Memories of Over-the-Rhine in the 1970s: Some Favorite Places

 I don't intend this to be a systematic piece on Over-the-Rhine, the old Cincinnati neighborhood north of Central Parkway (which at one time had been a canal). My living there happened at first by accident (or fate? Luck of the Irish?) and I had very little intellectual or social/political or religious agenda at first.

I moved to Cincinnati by invitation of Chris Cotter, my Notre Dame/Innsbruck Program friend. He invited me in late January of 1971, and I said yes more quickly than he could have expected. A few days later I drove my junker Ford Econoline van (a vehicle so eccentric only I could drive it) to Cincinnati. Chris had made some contacts with folks living in Over-the-Rhine (this began when he met Kenny Przybylski at Christ-in-the-Desert Monastery in Abiquiu, New Mexico; Ken invited Chris to come visit the Mansfield House Commune in Cincinnati).

 

For the first few days I stayed at Chris’s parents house in the Western Hills area of Cincinnati. This, to me, was luxurious living that I hadn’t experienced in our little home in Euclid, Ohio. Chris’s parents, Larry and Faye Cotter, were hospitable and generous, but Chris and I knew we had to find something that involved a simpler, more austere lifestyle, more in line with our values. It was our luck that Peggy Scherer and Anne Weinkam were getting ready to go on a very long road trip out West and needed someone to sublet their apartment, 225 Orchard Street in Over-the-Rhine (OTR). The apartment was not bad at all and the price was only $48/month--total! That was $24 per person. And we even had a responsive landlord. If memory serves, he was an Irish plumber who owned some old buildings in OTR. His last name might have been Dougherty. Chris and I immediately moved in to this “furnished” apartment--it was furnished but pretty simple. I think there was a kitchen table, a few chairs, a davenport, two beds, and not much more. I learned at one time that the chest of drawers Peggy and Anne left behind had belonged to Shirley Gallahan. I used it in Cincinnati, Pippa Passes, Kentucky, Berea, Kentucky, Euclid, Ohio, and Chardon, Ohio. About 10 years ago we bought a new Amish-built chest of drawers and gave Shirley's away.

Across Sycamore Street from our apartment was the Mansfield House, a commune of about 6-10 people . . . [more about that in another blog entry].

I loved Over-the-Rhine and explored it very thoroughly. Here are some favorite places and memories:

There was a little bakery near where I lived: north across Liberty and a block west to Main Street, then right around the corner on Main Street or possibly E. Clifton. This bakery sold donuts in the early morning right out of the grease for 7 cents a piece! (1971 prices). They were delicious, and police officers, firefighters, and ordinary working folks lined up to buy them. And I did too!

There was a great bluegrass music bar on Main Street near 13th, "Aunt Maudie's Country Garden." They had the best live bluegrass a few nights a week, no cover charge. Usually you'd hear The Stoney Mountain Boys, with Boatwhistle on acoustic bass (his real name was Vernon McIntyre Sr.); Earl Taylor on mandolin; Jim McCall on rhythm guitar; and Junior McIntyre on five-string banjo. They all sang. They were magnificent, maybe the best bluegrass band in the world. I almost got shot at Aunt Maudie’s one time!  but that’s a story for a different time.

There was a fine religious bookstore on the east side of Vine Street about a hundred feet north of Liberty. It might have been called St. Francis Bookstore. I loved to browse in this progressive book shop and I remember well the highly informed store manager (her name might have been Mary).

A block or two north of the bookstore was Stenger's Cafe. I especially remember an occasional treat they had--homemade potato pancakes. They were fabulous. They also had wonderful, affordable roast beef sandwiches. I can still picture the proprietor, though I can’t remember his name. This was a great neighborhood bar and restaurant.

Across the street from Stenger's was Bolte's. They sold dried beans, peas, lentils, whole wheat flour, spices, herbs, things like that. The prices were good and the quality was good. I don’t know how they could sell enough to stay in business. What a great resource for the community!

A block west of Bolte's was The Findlay Market. I did shop there often enough. Sometimes we’d go there at the end of the day when they were practically giving away unsold fruit and vegetables. This market was something like Cleveland’s West Side Market. The vendors were local and many had been there for years.

