended as far north as Croweburg, Kansas, south to Miami, Oklahoma, and east to Carthage, Missouri. By 1920 this network provided easy access to nearly every town in the region, bolstering the mining industry by providing affordable transportation for mineworkers from their homes to the mines and back.¹⁰

But the honor of being the largest trolley system in Missouri – and the third largest in the country at its peak — belongs to Kansas City, Missouri, which also began with horse-drawn railway cars in 1870.¹¹ In 1885, the city added a cable car system similar to the one operated in San Francisco. The cable design allowed cars to navigate up and down the steep bluffs from Union Depot in the West Bottom at the juncture of the Missouri and Kansas rivers to Woodland Avenue on the city’s east end. When electric power replaced horse-drawn cars, Kansas City’s rail system expanded even faster, providing transportation to Liberty, Lawrence, Olathe, Fort Leavenworth, Excelsior Springs, and other local communities. By 1920, the network covered hundreds of miles of streets, providing pollution-free, inexpensive transportation to all classes of area residents.¹² Ridership in 1922 reached an all-time high of 136.8 million riders, dropped to 70 million just before Pearl Harbor, but later soared back to 136 million immediately after World War II.

Kansas City also was relatively progressive in that it did not attempt to segregate the trolleys or streetcars. In fact, citizens voted down a proposed ordinance to institute Jim Crow segregation on streetcars and trolleys.¹³ This was not the case in St. Louis, where Black people were initially required to ride hanging onto the outside of the cars. In 1868, in response to a lawsuit filed by Neptune and Carolina Williams, the St. Louis Circuit Court ruled that companies must allow Black passengers to ride inside the cars.¹⁴ When, despite the court order, the practice continued, Charlton Tandy organized a boycott in 1870 to force the companies to allow Black passengers to ride safely inside the cars.¹⁵

Missouri communities such as Springfield did not have as many official Jim Crow laws on the books compared to those in southern states; however, many of the public facilities including streetcars were segregated by white supremacist custom. The previously mentioned Springfield labor strike regarding streetcars intensified racial relations in the city. During the strike, citizens who supported the workers road jitneys, but Black residents were frequently not allowed to ride the jitneys by local segregation custom.¹⁶ Peter Small, a Black Springfield resident, reported being physically threatened after riding a jitney. He complained, “They won’t let Negroes ride on the jitneys even if I want to ride.”¹⁷ While there is evidence of racial segregation on streetcars in some Missouri cities, the construction of the cars and the method of loading from the front and unloading from the rear of the cars made strict adherence to segregation impractical.

Although the customs regarding segregation on public transportation was less hardline in Missouri, the expansion of streetcar lines still facilitated segregation because they allowed white families to move at greater distances from the city centers and impoverished neighborhoods. Real estate investors and proponents of segregated housing patterns, such as Kansas City’s J.C. Nichols, built their new suburbs close to or near the end of the trolley or streetcar lines. Availability of transportation from the new housing developments to the downtown business districts contributed to the fast expansion of Missouri’s urban areas. For example, Nichols saw the electric streetcars as so critical to the success of his master plan for the development of the Country Club District south of downtown Kansas City that when the Dodson Dummy Line threatened the success of his venture, he purchased the railway. He then turned the company over to the Metropolitan Street Railway Company to operate in exchange for its commitment to electrify the railway.¹⁸ The streetcar ran along a right-of-way now known as the Harry Wiggins Trolley Track Trail. In 1957, the Country Club Line to Brookside was the last electrified streetcar line in Kansas City to be decommissioned when ridership dropped below 46 million annually.¹⁹

With post-World War II Detroit churning out automobiles and the Eisenhower administration funding a new interstate highway system, trolley ridership declined sharply at same time the population of Missouri’s metropolitan areas grew. For example, in Kansas City ridership dropped from 130 million in 1947 to 121 million in 1948, 106 million in 1949, and 92 million in 1950.²⁰ In this same period, the population within the city limits of Kansas City grew from 399K in 1940 to 456K in 1950. Most cities expanded and changed faster than the fixed-route street railways could adapt. As passengers deserted public transportation for their automobiles, investors in public transportation abandoned streetcars for buses, looking for ways to reduce costs and reach riders in suburbs where streetcar tracks did not exist. Not only were buses less expensive to purchase and maintain, but companies also avoided the expense of maintaining the streets and bridges that previously they shared with the city. On June 23, 1957, Kansas City converted the last trolley line to bus service. The public streetcar lines in St. Louis ceased operation in May 1966.

Before many years passed, public interest in electric public transportation, now referred to as “light rail,” was revived, primarily driven by a desire to reduce pollution and road congestion. Thirty years after the last electric streetcar ceased operation in St. Louis, a new “MetroLink” light rail began service. It connects St. Louis Lambert International Airport to downtown St. Louis, Scott Air Force Base, Washington University, and Forest Park with 38 stations along two routes. It is currently the 11^th largest light-rail system in the country.

Kansas City, Missouri, too, responded to the desire for light rail by installing two miles of track from the River Market to Kansas City’s Union Station. Over 9.4 million riders have enjoyed the service since it launched in 2016. A 3.5-mile expansion from Union Station to the Country Club Plaza and the University of Missouri-Kansas City is scheduled to open in 2023. A third three-fourth mile route, planned for operation in 2025, will connect River Market to Berkley Park on the Missouri riverfront. Ridership along the entire route is free to the public. Financial analysts credit the streetcar with contributing one-quarter of the $1.8 billion in new investment along the streetcar route between 2013 and 2018. Proponents of the expansion of the light rail system believe the city will enjoy similar financial growth as other lines open to the public.²¹ Debates remain about for whom the streetcar is meant to serve, however, as it runs from the heavily financed River Market to the wealthy neighborhood of Brookside. With revitalization of city services such as the streetcar, we must always ask the question, “for whom are these services meant to serve?”

In the aftermath of the Civil War, Kansas City began to emerge as an important railroad hub. This was largely due to the completion of the construction of the Hannibal Bridge, the first railroad bridge across the Missouri River, in August of 1869. Urban Historian Charles Glaab observed that this first bridge, “has served as the city’s special symbol…the key to its success and a tribute to the bold resourcefulness of a small group of inspired city fathers.”¹ Boosters of Kansas City in the tension-filled decade prior to the outbreak of the Civil War, as well as in the chaotic postwar period, pushed for railroad construction as a means of building their community.² As a result of the completion of the Hannibal Bridge, Union Station’s predecessor, Union Depot, opened in Kansas City’s West Bottoms district in 1878. Over 180 trains passed through the depot daily. Union Depot’s location, however, quickly became a problem. While its site in the West Bottoms facilitated the transportation of cattle and other goods, the area was prone to flooding and the station was surrounded by “less desirable” landmarks such as gambling saloons and brothels.

