Kansas City ponders what might have been as Cleveland opens its doors to GOP

Yes, Kansas City, this might have been you.

Thousands of Republican delegates might have been eating and drinking in the Power & Light District today. Eight-foot-high fencing might have enclosed 2 square miles downtown. Bomb-sniffing dogs might be sharing space with protesters and police.

Kansas City, you were this close to hosting the Republican National Convention that now belongs to Cleveland.

Local convention delegates, and those who worked to bring the convention to Kansas City two years ago, admit to a twinge of regret that this week’s party is on Lake Erie, not the Missouri River. Kansas City is missing out on publicity, hotel revenue, a busy airport — excitement.

Surprisingly, though, most Kansas Citians and delegates said this week the community may have dodged a very messy spitball when it lost the convention race in 2014.

“I’m sure Cleveland is well-prepared,” said Jon Stephens, an organizer of Kansas City’s convention bid two years ago. “But no one could have anticipated the bevy of issues that have come out since the bid process.”

Topping those issues: Donald Trump, the presumptive GOP nominee. Trump’s campaign has prompted protests in virtually every community where he stops — in March, Kansas City police used pepper spray to disperse an anti-Trump crowd.

Cleveland has already seen its share of marches and sit-ins related to the meeting. More are expected this week.

But Trump’s candidacy caused another problem. Several large corporate sponsors pulled their support from the convention, leaving Cleveland — as of last week — $6 million short of its promised commitment to the convention.

City officials are now scrambling to cover that gap. And that, too, could have been Kansas City.

“It costs a lot of money,” said U.S. Rep. Sam Graves, a Missouri Republican and a convention delegate who worked to bring the convention to Missouri. “It brings a lot of people to a community, but in other ways it’s very frustrating.”

Cleveland has had help, of course. The federal government provided $50 million for additional equipment and personnel costs, money used to supplement the city’s police department. And outside donors may yet make up the host committee’s shortfall.

Those expenditures appear to have helped, at least so far. Protests have largely been peaceful, through Monday, and security measures appeared tight but not overbearing.

The sort of security checkpoints that at past conventions typically posed an hour’s wait were processing delegates and reporters in a fraction of that time during midday hours Monday.

“My first thought was I’m kind of happy this isn’t us in Kansas City, because of all the security issues,” said Kay Hoflander, a Missouri delegate from Higginsville. But Sunday night “showcased Cleveland very well. I think the host committee’s done an excellent job.”

Parking downtown was also simple and cheap Monday — a sign that in Cleveland, as in other convention cities, many natives take the week off.

Hotel workers said they were surprised at the lack of a crush over the weekend, and some restaurants appeared less busy than predicted.

Other challenges were more obvious. Missouri delegates, for example, are staying in Fairlawn, Ohio, a 40-minute drive from downtown Cleveland. The distance caused some grumbling among delegates, who must endure long bus rides to and from the convention each day.

The California delegation is in Sandusky, Ohio — about the same distance from Cleveland as St. Joseph is from Kansas City.

But Kansas City would have likely faced a similar problem. The lack of close-in hotel space was one of the city’s biggest challenges in its convention proposal.

“It’s going to be crazy anywhere it’s held,” said Alana Roethle, an alternate delegate from Leawood.

Derek Kreifels, a Ted Cruz delegate who works in Mission, said, “Most people if they were honest would say they were relieved” that the convention wasn’t in Kansas City.

Kansas City Mayor Sly James said Kansas City would have done fine had the convention competition ended differently.

“We’d do what we always do,” James said. “Roll up our sleeves and get to work.”

That may be good news for convention planners in 2020 and beyond. Increasingly, midsized cities like Cleveland and Kansas City expect to be the primary competitors for national political conventions.

Bigger cities, it turns out, don’t want the headache.

“I don’t know that these conventions are as financially rewarding for the host cities as maybe they once were,” said John Hancock, chairman of the Missouri Republican Party and a delegate.

There’s no guarantee, of course, that Kansas City will try again in a couple of years. That decision may have to come after Cleveland’s convention is over and the impact is finally understood by convention planners across the country.

But another bid is at least possible. “Cities like Kansas City still need to continue to prove that we can host major events,” Stephens said.

“We were incredibly well-prepared in our bid,” he said. “But right now, if I was watching the convention unfold in downtown Kansas City, I would have a lot of sleepless nights.”

This story was originally published July 18, 2016 at 3:27 PM with the headline "Kansas City ponders what might have been as Cleveland opens its doors to GOP."