Editor’s Note: Jack Becker is the editor of Caprock Chronicles and is a Librarian Emeritus from Texas Tech University. He can be reached at jack.becker@ttu.edu. Today’s article about the Great Plains Life Building is the first of a two-part series by frequent contributor Chuck Lanehart, Lubbock attorney and award-winning Western history writer.
Mother Nature boldly attempted to level the only elevated place in a famously flat community, but almost 55 years later, Lubbock’s tallest building still stands. Some believe the place is twisted, haunted or otherwise undesirable, an emblem of a declining downtown area. Others consider the tower a symbol of city center recovery. What is the true story of the Great Plains Life/Metro Tower/NTS Tower/Metro Tower Lofts Building?
Between 1940 and 1950, Lubbock was the second fastest-growing city in the United States (behind Albuquerque), so to accommodate the expected commercial demand, a skyscraper was in order.
In 1952, construction began on a $2.5 million, towering 20-story office building on the northeast corner of Broadway and Avenue L. The space was formerly occupied by the longtime residence of Lubbock’s pioneer Wheelock family.
The developer, Realty Equities Corp. of New York, hired noted Abilene architect David S. Castle, who designed the structure in mid-twentieth century International Style. Hailed as the tallest building between Fort Worth and Denver, it would rise 274 feet, dwarfing all other structures in Lubbock.
According to a 1953 newspaper article, “The Lubbock skyscraper now under construction would be the best place in town to be when it is finished, in case a tornado should hit. Such buildings are harder to tear down. Tornadoes that have hit other cities . . . have proved multi-storied steel reinforced buildings can weather the storm.”
The article continued, “When the building is completed, along with a new $1,000,000 plus store for Dunlap’s just across the street . . . and completion
of the new First Methodist Church, the downtown business section of Lubbock will have gained a new ‘glamour’ look surpassing the wildest dreams of a few years past.”
Opened for business in 1955, the top floor was crowned with large neon signs reading “Great Plains Life,” a local insurance company which occupied several floors of the building. Alas, the signs were not visible in Lamesa, 60 miles south, as promoters had hoped. Smaller signs on the first floor gave notice Lubbock’s venerable First National Bank also now called the place home.
Among other businesses which leased space in the building’s 110,000 square feet were law firms, architects, government offices, physicians and dentists. The Top of the Plains restaurant shared the 20th floor with radio station KLLL, where young disc jockey Waylon Jennings spun records and hung out with his friend Buddy Holly.
The Lubbock Avalanche-Journal published ads almost daily soliciting tenants, touting the building as “fully air-conditioned,” with “superb janitor service and noise-proof ceilings” and “very reasonable” rents. But by 1970, First National Bank, major law firms and even the Great Plains Life Insurance Company had relocated. Just 50 per cent of the building was occupied.
When the historic twister reached downtown Lubbock the night of May 11, 1970, it was a monster with winds exceeding 200 miles per hour, and the Great Plains Life Building stood in its deadly path. The tornado was one of the largest and most destructive recorded. Twenty-six people were killed, hundreds were injured, and property damage was estimated at $840 million ($6.7 billion in 2024 dollars).
The Great Plains Life Building—just six blocks from the tornado’s main track—took a hit on the southwest corner as the storm proceeded in its southwest to north northeast path. Wind velocity near the top of the building reached 220 mph. Occupants who escaped the structure during the storm reported it was moving “like a ship rolling in the sea.”
Aerial photos taken shortly after the disaster show the building standing majestically amid stark devastation in the surrounding area. Everyone was worried the 20-story monolith would soon fall. Windows were broken, bricks were blown away, and there were reports the structure was noticeably
swaying. A civil defense truck rolled through nearby streets warning, “Get back, the Great Plains Building is falling!”
Within days, engineers examined all 20 floors and came away convinced the tower was structurally stable and would not topple. Attorney Clancey Brazill, who was in the building when the tornado struck, said, “I’ll give you an Oklahoma guarantee that if that building didn’t fall Monday night it never will.”
Nevertheless, locals feared the psychological effect of the building being hit by the twister would hinder future operations there. They were right, and for years, the vacant structure was home only to pigeons and vandals.
Part two of this series will be published in next Sunday’s Lubbock Avalanche-Journal.
This article originally appeared on Lubbock Avalanche-Journal: Caprock Chronicles Great Plains Life Building and 1970 Lubbock tornado
