It took place on March 17 so obviously it’s Irish. It’s wet because of the heavy rain that fell before it started and the light rain that fell later. It’s sweet because that’s what most short things are said to be and it’s short because that’s what Hamiltonians wanted. The title quite accurately describes the first-ever Hamilton Ohio Saint Patrick’s Day Parade which those Hamiltonians labeled Ohio’s Shortest. I think the parade route was about 575 feet long but the margin of error isn’t much less than the distance separating the piper leading the parade and the fire engine at its tail. I’ve since learned that the piper is Thomas Eickelberger and that the fellows next in line are Jim Goodman, from Municipal Brew Works, and Michael Ryan, Hamilton’s Vice Mayor. Hamilton’s Mayor, Pat Moeller didn’t actually march in the parade but I did get a shot of him chatting with Eickelberger during the staging.
Municipal Brew Works was listed as the parade’s starting point with the route ending around the corner and up a block at Tano Bistro. I got a full frontal of that bicycle leaning against the brewery before the big kickoff.
Here is the parade after turning the corner. The official end point is behind me but not everyone made it that far. Many departed the route when they reached The Casual Pint or The Pour House. Tano and Chick’nCone got a few of the marchers and would get more later but most initially headed to the adult beverage dispensaries including MBW back at the start point.
The city of Hamilton is no stranger to celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day or to promoting shortness. The parade was followed by the second annual O’DORA Dash. DORA stands for Designated Outdoor Refreshment Area where adults can carry alcoholic beverages and, as everyone knows, adding an ‘O’ will make anything Irish. Despite the word “dash” in its name, speed in covering the 0.1K course doesn’t seem particularly important. In fact, I saw no evidence of any time or speed-measuring devices anywhere near the event.
Much of the chatter about the event concerns not spilling your beer and I saw several participants meet that requirement by chugging their beverage at the beginning. But the official goal was to get as much liquid (either green beer or local Pahhni Water) as possible to the other end. True competitors were not deterred in the least by winds taking down the finish line marker. The Hamilton Community Foundation will benefit from the fundraiser regardless of who won or how much rainwater was in their cup.
I was already planning on attending the parade when I found out that someone I know would be playing at North Second Tap and Bottle Shop. When I got there, the new-to-me Bedel and Hibbard were on stage. Elijah Bedel and Sam Hibbard perform mostly American folk music on a variety of instruments. That’s a gourd banjo on the right side of the first picture and the banjo and fiddle on the picture’s left side are part of the mix too. Today’s song list was naturally slanted toward Ireland. Not only were they doing an afternoon set, but they would also be returning later to close out the night.
Although I’ve seen Rob McAllister do sets that would qualify as American folk music, that would not be happening today. Today it would be Dead Man String Band at full throttle. Usually checking out a guitarist’s pedal board will reveal an array of effects boxes with buttons. The Dead Man’s has real pedals and he uses them all. And somehow, replacing the tom rack on a bass drum with a microphone just seems to fit.

With the exception of the cold, I enjoyed everything about my day in Hamilton. I especially appreciated the sheer fun of the parade which kind of reminded me of the Cincinnati parade before all the sanctimonious family values posturing took over. The O’DORA Dash was fun to watch and I enjoyed a few malt beverages although none were green. And I appreciated hearing music in a place where others appreciated it too. Can there be any doubt that a place is cool when there is a wizard on the soundboard and a leprechaun on the bar?









































Loveland Stage Company was founded in 1979. I lived inside Loveland city limits from about 1981 to 1997. I visited the town frequently before I physically moved there and visit even more frequently now that I’ve moved a few miles away. I have driven by the LSC theater perhaps hundreds of times. I have seen many interesting titles displayed on that marquee. That I’d not previously been inside is both inexplicable and inexcusable. The performance I saw Sunday compares favorably with some I’ve seen in downtown Cincinnati. Walkable restaurants around LSC also compare favorably with those around the downtown theaters and the parking is cheaper. There’s some Shakespeare (Twelfth Night) coming up at LSC in a couple of months which I hope to catch. I’m also quite curious about what next season will bring.














