Ohio is generally a dog-friendly state — more than a third (36.6 percent) of the state’s households include a canine resident — and research tells us that nearly two-thirds of dog owners consider their pup to be a member of the family. So when summer travel beckons, it’s nice to know where your tail-wagging pal can come along for the ride.
Ohio electric cooperative leaders joined more than 2,000 of their counterparts from around the country in April to discuss legislative and regulatory concerns with members of Congress at the 2018 NRECA Legislative Conference in Washington, D.C.
The conference, held annually, allows co-op leaders to build relationships with policymakers that improve their members’ lives every day.
You descend from a long line of walkers. Walking was a way of life for virtually all of your ancestors. Other forms of conveyance, from bicycles to jet propulsion, are, in the scheme of things, quite new to us.
This primal form of getting from one place to another is an elixir: it burns some calories, improves your heart’s health — and takes the wrinkle out of your brow.
In a way, the scene was reminiscent of 1930s and ’40s rural America: two out-of-the-way villages getting electricity for the first time. This past March, however, the setting was a remote area of Central America, where a team of 17 linemen from Ohio electric cooperatives traveled to the villages of Las Tortugas and San Jorge, in northern Guatemala, on a humanitarian mission to supply electricity for the first time to the small villages.
There’s an idealistic nature about rural and small-town Ohio. People know their neighbors, they support their community, and they take care of each other when families face tough times. On its surface, it’s like Mayberry — but better, because it’s real.
With all of the wonderful aspects of small-town life in Ohio, however, there are challenges, and right now, one of the toughest of those is a growing struggle with mental health problems.
It was 25 minutes past noon when I scored the last serving of the Friday lunch special — scalloped potatoes and ham — at the Auction Restaurant in Shipshewana, Indiana. Just seconds after I ordered, a young man sat down and asked for the special too. “It’s all gone,” said the waitress, a pleasant, middle-aged woman wearing an apron, plain blue dress, and white bonnet. “Well, I was wanting it all morning,” he complained, then settled for a prime rib sandwich.
