What comes next for Kansas’ historic Quindaro Ruins after political penalizing

Photo by Chase Castor

On the south banks of the Missouri River in Wyandotte County lie the Quindaro Ruins, crumbling remnants of the once thriving abolitionist townsite and key stop along the Underground Railroad.

Founded by abolitionists in 1850 during Bleeding Kansas, Quindaro would operate the only port on its stretch of the Missouri not controlled by Southern sympathizers.

Though the boom town only lasted for six years, it would house and protect many freedom seekers on their way north to states such as Nebraska and Iowa. In its place today, visitors will find the Quindaro Ruins Archeological Park where N 27th Street meets the Missouri River.

Gordon Criswell, treasurer of the Quindaro Ruins Board, says the Quindaro Ruins are one of the top requested historical site tours and KCK. The site was finally placed on the National Register of Historic Places in May 2022.

Despite significant support and interest, the Quindaro Ruins and nearby Quindaro Underground Railroad Museum continue to fall short in funding and sustainable organization structure that would capitalize on the site’s historical significance and make it the landmark community destination it should be.

For years, advocates have struggled to obtain funds for the preservation of the ruins. In May, what should have been a glimmer of hope for the future of Quindaro—a $250,000 provision for Quindaro Ruins Archaeological Park—turned out to be a political pawn for feuding Kansas politicians.

The proviso was added to the state budget bill by Republicans and struck down by Democrat Governor Kelly before anyone on the Board of Quindaro Ruins was aware of the proposed allocation.

Some are calling it political punishment, retribution aimed at Democrat Rep. Marvin Robinson for overriding Kelly’s veto of a transgender athlete ban for K-12 schools and colleges. But while Wyandotte County’s historical treasure gets hit back and forth like a political tennis ball, advocates dedicate their lives—and even sometimes personal funds—to Quindaro. Criswell says he only found out about the axed funding through reading the news.

“The board ought to have been made aware of that opportunity so that we can understand what the process of appropriating the money was,” Criswell says. “I don’t have an opinion on whether or not it was retribution or payback. And you know what, I don’t care.”

The ruins have no visitor’s center, lack interpretive signs, and its overgrown trails are closed to the public without a booked tour in advance. The Quindaro

Luther Smith, in the Quindaro Underground Railroad Museum he curates and runs. The museum is housed in the old Veron School which closed in the ’70s, the numbers in the background have been hanging above the chalboard since the school’s closure. // Photo by Chase Castor.

Underground Railroad Museum, which is housed in the old Vernon School, is also solely open for tours by appointment only—most of which are led by the volunteer director of the museum, Luther Smith.

Occupying two classrooms of the former school for African American children in the abolitionist community of Quindaro, the museum was solely curated by Smith, a retired local of the area. Smith estimates he’s put in around $3,000 of his own funds toward the upkeep of the museum, which is just a few blocks away from the house he was born and raised in.

According to Criswell, there is no shortage of advocates for Quindaro Ruins and its restoration efforts. Plenty of individuals and groups acknowledge the site’s historical significance and advocate for funding, including residents, local non-profits, the State Historical Society, the National Park Service, and even congressional partners.

“Quite frankly, the restoration of the Quindaro ruins could really be game-changing,” Criswell says. “It could be game-changing for the northeast part of Wyandotte County, which is primarily African American and overwhelmingly poor.”

The site has garnered congressional support over the years on both sides of the state line and across political parties, with Criswell naming previous congressman Kevin Yoder (R-KS 3rd District) and Emmanual Cleaver (D-MO 5th District) as examples. Smith mentioned vocal support Quindaro received from former senator Pat Roberts (R-KS) and current senator Jerry Moran (R-KS).

But when it comes to action, there seems to be no one willing to take the reins.

“The Democrats and the Republicans—neither one of them are doing crap about it,” Smith says. “They’ve just got to do better.”

Luther and Criswell cited a similar explanation as to why Quindaro keeps falling through the cracks. Luther stressed the need for a better organizational structure, including a CEO, project manager, and grant writers, to name a few necessities. Funding, of course, is vital to accomplishing any of this—and also to building a visitors center, keeping sites open for regular hours, putting artifacts behind glass, and repairing and updating the old Vernon school.

Smith, who has been director of the Quindaro Underground Railroad Museum during his retirement years since 2008, offers the thought that he can be assigned some blame for not being persistent enough when advocating for funding. Though Smith framed nearly every poster and image on the walls of the old classrooms where the museum is housed and arrives most days to tend to the museum and give tours. He arranged all the artifacts, unboxing many that were packed away when he was offered the job in 2008—the job which he was under the impression would pay him a sum for his work. He doesn’t get paid a dime.

He’s not upset about it though, as he says Quindaro has been a part of him his entire life. He was born in a house just down the road, and his own family memorabilia is featured in the museum—including a typewriter and old family portraits.

“I really want people to know the history of Quindaro,” Smith says. “A lot of people come through here from all over the earth—Canada, Houston, you name it. There have been people from overseas, like Germany and different places over there.”

While the ruins continue to grasp at funds—oftentimes to no avail—the museum has been blessed with one turn of luck through a grant from the National Parks Service, Smith says. After applying for four grants, Smith says they were awarded just one that would go toward fixing up the school—the necessities such as replacing boarded-up windows, checking wiring, and replacing the roof.

“You see all those windows boarded up, well we’re even going to put in new windows as soon as the National Park Service turns their money loose,” Smith says. “I want to make this like a new building.”

He says they’ve been waiting a year now for the grant to be approved by the government.

In the meantime, the ruins and relics of the past in the old Vernon School remain partially encapsulated and disparaged by petty political strife.

“There are a lot of folks who have connections,” Criswell says. “And a lot of folks who claim to be in charge, but no one’s in charge.”