The Empire Theater, near the corner of Vine and Liberty. You might think I’m crazy for including this funky place. Joanie Levy first took the Mansfield/Orchard Street gang there to see Clint Eastwood Spaghetti Westerns. The nice thing about this theatre is that it was air-conditioned. OTR was sweltering in the summer, and this was a place you could get relief for a couple hours. Unfortunately, your feet stuck to the floor in this theatre! Oh well . . .

12th Street Clinic. Also known as “Pilot City Health Service,” PCHS was a model for the future of medicine. It was a small but comprehensive clinic with general-practice physicians, a dentist, social workers, sanitarians, visiting nurses and aides, and a health education department (that’s where I worked 1971-73). Dale White DDS was the best dentist around. The social workers, Tom DeFolco and Mark were excellent (Tom later became a priest). I just recently heard of some unfortunate attitudes some of the doctors and nurses had, discouraging breastfeeding. That must have been an attitude of that era. It was unfortunate but not universal at PCHS. I know that because I assisted Becky Meyers, RN in teaching a class for new and expectant parents, and we promoted breastfeeding. The 12th Street Clinic had fees based on the ability to pay, a sliding scale, and was led by Dr. Joe Alter, who, I believe, had been a Conscientious Objector because of his Quaker beliefs during World War II. He was a terrific leader.

The Bank Cafe, 12th Street and Vine. This was an ordinary buffet-style restaurant, very busy, full of life. It was inexpensive and occasionally I’d get a hamburger there. I’d order it with everything on it, and the waiter would yell to the cook, “Burger through the garden!”

Washington Park. I walked through Washington Park (at 12th Street, between Elm and Race Streets) every day for a couple years when I worked at the 12th Street Clinic. Back in the early 1970s there were lots of alcoholics hanging around the park and I saw some unfortunate incidents there. Later, I attended some political demonstrations in the park, the last one being a memorial for Buddy Grey circa November 1996. That was the last time I saw Maurice McCrackin. I think I saw Kathleen Prudence there that day too.

Music Hall. This, of course, is the home of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. It must be the most impressive building in OTR, and, completed in 1878, kept hundreds of bricklayers, masons, plasterers, painters, woodworkers, and other craftspeople busy for years creating this master work. For a long time this was probably one of the few connections between Cincinnati’s upper-middle class and OTR. That, of course, has changed with the astonishing gentrification of OTR that’s been going on for many years now.

Seventh Seal Bar. This was a very strange bar on McMicken Street in OTR run by a fellow named Ted (for some reason I think he was a former priest). This was Ken Przybylski’s favorite bar and I was in there many times with the Mansfield House/Orchard Street folks. There was nothing particularly memorable about it except that I was there with my friends. And it had a strange name, I think from a famous art film by Ingmar Bergman.

Old St. Mary’s. St. Mary’s might be the oldest or one of the oldest Catholic churches in Cincinnati (built 1841). I only went to mass there a couple times (and I believe they had mass in English, German, and Italian!). St. Mary’s was also the place where we went when we were “jumping” for Meals on Wheels, so it served to a certain extent as a social center for the neighborhood. About a block from the church was the Bible Center, which became for a while a Drop-In Center for many folks in the OTR area. I’ve been working with Homeless folks many years in Painesville, Ohio, up in Lake County, and a drop-in center is about the most needed thing for homeless people. They often have nowhere to go during the day and during bad weather. 