The various issues with the West Bottoms location led city officials to decide to build a new train station in a new location. The station found its new home when twelve conjoining railroad companies committed to the project.³ The valley at 25th Street and Grand Avenue was chosen for the station due to its central location and high floodplain. Construction began in 1911, spearheaded by designer Jarvis Hunt, a trailblazer of the City Beautiful Movement.⁴ The building was designed in Beaux-Arts style with large arches throughout the grand hall to brightly illuminate the area. Other features included marble floors and ornate decoration. Construction took three years and heavily relied on the work of immigrants. Many Irish immigrants spent countless hours laying down railroad tracks and excavating the needed land. Without the help of immigrant labor, the station would not have been completed so swiftly.

Union Station opened on October 30, 1914. The 850,000 square footage building included nice floors of offices, a grand hall, ticketing stations, shops, and restaurants, including the Harvey House. The main headquarters for the Harvey House chain, which was founded by Leavenworth resident Fred Harvey and included restaurants and hotels along rail lines throughout the western United States, was located in Union Station.⁵ The building featured 95 foot high ceilings engraved with ornate moldings and showcased three chandeliers that weigh over 3,500 pounds. Three large arches defined the grand hall, with a grand central clock hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the station.  The clock was a prominent meeting point for both Kansas Citians and visitors. These spectacular architectural details are still on display today. The station boomed with the sounds of thousands of passengers and guests, peaking during World War I with 79,368 trains passing through the station. For instance, in one day, 271 trains journeyed through the station. Soon, it became the heart of railway transportation for the entire Midwest. During this time period, Union Station in Kansas City was the second busiest train station in the entire country, only after New York City.

Unfortunately, excitement for the popular station and its attractive architecture was quickly met with tragedy. On June 17, 1933, the station became the site of what became known as the Union Station Massacre. Two FBI agents and the chief of police from MacAlester, Oklahoma apprehended Frank Nash, an infamous bank robber with links to organized crime who had escaped from the United States Penitentiary in Leavenworth, Kansas, two and a half years earlier.  They transported him by train from Fort Smith, Arkansas to Kansas City, where they planned to turn him over to Reed E. Vetterli, the special agent in charge of the Kansas City FBI office.⁶ Kansas City policemen were present to reinforce them as they moved through the station and made the transfer. As the law officers loaded Nash into a waiting Chevrolet parked in front of the station, gangsters fired shots toward them in an attempt to free Nash. The suspected shooters included Charles “Pretty Boy Floyd” Arthur, Vernon Miller, and Adam Richetti.  Their attempt to free Nash failed when they killed him along with four law enforcement officers in the shootout. Gaining national attention, the incident led Congress to grant more protective power to the FBI.⁷ This resulted in the agency being permitted to carry protective firearms and make arrests.

Union Station became an important site during WWII. The station began to grow throughout this time as it was vital in Kansas City’s mobilization for war, just as it had during World War I. In 1945, passenger traffic hit a record 678,363 passengers as thousands of soldiers were traveling home from war.

The evolution of transportation in the postwar years shifted the role of Union Station. As air travel, the interstate highway system, and Americans’ love of owning cars became more prevalent and popular, railway travel began to decline. Similar to other train stations across the country, Kansas City’s Union Station lost its appeal and need. By 1973, only six trains operated, transporting about 32,842 passengers daily.⁸ With less foot traffic, retail shops and restaurants such as Fred Harvey Company, the Westport Room, and the Lobster Pot closed. In 1985, Amtrak ceased its services out of Union Station, ushering a period of decline and deterioration for the building.

In an effort to save the station, Kansas City officials partnered with Trizec, a Canadian firm, to redevelop the structure and the surrounding freight house area that was also facing decline. This proved to be unsuccessful, as Trizec made no meaningful improvements to Union Station. As the abandoned building continued to deteriorate, many advocated for its demolition. Union Station, a site that once represented the pride of Kansas City, became an “eyesore” in the city’s skyline.

Kansas Citians, however, did not give up on saving this once-thriving building. In order to save and redevelop Union Station, Kansas City approved a first of its kind, a “bi-state” tax which included five Missouri and Kansas counties in the Kansas City metropolitan area. This initiative raised funds for a $250 million renovation completed on November 10, 1999. The newly unveiled Union Station included shops, restaurants, theaters, exhibits, and Science City, which is a children’s science museum.⁹ Union Station has since hosted world-class exhibits, civic organization offices, live televised programs, and community events. The restoration of the building also attracted the railway company Amtrak to return and operate their routes through the station.

The history of Union Station provides a glimpse into Kansas City’s story as well as reflects national trends: a booming transportation hub, a city facing postwar urban decline, and recent revitalization efforts in cities across the United States. Union Station is beloved by Kansas Citians residents and has become a nationally recognized historic landmark and one of the defining sites of Kansas City. Today, Union Station still functions as one of the most utilized train stations in Missouri. Whether dropping off a loved one on their train departure to seeing a thrilling exhibit, everyone who steps into Union Station has a story of their time there, as did the millions before them.

Today, Washington University is among the world’s leading research universities. It has an operating budget of more than $3.5 billion, with more than 16,000 students and approximately 4,000 faculty among its seven schools.

At its founding, Washington University served students from St. Louis. Today, the university draws students and faculty to St. Louis from all 50 states: including the District of Columbia, Guam, Puerto Rico, and the Virgin Islands. This illustrates its visibility and impact internationally. Nearly 90 percent of first-year undergraduates are out of state students. There are more than 152,000 alumni that make a global impact in all sectors of society.

Once considered a “streetcar” college, the university evolved into a national university. Washington University maintains its commitment to St. Louis. For example, the university’s current chancellor, Andrew D. Martin, announced a bold new financial aid program his October 2019 inaugural address. This program will provide free undergraduate education and accept undergraduates with financial need from Missouri and southern Illinois. Chancellor Martin’s initiative, the WashU Pledge, reflects his commitment to advancing efforts to broaden educational access; this initiative will attempt to improve diversity, equity, and inclusion. WashU Pledge will strengthen the university’s partnerships in St. Louis and across the region. “By doing so, we’re attracting our very best and brightest and keeping them right here, close to home,” Chancellor Martin noted.

Recruiting talented students, faculty, and staff to Washington University and to St. Louis is a vital contribution to the region along with the scholarly, creative, and impactful work produced by students and faculty alike every day. Innovative, pathbreaking teaching and research take place every day at Washington University across a variety of disciplines. The university has a comprehensive undergraduate, graduate, and professional programs in a myriad of fields. These programs include architecture, arts and sciences, business, engineering, law, medicine and allied health, public health, and social work. The university is working to build a better world by educating and preparing more effective leaders with the knowledge, experience, and creativity to tackle complex problems and meet the world’s challenges.

