On February 17, 1871, the Ohio State Journal published a letter to the editor describing what the writer said was a dire situation of neglect at the graveyard at the Ohio Penitentiary: “Their bodies are buried by days, to be dug up at night by unforbidden resur
Students enrolled in the departments of medicine at various Ohio medical schools soon discovered the answer to their quandary lay inside the gates of the local graveyards.
Standing in a dusty corner of the eclectic Memorial Museum in Mansfield is part of a tree trunk, dark with age, measuring about 8 feet long and a foot wide.
Chapman had always been drawn to the woods and wilderness, intrigued by Native people, wildlife, and the many medicinal plants the vast forests provided. A kind, gentle, religious man, he was also a born storyteller. And he respected all animals, both domestic and wild — he was never known to have carried a weapon. Historian Henry Howe, who traveled Ohio during the early 19th century, while Johnny was still alive, even related this story:
When Francis de Sales Brunner, a Catholic missionary priest from Switzerland, first came to what is now Mercer County in the mid-1840s, one of the substantial number of religious artifacts he brought with him was a depiction of a miracle in which the Virgin Mary is said to
His original collection, expanded through acquisitions and donations over the years, has grown into one of the largest collections of holy relics in the country, and today, the Maria Stein Shrine of the Holy Relics draws visitors from around the world to pray and reflect among more than 1,200 documented pieces displayed in a series of three hand-carved wooden altars and assorted glass cases.
John Herzig was quite pleased with the latest addition to his ever-so-slightly notorious collection.
Higgins later gained fame as the movie mutt, “Benji,” and to Herzig, Inn’s story of a lifetime of rescuing dogs from euthanasia and boarding them until he could find them homes is one that deserves to be remembered. “He supported at least 2,000 animals,” Herzig says. When Higgins eventually died after a long and fulfilling life, Inn gave her funeral, and Herzig has the program.
On November 14, 1935, nearly 500 people, including local, state, and national dignitaries, gathered in the shadow of the municipal light plant on the west bank of the Great Miami River in Piqua to watch as a wooden pole was set into the ground.
Joslin grew up in Sidney, and moved to Wyoming after high school to be a sheep rancher. After six years, he returned to Ohio to farm, and in 1917, he helped found the Shelby County Farm Bureau, laying the foundation for cooperative action. Reserved but determined, Joslin became known for his ability to earn trust and get results — he was well known for his mantra, “Let’s get it done” — and in 1935 he was the county farm bureau’s president.
Sitting beside a small campfire, its woodsmoke scenting the cool air of a perfect autumn afternoon, I could almost see the scene as vividly as the man seated across from me described it.
The “my people” he speaks of — and traces his lineage to through one of his grandfathers, a full-blooded Native American — were a mixed-race group (modern-day anthropologists term it a “tri-racial isolate”) known as the Carmel Indians. They lived in Ohio’s Highland and Meigs counties until as recently as the early 1900s.
In the 19th century, Ohio held a crucial place in the national transportation system as Americans gradually gained access to wider and wider areas of the country.
As a result, busy inns and taverns sprouted all over, and quite a few of them are still in business today. These centuries-old establishments are rich in history — and in some cases, ghosts. Below, we have listed some of the more notable haunted watering holes in the state for anyone interested in dinner with the departed, or an overnight stay with the spirits.
19 E. Main St., Chillicothe
Dorothy Montgomery is old enough to remember when the men from “the REA” (in this case, Guernsey-Muskingum Electric Cooperative) started digging holes, by hand, to set electric poles along her country road after the creation of the Ru
Montgomery recalls the excitement that spread among her family and neighbors as more and more signed up to join the co-op to bring electricity to their homes and farms — which had previously been lit by oil lamps or “Aladdin lamps.”
There’s one detail in particular, however, that is still fresh in her mind to this day. “I remember the shock if you stuck your finger in the socket,” she says. She’d been told doing that would hurt — “and it did,” she confirms. “Oil lamps never shocked you.”
In the early 19th century, public city parks were virtually nonexistent. That doesn’t mean, however, that there was no green space in urban areas.
Ohio’s urban garden cemeteries are some of the country’s most distinctive memorial parks, and stunning examples can be found in nearly every population center. Here are three that are particularly outstanding and accessible.