Old St. Paul’s. I was never in St. Paul’s Church in the Pendleton area of OTR when it was an active church. But I was there plenty of times after it had been decommissioned. I believe Jim Tarbell had been allowed to oversee the church and its incredible rectory. I occasionally slept at the rectory when I was between apartments, and I did some painting and plastering work there with Jack Shereda in the mid 1970s. I remember strtipping off about ten layers of old wallpaper before patching the plaster (Jack’s specialty) and painting. I especially remember the incredible bathrooms and showers in the old rectory, with multiple showerheads. It struck me that these priests lived at a level of luxury unknown to the regular folks in the neighborhood. Around 1976 we celebrated a wedding in the decommissioned church, that of Chris and Linda Cotter. I believe Rev. Hilaire Valiquette was the celebrant (in the de-commissioned church!). The reception party took place right afterwards in the church and the rooms behind the tabernacle. It was a fun and joyous event, and much alcohol was consumed. The highlight of the night was Dick Crowley’s attempt to recite a Pablo Neruda poem, “I Body of a Woman.” Dick intended it seriously, but his recitation was met with howls of laughter. Gee, I really miss the Dick Crowley I knew back in the 1970s. What a guy! One other thing just came to mind about St. Paul’s. There was a Ravi Shankar concert held there around 1976. I lived very close by, but didn’t have the ten bucks needed to attend the concert.

I realize my list is strange and eclectic. It probably reflects the point-of-view of an unmarried man in his twenties, which I was. My friends who were married or had children would almost certainly have a different list. And this list doesn’t talk much about the most important and remarkable thing about OTR, the people that lived and worked there.

Key to Patricia (Patsy) Harman's Nonfiction Memoir "Arms Wide Open"

 Key to Patsy Harman’s “Arms Wide Open.” Patsy's book is like a "roman-a-clef." It's a mix of fiction and non-fiction, with the characters' names changed and some actions and places slightly fictionalized.

These are my best guesses:

Patsy Patsy Harman, who I knew circa 1974 as Patsy Sun, partner at that time with Bob Sun, now known as Robin Wilson.

Mica Kaya, son of Patsy and Bob Sun.

Tom Tom Harman, now married to Patsy

Mara Wendy Rawlins

Benny Steve Tuck

Stacy         Robin Wilson, known circa 1974 as Bob Sun

Kaitlin Kerry Grant (later married to Tim Jenkins)

Tall Terry Tim Jenkins, Winona, MN, friend and classmate of Kenny Przybylski.

Tristan John Meyer. Close friend of Barb Siarca.

Annie Barb Siarca, of Willowick, Lake County, Ohio. Now in Montana.

Colin Chuck Matthei, one of the greatest Peacemakers.

From the North Chicago suburbs.

Shanti Diane. From the Dakotas. She gave me her old junker green Dodge, mentioned in the book, on page 103, Chapter 2.

Bro. Lenny Kenny Przybylski, mentioned only briefly on p. 128

Rachel Short, stocky fiddle-playing Jewish girl,

Not a great fiddle player back in 1975.

• Patsy and Tom currently live in West Virginia.

• Wendy and Steve also live in West Virginia.

• Robin Wilson still lives near Spencer, West Virginia.

• Kerry and Tim live near Westby, Wisconsin. I've visited them on the way to Montana.

Kenny, Chuck, and Diane are deceased. Chuck died of thyroid cancer. Diane also died of cancer.

Tim Jenkins, Kerry Grant, and the Beautiful "Driftless Area" of Wisconsin

Tim Jenkins, playing fiddle on the right, at the Old Oak Inn, Soldiers Grove, Wisconsin

Two weeks ago I visited an old friend, Tim Jenkins, in a small farm community in the Driftless Area of Wisconsin, not too far from LaCrosse Wisconsin and Winona, Minnesota. The Driftless Area was unglaciated, and it is full of green, steep hills, beautiful valleys, and fine farm fields. When we arrived, Tim took us to a music gig he had at The Old Oak Inn in Soldiers Grove, Wisconsin. Tim and three of his friends essentially played for their suppers--played beautiful Irish and American music, featuring fiddles, guitars, banjos, and percussion. We had a wonderful family-style meal at the Inn, compliments of Tim, and we met some of his friends. I have read that this is, in some respects, the poorest county in Wisconsin, but it really is rich in culture, community, and cooperative spirit. Nearby Viroqua is the home of more co-ops than any other small community in the state. And the area is rich in music, alternative education (with their local Waldorf School), and various forms of communal life.

