Back when we were teaching at Life on Wheels we spent a lot of time in southern Kentucky since one of our venues was at Western Kentucky University in Bowling Green. So it kind of felt like old home week when we were visiting our friends Tom and Barbara Westerfield just south of there in Franklin.

When we left them, we traveled north to Louisville on Interstate 65, then turned east on Interstate 71 for another 75 miles or so before hooking up with Interstate 75 for the short drive north to the Ohio River. This was only the second or third time we had ever taken Interstate 71, and I’m not a fan of it. Most of the way it’s a four lane divided highway, with quite a few hills and curves and lots of 18 wheelers in both lanes to keep you from making very good time. And, of course, Interstate 75 is a madhouse just about every mile of the way from Northern Michigan all the way down to Florida.

We had reservations at the Comfort Inn in Newport, Kentucky, just across the river from Cincinnati, Ohio. We were really pleased when we got there to discover they had upgraded us to a king suite on the fifth floor with an amazing view of the Cincinnati skyline across the river.

There was always a lot of traffic on the river, everything from small pleasure boats to barges, and even paddlewheel tour boats. Just sitting, watching it all go by was interesting and relaxing.

While it’s a clean, friendly community full of beautiful old homes and commercial buildings these days, Newport has quite a history, and it was not always pretty. Settled in the 1790s, the city’s strategic location on the Ohio River made it important both as a shipping point and as a military base. In 1803, a military post called Fort Washington moved there from Cincinnati and was renamed the Newport Barracks.

During the Civil War, both Union and Confederate recruiting officers were kept busy in Newport. The city was also a frequent stop for runaway slaves who knew if they could make it across the river to Ohio from there, they stood a good chance of escaping the slave hunters who were always hot on their trail.

When the Volstead Act brought prohibition to the United States in 1919, Newport became popular for its speakeasies, brothels, and gambling halls, earning it the name Sin City. Today Monmouth Street in Newport is home to interesting restaurants, shops, and boutiques, but back in the day it was the epicenter of corruption. No matter what your vice was, you could find it there.

We had dinner at two places on Monmouth Street, Mad Mike’s Burgers & Fries, which claims to have the best burgers in town. The portions were generous and the food was okay, but nothing to write home about, in my opinion. But right next door, Strong’s Brick Oven Pizzeria was outstanding. We’d go back there again anytime.

Newport’s wild and woolly days are long gone, and today the city has reinvented itself as a family friendly tourist destination, featuring the Newport Aquarium and the Newport on the Levee entertainment complex, with restaurants, a comedy club, pubs, and concerts.

Newport has a lot of neighborhoods that seem to be entities unto themselves, with their own corner stores, restaurants, taverns, and other small businesses.

We spent a lot of time just driving around the neighborhoods admiring the local architecture. There was a time when the big money financiers from across the river in Cincinnati built stately homes in Newport, though these days many of them have been converted to apartments and things like law offices.

This house was the boyhood home of old time television personality Durward Kirby, who was the sidekick on the old Garry Moore Show, and later on Candid Camera.

Some of the side streets are pretty narrow, and I wouldn’t want to drive an RV through them.

We had a good time in Newport, even if it’s no longer Sin City. Or maybe because it isn’t. But visiting Newport wasn’t our main reason for being in the area, and I’ll tell you about some of that in tomorrow’s blog, as well as about a series of coincidences we encountered that show we really do live in a small world.

Be sure to enter our latest Free Drawing. This week’s prize is an audiobook of Ken Rossignol’s The Chesapeake: A Man Born to Hang Can Never Drown. It’s a collection of adventures in prose from around the Chesapeake tidewater region told by an erstwhile and eclectic collection of bards, poets, and tale-tellers. Fans of short stories will enjoy this fourth book in the Chesapeake series and the valuable history shared about the Chesapeake region. To enter, all you have to do is click on this Free Drawing link or the tab at the top of this page and enter your name (first and last) in the comments section at the bottom of that page (not this one). Only one entry per person per drawing please, and you must enter with your real name. To prevent spam or multiple entries, the names of cartoon or movie characters are not allowed. The winner will be drawn Sunday evening.

Thought For The Day – Apparently I snore so loud that it scares everybody in the car I’m driving.

