George Carter spent 17 years working in the electric cooperative industry before he became president and CEO of Paulding Putnam Electric Cooperative in Paulding in 2005.
The 24 electric cooperatives that power rural Ohio are focused on improving quality of life for co-op members and ensuring the long-term prosperity of the communities they serve. That focus, employees say, is what makes cooperatives different from other workplaces. When a team is focused on a common goal, especially one that makes a positive impact on communities they love, it often results in fulfilled employees.
It’s not unheard of, in fact, for someone to spend their entire career with the same co-op.
Geocaching — a smartphone version of hide-and-seek — turns GPS technology into a family-friendly game for getting outside.
When it was created 22 years ago, it was described as a “high-tech treasure hunt,” and though geocaching has evolved over the years, the basic premise remains the same. GPS coordinates are used to track down caches, or “treasure” hidden in containers. From the first cache hidden near Portland, Oregon, the number of caches has grown in two decades to well over 2 million worldwide, according to www.geocaching.com, the hobby’s worldwide coordinator. There’s sure to be a few near you right now.
Cooperation among cooperatives is a principle ingrained in the cooperative business model and lived out by cooperative employees when we face challenges. This summer, we have already seen powerful storms tearing through much of Ohio — uprooting trees, breaking utility poles, disrupting electric service, blocking roads, and generally making a mess of things.
Getting Brad Hoehne to stand still for a photo isn’t easy.
Served by South Central Power Company, the park sits on an open patch of land within Hocking Hills State Park. It’s named for the Ohio-born-and-bred astronaut who was the first American to orbit the Earth. JGAP opened in 2018, but Hoehne had been thinking for years about creating a venue where the public could connect with the cosmos. “I got the idea in 2003,” he says.
When automobiles were first being developed more than a century ago, they were as dangerous to start as they were to drive. You didn’t just turn a key in the ignition or press a button on the dashboard as we do today.
Born in Loudonville, Ohio, in 1876, Charles Kettering was the fourth of five children in his family. Poor eyesight caused him headaches in grade school, but he persevered to attend the College of Wooster before transferring to Ohio State University in Columbus. However, continuing eye problems eventually forced him to withdraw, and he took a job at the Star Telephone Company in Loudonville as foreman of a line crew.
As Father’s Day approached this past June, so did a weather pattern that brought with it a series of storms across Ohio. The storms appeared initially to be strong, to be sure, but not out of line with the usual tempests that sweep through the Midwest every summer.
As the co-ops organized resources to restore the systems to turn power back on to their members, the next several days brought alternating extreme heat and additional powerful storm systems that made the work of restoring service both more dangerous and more plentiful. Problems on AEP’s high-voltage transmission network resulted in more than 100,000 central Ohio homes and businesses having their power intentionally shut off for long stretches of time.
I enjoy reading — always have. One of my favorite books is Wilson Rawls’ 1961 classic, Where the Red Fern Grows. The author reveals the origin of the title of his fiction novel through his young protagonist, Billy Colman, who lived in the Oklahoma Ozarks:
The plant grows in such deep, dark forests and is so short-lived that I’ve only seen a handful during a lifetime of wandering the woods. One was growing along the Appalachian Trail in Virginia, spotted during a day hike with my wife. Several other plants I’ve stumbled across here in Ohio (not literally, thankfully), but not often. Each serendipitous find is truly a special event to be celebrated and, of course, photographed.
Like many moms whose children play sports in school, Kim Fulks of North Canton has formed close friendships with other moms just like her.
They embarked on a night out with Canton Food Tours, a service that local entrepreneur Barbara Abbott established a decade ago as a fun way to explore the city through its assorted eateries.
And as she lightly dips a spoon into a bowl of turtle soup at Bender’s Tavern, Fulks says she relished the opportunity to kick back without a game result, homeschooling chores, or the uncertainty of the pandemic to worry about.