Unfortunately, Tim's wife Kerry was not there the day we visited (her 95 year old mother was in LaCrosse). So it will have to be another day when we see her again. She and Tim have created a wonderful life together, living simply and creatively on very little money. That's the way they have lived since I first met them in the early 1970s. In the mid 1970s they lived in an intentional community in Spencer, West Virginia. Many of my friends were in that commune, and I was able to visit it a couple of memorable times. Some friends associated with the Spencer Community include Kenny Przybylski (deceased), Wendy Rawlins Tuck, Sherry Lung (now deceased), Tom Harman (now a physician), Robin Wilson, Patsy Harman (now a successful author), and several others.

Here are a few pics of the farm where Tim and Kerry live:

Tim and Kerry's simple, beautiful home.

Ben, a physician, and Julee, a teacher, live in the old farm house. We slept in the attic of their house.

Barn dances, parties, and receptions are held in this barn.

Tim and Kerry's home, left, and the huge barn.

Tim ands Kerry have remained faithful to the spirit of the Peacemakers, Quakers, and Catholic Workers I first met in Cincinnati in the early 1970s.

Community Wrapped in Community Wrapped in Community

I wonder if Robin Williams, for one night about a week ago, felt completely alone, completely abandoned, as when Jesus on the cross "shouted in a loud voice, saying 'Eli Eli lama sabachthani?' which is, 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'" We cannot know this for sure. We can not even know for sure things right in front of our face.

One thing I do know, as well as a human being is able, is that I am loved and enveloped in many communities, almost swaddled in love as a newborn baby. My first community was my family, initially my mother, father, and grandparents, Cora and Connie Coughlin. And I had lots of aunts and uncles and cousins. I joke that we didn't have friends growing up--we had family, relatives. This family expanded as Denny, Mary Ellen, Kevin, and Jim were born. And it keeps expanding!

Family is still very central to me, now with Linda, Julia, Carolan, and Emily, and my two sons-in-law, Ed and Brian, and my grandchildren, Colin and Robby. We have a  big family, and it still is the bedrock of my security.

I have several other families, and these have been more "dynamic" over the years, with people flowing in and out. One of the first important ones for me was my Notre Dame classmates, especially the 35 other guys I studied abroad with in 1967-68 (in Salzburg and Innsbruck, Austria). Many of these fellows remain very close friends, with some others a bit more distant.

Another fantastic warm and loving community -- the peace activists I met when I moved to Cincinnati from Euclid in the winter of 1971. These people were Peacemakers, Catholic Workers, Quakers, and other like-minded living in and around Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine neighborhood. Some were around my age, give or take, like Chris Cotter, Kenny Przybylski, Chuck Matthei, Jack Shereda, Peggy Scherer, Anne and Clare Weinkam, Greg Haas, Joan Levy, Bonnie Tompkins, Henry Scott, Andy Meyer, Joel Stevens, Dick Crowley, Richard Gale, John Luginbill (and others), and some were "elders" like Ernest and Marion Bromley, Maurice McCrackin (Mac), Bill Wahler--and several more. Some of my Peacemaker friends have died--Chuck Matthei, Ernest, Marion, Mac, Kenny, Jack, Bill. But I remain close friends with many, despite living far away from them.

Another layer of community consists of my colleagues at Lakeland Community College. Many of these are professors and fellow members of our union, the Lakeland Faculty Association. But there are also plenty of staffers, administrators, and part-timers that I consider part of my work community.

And then there is one of the most wonderful, sustaining communities I belong to, at my church, St. Mary's in Painesville, Ohio, especially the people I work with in the Karpos Ministry to feed the hungry and homeless--Linda, Kathy and Dan Philipps, Pam, Judy, Ken Fitzsimmons, Chuck Hillier, Jim, Bernice, Karen, Jeff, Kathy Flora, and many others. We have found a common focus for our interests in social justice and we have found a common and important task. It is almost exhilarating to work together with these folks every week. This is a model of the Beloved Community that Martin Luther King and Maurice McCrackin spoke of!

There are other communities I prize--my Irish-Gaelic classmates, my Irish traditional music friends, and many others.

These communities sustain me, and I hope I that I can do a small part to sustain, nourish, and love my friends in these communities. Let them never, not for an hour, feel unloved and unappreciated. This is my prayer.

