Kansas... Kansas...so funny. After hearing a variety of opinions of it, Thomas and I went and took pictures to try to capture the spirit of Kansas, but I don't feel that photo essays are my gift. Let's see....imagine this....as you leave the interstate and drive towards Leavenworth on a sunny July day, you wind your way down a 2 lane road through fields of corn which bring to mind "South Pacific" and the line "I'm as corny as Kansas in August..." Past Victorian houses on 10 acres of land backed by woods and mountains and over the train tracks where you've just heard the Atchison-Topeka-Santa Fe engine blow its horn as it pulled 72 cars of oil by--as counted by your enthusiastic 6 year old. You wind back and forth between Missouri and Kansas, crossing and recrossing the Platte River, until you finally drive over a blue trestle bridge and see the gate for Ft. Leavenworth on your right.
To the left, only a few blocks away is the epicenter of the First City in Kansas. It has a downtown of about 3 streets by 5 and then it begins to spread into older housing until finally, far enough off not to ruin the charm, newer housing.
On post, some sage has decided to renovate old housing instead of razing it and starting over. This means that your paint-is-still-wet-duplex-made-over-into-five-bedroom-and-office-large-family house sits on a cul-de-sac surrounded by enough big trees to support multiple swings. When you step out for a family walk each evening, paved walking trails invite you to roam towards the commissary, past the cemetery or even through a little wilderness which leads towards the prison with the field of bison in front of it.
Yes, there are the obligatory tattoo parlors in town with signs like "Prison City Tattoo" in western font, but there is also the diner with its name emblazoned in the same style. In this converted train station you can still experience a bit of history from signs for the men's and women's waiting rooms and where the ticket counter was located.
Less than a mile from my house I have stopped my bike to watch deer nurse their fawns, and I have ridden my bike through enough grasshoppers to get a pretty good idea of what the Ingall's experienced in Plum Creek. The streets here are crawling with children--sometimes with crawling children--and they are all friends since EVERY ONE OF THEM moved in during the same week. Now that winter has arrived, the slopes on the far side of the field known as your back yard are a popular hangout for sledders while the front yard is best for snowball fights.
The pace is confortable, even an hour away in Kansas City where they have not yet discovered that daily parking at the museum can't be paid for on the honor system. There is a very nice shopping district close by--about 45 min drive--and the parking is free except where the parking meters collect change for charity. There are still free nature centers and art museums and history galore. In many ways, it's not so much different from DC. But there are very few cars on the road, always plenty of room for a big van to park, and fewer homeless people.
Think what you like. We see it as the Army's best hometown.
