Rat Stomping and the history of Rat Alley

In my formative days during high school, cruising was big. Gas was about 30 cents a gallon, and since we weren't old enough to go to bars, we drove around in cars looked for girls or exciting and interesting things to do. One of my friends described the meaning of life as "minimizing the boredom". That seemed about right. Anyway, one of the big attractions at the time, was to Cruise through Rat Alley, which was an alley between two rows of restaurants on the Country Club Plaza (behind Dirty Sally's) in Kansas City. Rat Alley was about 20 feet wide and about 150 feet long. There were 2 or 3 sewer grates for drainage. At night, the restaurants would put their garbage and trash in the alley for collection the next morning. This provided lots of food and fun for the giant Sewer Rats that lived in the "down under". The big attraction was to cruise slowly through Rat Alley and blink your head lights. The rats would scurry out from behind the garbage and trash and make their way to the sewer grates, where they would scamper down hurriedly. We did this routine at least weekly - sometimes every night.

One time, we were cruising Rat Alley, and a van full of hippies wearing tennis shoes stopped in front of us, flashed their headlights, jumped out of their van, and proceeded to step on the nasty vermin creatures. It was the most bizarre thing I had seen in my young life. I knew right then and there that I had to become a Rat Stomper!

My only friend crazy enough to join me was Larry Reeves. We waited until the following night, drove slowly into Rat Alley, flashed our headlights, and with hearts racing, we jumped out of the car and starting stomping on rats. Not just one or two, but dozens. The trick was to get them before they made it to the sewer grates. Sometimes it would take just one quick stomp and other times it would take 5 or 10 good stomps to put them away.

We continued our Rat Stomping on a weekly basis. Word got out and many of our friends asked to go with us. Most were too scared to get out of the car, so they just sat in the car with the high beams on and watched in amazement while Larry and I polished off dozens of the filthy, nasty rodents. One of our friends was on the tennis team and brought his racket with him. It was an interesting feat of coordination and determination to watch my friend (Stuart) swat the frantic rats up into the adjacent brick wall 5 or 6 times until they succumbed to the swat-fest. We also brought our friend from the football team (Frank Storm) to one of our Rat adventures. On the football field he was tough as nails. No one messed with big Frank. But sitting in that car in Rat Alley freaked him out to no end. Not only would he not get out of the car, but he alternately screamed and laughed like a 5 year old girl.

After we stomped these rats, we began saving the carcasses in our trunks and delivering them secretly to girls we knew. We would usually place them in a preying position on their front stoops or in little trails going up their sidewalks. One we put one on the steering wheel inside our friend's Mustang convertible. She came out for school the next morning, opened the car door and screamed. Her father ran out, grabbed the rat and carried it to the kitchen garbage disposer. Forcing it down the opening, he turned it on and spewed rat blood, rat fur and assorted rat innards all across the kitchen counter. We found this out later from her brother. Our rat gifts to our female friends somehow remained a secret until many years later, when we divulged our secret at the 10 year reunion.

Sometimes, the Rats would try to strike back. They would run right at us and try to run up our legs. I assume that they were trying to bite us. This got a little close at times, so, Larry and I started wearing lace-up leather combat boots. They made for better stomping and protected us from the renegade rats who tried to fight back. The downside, was that they made quick maneuvers difficult. They were a bit clunky. The boots were particularly burdensome the night a giant white albino rat made it's way out from behind the piles of trash. It was about a foot long and weighed about 5 pounds. My heat stopped. This was the holy grail of Rat Stomping. This was a rat I had to have! To prevent this creature from escaping, I covered the sewer grates with cardboard. When the rat, discovered that I covered his escape hatch, he scampered out the alley into the Country Club Plaza. This was definitely a new adventure. While focusing my entire attention on the Rat at hand, I completely shut out the oblivious shoppers gathering to watch. I finally caught up to my foe and stepped down hard. Didn't even faze him. I stepped again. He kept running. After about a block, I caught up to him again and stomped down hard and heavy on his hearty pouch. He kept going, but was definitely slowing down. Larry, was following the action and laughing as hard as he could, but I made it clear to Larry, that this Rat was mine. I chased him one block further into the Plaza and cornered him next to a fountain. He tried to run up my leg, but I shook him off and stomped abruptly on his white little head. Not once, but 3 or 4 times. I had won. 1 for man - zero for the rats. I proudly picked up this Rat warrior and delivered it late that night to the Mayor's home. I bet his wife was glad to see that little ball of white fur in her mailbox the next morning!

After the big white Rat adventure, Rat stomping was never the same. We had eliminated hundreds of rats in the prior months and began to see only little ones. Instead of killing them, we just kicked them up against the wall, hoping that they would grow up to become formidable opponents within the alley.