Fine Hymn for Our Beloved Dead: "Go Forth," by Trevor Thomson

At mass today at St. Mary's Church in Painesville, Ohio, we sang the hymn "Go Forth," by Trevor Thomson. The song was incredibly beautiful, especially with the whistle accompaniment of Mary Ann Ratchko-Gamez and the piano of Francesco Binda.

I especially thought of Dorothy Glanzer, who passed away a few days ago. And of course of my Mom and Dad, of Ruth and Art Sanders, of Evelyn Hoffman, and Kenny Przybylski.

Here is a performance found on Youtube:

Happy Birthday O Carolan!

Carolan giving Linda a birthday present. Brian Homan on left (July 6, 2013).

Our wonderful daughter Carolan Ruth turned 28 yesterday. That hardly seems possible because Linda and I hold the memories of her birth and her childhood so fresh in our hearts.

The story of her birth seems almost mythological in our family (I am admittedly one of the chief mythologizers). It was July 14th and we were ready for this baby to be born. I love names and had been thinking about all sorts of possibilities. If the baby were to be a boy, I thought about "Giovanni Francesco," which was the name of St. Francis of Assisi, my favorite saint. The English version of that would be "John Francis," the name of my Grampa FitzPatrick, who died when I was one year old in 1949. I didn't think we would have another girl, but if we did I thought about the name "Carmen." To me it was a great name for a dark-featured beauty (our first child, Julia, had dark complexion, dark brown hair, and brown eyes--"Black Irish," we figured). Also, this baby was due around the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, July 16th. "Carmen" was close to "Carmel." Also in mind was an Irish singer I had heard on television years before, Carmel Quinn. I always liked her name. So this baby might get the moniker "Carmen."

When Linda started into labor on July 14th, we headed to Central Baptist Hospital in Lexington, Kentucky, some 45 miles from our home in Berea, KY. To our astonishment (after our first child we felt like old pros!), the labor didn't progress and the doctors sent us home. This was a little discouraging. The next evening, the labor began again and this time we were pretty sure so we packed up and headed to Central Baptist again. We arrived there around midnight. Linda was in serious labor quickly. Somewhere around 4 in the morning, the doctors spotted meconium and they went into what seemed to us a panic. Their seriousness--the sudden change from relaxed joking and talk to serious work--scared us. They wheeled Linda in her hospital birthing room bed directly into what seemed to be an operating room. Then things happened fast! And a little baby girl was born around 4:30 in the morning on July 16th, the Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. But as we looked at this new baby, we knew right away this was no "Carmen." This kid had pale skin and red hair (that stuck straight up!). You couldn't find a kid who looked less like her older sister. We would have to rethink this baby's name.

The next day someone congratulated us on the birth of "Carmen." I had to tell her that this new person's name was not going to be Carmen. Her name would be "Carolan Ruth Sanders Coughlin." "Ruth" was her maternal grandmother's name. "Sanders" was her mother's surname. And "Carolan" was the name of the great Irish harp player and composer who lived from 1670 to 1738. O'Carolan was a blind harper and composer of some of the greatest, most timeless tunes ever created (my favorite being "Sí Bheag, Sí Mhór").

Very shortly after Carolan was born, she was put into Linda's arms. Linda, who had no medicine, no anesthetic for the birth, was wide awake and full of energy. Linda wanted to call her family and friends and tell of the wonderful news. I had to tell her that no one else in the world was awake yet and that we'd have to wait a couple hours before spreading the word.#


Carolan is a happy kid, very bright, a hell of a lot of fun. She shares her joy with everyone, family and friends alike. She reminds me of Kenny Przybylski in that regard. We thank the Lord for Carolan!

Wedding and Honeymoon May 1978

I'm going to repost this on our 38th Anniversary. Some of the few photos we have of that day.

Kenny Przybylski on left (the only photo I have of him). At our reception in Mt. Airy Forest, May 5, 1978.

Terri Antholzner and Brother Dan

Cutting the Wedding Cake

Linda, on our way down from Mt. LeConte, Smoky Mountains

Smoky Mountain Honeymoon, near Mt. LeConte

Because of our daughter's approaching wedding, we started looking at our own wedding photos from May 1978. Linda has not changed much. I used to have hair! Brown hair and a brown beard. Tempus fugit!

