Ohio history

A picture of the street sign named after Erma Bombeck

Long before mothers were blogging about their daily lives, Erma Bombeck’s syndicated newspaper column — “At Wit’s End” — acquired a legion of faithful followers by mixing her musings about marriage and motherhood with healthy doses of humor. Born and raised in Dayton, Erma certainly knew her subject. She and her husband, Bill, had three school-age children when, at age 37, she began writing the column on a makeshift desk in a bedroom of her suburban Centerville home.

Ken Duerksen puts the finishing touches on a lidded box at his garage worktable. (Photo by Karen Holcomb)

Ken Duerksen envisages art amid decay. He rescues cast-off wood pieces from burn piles and salvage yards and transforms them into beautiful objects, including organic sculpture, tableware, furniture, chopsticks, and bento boxes.

A group sits around a table as two impersonators visit with them.

Attractions across Ohio host dining events throughout the year that feature more than just food — the guests of honor include historic figures (actors, impersonators, or simply historians with a flair for the dramatic, most with Ohio ties) and make for enriching experiences that combine a dash of education with a huge helping of dinner theater.

A snow-covered road with large piles of snow on either side of it.

For most Ohioans, the first sign that something unusual was happening on that night 40 years ago was the shriek of a fierce, unrelenting wind.

In the late evening of Jan. 25, 1978, a low-pressure system from Canada met another low-pressure system from Texas. Such storms approach from opposite directions several times each winter, according to the National Weather Service. Usually they miss each other. This time they collided, causing what has come to be widely known as “the storm of the century.”

A small blue and yellow home is pictured.

The headlines in late 1950 looked grim for our boys on the front lines in the Korean War — and for the Ohio-based Lustron Corporation.

Literally, side by side, you could read newspaper columns across the country about Marines and soldiers facing the coldest winter imaginable as they sought to liberate South Korea from the Communist aggressors, and about the Lustron Corporation facing ruin as it was pushed out of the burgeoning post-World War II housing market. Both made national news.

Nelson Smith stands inside the Old Licking County Historic Jail

Imagine being 13 years old and going home every day for the next six years — to jail.

Nelson Smith, chairman of the board of The Energy Cooperative in Newark, called the Licking County Jail home for nearly the entire span of his teenage years, but not because he had committed any crimes. Smith moved into the Licking County Jail when his mother was hired in the early 1960s to be the head cook and jail matron, the person in charge of the female prisoners.