Ohio history

A painting of Constantine Rafinesque-Schmaltz

Constantine Rafinesque-Schmaltz is the scientist you did not know that you knew. His walkabouts through Ohio impressed upon him a desire to discover more about plants and fishes and a prehistoric culture that predated him by millennia. 

The family moved to Italy to escape the terrors of the French Revolution. It was there that a self-educated Constantine came of age and took an ardent interest in natural history and languages, which would come to have its consequences in the names of organisms — through the eastern U.S., in Ohio, and even into the American Southwest. 

Great Council State Park welcome center

Of Ohio’s 88 counties, eight are named for Indian tribes: Delaware, Erie, Huron, Miami, Ottawa, Seneca, Tuscarawas, and Wyandot.

In development since 2019, Ohio’s newest state park is located along U.S. Route 68 just north of Xenia, where “Old Chillicothe” — a historic Shawnee village — once stood. As Gov. Mike DeWine said at its June 2024 grand opening, “The land had a story that needed to be told.”

A ribbon cutting for the first of four planned “Heritage of Freedom” trails in the state commemorating Ohio’s contribution to the Underground Railroad.

Along the eastern edge of Alum Creek State Park in central Ohio runs a thoroughfare called Africa Road. I’ve lived in the general vicinity for years, and the road’s name always seemed a bit odd to me. 

Late last fall, just off Africa Road in Alum Creek State Park, the ODNR unveiled the first of four planned “Heritage of Freedom” trails in the state commemorating Ohio’s contribution to the Underground Railroad. “The Underground Railroad is a key part of Ohio’s history,” says Mary Mertz, director of ODNR. “This Heritage of Freedom Trail serves as a visual history lesson and provides an immersive way to see what freedom-seekers faced in Ohio’s natural environment during this time in history.”   

A statue of Wheeling Gaunt in downtown Yellow Springs, Ohio

During the first holiday season after the death of her husband, the noted local artist Jack Hubbard, in 1987, Pat Hubbard received a curious gift delivered to her Yellow Springs home: two sacks — one filled with flour, the other with sugar.

“Wheeling Gaunt was a person of faith and a very resilient man who did not let adversity beat him down; he used it as a motivation to achieve,” says Brenda Hubbard Ibarra, Jack and Pat’s daughter. Although she had been born and raised in Yellow Springs, Ibarra was unaware of Gaunt’s story until her mother started getting those gifts. Inspired, she immersed herself in researching that history, and in 2021, she self-published Legacy of Grace: Musings on the Life and Times of Wheeling Gaunt.

A white house flying a Blue Star Flag

Ohio seems to have a bit of a thing with flags. It’s not just that our state flag is the only one out of the 50 that is not a rectangle (an interesting story in its own right).

You might have seen a service flag: a blue star (or stars) on a field of white, surrounded by a red border — hanging in the picture window of a seemingly random home in the neighborhood or in a shop window of a downtown building. But many folks might be unaware, or at least unsure, of its significance.

Roger Moore of Mansfield, Ohio

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.

The Crosskeys Tavern, Chillicothe

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.

The Crosskeys Tavern

19 E. Main St., Chillicothe

Dorothy Montgomery

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.”

A vintage airplane flying in the sky.

Technically, the Vinton County Air Show has been around longer than the Vinton County Airport has been open. The first was in 1969, the year after the runway was built near McArthur as part of Gov.

The group of locals with a passion for aviation has managed and maintained the airport and its 3,750-long runway since 1992. The air show — now one of the longest-running non-military, free air shows in Ohio — is its largest source of funding (the air show itself is free; boosters raise money by asking for parking donations and serving one of the best chicken dinners around).

The third Sunday each September, the Vinton County Air Show draws spectators by the thousands in search of family fun, highlighted by daredevil stunts, high-flying aerobatics, and a skydiving Santa Claus. 

A statue of Meriweather Lewis and William Clark at Falls of the Ohio State Park in Clarksville, Indiana.

The Shawnees called it Spaylaywitheepi. When French traders and trappers arrived during the 18th century, they described it as the Iroquois had: La Belle Rivière — the beautiful river.

Seeing the Ohio today, it’s difficult to believe that, in its original state, the river was a naturally shallow stream, varying in depth from only about 3 to 20 feet. And during annual periods of low water, such as late summer and early fall, a person could literally walk across the Ohio River on the stream’s bottom at many spots. You’d certainly get wet, possibly up to your waist or so, but the feat could be accomplished.