More about Cincinnati's Boal Street & Cincinnati Communes

There were several community houses (some people might call these "communes") in Cincinnati in the early 1970s, and I was connected to three of them. One loose community was the 225 Orchard Street apartment building in the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood, near Liberty Street and Sycamore. People who lived in that building included me, Chris Cotter, briefly Dan Wenstrup, Clare Weinkam, Annie Weinkam, Peggy Scherer, Jack Shereda, and others who don't immediately come to mind.

About 100 feet across Sycamore Street was the Mansfield House, which was a genuine community or commune. When I moved to Cincinnati from Euclid in late January of 1971, the people in the Mansfield House included Greg Haas, John Luginbill, Joan Levy, Bonnie Tompkins, Andy Meyer, and a handful of other folks. I was never sure if there was an official roster of House residents. Certainly Carolyn Bromley and her brother Dan lived there much of the time, as did Jack Shereda, and, from time to time, Kenny Przybylski. When you add in the frequent visitors, you get a sense of how dynamic and exciting this place was: Denny Ryan, Henry Scott, Mary Alice Shepherd, Chuck Matthei, Peggy Scherer, Anne Weinkam (and her sister Clare and brother Paul), Dick Crowley, Richard Gale, Chris Cotter, Joel Stevens--and so many other wonderful, talented, and committed people.

A third community house, of sorts, developed about a quarter of a mile away, just up the Sycamore Street hill, then down Boal Street, a beautiful hillside street that ran above the Over-the-Rhine basin. I think that somehow Jim Tarbell got hold of the house--for very little money. And Jim let his friends live in the house. The address, if I remember correctly, was 324 Boal St. The house, built in the late 1890s, was a three-story brick house, a style common in Cincinnati's older neighborhoods. This house had a wonderful view, a back yard that was a hillside, and a side yard--something lacking in most of Over-the-Rhine.

For a very short time, when I was between apartments, I stayed in the Boal Street house. Regulars there were Henry Scott and Dan Bromley. A fellow named Jack lived in the first-floor front room; I'm sure many other people lived in that house or stayed temporarily in that house from time to time. I remember that Chris Cotter's dad, Larry Cotter (a prominent architect in Cincinnati), looked over the house to give an opinion on its structural soundness. If I remember correctly, Mr. Cotter was not particularly sanguine about the house's long-term prospects (guess he was wrong!).

I have many fond memories of the Boal Street house. I remember a wonderful party we had on one of the upper floors--must have been around 1975 or so. Lots of people packed in, music and dancing and beer--lots of fun! I remember another time when we took the old Peacemaker Ross Anderson up on the roof. Now Ross was about 75-years-old and blind, so this appeared to be a dangerous stunt. But Ross was so happy to sit under the stars on the roof of that old house. So many wonderful friends, meals, parties. I remember one day playing Scrabble with friends, including Ken Przybylski and Mary Alice Shepherd (now Mary Alice Milnes). Mary Alice took some pictures and when she later showed me a photo she took, I grabbed it and tried to crumple it up. What a dumb, vain move on my part! I wish I had that photo now, with Kenny deceased almost 25 years. Another memory is of Malcolm Dalglish, the great musician, playing his hammer dulcimer in the house--right at the beginning of his folk music career.

One amazing thing I've found about the Internet is that you can type in the address of a house, and then use a function on Google Maps to actually see that house. If you want to try to see the old Boal Street house, type this into Google: 324 Boal Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. Then drag the little yellow icon of a man onto the road and take a look. It's a miracle!

I have also found a photo and property description of this house by going to www.zillow.com, and then typing in the house address.

More about the Cincinnati Boal St. incident

I located a website that discusses the strange incident Kenny Przybylski related to me--something that happened on Boal St., a hillside street that overlooks Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine neighborhood. Here is the statement:

"Cincinnati: A house here (440 Boal St.) was rained on by something that was described as resembling 'watery blood except that it was oily." There was a little cloud overhead, and it seemed to be several colors, red, greens and pinks, which seemed to be the source of the oily stuff. The witness, who was outside during this, noticed his hands starting burning where this stuff had touched him. He went inside and washed, and when he came back out the cloud was gone and the rain had stopped. All his peach trees died in a short time, and grass where this stuff had fallen also died. No idea what this stuff was and there were no planes overhead to drop anything. Samples were taken and results were never shared with the owner. July 22, 1950."