The campus was originally located in downtown St. Louis. In 1905, due to the foresight of one of the university’s most impactful leaders, Robert S. Brookings, it moved to its current location at the western edge of Forest Park in 1905. Originally known as the Hilltop Campus, it is now called the Danforth Campus in recognition of the contributions of the late chancellor emeritus, William H. Danforth and his family.

The Medical Campus on the eastern edge of Forest Park has grown dramatically as well. Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis is committed to advancing global human health. The School of Medicine has been consistently ranked a top medical school for research. It is also a catalyst in St. Louis’s biotech and startup scene. The School of Medicine’s faculty has contributed many discoveries and innovations to science and medicine since the school’s founding in 1891. The school includes recognized innovators in science, medical education, health care policy, and global health. They treat patients and train new leaders in medicine at Barnes-Jewish and St. Louis Children’s hospitals; both ranked among the nation’s best hospitals and noted for excellence in care. The Siteman Cancer Center at the School of Medicine and Barnes-Jewish Hospital has been recognized as a top U.S. cancer institution.

Like William Greenleaf Eliot and Robert S. Brookings, William H. Danforth had a profound impact on the university. Danforth served as chancellor for 24 out of 65 years of service to Washington University. During his chancellorship from 1971 to 1995, Washington University grew in national and international recognition for its teaching and research, completing its transition from a local college to a national research university.

Under his successor, Chancellor Emeritus Mark S. Wrighton, the university made significant progress in student quality, campus improvements, resource development, curriculum, and international reputation. Accomplishments during his 24 years as chancellor include: a more than three-fold increase in undergraduate applications; more than 300 new endowed professorships for faculty; new programs in biomedical engineering, public health, and American culture studies; and completion of more than 50 new buildings and the redevelopment of the east end of the Danforth Campus.

In early 2021, Chancellor Martin, the university’s 15^th chancellor, launched an 18-month strategic planning process to develop a roadmap that will guide the university’s direction over the next decade. The university seeks to be bold, transformative, and collaborative as it considers its next steps, building upon the university’s already strong foundation.

As the university charts its course for the future, at the forefront are Chancellor Martin’s three foundational pillars; these include increasing the university’s academic distinction, educational access, and role and impact in St. Louis.

As he vowed in his inaugural address, “we must use our firm foundation as a foothold for future momentum as we continue our mission to be a place of distinction in education, research and patient care. … I believe we can continue to honor our past and build bridges to our thriving future.” These goals both honor the mission of the university’s founders and embrace the challenges of the 21^st century.

Beginning in 1682, France laid claim to the area of central North America which included the vast Mississippi River drainage basin. French colonists moved to the region near the confluence of the Mississippi, Missouri, and Ohio rivers in the latter half of the seventeenth century. French fur traders, trappers, farmers, and Jesuit missionaries came from France, French Canada, and New Orleans to Upper Louisiana (la Haute-Louisiane) or what was often called Illinois Country, an area which consisted of the present-day states of Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana.² Initially settling on the east bank of the Mississippi River in the first half of the eighteen century, the French slowly began to expand their settlement to the west bank of the Mississippi River as the population grew.³

The growth of French settlements in Upper Louisiana was largely made possible by the expansion of the fur trade. French colonists’ success in the fur trade was tied to their unique relationships with the Indigenous peoples of the area, which allowed fur traders to expand their trade networks far into the American interior. Once dismissed by American historian Fredrick Jackson Turner as insignificant to American westward expansion, more recently scholars have recognized French fur traders and trappers as integral to non-Indigenous settlement in Middle America.⁴ The French established trading posts such as St. Louis, Kawsmouth, and St. Joseph in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, which grew into thriving urban areas in later years.

In addition to the fur trade, French colonists established farms, aided in the spread of the Catholic religion, and worked to extract valuable natural resources such as lead. French settlement was initially concentrated on the eastern bank of the Mississippi River in communities such as Kaskaskia, Fort de Chartres, and Prairie du Rocher, in what is now the state of Illinois. During the early years of settlement, residents chose to live near military forts or trading depots for protection and their agricultural lands fanned out in long strips from these centralized settlements. French settlers raised livestock and grew grain products both for subsistence and sale to growing markets in Lower Louisiana. French settlements in Upper Louisiana were vital to the survival of the French Louisiana territory as a whole as it depended on agriculture to feed its growing population. The French also increased their involvement in the fur trade with Indigenous nations and searched for mineral resources to exploit. French settlers eventually expanded their operation west of the Mississippi River into what is now the state of Missouri. Founded in the 1730s, Ste. Genevieve was an example of such a settlement, becoming the first permanent French community west of the Mississippi River.⁵ Ste. Genevieve’s growth is attributed to settlers’ desire to move closer to the agricultural fields they established west of the river and to the lead mines they had established near current-day Potosi, Missouri.⁶

The French colonists in Upper Louisiana — and the enslaved people whose labor they exploited — made significant economic contributions to France’s colonial empire through agricultural production, lead extraction, and access to the lucrative fur trade business. Yet, France did not value Louisiana, particularly its northern reaches, as much as its sugar colonies in the West Indies. During the Seven Years War, France covertly offered French Louisiana, including the port of New Orleans, to Spain in payment for their military aid in the war against Great Britain.  The Treaty of Paris in 1763 resulted in the French ceding their territory east of the Mississippi River to the British in acknowledgement of their defeat. Spanish rule went into effect the following year west of the Mississippi River in Louisiana. Many French settlers vacated their lands in Illinois Country in what was now the British controlled territory east of the Mississippi for Spanish lands west of the river. French settlers thought their prospects would be better under Spanish control due to their shared Catholic faith and a belief they would better protect their rights and claims to the land.  French settlers’ reasoning proved sound. Although the Spanish colonial government officially ruled Louisiana for the next 40 years, there was never a large migration of Spanish settlers to the colony. The Spanish administrative structure was light handed and French colonists and cultural practices continued to dominate the colony.

