I associate “spring break” with the Hoosier tradition of heading to sunny Florida. There is nothing better than a week of sun and surf to shake off the Indiana winter.
This year, however, my parents’ work obligations prevented them from taking me and my sisters to Florida. It looked like Pearl, Rose, and I would be stuck at home for spring break. Then came the good news, our grandparents, whom we call FoPa and Nana, swooped in to save us.
Spring break was back on!
We were filled with happiness until we learned the destination. It wasn’t Florida. It was Kansas City. While I appreciated the effort, Kansas City didn’t scream “spring break” to me. At least the drive would be shorter.
I noticed FoPa packed his bulky typewriter. Determined not to reinforce the stereotype of an ungrateful teen, I told FoPa I would write his column this week. It seemed like a win for everyone. FoPa gets a week off. You loyal readers get a break from having to read FoPa’s usual rambling about The Helbing, and I have something to do to pass the boredom from being in Kansas City.
I went into the trip expecting the worst. The only thing I knew about Kansas City was that it had Kansas in the name and was very much not Kansas. But as it turned out, Kansas City had much more to offer than I imagined.
The first few days of the vacation went well. We visited the U.S. Federal Reserve where old paper money goes to be shredded, and new money is printed and distributed to banks. Security was practicing to be TSA. Which felt extensive, until it proved to be the highlight of the trip. Nana got busted.
Yes, the armed federal officer discovered a weapon on our usually law-abiding Nana. The suitcase checking monster of a machine located it in her purse. It wasn’t much of a weapon. The officer rolled it around in the palm of his hand, studied it for a bit and then consulted another officer. The decision was made. Nana’s miniature Swiss Army combination scissors and nail file were officially a weapon.
The officer locked it securely in a safe and gave Nana a special badge to retrieve it at the end of our trip. I couldn't tell whether it was a badge of shame or a badge of honor for trying.
The federal reserve was interesting. The exhibit included the history of money from the Greeks and Romans to present day. A souvenir bag of shredded money, a keepsake photo of your visit, and the pure joy FoPa experiences every time he sees an Eisenhower dollar coin are all included at no charge. As he always reminds us, he was born during the Eisenhower administration after all.
Next stop was Union Station. Just like Indianapolis and Cincinnati, the old railroad station in Kansas City is now a tourist attraction. It is a magnificent building and worth seeing. The attraction's intrigue is added to buy it being the site of what became known as the “Kansas City Massacre” -- a gunfight between several outlaws and FBI agents.
FoPa likes to drone on about the “Tales of Wells Fargo,” but I won’t bore you with that specifically because, despite how many times I’ve seen him watch it I haven’t picked up anything other than its common name with the great shootout in Union Station.
Back in present day Union Station where I can report that the only weapon is Nana’s miniature Swiss Army combination scissors and nail file. I purchased the best caramel apple dipped in chocolate that I've ever tasted.
Science City, an interactive science center, also located at Union Station. It includes a planetarium where FoPa took an after-lunch nap under the constellations. He claimed that Ptolemy always did the same.
My favorite part of Science City was the interactive exhibits. I especially enjoyed riding a bike on a steel cable suspended high in the air (photo below). I’m not sure if it was a Schwinn, but there was a safety net.
That day, we also went to a hybrid bookshop that featured immersive versions of well-known children’s books where I wandered to the second floor with my partner in crime, my sister, Rose. We were looking at a wooden bus filled with books where we were promptly told to go find the adults we were there with. Whether we were mistaken for disruptive teenagers, or clueless children is a mystery that will go down in history next to the badge Nana got for her Swiss Army knife.
Our final stop on the museum list was the Hallmark Museum. For those of you as blissfully unaware about Hallmark as I was, apparently, they don’t just make bad romance movies for women. Luckily, FoPa and I got out of touring the greeting card displays by taking a nap on a rather comfortable bench. Although we have been told that some young children stopped and stared at us for a while, the payoff of not having to look at greeting cards was worth it.
In summary, my spring break 2025 wasn’t all bad, but in 2026 I hope we go to Florida.
FoPa will see you all next week, same Schwinn time, same Schwinn channel