Except for the eight weeks I spent at Fort Knox for basic training when I first joined the Army, way back in 1971, and several visits during our RVing days, I have never lived in Kentucky. Yet I feel a strong affinity for the Bluegrass State for some reason. Maybe it’s because I read so many stories about Daniel Boone when I was growing up.

My family has had a connection to Kentucky going back several generations. My great-grandfather, John Sanders Stephens, lived in Ludlow, Kentucky and raised his family there. Ludlow sits on the bank of the Ohio River, just a stone’s throw away from Cincinnati, Ohio. Like many of the old river towns it has seen better days, but there is a movement underway to revitalize things. Most of the old buildings along the main street are home to small stores and shops, and all over town beautiful old brick homes are being restored.

On a previous trip through the area we had driven by my great-grandfather’s old house, which was occupied at the time, but we managed to take some pictures from the street.

Even finding the house was quite an accomplishment for us because the street address listed in my great-grandfather’s obituary doesn’t exist anymore. It was in the middle of an intersection. But on a visit to the Kenton County Library in Covington a few years ago, Miss Terry discovered the original plat maps for Ludlow and we learned that after a massive flood in the early 1900s the streets were realigned and new house numbers were assigned to many of the homes there. Working from those plat maps, we were able to find the old family home.

Things had changed when we went to Ludlow on our recent trip. We found the house sitting empty with a For Sale sign out front. Figuring that anybody who saw us prowling around would think we were potential buyers, we parked the van and did some exploring.

Looking in the windows I was able to get a couple of photographs. When great grandpa Stephens died, way back in 1919, his funeral service was held there in the living room, which was the custom in those days.

I remember my father talking about going to visit his grandparents when he was a child and a tornado coming through Ludlow. He said they all went outside in the pouring rain and down some stairs into the basement of the house for shelter until the storm passed. Here is the entrance to the basement they all went down.

The old house has been neglected and definitely needs to be refurbished. Just for the heck of it, I called the real estate agent listed on the sign, and she told me the house was under contract. I hope whoever buys it restores it.

Great-grandfather Stephens had four children, three sons and a daughter, Emma, who was my grandmother. Two of his sons became railroad men. Henry was an Engineer on the Southern Railroad, and another son, John, was a car repairman for the B&O Railroad. James, the youngest son, became a mover and shaker in the small riverfront community. He was the president of the First National Bank of Ludlow, he operated a real estate and insurance company, and was also the City Treasurer from 1909 to 1931. The building in the top picture is a flower shop now, but it was the bank during the time James was president, and the building in the bottom picture, which is right next door, housed his real estate and insurance agency.

Ludlow has a small historical museum but every time we came through town in the past, it was closed. As it turns out, due to a lack of volunteer staffing, it’s only open for a few hours on Saturdays. We made it a point to go back on a Saturday so we could check it out. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about that and some very interesting things I found out about my grandparents when they were young. Some of it really blew my mind, as folks used to say.

Today is your last chance to enter our latest Free Drawing. This week’s prize is an audiobook of Ken Rossignol’s The Chesapeake: A Man Born to Hang Can Never Drown. It’s a collection of adventures in prose from around the Chesapeake tidewater region told by an erstwhile and eclectic collection of bards, poets, and tale-tellers. Fans of short stories will enjoy this fourth book in the Chesapeake series and the valuable history shared about the Chesapeake region. To enter, all you have to do is click on this Free Drawing link or the tab at the top of this page and enter your name (first and last) in the comments section at the bottom of that page (not this one). Only one entry per person per drawing please, and you must enter with your real name. To prevent spam or multiple entries, the names of cartoon or movie characters are not allowed. The winner will be drawn this evening.

Thought For The Day – I’m still finding out who I am, but I know I’m not who I was.

We had a great time in the Cincinnati area and came away with several stories to share with you about some of the interesting places you can visit on your next trip to the Queen City in future blog posts. Whether you like historical sites like the Harriet Beecher Stowe House or the William Howard Taft National Historic Site, oddball attractions like the American Sign Museum, places that honor our heroes like the Cincinnati Fire Museum and the Cincinnati Police Museum, or sporting venues like Phil Brown Stadium, Cincinnati has plenty to offer. But eventually, even with all of that to keep us busy, it was time for us to move on.