This was found at the following site: http://rhandi.tripod.com/namerica.html.

It's possible that I misremembered this as a flying saucer incident. The details seem to be very close to what Kenny told me--and Kenny heard this firsthand from the owner of this house.  This house is visible from the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood (at least it was when I lived there). The side yard has many tall spruce or fir trees that that be seen from a half mile away.

The Death of Peacemaker John Leininger

Yesterday I received the shocking news that an old friend and fellow Peacemaker, John Leininger,  has died from an aggressive cancer diagnosed just weeks ago. Left behind is Alice Ann Carpenter, his partner for some 38 years, step-children Maureen and Jenny, grandchildren Jocelyn, Alaina, and Devlin, sons-in-law Chris and Donal, and so many other relatives and friends.

John was a courageous and active peacemaker and will be memorialized later this summer at a Cincinnati Unitarian church.
I first met John around 1973 at Peacemaker "foldings" (where the Peacemaker newsletter was folded and mailed) at the home of Marion and Ernest Bromley in Gano, Ohio. These foldings later moved to Alice Ann and John's home in the North Avondale neighborhood of Cincinnati.

I have wonderful memories of these Peacemaker foldings (and other activities like the conferences and "gatherings").  A lot of courageous people came to these foldings: Greg Haas, John Luginbill, Kenny Przybylski, Mary Alice Shepherd, Chuck Matthei, Peggy Scherer, Chris Cotter, Annie Weinkam . . . .[I'll mention more people in further postings].

Here is a website that John Leininger and Alice Ann Carpenter maintained for their crime and murder mystery books business: http://gravematters.com/ Photos of John and Alice Ann can be found at that site.

Winter of 1976-77 in Cincinnati

I'm pretty sure that the winter of 1977-78 was the snowiest in Cincinnati's history, culminating with the great blizzard of January 26, 1978 (see the previous blog entry). The coldest winter was the year before, the winter of 1976-77. I was living that year in a drafty old apartment on Hollister Street, not far from Vine Street (my rent was $40 a month, and worth every penny!), in the Corryville/Clifton neighborhood. I had a gas space-heater that kept the apartment a toasty 50 degrees on cold days.On the coldest days I tried to stay as many hours as possible at the University of Cincinnati, where I was studying for a masters degree in education. When I came back to my chilly apartment, I often got into a sleeping bed in an attempt to keep warm.

One night, on one of the coldest, snowiest days of that winter, Timmy Jenkins arrived in town, having hitchhiked from Winona, Minnesota. Tim is now a terrific old-timey fiddler and dance caller. Back then he was still mostly playing the harmonica and learning how to play the fiddle. It was always great fun when Tim was in town. Tim had attended Cotter High School in Winona with Kenny Przybylski. Both these guys were legends in our circle of friends.

One day that winter, January 18, 1977, the temperature in Cincinnati hit 25 below zero, the coldest temperature I had ever experienced. It's odd that me, a boy from Northeast Ohio, would experience the coldest weather way down south in Cincinnati, but that is what happened. I went for a walk that day trying to get a feel for that temperature. It was definitely different! I noticed how my exhaled breath resulted in ice on my mustache and beard. And I noticed the effect on my nose, ears, and cheeks. Twenty-five below zero is scary!

In January or February of 1977, the Ohio River froze over around Cincinnati--a very rare circumstance. This led many hundreds of people to walk across the river between Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky--what struck me as a dangerous and foolish trick with all the river currents moving below the river ice. Of course I have done many many such foolish things myself, including walking a mile out onto a frozen Lake Erie--off East 260th in Euclid-- around 1962-63. I did this with my brother Denny and my friend Buster Zylowski and his brother Kenny Z. (more on that adventure some day).