During the colonial era, French settlements were home to a diverse population of both new and long-established residents — French, French Canadian, Indigenous, and African, who engaged in farming, trapping, and mining.⁷ The French sought to create a cohesive community among these diverse peoples through such mechanisms as a shared language, the practice of Catholicism, and the fur trade. During the eighteenth century, Indigenous Americans were the dominant group in Illinois Country. In response to their minority population, French settlers purposely cultivated business and governing alliances through trade relations and intermarriage with Indigenous peoples in the region. These often-reciprocal business and family connections promoted the expansion of French economic and political interests. One such example was the Chouteau family whose reciprocal relationship with the Osage allowed them to dominate the fur trade in the region and establish St. Louis as the primary trading outpost for the venture.⁸

French settlements were structured by a social hierarchy; at the top were Catholic missionaries, military officers, and wealthy traders. Conversely, enslaved people of African or Indigenous descent occupied the bottom tier of the social hierarchy. Soldiers, boatmen, hunters, trappers, and farmers occupied the middle ground between the two groups at either end of the social spectrum.⁹ A person’s place within the social structure was not always dictated by wealth, however. For example, in Ste. Genevieve, while the wealthy still sat at the top of the social structure, less affluent French families that persisted for long periods and were considered respectable.¹⁰

Enslaved Indigenous and African peoples played a prominent role in the social and economic structures of Upper Louisiana. Jesuit missionaries were the largest enslavers of African peoples in Illinois Country in the early eighteenth century,¹¹ but by the latter half of the eighteenth century, the trader elites owned the majority of enslaved people, both Indigenous and African.¹² Even though the governor of Spanish Louisiana, Alejandro O’Reilly, officially outlawed Native American slavery in 1769, the edict was never enforced and the colonists continued to enslave various groups of First Nation people into the early nineteenth century.¹³ The importation of enslaved Africans increased dramatically over the eighteenth century as both the French and Spanish colonial regimes encouraged the use of enslaved people to increase agricultural and mining production in the region.¹⁴

However, under both French and Spanish law, enslaved people were theoretically given some legal protections. Under the revised French Code Noir of 1724, while still defining enslaved people as property, the enslaved were also viewed as human beings that deserved certain rights. The code specified that enslavers needed to adequately provide for enslaved people’s religious, food, and clothing needs, while also outlawing torture and family separation. These requirements were difficult to enforce; therefore, compliance was usually left up to the conscience of individual enslavers. Although the law was not always followed in colonial Louisiana, according to the revision of the Code Noir by the Spanish in 1777, white people were not permitted to intermarry or engage in sexual relationships with enslaved men and women. As was the case in slavery systems, white enslavers frequently sexually exploited enslaved people, although there were a few interracial relationships that were long lasting and occasionally resulted in the freedom of enslaved individuals. Laws regarding manumission were more generous under the Code Noir. Some enslaved people were able to buy their own freedom, and, on some occasions, enslavers granted people their freedom. Emancipation was at the discretion of individual enslavers, however, as there were no fixed rules for the process. Overall, while the various “protections” for enslaved people were written into the law, there was no guarantee of enforcement of those protections.¹⁵

The law and custom allowed white women to enjoyed certain rights and some agency in determining their own lives in Upper Louisiana. In the eighteenth century, white men outnumbered white women by a significant degree in Ste. Genevieve and other French communities. French colonial women often married men over ten years their senior, resulting in significant age gaps between the parties. Because of this age disparity, women were more likely to be widowed and to remarry. Over time, some women accrued property and influence. Prenuptial contracts protected French women’s financial interests when they married.  Women often brought property into their marriages due to a douaire (dowery) or inheritance. Indeed, it was customary for French children to inherit their parents’ estates equally regardless of gender. Women could use these claims to financial assets as a means by which to protect property from their husbands’ debts and insolvency. At their husbands’ deaths, widows received the dower portion stipulated in the marriage contract as well as half of the couples’ joint property with the remainder divided among their children. Women without children were entitled to the entire estate. Widows frequently carried this property into subsequent marriages. Through these financial protections, French colonial women were able to maintain and manage their own property, which resulted in their ability to wield influence in their communities.¹⁶

French colonial women also demonstrated some agency within their marriages. French colonial men rarely worked in a single profession, instead they diversified their economic activities to guarantee their continued success in an ever-changing region. Their husbands were frequently absent from their families and households, no matter their economic situation. Wealthy men traveled for trade, diplomacy, and simply a desire to travel, while less wealthy men worked as soldiers, hunters, and boatmen. In their place, French wives acted as deputy husbands, given the power to act to protect business and family interests.¹⁷

The scarcity of white women in the colony encouraged white men to form sexual attachments with Black and Indigenous women. While many of these relationships were not consensual and were instead the result of an imbalanced power dynamics and even violence, there were some cases in which white men and Black or Indigenous women engaged in what might be described as common law marriages. Both parties understood the social and economic benefits of these partnerships. It was common for French men to forge economic and diplomatic relations with Indigenous people through marriages to Indigenous women. They also appreciated women’s domestic labor and fur processing skills. Some French men lived openly with their wives and children in French settlements, while other resided with their families upriver in the hunting grounds.  It also was not usual for French men to have both French and Indigenous wives and families.¹⁸

While most women of African descent during the colonial period, were impoverished and enslaved, in St. Louis there were cases of free Black women who owned property. In comparison to the British, the French and the Spanish had a more fluid understanding of race and were more tolerant of interracial relationships, especially in communities with uneven gender ratios. In some cases, French men even manumitted enslaved women with whom they shared long term relationships. A few Black women gained financial assets when their white partners put property in their names to legally protect it from the men’s creditors. Later, the women laid claim to the property when the relationships ended through voluntary separation or death. Eager to strengthen its presence in Upper Louisiana, the Spanish government was willing to grant land to petitioners, no matter their sex or race, also allowed some free Black women to acquire property. These exceptional women were part of a growing free Black community in St. Louis.¹⁹

Although the French lived in the region for over a century, these diverse colonial communities remained sparsely populated. In fact, there had been such limited migration to the region that the Spanish leaders of the colony started to recruit American settlers, including Daniel Boone and his family, to move to Upper Louisiana with promises of generous land grants, no taxes, and protections for slavery. After assuming power in 1800, Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte worked to restore France’s claims in Saint-Domingue (now Haiti) and North America.  He was able to successfully negotiate with the Spanish in secret for the return of Louisiana through the Treaty of San Ildefonso in 1802. Yet, French troops were unsuccessful in their attempts to regain control of Saint-Domingue from the free Black and formerly enslaved revolutionaries who had fought to liberate the colony from French rule beginning with an uprising in 1791. Napoleon ultimately decided to cut his losses and agreed to sell all of Louisiana to the United States for $15 million. The U.S. was initially interested in only purchasing the port of New Orleans but recognized the value of acquiring claims to the vast territory offered them. Through the Louisiana Purchase of 1803, the United States laid claim to the territory that soon after became the state of Missouri. In the following years, many of Missouri’s flourishing urban areas, such as St. Louis, Kansas City, and St. Joseph, were built on the foundations of the remarkable early French communities. The state’s French roots remain visible to this day though place names and historic artifacts left by these early Missouri settlers.²⁰