Amy E. Brownlee is a lifelong Cincinnatian. She naturally learned a lot about the city growing up here then used that knowledge and added much more during her ten years at Cincinnati Magazine. An awful lot of the treasures she writes about in Lost Treasures of Cincinnati were lost before she arrived but a rather frightening number have disappeared during her lifetime. Of course, an even larger number have disappeared during mine. Neither of us is responsible for that. I swear it’s coincidence pure and simple.
The book opens with “Food and Drink” in Section 1 then covers “Entertainment” and “Retail” in the next two sections. The smallest section, “Media”, is followed by the largest, “Community”. Definitions for those section titles are not particularly rigid and the size of the “Community” section probably indicates that it is the least rigid of all. It is where things like churches and breweries, of which Cincinnati had more than a few, appear.
Most, but not quite all, of the breweries mentioned in the book were gone before I got here. Likewise with restaurants and attractions which together comprise the biggest part of things that have disappeared during my lifetime. I caught one show, Hair, at the Shubert (“Entertainment”) before it was torn down. I also saw one movie at the Albee (“Entertainment”) but I don’t remember what it was. I had one meal each at The Gourmet Room and the Maisonette (“Food and Drink”) before they closed. There are quite a few places in this book where I ate one or more meals or watched one or more movies, plays, games, or concerts. Encountering each of them on these pages prompted memories that went way beyond the single paragraph of text. Reading about places that were already gone when I came to Cincinnati didn’t prompt any memories, of course, but it did make me appreciate just how many treasures have been lost.
I really enjoyed reading Lost Treasures of Cincinnati cover-to-cover front-to-back but as I did, two other ways of reading the book came to mind. With its fairly short standalone essays, it seems like a natural fit for that popular personal reading room with the porcelain furniture. Its use as a reference book also seems rather natural. I don’t mean an every-last-detail reference book to use in conducting deep-dive research but a great place to answer questions like “What was the name of that boat-shaped restaurant?” or “What happened to our NBA team?”. The full index will help the book play that role.






























Greg Hand has been a man of letters — or at least a man of words — his entire adult life. He began as a newspaper reporter, moved up to editor, left to head up a university PR department, co-authored three books about the university while he was there, then retired. I was not even slightly aware of any of this as it was happening. I only became aware of Hand’s existence when I stumbled upon the blog he started post-retirement. His knowledge of local history and ability to dig up information to augment that knowledge was immediately apparent and I’ve been an ardent reader of that blog ever since that happy discovery. The blog’s name is Cincinnati Curiosities and it can be found
In fact, later in the book, Hand offers another very different capsulated view of the city. On December 12, 1890, he tells us, “The Palace Hotel had elephant steak on the menu because an elephant was executed by firing squad that morning at the Cincinnati Zoo. Hundreds of people watched. That pretty much summarizes Cincinnati in 1890.”
“The Sensational and the Senseless” is the fourth of ten chapters. Other chapters tell of monsters in the Ohio River (“The Old Weird Cincinnati”), Fanny Trollope’s visit during the “Porkoplis” period (“Tales From the Old City”), the possibility that striptease was invented in Cincinnati (“Freaks, Flesh, and Footlights”), and a large variety of other topics. The striptease claim is based on Millie De Leon’s orchestrated removal of several garters in 1901, and Hand cites the claim in suggesting that a Striptease Hall of Fame might be an “appropriate addition to our Over-the-Rhine neighborhood”.
Hand’s usually light-hearted reports are often accompanied by contemporary illustrations. At left is a Pears Soap advertisement based on Lillie Langtry’s famous bath in Apollinaris water at Cincinnati’s Grand Hotel in 1883. It’s in the chapter titled “Nudity, Naughtness, and Negotiable Affection”, and if that doesn’t get you interested in the book I don’t know what will.