Out and about in a great American city
When I think of Cincinnati, I think of WKRP, the Big Red Machine, Oscar Robertson, and CCM — among other things. Cincinnati is known as the “Queen City,” and I propose to sing it a little. Why do I choose that language? Well, behold:
Cincinnati wishes you to know that the people here “dream big and fly high.” You are familiar, of course, with the expression “when pigs fly” . . .
There are many murals in this city — more, I think, than I have ever seen in a city. One of them honors the man after whom Cincinnati is named — a Roman who lived a long, long time ago:
• The Cincinnati airport is not in Ohio, actually, but in Kentucky, just across the border: Hebron, Ky. (Say “HEE-brin.”)
• Up above, I spoke of the things that I think of when I think of Cincinnati. I should have mentioned Boomer Esiason. Speaking of him: Here is the Bengals’ stadium:
• “Who dey?” they say. I mean, Bengals fans do. This is also written “Who dey!” I see it both ways, around town. The complete version goes, “Who dey, who dey, who dey think gonna beat dem Bengals?”
To read about this, consult an article, here. Or this one.
I remember, long ago, when the chant around New Orleans went, “Who dat say finna beat dem Saints? Who dat? Who dat?” I heard it chanted by a jazz band at Preservation Hall. I can see those musicians, and hear them, right this very minute. Indelible.
• The Reds’ stadium is called the “Great American Ball Park.” Well, if you’re gonna call yourself that, you better be one. The dim fellow in the middle — my picture is not very good — is Johnny Bench:
These people honor the past, proudly, and tastefully:
Hold on — a nursing suite? At the ballpark? Sponsored by Pampers?! Yup:
Times, they do be changed.
• Downtown, William Henry Harrison:
And James Garfield:
•The Genius of Water, in Fountain Square (suitably enough). The inscription is to “The People of Cincinnati.”
(The fountain is not “working” today. Too cold, I think.)
• Did you ever see a handsomer church?
The below place was once a church. The German words etched in the middle of the façade tell you that this was a Protestant church, St. John’s, built in 1867. English words, lower, say “St. John’s Unitarian Church.” Today, the place is an “event space.”
Another church — St. Paul’s German Evangelical Protestant Church, latterly Taft’s Ale House:
As I have mentioned in my column in the past, I would rather churches were burned to the ground than converted to secular uses. But that’s just me . . .
• Meet Frederick Hecker, who stands in Washington Park. In Germany, he was a figure in the 1848 revolution. In America, he was a brigade commander in the Union Army.
An inscription reads, in German, “In word and deed, he stood for human freedom, in homelands old and new.” Another inscription, in English, reads, “He lived and died a true patriot, able statesman, brave soldier, good citizen, and noble character.”
• Attuned to culture, Cincinnati is. Here is a Shakespeare company on Erich Kunzel Way. Kunzel was the conductor of the Cincinnati Pops for about 30 years. (Perhaps appropriately, he was born to German immigrants, though in New York, not Cincy.)
This is the concert hall — a palace. It is immense, and beautiful. Almost a fortress, you could say, of civilization. A citadel.
The back ain’t so bad either:
How ’bout the garage?
• The county building is nice:
But City Hall is a positive stunner:
This is the Cincinnati courthouse, built in 1919:
The motto etched at the top is, “The pure and wise and equal administration of the laws forms the first end and blessing of social union.” Those words come from William Paley, an English divine who lived from 1743 to 1805.
• Speaking of a city of immigrants:
• Some brands of ice cream are legendary, and deservedly so. I think of McConnell’s in Santa Barbara. And Cincinnati’s own Graeter’s:
Foods of the gods.
• The grocery store I grew up with, up in Michigan, was Kroger. (We said “Kroger’s.” We Michiganders are big apostrophe-ess people. “His dad worked out to Ford’s.”) Well, Kroger is a Cincinnati company:
I have frequently had occasion to quote a slogan, of yore: “A million Kroger shoppers can’t be wrong.”
• Food, glorious food! (Sorry about the garbage containers.)
Seriously, isn’t that an excellent piece of public art?
• How about this one, honoring the art of music (it appears)?
• Ezzard Charles grew up in this town. Known as the “Cincinnati Cobra.” A light heavyweight, one of the greatest boxers who ever fought.
• Not sure what this is about — but I like it:
• Go ahead and enjoy yourself at Mr. Pitiful’s — and be glad you’re not a Mr. Pitiful:
I think of a song: “Cellophane, Mister Cellophane, / Shoulda been my name, Mister Cellophane . . .”
• Cincinnati is on the Ohio River, and on the other side is Covington, Ky. I meet a man who tells me he walked across the river once. I mean, on the water (after a fashion). Lots of people did. It was in 1977, when the river froze, really solid. It has not frozen that way since.
• This is a fine contribution to the nation: the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center:
• In Covington, an attractive old (and restored) building:
It headquartered the Citizens Telephone Company. If you look at the little orange banners below, they say, “Who dey!”
• The Ohio River is spanned by (among other bridges) the John A. Roebling Suspension Bridge. It was once known as the Cincinnati–Covington Bridge. Subsequently, it was renamed for its designer, Mr. Roebling. When this bridge opened, in 1866, it was the longest suspension bridge in the world. Seventeen years later, it was overtaken by another Roebling job: the Brooklyn Bridge.
Have a peek at this bridge here in Ohio (and Kentucky):
Try a different angle:
Roebling was born in 1806, in Mühlhausen. Have a look at this distinguished and accomplished fellow:
That statue is on the Kentucky side. It was donated by Matthias Toebben and his family. There is an inscription, or a dedication: “From an immigrant to an immigrant, John Roebling, and to all other immigrants who have helped build Greater Cincinnati . . .”
Hang on, have a look (elegant script, too):
• In the Cincinnati airport — in Hebron, Ky., remember — two co-workers are talking to each other. One of them has not quite heard what the other has said. He says to her, “Do what?” I love that. Hadn’t heard it in a while.
Thanks for joining me, my friends. Catch you soon.
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