Kansas City

A Kansas City Hot Rod Milestone: This full-page feature titled “Excuse Their Dust, the ‘Hot Rod’ Racers Are Warming Up” appeared in The Kansas City Star, April 25, 1948. Written by Hughes Rudd, the article offers a rare early look at the postwar hot rod movement as it spread from California to the Midwest. The piece documents a crowd of 14,000 gathering at a makeshift dirt track in Smithville, Missouri, to watch stripped-down “California-style” hot rods race in an exhibition event. It highlights local builders like Charles and John Tadlock and captures the rising popularity of hot rodding as a distinctly American youth phenomenon.

Sam Giberson's 1934 Ford Roadster of Kansas City, Kansas. Built over the course of a year using parts from five different cars, a truck, and a speedboat, the sleek and compact roadster cost just $2,600 to build. Completed in 1948, Giberson had previously lived in California, where he was exposed to the emerging world of hot rods. Inspired by what he had seen on the West Coast, he began sketching out his own “dream car” after relocating to Kansas City.

Ray Farhner's 1940 Ford Pickup

George Janich's 1941 Ford Business Coupe was found in Kansas City, Kansas in 1973

Ray Erickson's 1952 Ford Coupe

John Kingston's Sling Shot Dragster, of Kansas City.

The Dragettes was an all-girl hot rod club from Kansas City, Missouri. They were members of the Kansas City Timing Association, and according to The Southeast Missourian - Apr 21, 1959 the Dragettes was the only all-girl hot rod club in Kansas City. At the time, the club consisted of seven members. The members were either wives or sweethearts of members of other clubs.

Ray Farhner's 1963 Chevrolet Corvette, known as Outer Limits, was restyled by Ray Farhner of Farhner Custom Shop in Kansas City, Missouri in 1963.

The Early Days of Hot Rodding in Kansas City

By the spring of 1948, the hot rod movement had officially arrived in Kansas City. While the roots of hot rodding stretched back to California’s dry lakes and desert speed trials, its influence was spreading rapidly eastward in the years following World War II. One of the clearest windows into the early days of Kansas City hot rodding comes from a vivid account published in The Kansas City Star on April 25, 1948. Written by Hughes Rudd, the article captures the noise, speed, and excitement of a Sunday exhibition race in Smithville, Missouri, just eighteen miles north of Kansas City.^[1]

An estimated 14,000 fans packed the grounds near Smithville that day, eager to see stripped-down, rebuilt motor cars in action. The crowd filled the air with shouts, the scent of hot oil, and a cloud of dust, as dozens of antique and Depression-era cars raced around a makeshift dirt track. It was noisy, chaotic, and full of raw energy—everything a hot rod meet should be.^[1]

According to Rudd, there were a few hot rods in the Kansas City area before the war, but in 1948, the scene had exploded. The number of enthusiasts had grown so large that it was no longer possible to keep track of all the hot rods in town. The event was hosted by local hot rod enthusiasts Dee Caldwell and Ed Sullivan (not that Ed Sullivan), who had gone all-in to promote the sport. They installed steel grandstands, graded the track, and even set up soft drink stands to accommodate the growing crowds. Drivers paid a small fee to race, and the winners received a percentage of the gate—$1.10 per person. Although financial reward wasn’t the main driver for most racers, returns like that made the average $2,000 hot rod investment seem almost sensible.^[1]

While hot rods were now a common sight in Kansas City, Smithville had yet to catch the bug. At the time of the race, the town had no known hot rod owners. However, as the article suggested, it was only a matter of time before local boys were struck with “hot rod fever” after witnessing the spectacle.^[1]

Among the Kansas City elite in hot rod building were Charles and John Tadlock, owners of the Tadlock Servicenter at 43rd Avenue and Mission Road. The Tadlock brothers specialized in transforming battered old cars into sleek, California-style sportsters, complete with high-compression aluminum heads and four-carb setups. At the time of the article, Charles Tadlock was in the process of rebuilding a 1938 Ford convertible that he had purchased for $90. He was transforming it into what he described as a “California model,” featuring faired fenders and a lowered body. Rather than calling it a custom, Tadlock referred to the project specifically as a California car, an indication of how strong the West Coast influence had become in the region. Working from a small garage, they represented a growing wave of mechanically inclined young men who preferred horsepower to porch swings.^[1]

As Rudd described it, the sport was “California’s latest encroachment on the peace and quiet of the Middle West.” And indeed, many of the local racers and fans were influenced by California’s style and performance benchmarks. The cars often lacked windshields, fenders, and even hoods, but could hit speeds of up to 136 mph. It was all part of the thrill.^[1]

Hot rod fever didn’t stop with the men. The wives of racers—some smitten, some seemingly less impressed—were also part of the scene. One photo from the day featured a woman dubbed a “Hot Rock,” a slang term for a hot rodder’s girlfriend, posing in the cockpit of a car under construction in Kansas City. Another photo showed a “rather bored wife of a driver,” dressed in California fashion with a turban, t-shirt, and sunglasses.^[1]

Even military men were swept up in the excitement. Lieutenant Colonel J.F. Roberts, a WWII pilot stationed at Fort Leavenworth, regularly raced an English-built hot rod. S.H. Giberson, a pilot for Mid-Continent Airlines, built his racer with the help of his wife in their Kansas City garage.^[1]

The 1948 Smithville meet was one of the first formal racing events held in the region, and it marked the start of what would become a deeply rooted hot rod culture in Kansas City. As Hughes Rudd put it, “Like love in the spring, the contagious aspects [of hot rodding] could reach epidemic proportions.”^[1]