[There was an article, with photograph, from the Cincinnati Enquirer of Sunday, December 31, 2000 entitled "Don't look for river to freeze over soon" that talks about people walking across the frozen Ohio in January/February of 1977. Try the following link for the story: http://www.enquirer.com/editions/2000/12/31/loc_dont_look_for_river.html]

Mansfield House in Over-the-Rhine (#2)

I'm not sure who established the Mansfield House Community in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine. My guess is that the founders were Greg Haas (currently living in Bloomington, Indiana) and John Luginbill (still in Cincinnati, I think). The impulse to establish this community probably came from the Gano, Ohio-based Peacemakers and the movement against the Vietnam War. Also connected to the Peacemakers was the war-tax resistance and draft resistance movements. As you might expect, people drawn to these positions, which could involve prison, were a bit unusual--to say the least! Indeed, most of them were the brightest, most courageous, most-principled people I've ever known.

Other people in on the Mansfield House included Caroline Bromley, Dan Bromley, Bonnie Tompkins, Kenny Przybylski, Jack Shereda, Andy Meyer, and many others I will mention in this blog entry or in another entry.

The Communion of Saints

One of the Catholic doctrines that I really love is the belief in the Communion of Saints. The way I understand it is that we are all one big family, those who have passed on, those alive right now, and those not yet born. The doctrine is a kind of time machine, where past, present, and future are one. [Oops. My memory is a bit faulty. I still remember by heart many things I learned from the Baltimore Catechism, but I didn't exactly get the Communion of Saints right. It consists of the Church Militant (the living); the Church Suffering (those in purgatory); and the Church Triumphant (those in Heaven). I like my vision of this concept better!]

In this Communion of Saints, this time machine of love and caring, I think often of my Mom and Dad, of my in-laws, Ruth and Art Sanders, of my Gramma Coughlin, and of certain family and friends (Sr. Franzita Kane, Kenny Przybylski, et al). I pray for them and ask them to pray for me. Lately I've been thinking a lot of my Uncle Jack Coughlin and his tough life. I've been working on a poem about him that I will someday publish on this blog. I've also been thinking about my cousin, Jack Fitzpatrick, brutally murdered one Christmas 37 years ago as he waited in a line at Higbees to see Santa Claus with his small children. This past year Jack's wife, Mary Finnegan Fitzpatrick, died, and I think of Jack and Mary at this time of the year.

I also think about friends with physical ailments. I especially think of Jack Pendergast. He has our fervent prayers and thoughts. And we also pray for his wife Vicki. What a great day when we discovered this long-lost Coughlin cousin. Jack is the great family genealogist and the genius of Irish music with his work with Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann, the association of Irish musicians. We are thinking of you and praying for you Jack! And you too, Vicki!

We also pray for our friends and family members with emotional and psychological suffering. This kind of suffering spares no families--and if you are truthful, there's hardly a person alive who hasn't faced, at least for some period of time, such suffering. We pray for those suffering anxiety, depression, alcoholism, and other addictions.

In the Communion of Saints, we pray for and help each other.

Where Are They? People In and Out of Our Lives

People move in and out of our lives all the time, and sometimes it is very painful. Think about the huge losses when family members and friends die! I think about my Mom, my Dad, my mother-in-law, Ruth Sanders, my father-in-law, Art Sanders, my Gramma, Cora Bowers Coughlin, and so many uncles and aunts. Then there are my cousins, Tommy Fitzpatrick, killed in Vietnam in 1969; and his brother Jack, murdered while waiting in line with his children to see Santa Claus in 1971; and Tim Coughlin, dying early from brain cancer. And there have been friends: Kenny Przybylski, Jack Shereda, Chuck Matthei, Ernest and Marion Bromley, Maurice McCrackin, Steve Shields (Vietnam 1972), and others.

My Gramma Coughlin and her sister Edna Bowers Rosenfelder lived into their nineties, and by the end had lost so many people. Gramma even buried 2 of her own children: Fran ("Connie") and Jack. Mom lost her own mother when she was 16, and then lost her twin brothers, Dick and Don Fitzpatrick, when she was in her 30's. My family has accepted death, and they have never been destroyed by it--but that doesn't mean it isn't always hard! [Next blog entry will be on people still living who have moved in and out of our lives.]