“You’re never too young to be a chip switcher or a chip snitcher.”
Switch to Kitty Clover Potato Chips, the commercial voiceover warns, as the bag of chips is snatched from each family member one by one, and you’ll have to deal with chip snitchers, “because Kitty Clover Potato Chips are so good, everyone’s tempted to swipe a Kitty Clover Chip or two.”
The Kitty Clover Potato Chips company was founded in Omaha with the purchase of a defunct company name and the logo along with a potato peeler and potato slicer, some bags with the logo printed on them, a large kettle, and a stapler—all for $150. In 1932, at the height of the Great Depression, Harold Lippold walked the streets of Omaha selling potato chips to theaters and stores. At 18 years-old, Lippold was determined to make Kitty Clover a successful company—but the magnitude of the result was one he could not foresee.
A 17-by-25 foot room on 16th and Cuming streets soon gave way to the need for expansion, leading the company to settle in an 80,000-square-foot facility on South 24th Street by 1952. Processing 250,000 pounds of potatoes per day, upwards of 16,000 bags, the Kitty Clover company was among the largest potato chip factories in the world, dedicated exclusively to producing deliciously salty spud crisps. A family size bag of Kitty Clovers sold for 59 cents. There was even a board game produced to promote the company in 1964, aptly titled, “Kitty Clover Potato Chip Game.”
Another ad had a particularly memorable hook: “Come on over to Kitty Clover, the chip with the hometown taste.” Decades later, the catchy jingle continues to resonate for the generations who grew up munching the made-in-Omaha snack.
Collective recollections of Kitty Clover also continue to persist thanks in part to memories of relatives who worked in the factory as well as the obligatory school field trips to visit the plant. In the Omaha History Club Facebook group, a post about the potato chip factory prompted scores of shared stories about the field trips and the free bags of chips elementary school students were given to take home. No doubt, most children stepped off their buses with empty bags.
“We always looked forward to school field trips to Kitty Clover on 24th Street since we got to eat the chips! It was a big deal to get a free bag back then,” recounted one poster. Another, concurred, adding, “A field trip to the Kitty Clover factory as a kid in the 60’s had a lasting effect on me. At the end of the tour, we were handed a still warm small bag of chips. Best ever, I miss Kitty Clover.” “The fresh warm chips tasted so delicious,” agreed someone else.
One poster waxed nostalgic for a different reason: “I love[d] that smell. I really feel sorry for those kids today; they don’t get to know all the smells that we did…” Still another shared a particularly poignant memory: “My Mama told me while she was pregnant with me in ’65 she and my Dad lived across the street from the Kitty Clover plant, and she went there everyday to get a bag of chips because she had a constant craving for them.”
In 1986, the last year of production before Kitty Clover closed its doors for good in 1987, bags of Kitty Clover potato chips included a special prize: disc-shaped baseball cards featuring the Kansas City Royals team members who played in the 1985 College World Series.
“I had Kitty Clover chips in my lunches when I was in grade school,” recalled Nick Vedros, president of the Lumi Neon Museum in Kansas City. “So I remember them.”
Vedros is currently in possession of two Kitty Clover neon signs that were displayed on the building that still stands at 24th and Martha Streets. Weathered from age, these two signs have found their way to the Lumi Neon Museum in Kansas City, Missouri. Vedros drove to Omaha to obtain the signs, which were generously donated after they were won at an auction. “We’ve tried to make the museum a vast majority of Kansas City signs,” Vedros said. On encountering the Kitty Clover signs, however, he “thought they were really fascinating. Kitty Clover had a presence in Kansas City, too.”
Thus, the Kitty Clover signs were loaded onto a flatbed and transported to Kansas City to be restored. “Driving back to Kansas City behind that load was terrifying,” he said, as having to stop multiple times on the trip to retie the cargo on the windiest day of the year proved to be a nerve-wracking task.
Vedros has found a sponsor to restore one of the signs in Kansas City, but he prefers the other makes its way back to Omaha. “I want to restore [the sign] in Kansas City because they were sister signs, and I want them to look identical,” he explained. The other will stay in Kansas City to be part of the neon sign museum that Vedros is working to build downtown. “There’s volleyball, mini golf, a giant ferris wheel, barbecue, a concert venue, and the neon museum. I wanted the neon museum to be free to the community; it’s just a neon sign walkthrough where you can see all these signs and read about their histories. I’ve gone out and raised a couple hundred thousand dollars, and the sponsors’ names will go on the didactic.”
Having rescued over 90 signs, Vedros’ project is well underway. Meanwhile, the memory of field trips, wafting aromas, and the hometown taste of Kitty Clover Potato Chips endures.
To learn more, visit thelumineonmuseum.org
This article originally appeared in the June 2024 issue of Omaha Magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.
