Kansas City Plaza’s ‘blight’ debate once seemed laughable. Not so much now | Opinion
Timothy Hayes is a street musician who on Monday was set up near the Country Club Plaza’s Neptune fountain outside the Made in KC Marketplace. He used to sometimes play a few blocks away on the corner where Brio Italian Grille and Victoria’s Secret were longtime anchors.
“But that’s all gone now,” Hayes said. “Over here, it’s slightly less un-leased. Just about everything over there is empty.”
I had noticed.
It was 72 degrees Monday. It seemed like an ideal time to get some steps in and check the Plaza’s temperature. I walked the streets up and down, end to end, in search of hope that the city’s historic shopping and entertainment district will be a viable destination for the estimated 650,000 visitors descending on the Kansas City region in a few months for the World Cup.
I didn’t depart with a lot of hope.
To be fair, the Plaza doesn’t feel like Detroit in 2009, as some conservative cranks around town like to say it does. They might want to leave their south KC cul-de-sacs more often if they want a realistic sense of what’s happening in their city. There were women in yoga sets, tourists in town for the Big 12 tournament in their Iowa State and Texas Tech gear, and the usual couples taking photos by the fountains.
And there were even a few “coming soon” signs. The athleisure brand Alo, the luxury menswear boutique J.H. & Sons and something called LoveShackFancy are all opening this spring. As I was writing this column, I received a press release from the Plaza informing me that a women’s clothing shop called Mersea is opening in the former Three Dog Bakery, which recently closed after 30 years.
But otherwise the situation is quite grim. Think of a shop or restaurant that you associate with the Plaza, and not only is it probably gone, but nothing has taken its place. That list includes Houston’s, Chuy’s, Beauty Brands, Pinstripes, Mi Cocina, Reverse, the Cinemark movie theater. Victoria’s Secret is gone, and so is the Express and the Bath and Body Works to its east; nearly half of that side of the block of Nichols Road is vacant.
Restaurant, retail storefronts empty
Brio, Firehouse Subs, California Pizza Kitchen (later Hogshead), Fred P. Ott’s: closed, empty. Geniuses still buzz around the Apple Store, but its former storefront on Broadway is empty. Lululemon occupies one of the four corners of arguably the anchor intersection of the Plaza at Broadway and Nichols Road; the rest are unoccupied.
After Seasons 52 restaurant closed in May, an executive with Gillon Property Group, which owns the Plaza, told The Star in July that it already had two potential tenants interested in the space. Guess those haven’t panned out: The only signs of life at 340 Ward Parkway were a few families posing for pictures with the Easter bunny statues out front.
I think I’m forgetting a few. Oh, right: The Nordstrom that five years ago was supposed to save the Plaza remains a cordoned-off dirt patch. And Lockton, the private insurance firm that was one of the Plaza’s largest employers, has announced it is leaving for Leawood in a few years.
It has been nearly two years since Gillon Property Group bought the Country Club Plaza. The Dallas-based firm (formerly known as HP Village Partners) paid $175.6 million after the previous owners, Macerich Co. and the Taubman Centers, defaulted on $300 million in debt tied to the property.
Gillon came in hot, promising a sweeping reinvention of the Plaza that included luxury retail, more local restaurants, better walkability and public spaces, and taller buildings. They would restore the Plaza to its rightful glory.
It has gradually become clear that this is going to take a while. The hang-up right now is mostly about financing. The ownership group is in the process of squeezing local jurisdictions for every conceivable dime available to it, be that through tax increment financing, appealing county assessments or securing property tax exemptions. Until that’s all settled, much of Gillon’s grand vision remains conceptual.
The slow-moving financing talks, combined with the general shabbiness of the Plaza these days, got me thinking about a strange debate that played out here about a decade ago.
Trouble at the InterContinental
In 2016, the owners of the InterContinental Kansas City — the big crescent-shaped hotel overlooking Brush Creek — sought to declare their building “blighted.” At the time, the idea sounded absurd. Critics mocked it as the sort of development sleight of hand Kansas City had become famous for. How could a four-star hotel where famous people stay when they come to town — right in the middle of Kansas City’s crown-jewel entertainment district — be considered blighted?
The City Council ultimately approved the designation, allowing the hotel to create a community improvement district and charge a 1% sales tax on guests to help finance a $16 million renovation. As part of the deal, the hotel also agreed to set aside $250,000 from the tax proceeds for repairs to homes owned by low-income older adults in Kansas City.
Today, the InterContinental’s finances are in rough shape again. The hotel’s lenders have asked a judge to appoint a receiver to take control of the property after the owners failed to repay a loan with about $62 million still owed — likely more than the hotel is now worth.
Ten years ago, my eyes rolled into the back of my head at the idea the InterContinental was blighted. But standing there Monday, looking at the cracked driveway, the silent Diana fountain out front and a building in dire need of a power wash, it didn’t seem quite so far-fetched anymore. Especially not with all those empty buildings out across Brush Creek.
Hayes, the street musician, told me he’s been busking on the Plaza for about two years. Business, he said, has slowed lately — less foot traffic, less in tips.
I asked him if events like this week’s Big 12 tournament change the equation. They do, Hayes said.
“The thing is,” he told me, “tourists don’t know any better. They still think the Plaza’s the Plaza. Several times people have stopped me to ask where the busy part of the Plaza is. They think they’re maybe in the wrong place.”
And then he has to tell them the truth: They’re not lost. The Plaza is.
