By Jill Draper
East of Troost was a phrase Ellen Barker never heard growing up near Gregory Boulevard and Prospect Avenue in the 1960s and early ’70s when her four-room wooden house was one of many similar structures on a middle-class street. That was before U.S. Highway 71 severed the area, destroying neighborhoods and sowing fear and anger.
Now she’s used that phrase for the title of a book—described as a novel wrapped around a memoir—to make sense of a turbulent time period that included redlining, the death of Martin Luther King Jr. and the race riots of 1968.
“East of Troost” is set in modern times just after the 2008 recession. It’s the story of a white woman who has lost her house and husband in California and returns to Kansas City to purchase and repair her dilapidated childhood home. The old neighbors have moved long ago to places like Overland Park, Prairie Village and Independence. Her new neighbors, who are mostly black, wonder what she’s doing there. Throughout the novel, she often wonders the same. Is she making things better, or making things worse?
Barker, 69, graduated from Bishop Hogan High in 1972 when it was a Catholic school (now it’s Hogan Prep Academy High). She won a scholarship to attend Washington University in St. Louis, where she majored in urban studies. After working for a while in that field, she moved away and found a job in IT doing systems management.
Six years ago while attending a reunion in Kansas City she drove by her old street for another reunion of sorts, a trip back in time to meet up with her childhood home at 6943 S. Benton Boulevard. Peering through the windows, she could tell it was neglected and abandoned, and concluded it would soon be razed.
After that visit she decided to write about her memories of the sixties, including the impact of 71 Highway, the white flight from her neighborhood and the small house that her dad, a truck driver, eventually expanded. She finished writing “East of Troost” plus two follow-up books (the second will be available in June 2024) during the pandemic.
“Seeing the house was so familiar. I assumed it was coming down, and the book was a way to let it live on,” she says, noting the unnamed main character “is me, but braver than me.” Her fictional sidekick Boris, a trustworthy German shepherd who is afraid of steps, is modeled after her real-life dog with the same name.
Like Barker, the main character is extremely disoriented by 71 Highway but pleased to discover a well-remembered store, Midland Hardware, still open for business. Nostalgia fans will be interested in her mentions of Fairyland, Blenheim Elementary (now remodeled for senior housing), The Landing, Swope Park and downtown when it was a major shopping destination.
Barker recalls a cascade of feelings as thousands of houses in her old neighborhood were being torn down. “In the beginning it was interesting, then it was weird, then it was creepy.” Realtors stoked fear by advising white residents that “the element” was moving in just blocks away, encouraging homeowners to sell quickly.
She also recalls learning phrases like redlining and handing out fair housing leaflets in her 8th grade after-school social action club sponsored by the Sisters of Charity.
“We really thought we were making a difference then, but it didn’t change things,” she says, noting that modern-day animosity toward blacks, Jews, Catholics and immigrants still exists. “I don’t have any answers. Maybe if there is no big solution, there must be small solutions.”
She hopes her book will be one of those small solutions, raising awareness in a palatable way that is not threatening. The main character in her book learns to look at situations from another’s point of view and make decisions based on a wider community perspective.
In the end, the future of Barker’s childhood home somewhat mirrors her book. Various families lived there after her parents sold the house in 1974. Later it sat vacant with a blue tarp thrown over the roof. But recently someone has purchased it and is fixing it up.
At the same time, parts of Troost are slowly being redeveloped with new cafes and other businesses. Community walks to encourage conversation and build unity are being held, and city officials have announced plans to analyze the highway corridor and find ways to mitigate its impact on nearby areas.
“These are good signs,” says Barker, who now lives in San Francisco and points out that many other towns have similar streets that serve as a wall between white and black neighborhoods. “Kansas City is such a beautiful place. I feel like there’s hope.”
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