When forging trails and roads, humans and other animals typically take the path of least resistance. Early Missourians used the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers and their tributaries to traverse the state, but in order to travel through what we now know as the Ozarks, the trails that became the Old Wire Road were almost the only option. The original route was created by Indigenous Americans, predominately the Osage, who followed trails created by large game, along what is now known as the Ozarks Plateau. The first non-Indigenous people, such as Spanish explorers, French traders and trappers, and European American settlers from Kentucky and Tennessee, used these same trails to enter the Ozarks region. The trails also allowed these newcomers to extract and exploit the area’s many natural resources.¹

The trails were not entirely stable and were not always easy for travelers. Flooding and other natural events often forced changes in the route and travelers on foot encountered rugged terrain. Often, people who traveled the route had to cross multiple waterways along their way. Those on horseback had an easier time as they could move faster and were able to cross streams and rivers much more easily, although a trip along the trail was still quite arduous. The emergence of wagon use in Missouri necessitated the construction of better and more stable roads and the needs of the large vehicles often required taking a slightly different course than the original trails. The state government finally consolidated multiple trails into an official road in 1836, part of which is now the Old Wire Road.

The Old Wire Road also played a part in the forced removal of the Cherokee Nation from their ancestral lands in 1838. The Cherokee people were originally located in North and South Carolina, Georgia, and eastern Tennessee, but the United States government forced them to leave their homes and move to “Indian Territory” (present day Oklahoma). The Cherokee people were forced westward along a route now known as the “Trail of Tears.” The Cherokee entered Missouri near Cape Girardeau and traveled overland through Farmington and Potosi, eventually meeting up with The Old Wire Road in Rolla. Headed by federal guides called “conductors,” the Cherokee traveled roughly ten to fifteen miles each day on foot, in often brutal winter conditions. At least one fourth of the Cherokee Nation died as a result of this forced migration.²

In 1857, John Butterfield’s Overland Mail Company was awarded a federal contract to provide transportation of the mail from St. Louis, Missouri to San Francisco, California. The route that Butterfield developed and operated covered over 2,700 miles and used stagecoaches to move both mail and passengers starting in 1858 and ending in 1861, at the start of the Civil War.³ The Missouri portion of the route began in St. Louis, traveled west to Tipton, Missouri, by railroad, by road south to Springfield and Fort Smith, Arkansas, and then west to California. When the first telegraph line in Missouri was built in 1859, it utilized the same route. The road soon became known locally as the Old Wire Road because of the telegraph wires that were strung parallel to it.⁴

In 1859, construction began on the Central Division of the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. In order to take advantage of the natural resources of iron, lead, and oak, the railroad followed the corridor of the Wire Road from St. Louis to Springfield. By 1860, the railroad had reached Rolla, Missouri, and when the Civil War began in 1861, Rolla became a major supply depot for the Union Army; as people and supplies moved between St. Louis and Rolla via the railroad. The Union army installed a new telegraph line, paralleling the railroad tracks from St. Louis to Fort Smith. Travel from Rolla to Springfield continued by foot and wagon for another 12 years due to disruption in construction of the rail line as a result of the war.

During the war, the Old Wire Road was crucial to Union communication, troops, and supply routes between Jefferson Barracks in St. Louis and Fort Smith in Arkansas. Several pivotal battles were fought along the Wire Road, including Wilson’s Creek near Springfield in 1861, the Battle of Pea Ridge and the Battle of Prairie Grove in Northwest Arkansas in 1862, and the Battle of Springfield in 1863. In the aftermath of each battle, the sick and wounded were transported up the Wire Road to the General Hospitals in Springfield and St. Louis.⁵

Over time, the Old Wire Road has been called by many names – The Great Osage Trail, The St. Louis/ Springfield/ Fayetteville Road, Highway 14, and Route 66. The road’s most iconic moniker is the Old Wire Road, due to the telegraph lines that followed along it. In the nineteenth century, the telegraph was as innovative as the internet is today. It allowed for quicker communication for news, business, personal messages, and train arrival times. The route is still often referred to locally as the Old Wire Road, even though today I-44 is the U.S. Department of Transportation’s official name for it on the map.⁶ Although the interstate does not take the exact route of the Old Wire Road, the highway continues to follow the railroad line from St. Louis to Springfield, connecting towns along the way and playing an important role in Missouri’s history.

Lindbergh was born in Detroit, Michigan, to Charles August Lindbergh (1859-1924) and Evangeline Lodge Land Lindbergh (1876-1954). The couple separated after his birth, and Lindbergh spent most of his childhood moving between Little Falls, Michigan, and Washington D.C. His father often created tests to develop Lindbergh’s moral and physical strength and to teach him self-reliance and personal discipline; characteristics that would prove essential to his career as a skilled pilot.¹ His mother, a schoolteacher, encouraged these same traits, as well as cultivated a strong interest in science and its applications.² Lindbergh worked as a farmer in Minnesota as he entered adulthood. Later, he decided he wanted a career “in which his work with machines was not constantly interrupted, as it was with farming, by long stretches of dull physical labor.”³ This desire pushed him to enter the University of Wisconsin–Madison as an engineering major in 1920.

Lindbergh intended to earn his degree and become an airplane pilot; however, college life did not suit him, and he dropped out to enroll at the Nebraska Aircraft Corporation’s flying school in Lincoln. While at Nebraska Aircraft Corporation, Charles worked as a barnstormer⁴ and airplane mechanic to gain experience and earn tuition. After a year of barnstorming, he joined the United States Army Air Service in 1924 to receive more detailed training and graduated at the top of his class a year later. The Army did not need many active-duty pilots after the end of WWI, however, so Lindbergh returned to civilian aviation. He was hired by the Robertson Aircraft Corporation, headquartered in St. Louis, as chief pilot on the new CAM-2 contract airmail route. Lindbergh’s role as a chief pilot provided ample experience for his famous transatlantic flight.⁵ While waiting for the negotiation of his job, he worked as a barnstormer and flight instructor and continued to do part-time military flying as a reserve officer in the 110th Observation Squadron of the Missouri National Guard, stationed in St. Louis.⁶

The strong presence of the developing aviation industry in pre-Lindbergh St. Louis resulted from multiple factors. The city was a major manufacturing center due to its access to rail and water transportation, as well as its central geographical location.⁷ It was also home to Scott Field (now Scott Air Force Base), which had been used to train WWI balloonists, as well as Lambert Field, which was a hub of air traffic after hosting the 1923 Air Races.⁸ It was in this growing aviation community that Lindbergh learned of a $25,000 prize offered by Raymond Orteig to the first pilot to fly nonstop from New York to Paris. Orteig, a French immigrant, and wealthy hotel owner loved aviation and believed that his patronage would create the next great aerial spectacle.⁹ Lindbergh convinced nine St. Louis businessmen to finance his attempt to secure the prize money. Unable to buy a suitable pre-made plane, the group partnered with the Ryan Aircraft Company of San Diego to build a custom model, which was designed jointly by Lindbergh and Ryan’s chief engineer. Lindbergh named the plane the Spirit of St. Louis in honor of his sponsors’ hometown.¹⁰