Leaving the Cincinnati metropolitan area, we drove east on US Highway 52 along the north bank of the Ohio River. Designated as the Ohio River Scenic Byway, it’s a good road, divided four lane in some areas and two lane road in others, but all of it in good shape whether you are in an automobile or an RV. There are several laid back campgrounds along the route if you want to stop for a day or a week.

We spent some time in New Richmond, a small town with a tremendous amount of history. Founded in 1804, New Richmond was a hotbed of abolitionist activity prior to the Civil War. It was here, in 1836, that James G Birney launched his famous abolitionist newspaper, The Philanthropist.

Several buildings in the town have been designated as having connections to the Underground Railroad, a system of safe houses and caring people who sheltered runaway slaves.

Many fugitive slaves made their way across the Ohio River to New Richmond, knowing that if they could make it that far they had a good chance of staying free. Not that slave hunters weren’t still to be feared, but at least in New Richmond the runaways weren’t on their own. In 1862, slave hunters hooted and hollered as they proudly paraded a captured slave named LeRoy Lee in shackles down Front Street to the ferry landing, intending to take him back across the river to Kentucky. But their joy was short lived. Alerted to what was happening, a crowd of New Richmond citizens confronted the armed slave hunters, demanding the release of the poor man. Realizing that they were greatly outnumbered, the slave catchers turned him over to the crowd and left. Lee went on to enlist in the Union Army to help in the struggle to end slavery in America..

This was the home of Methodist minister George C. Light, an agent for the American Colonization Society. Founded in 1816, the organization’s goal was to return free blacks to Africa. The group’s efforts resulted in the establishment of the country of Liberia.

While we stopped in New Richmond because of its anti-slavery history, while we were there we stumbled across another one of those little hidden gems that most people drive right past and never realize exist. In this case, it was the World’s Only Cardboard Boat Racing Museum. How could we not stop and check out a place like that?

I’m not talking about little paper boats you float around in a pond, these are boats that people make out of cardboard, paint, and duct tape, and actually race on the Ohio River. Some of the creations were absolutely amazing, and I’ll be posting a blog dedicated to the museum soon.

Another five miles down the road brought us to Point Pleasant, where we stopped to visit the U.S. Grant Birthplace State Historic Site that honors the Civil War hero who became the eighteenth president of the United States.

The Grant Memorial Bridge, located just a few yards from the house where Grant was born, is a handsome stone and concrete structure. This bridge, built in 1985, replaced the original bridge here, which was built in 1927.

Half an hour east of Point Pleasant we came to Ripley, another friendly little river town. It was here that leading abolitionist John Rankin, a Presbyterian minister, opened his home to fugitive slaves, putting his own life and the lives of his family at risk to help them gain freedom.

We stopped for a late lunch/early dinner in Portsmouth, another town with a lot of history. Unfortunately, unlike New Richmond, 90 miles to the east, black people were not always welcome in Portsmouth, whether they be free blacks or escaped slaves. In 1804, bowing to pressure from the slave states to the south, the Ohio state legislature passed what became known as the “Black Laws” that put restrictions on the movement of free blacks and required them to carry paperwork at all times to prove they weren’t fugitive slaves. Based upon these laws, in 1831, many free black residents of Portsmouth were forced out of the city.

Not that all people in Portsmouth felt the same way by any means. The Underground Railroad was just as active there as in other places. One of the leading abolitionists from Portsmouth was James Ashley, who went on to be elected to Congress. Ashley wrote the Thirteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, which abolished slavery in 1865, at the close of the Civil War.

In tomorrow’s blog I’ll tell you about our trip through West Virginia on the worst 175 miles of highway we have driven in all of our years of exploring this country from coast to coast and border to border. Let’s just say that it’s no place you ever want to take an RV!

Thought For The Day – Fruit cocktail is the most disappointing of all the cocktails.

Ever since I first heard John Denver sing about West Virginia I always wanted to go there and see those beautiful mountains and green valleys he sang about. While I always enjoyed the man’s music, apparently the part of West Virginia that John Denver was familiar with wasn’t along US Highway 52. We’ve covered a lot of miles in a lot of places over the years, and I think this was the worst 175 miles we ever traveled.

