It Only Takes a Spark

Spark Bar, which sought to bring nighttime merrymakers to the area, did not score as favorably. When Gouddou returned to the Commerce Tower a few days later to retrieve the consents and discuss the situation if need be, a receptionist handed them all back, unsigned.

The final say fell to Tower's property management director, Chris Erdley, who decided that regardless of Gouddou's character and intentions, a 3 a.m. nightclub was not the downtown neighbor Tower Properties desired. The decision left the Spark Bar owner looking up at a multimillion dollar corporation with a seat on the Downtown Council's board of directors. Things did not look good for Gouddou.

But as with earlier obstacles, he wasn't ready to give up. He and Landregan fired off calls, e-mails and letters to Erdley, urging him to reconsider the decision. When that didn't work, and it looked as though the two sides had reached an impasse, Gouddou let his customers in on the situation. He invited them to sign a symbolic but legally powerless petition and to sign form letters addressed to Tower Properties. He posted a sign just inside the Spark's front door in an attempt to rally patrons to his defense: "NOTICE TO OUR CUSTOMERS: We have tried unsuccessfully to get consent from Commerce Bank to stay open until 3 a.m. They are against us being here at all. Please sign our petition in support of your bar and let's send a message that we aren't going away. It's our downtown, not theirs!"

None of it made a dent. Frustrated, Gouddou asked his attorney to continue lobbying Tower Properties. But the move proved counterproductive. "All it did was cost me more money," he says. In the end, Gouddou's only available retaliation against his powerful foe was minor: He closed his Commerce Bank accounts.

About eighty letters from upset Spark customers arrived on Chris Erdley's desk this fall, and the Tower representative responded to each with a note thanking them for their input but explaining the consensus among downtown business owners was that there is "limited, if any, long-term benefit to the downtown area by allowing 3 a.m. business licenses."

Erdley, who arrived at Tower in January 1999, admits that Tower Properties has not experienced any specific problem with Spark Bar. But he fears the potential for vandalism increases wherever 3 a.m. licenses are granted. He also points out that Tower Properties has acted within city law.

Tower alone thwarted Spark's 3 a.m. license, but Erdley claims the decision reflects a widespread attitude downtown that late-night bars have minimal positive effect on the area. "Downtown is a pretty tight-knit community," he says. "And that's a recurring sentiment for all of them. It's not an adversarial position on our side. I wish them luck." Tight-knit may be an understatement; after Tower, the biggest landowner in the area is the UMB Financial Corporation, and its CEO, R. Crosby Kemper III, is cousin to the Kempers. (The competitive yet chummy relationship between Crosby and Jonathan Kemper was featured on the cover of Kansas City Business, a monthly magazine published by the chamber of commerce.)

Adversarial or not, Tower Properties is preventing Gouddou from competing with bars elsewhere in the city, and the real-estate company can't be unaware that the Spark's downtown location puts it at a disadvantage in the first place. "For one company to have that much power is ridiculous," Gouddou says.

After losing almost all hope, Gouddou wrote to Mayor Kay Barnes. It might not change the situation, he thought, but it would at least inform her of the type of difficulties a small businessman can have downtown. He included his correspondence with Tower Properties and a stack of his patrons' letters. In November, Gouddou received the mayor's reply.

"Though it appears you have significant support in your quest to obtain the 3 a.m. license, I as Mayor do not have a say in the matter," Barnes wrote. "The issuance of liquor licenses is done through an administrative process without Mayor and City Council approval."

Though technically correct, the bland suggestion that such an issue -- particularly such a downtown issue -- was so completely out of the mayor's hands astonished Gouddou. "It confirmed my whole idea that nothing was going to happen," he says. "That was my last hope. She could have at least BSed me with something flowery. I'm from the corporate world, I can handle that. But to say it's not her division?"

A few weeks later, on November 30, Barnes appeared at the downtown Marriott to unveil her attempt at a legacy: a $1.8 billion blueprint for revitalization that, among other things, includes the construction of a new downtown arena and the formation of a new civic council to oversee downtown projects. The mayor's strategy emphasizes making downtown an attractive place to live. On December 10, Barnes showcased her concept for an elaborate twenty-block district south of 12th Street called SoLo. Theoretically, the development would coincide with the several million dollars in private investment Barnes anticipates for the downtown community in coming years.