From May 20^th through the 21^st, Lindbergh completed his successful transatlantic flight. This flight catapulted him into the international spotlight and is often seen as “the first incarnation of media-driven celebrity in the twentieth century.”¹¹ Thanks to the press, his face and accomplishment was spread across the globe, making him the star of countless parades and parties wherever he traveled, both in the U.S. and internationally. Lindbergh, at first, “acquiesced to this popular mania… deciding to exploit his unique status” to further causes he believed in, such as aviation and American isolationism.¹² His fame contributed to the “Lindbergh Boom” of aviation, and his ideas regarding commercial passenger transportation “became the standard for aviation in the United States and, subsequently, around the world;” Lindbergh even helped design the modern airport.[enf_note]Berg, 189.[/efn_note] However, his prominence was not something Lindbergh enjoyed and it proved to be a double-edged sword. This was evidenced in the infamous kidnapping and death of his son, Charles A. Lindbergh Jr. Additionally, his struggles with Franklin Delano Roosevelt would cast long shadows over his life, leaving scars that Lindbergh struggled with for the rest of his life.

Despite his personal struggles, Lindbergh’s promise that his success “would be a terrific boost for St. Louis… whose stature would shine with a nonstop transatlantic flight” was also proven true.¹³ Lambert Field (renamed the St. Louis Lambert International Airport in 1971) became a major flight hub for civilian and military aircraft.¹⁴ Various airlines, including McDonnell Douglas (later Boeing), TWA (Lindbergh served as chairman of their technical committee), and American Airlines all used St. Louis as an important hub in their operations because of its central location and newfound prominence in the industry. Later controversies, including his praise of the Nazi air force after a tour of aviation facilities in Germany and white supremacist beliefs, resulted in the inevitable fall of Lindbergh’s prestige, but the boost he provided to commercial aviation had a positive impact on modern aviation development.

Charles Lindbergh’s legacy is complicated by his argument for American neutrality in the lead up to WWII and his support for white supremacy, but his role in aviation and its evolution is undisputed. In a time in which aviation was still a dangerous occupation, Lindbergh’s seemingly impossible achievement gave incredible power to the aviation industry of St. Louis, transforming it into an international hub of commercial flight. Today, the St. Louis Lambert International Airport is the largest and busiest airport in Missouri and hosts millions of passengers each year. It is a testament to Charles Lindbergh’s vision, and a tangible reminder of the strength of the determination and human spirit he displayed when he and the Spirit of St. Louis made their mark on history.

One such traveler, future governor Meredith Miles Marmaduke, detailed his 1824 expedition along the trail in journal entries, which the Missouri Intelligencer reprinted. The caravan was the largest yet to follow this route and comprised 81 people, which consisted  of white traders and enslaved people, more than 150 mules and horses, and nearly two dozen wagons.² After camping in Franklin, Missouri to prepare for the journey West, the caravan traveled to Blue Springs along the Missionary Road, a path likely forged in 1821 by missionaries sent in an attempt to convert to the Osage peoples. From there the group traveled into largely unmapped territories of the West. Among the challenges faced during their two-month long trip were the roaming buffalo who repeatedly frightened away the caravan’s horses, and a desperate paucity of water, which led to the deaths of other livestock.

The party arrived in Santa Fe with about $30,000 in trade goods, which likely included brightly colored clothing and fabrics, jewelry, sewing pins, and hand mirrors.³ William Becknell observed that New Mexican consumers preferred merchandise of considerable quality. However, Marmaduke worried that due to systemic conditions, many customers of Mexican descent in the region suffered from poverty. Therefore, Marmaduke was concerned that this could prevent traders from moving their goods at a profit.⁴ However, such ventures, nonetheless proved so lucrative that some American agents tried to warn away potential rivals back home lest an excess of sellers harm their own prospects. The silver coin that merchants brought back to Missouri helped to stabilize the fluctuations of a frontier economy in which specie often ran short. In addition, Missouri farmers were eager customers of the mules purchased in New Mexico. These reliable and versatile draft animals, which were a cross between a female horse and a male donkey, became an important Santa Fe Trade trade commodity.⁵

The trade’s growing profitability caught the eye of a famous Missourian, U.S. Senator Thomas Hart Benton, who saw that Missouri’s strategic location made it a valuable gateway to the West. Anyone who wished to journey the Santa Fe Trail had to start in Missouri. Aided by Missouri trader Augustus Storrs, Senator Benton was a key component in sponsoring legislation to mark a road to Santa Fe. Storrs previously traveled the route in 1823. Benton and Storrs were also assisted by Alphonso Wetmore, a paymaster stationed in Franklin, the small town where the trail originally began.⁶ Once the bill passed through Congress, three commissioners oversaw the surveys of the road: Benjamin H. Reeves, Colonel Pierre Menard, and George C. Sibley.⁷ The men hired Joseph Cromwell Brown, an experienced surveyor who had been responsible for determining several key meridians and state boundaries in the past. In 1825, Brown began work charting out the Santa Fe Trail and produced a map spanning the entire length of the route later that year.⁸

The town of Franklin became an important trade center from 1822 to 1826, a marketplace where traders could buy merchandise at 20 to 30 percent above the prices in Philadelphia and take them to Santa Fe for a profit of 40 to 100 percent. Such bright prospects drew many people to the area near Franklin, but a series of floods through 1826 shifted the course of the Missouri River, which soon washed away the town altogether. Later, the town of Independence in western Missouri replaced Franklin as the starting point of the Santa Fe Trail.⁹ As the Santa Fe trade prospered in the subsequent decades, steamboat traffic increased significantly on the Missouri, Mississippi, and Ohio Rivers; goods brought up from New Mexico via the trail moved eastward to St. Louis and beyond. There were also Mexican traders who traveled the Santa Fe Trail in reverse to buy American goods from sellers in Missouri.¹⁰