We crossed the Ohio River at Ashland, Kentucky on a nice steel girder bridge and I didn’t even snivel. I’m not sure if that is because we were driving the Chrysler Pacifica, which sits down much lower than our motorhome did, or maybe Jumping Joe’s ghost from my blog a couple of days ago was sitting in the backseat telling me not to be such a wimp.

Ashland is a beautiful town but we didn’t see much of it since we were just passing through. Before long we crossed into West Virginia and turned south on US Highway 52. Looking at the map, I knew the route had some twists and turns in it, but I figured being a US Highway, it should be suitable for eighteen wheelers and things like that. Maybe it is, but anybody driving a big rig down that road is a better man or woman than I’ll ever be. I strongly urge all of our RVing readers to avoid this route at all costs. It’s the trip from hell.

The odometer on the Pacifica hit 10,000 miles just after we entered West Virginia, almost 13 months to the day from the time we bought it. Except for our rush trip out to Arizona after my daughter Tiffany’s medical issues last year, and a couple of short trips, we don’t drive it all that much. We bought it to be our traveling vehicle, and around town we drive the Explorer or the pickup.

Known locally as the “The King Coal Highway,” US 52 weaves its way along the West Virginia/Kentucky border through what was once a thriving coal mining region. The coal industry has declined dramatically over the years, leaving a lot of depressing small towns with their empty business buildings and neglected homes. In some places it seemed like even the trees don’t want to be there, and in the middle of summer the leaves and hillsides looked bare.

We quickly learned that the highway was in very poor shape. In several places the pavement had collapsed and we had to swing into the other lane to avoid sunken holes that looked like they could swallow half of our minivan. I thought a time or two that we should look for another route, but I kept telling myself things had to get better. They didn’t. And after a certain point, there wasn’t an easy way to get off and pick up an alternate route that would have been any better, so we just kept on going.

There were sharp curves to keep me on my toes and I seldom got above 45 miles per hour. And even then, it was in short stretches before I had to slow down again for more hairpin curves.

Yes, that sign says an 11% downhill grade. And there were several more of them along the way!

This was the land where the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s had their terrible feud that started right after the Civil War and went on for almost 30 years, with hostilities flaring up every so often. I told Terry there a lot of theories about how the feud started, but my own is that they were arguing over who would take the land, because neither side wanted to live there.

Even before the feuding mountaineers came along, this region saw a lot of violence as settlers and Indians battled for dominance. We stopped to read a historical marker telling us that at nearby Horsepen Mountain, Boiling Baker, a white leader of the Shawnee tribe who was married to Aracoma, the daughter of the great Chief Cornstalk, held a bunch of horses stolen from white settlements. When their owners raised a large posse to come after them, the resulting battle decimated the tribe.

Much of the route follows the Tug Fork, a meandering river where we saw quite a few fishermen and kayakers at different places along the way.

Railroad tracks paralleled the highway miles at a time. Once busy during the days of King Coal, I’m not sure how much use they get these days.

ATVs seem to be as popular as cars and pickups through this area, and we saw a lot of people riding them both on and off the road.

In several places the highway bypassed the towns, as it did in Welch, which looked like it was more prosperous than many of the communities we passed through. Or maybe that was just because we were seeing it at a distance.

Eventually, almost five hours after we started out, we left Highway 52 with no regrets except for the fact that we ever got on it in the first place, and picked up Interstate 77, which took us south about 25 miles to Whytheville, Virginia, where we checked into the Hampton Inn, worn out from a long day on a bad road.

Thought For The Day – Look, all I’m saying is if we’re both going to hell anyway, we might as well carpool.

When it comes to supplying men who would go on to hold the highest office in the land, only the state of Virginia has been the birthplace of more future presidents than Ohio. Seven men from the Buckeye State would eventually live in the White House. One of the most colorful them was unquestionably Ulysses S. Grant.

Born Hiram Ulysses Grant on April 27, 1822, the man who would lead the Union army to victory during the Civil War and then be elected president came from very humble beginnings. Located just a stone’s throw from the Ohio River, there is not a lot to Point Pleasant, Ohio today, but back then it was just a huddle of simple homes on what was considered the frontier. The small wooden frame house where Grant was born was one of them.