However, the prosperity of the Santa Fe Trail did not last. After Mexico gained its independence from Spain in 1821, years of political instability followed. Albino Perez, the federally appointed governor of New Mexico, became increasingly unpopular after he imposed sharper regulations on trade within the province, including on the Santa Fe Trail. Widespread anger among the people of the area erupted into an uprising known as the 1837 Chimayo Rebellion. The rebellion resulted in the killing of the governor, but collapsed the following January. The Santa Fe trade soon shrank to levels witnessed in decades prior to 1821. The Trail assumed renewed importance with the outbreak of the Mexican-American War, which served as a vital corridor for the Army of the West and later represented an important link between the United States and the southwestern territories acquired in the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo.¹¹

Several factors contributed to the decline of the Santa Fe Trail in the early 1840s. The Oregon and California trails commanded greater attention and siphoned away some of the people and wealth that poured into the West. The emergence of mines in Colorado and Nevada reduced the demand for Mexican silver, and several Americans–many of them in Missouri–began to breed mules that were superior in functionality. Heightened dangers threatened the fewer numbers of traders who continued to use the Trail.¹² The fear of attacks by Indigenous raiders was a concern by the white traders. Additionally, during the Civil War, there was a legitimate concern by traders of small bands of Confederate guerrillas, as they attacked Independence and other provisioning towns in Missouri for political and economic reasons. Traders moved as many as 50 million pounds of freight along the Trail in 1865, yet by this time, the Trail had become nearly out of use.¹³ Soon, railroads spanned across the trans-Missouri West and took most of the region’s traffic with them. Once the first trains reached New Mexico in 1880, the Santa Fe Trail finally became obsolete.¹⁴

Advocating for Statehood

Missouri newspapers first demonstrated their powerful influence during the path to statehood. In 1817, the Gazette published a petition submitted by citizens to Congress, hoping to establish what would become Missouri’s borders. Many newspapers strongly supported the territory becoming a state and urged Missouri citizens to demand representation in Washington, D.C. Others provided a glimpse at the sectional politics that eventually resulted in the Civil War. The controversy surrounding Missouri’s statehood was centered on slavery and if the predominantly pro-slavery population of the new state would be allowed to continue the barbarous practice of owning humans. In 1821, the central Missouri city of Franklin’s Missouri Intelligencer published an article celebrating the territory’s “prospective” entrance into the Union. Citing the admittance and the view that states should get to decide the fate of slavery on their own terms, the article declared, “we consider ourselves rescued from the hands of our Eastern Friends in a manner to us satisfactory, to them disgraceful.”²

In the decades following statehood, Missouri experienced rapid expansion in publishing. Before the mid-1840s, newspapers across the state were plagued by timely access to current news and often included stories copied from other publications, written lectures, and poetry. However, with the invention of the telegraph in 1847, papers became increasingly focused on current news events, as they provided more up-to-date information to readers. A boom in the number of people living in the state and technological innovation resulted in a large growth of publishing newsworthy information in Missouri. The population had grown from around 65,000 in 1820 to almost 1.2 million by 1860, and the number of newspapers increased with it, growing from 5 to 148.³ The expansion of publications connected Missourians to regional, national, and even international news. In Clay County, the Liberty Tribune began its 171-year run in 1846. The first year of printing included articles about the Mexican American War, as Colonel John Hughes sent letters to Liberty, Missouri that covered the conflict.⁴

During Missouri’s early statehood, newspapers were heavily biased. They were often the organs of political parties that vied for power and influence. Throughout the first half of the nineteenth century, parties like the Whigs, Democrats, and Republicans were not legally recognized by the government and lacked institutional structure. As historian Jeffrey Pasley describes, parties had little staffing and day-to-day management. Political factions also had no formal way to communicate about the latest issues being debated around the country; thus, partisan newspapers stepped in. Local newspapers were established by parties and became their voice on the ground, connecting voters, holding the party together between elections, and communicating its stance on regional and national issues.⁵ By the Civil War, political parties had become more organized, but the stances of newspapers continued to hold great influence among their readers.

Politicizing Newspapers

The onset of the Civil War resulted in many newspapers intensifying their political voice and expressing their opinions about where Missouri should fall in the North-South conflict. The St. Louis Globe-Democrat, the only major pro-Union newspaper in a slave or border state, was influential in preventing Missouri from seceding. The publication first began printing in 1852, holding a pro-Republican stance in its early years and later flourishing as a gateway of information between Washington D.C. and the developing West.⁶ During the war, President Lincoln recognized the power of the Globe-Democrat, famously stating that the newspaper was worth ten regiments of Union troops.⁷ Other publications followed the Globe’s lead, like the Osage Valley Star, which expressed a pro-Union slant throughout the war. There were a few newspapers that took an opposing stance. The St. Louis Bulletin, one of the most notable pro-Confederate publications, advocated for secession and the preservation of slavery. However, the Federal army’s presence in Missouri soon brought an end to all anti-Union publishing. Throughout the war, Lincoln worked to suppress newspapers in Union controlled areas that supported the Confederacy, as his administration claimed that these actions were militarily necessary. In Missouri, Lincoln gave his commanders ample leeway in establishing press suppression policies, as they tried to influence coverage of the war and prevent publication of newspapers that spoke ill of the Union.⁸ Censorship left the press to debate the politics of loyalty. Staunch Unionist newspapers like the Globe-Democrat advocated for a full commitment to the US federal government, putting country over the state, adopting the values that made St. Louis a pro-Union stronghold. Many pro-slavery publications also supported the Union, but with much less vigor, as their loyalty was contingent on Missouri remaining a slave state at the end of the war.⁹

German Language Newspapers

German language newspapers emerged as some of the strongest supporters of the Union.  Missouri has a long history of non-English speaking newspapers that correlates back to the large number of German immigrants who flocked to the state in the early 1800s. German immigrants began moving to Missouri in vast numbers during the 1820s, following the publication of Gottfried Duden’s widely read A Report on a Journey to the Western States of North America. Duden was a German writer, and his book highlighted the new state as a particularly promising destination for immigrants. German-language newspapers played a critical role in these communities, helping immigrants protect their linguistic and cultural identities and form a sense of community. German immigrants and their American born descendants who wrote in these papers were often outspoken in their disdain for slavery. This was exemplified by one of the earliest German publications, the Licht-Freund, which began printing out of Hermann, Missouri in 1840 and advocated for the abolition of slavery. Although Missouri Germans were diverse in their political and religious beliefs, ranging from radical ‘48ers who supported the European revolutions of 1848, to the religiously conservative Saxon Lutherans, most German immigrants in Missouri adopted an antislavery stance. Many German immigrants joined Unionists groups in the state during the Civil War. American-born Missourians often viewed German immigrants as outsiders and some even discriminated against them, but despite this, a majority in the German community were forthright in their loyalty to the US. As the slavery debate raged in the border state, many fought for the Union. Following the Civil War, German-language newspapers continued to flourish for decades in cities like Jefferson City, Booneville, and St. Charles. However, the 1910s saw the forced collapse of the German-language press in the state. The advent of World War I resulted in a strong disdain for German American heritage across the country and increased concerns about their loyalty in the war against Germany, which caused the shuttering of numerous newspapers in Missouri.¹⁰

Newspaper Consolidation

In the second half of the nineteenth century, Missouri witnessed the founding and merging of some of its most prominent newspapers. Publications in cities such as Kansas City, St. Louis, and Springfield, emerged as the dominant newspapers in each urban area. The Springfield News-Leader printed its first edition on April 4, 1867, with O.H. Fahnestock acting as the paper’s first publisher. In 1947, a fire destroyed much of the mechanical plant where the paper was printed, resulting in a major adjustment to its production location, as the News-Leader was printed in Tulsa, Oklahoma and trucked to Springfield every day for months until a new plant was completed in 1948. The paper outlasted that inferno, mergers, and Depression-era financial struggles, and continues to publish daily editions. Today, the News-Leader still serves as the preeminent newspaper for the state’s third largest city and the wider Ozark region.¹¹

In 1878, Joseph Pulitzer purchased the 15-year-old Dispatch and merged it with the Post to form the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.¹² The paper quickly took on Pulitzer’s progressive attitude, fighting for reform and justice. The Post-Dispatch officially embraced these values in 1907 when Pulitzer wrote “The Platform.” Similar to those adopted by political parties, “The Platform” acted as a moral guide for journalists working at the paper in its early years and is still embraced today. It makes a commitment to “the public welfare” and “never being afraid to attack wrong,” which resulted in journalists promoting racial justice and women’s rights in the early twentieth century. “The Platform” also gave Pulitzer and the paper an ethical foundation as they challenged powerful institutions. This included clergy in St. Louis who were pushing for prohibition and even President Theodore Roosevelt, who was exposed for corruption relating to the Panama Canal.¹³

The Kansas City Star was first printed in 1880, with the name alluded to in its evening publication schedule. Early versions of the paper faced competition from the Times and Journal in the morning and the Mail in the afternoon. Issues were available for two cents a copy and focused on local events. William Rockhill Nelson, one of its two founders, saw the Star as a chance to profit and make a difference. The paper soon began campaigning for improvements such as municipal parks and a boulevard system. Nelson bought the Kansas City Times in 1901, creating a news empire that he labeled the “24-hour Star.” That 24-hour cycle allowed the paper, and Nelson, to dominate the region politically, and would continue until the Star became a morning-only daily in 1990.¹⁴

Black Owned Newspapers

Though the Post-Dispatch and Star took over the press in Missouri’s two largest cities, they often lacked coverage of the state’s Black communities. Thus, African American newspapers stepped in. Since the nineteenth century, Black Missourians have published their own newspapers. For instance, Advance and Welcome Friend operated out of St. Louis in the 1870s and 1880s and served the state’s growing Black population. Black newspapers covered local and national news that was relevant to African American communities and featured advertisements for Black businesses. The newspapers were often published in predominantly Black neighborhoods. For example, in 1919 Chester Arthur Franklin founded The Call, which was established in, and still operates out of Kansas City’s 18^th and Vine District. African American papers did not exist only in Kansas City and St. Louis, however. During the first half of the twentieth century, newspapers such as The Searchlight, Southeast Missouri World, and the Home Protective Record were prominent in Sedalia, Sikeston, and Hannibal. In an era in which white newspapers typically neglected to report on news in the growing Black communities and often perpetuated racist stereotypes when they did, Black publications served a valuable purpose for Missouri’s Black communities. Today, The Call, the St. Louis American, and other African American newspapers carry on that legacy of amplifying the voices of Black communities in Missouri.¹⁵

Newspapers as Facilitators of Change

Newspapers of all kinds, white and Black, held a critical place in conversations happening in Missouri during the twentieth century. They played a major role in the day-to-day lives of Missourians, providing important and timely news updates for their readers. Debates over national matters such as the fight for Black civil rights played out in small towns and major metropolitan areas across the state. Thus, newspapers were central to shaping public opinion. The Civil Rights Movement was in full force in the early 1960s and activists spoke out and took action in many American cities. One of the most significant events in St. Louis was the Jefferson Bank demonstration, where protesters marched outside of the financial institution hoping to gain attention for ongoing labor disputes. Numerous St. Louis newspapers covered the protest, and columnists debated the effectiveness and validity of the demonstration. Coverage varied based on if it was a white or Black owned newspaper. For example, an editorial in the Post-Dispatch from October 25, 1963, called for an end to the protests in the name of “public peace and progress.” While in the same month, the American took the opposite stance and supported the actions of the civil rights protesters, saying, “let the solemn picketing continue.”¹⁶

Throughout the twentieth century, newspapers have played a vital role within Missouri municipalities and hundreds of publications operated in the state. Although nightly television news and later twenty-four-hour cable news broadcasts gave Missourians other outlets to gather information, local newspapers still served as reliable institutions in cities and small towns. Missouri newspapers maintained a continued significance to their communities. This is evidenced by the natural disaster in Joplin, Missouri in 2011.  An F-5 tornado ripped through the city, and the Joplin Globe acted fast. Staff of the Joplin Globe continued to go to work, even after some lost their homes, as they understood the responsibility they had to their community. The next day’s paper was only an hour late off the presses, as journalists at the Globe helped the city digest the disaster immediately after and for weeks to come.¹⁷

Print Newspapers on the Decline

Over the last twenty years, the expansion of high-speed internet has led to a decline in newspaper publication across the United States. Many people now get their news from social media and other online sources. Advertisers, once the backbone of the newspaper industry, have turned their attention from print to digital. This new reality has not passed over Missouri. According to the University of North Carolina, there were 256 newspapers published in Missouri in 2004 and as of 2019, that number dropped to 220. There has also been a 25 percent decrease in newspaper circulation across the state from 2004 to 2019 and it now has fifty-three counties with a single paper.¹⁸ Even with a decrease in publication, newspapers continue to publish for the people of Missouri, as they have done for two centuries. Those like the Liberty Tribune, Kirksville Daily Express, and Marshall Democrat News have served a local purpose, while others like the St. Louis Post-Dispatch gained national acclaim. The Kansas City Hispanic News, Kansas City Call, St. Louis American, and Red Latina provides coverage for underrepresented groups such as Black and Latinx Missourians. Similarly, Il Pensiero helps many St. Louisans stay connected to their Italian heritage. Even as the news landscape changes, newspapers continue to hold an important place in the culture and conversations happening around the Show Me State. Missouri has demonstrated a proud history of journalism and acts as a portal into the past and a foothold for future newspapers throughout Missouri.