The family didn’t stay there long, moving to nearby Georgetown when young Hiram was about a year old. He grew up there, helping his father run his tannery business, hauling freight, and earning a reputation as a hard-working and honest young man.

It’s certain that when the Grant family moved away from Point Pleasant, they never imagined their old house would someday become a “mobile” home. But that’s exactly what happened.

At the end of the Civil War, Grant was a national hero, and nowhere was he celebrated more than in his own home state of Ohio. After he died, in 1885, everybody wanted to celebrate his life and his achievements. To help further that effort, the house where he was born became a traveling memorial to the hometown boy who made good.

The house was carefully disassembled piece by piece, put on a towboat, and taken downriver to Cincinnati. There the house was carefully rebuilt and put on display in Goodale Park during the centennial celebration of the Northwest Territory. Thousands of people lined up to tour the house and were thrilled to be in what they considered the presence of such greatness.

In 1888, the house was disassembled once again and moved to Columbus, Ohio, to be rebuilt for new long lines of crowds eager to see the home where the great man was born.

But people everywhere wanted to see the house, not just in Ohio. So eventually it was put on a railroad car and traveled the country, drawing crowds wherever it stopped. When it arrived in the town, it attracted more visitors than any traveling circus ever would.

Eventually the house was returned to Columbus and put on display at the state fairgrounds. It remained there until 1936, when it was taken apart, loaded onto trucks, and moved once again, this time to back to Point Pleasant, where it was erected back on its original foundation. The president’s “mobile” home’s traveling days were over.

Today the house is managed by Historic New Richmond, Inc. under the auspices of the Ohio History Connection. It is open to visitors from 10 AM to 5 PM Wednesday – Saturday and Sundays from 1 to 5 PM, May through September, and by appointment year-round. Parking is limited and RVs might find it difficult, so you are advised to leave your rig at a local campground and drive your car or tow vehicle when you visit. The street address for your GPS is 1551 State Route 232, Point Pleasant, Ohio. For more information, call 800 283-8932.

Have you entered our latest Free Drawing yet? This week’s prize is an audiobook of my friend Suzie O’Connell’s Starlight Magic, from her popular Northwest romance series. To enter, all you have to do is click on this Free Drawing link or the tab at the top of this page and enter your name (first and last) in the comments section of the bottom of that page (not this one). To prevent spam or multiple entries, the names of cartoon or movie characters are not allowed. The winner will be drawn Sunday evening.

Thought For The Day – Have you ever listened to someone talk for a while and then wondered, “Who ties your shoelaces for you?”

Note: This story is from my book Highway History And Back Road Mystery II, available on Amazon.

In the charming little town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia, located on the bank of the wide Ohio River, we discovered the story of pioneer heroine Ann Bailey, whose life and adventures have become a part of the folklore of the region.

Born Anne Hennis in Liverpool, England, around 1742, Anne was orphaned as a teenager and came to America to live with an uncle’s family that had settled near Staunton, in the wild Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. She married a settler named Richard Trotter in 1765 and the couple had one son, whom they named William.

Richard Trotter was killed at the Battle of Point Pleasant on October 10, 1774, when militia troops commanded by Lord Dunmore were ambushed by Indians lead by the Shawnee war chief Cornstalk.

Her husband’s death had a profound effect on Anne and changed her life forever. She soon left her son with friends and set out to avenge Richard Trotter’s death. Anne became a skilled frontier scout and hunter, as capable as any frontiersman of the time. Armed with a hatchet, knife, and long rifle, she dressed in men’s buckskins and roamed from settlement to settlement, carrying messages, urging men to join the militia to fight the British and their Indian allies, and helping seek out roaming Indian war parties. Anne was well liked and respected by everyone who knew her and was welcomed in the cabins of settlers everywhere she went.

In 1785, Anne married John Bailey, who was a scout and Indian fighter. They moved to Clendenin’s Settlement (present day Charleston, West Virginia) in the Great Kanawha Valley, where Anne won her place in history during the siege of a frontier stockade called Fort Lee. Under attack by a large force of Indians, and with their supply of ammunition running low, things looked grim for the fort’s defenders and the settlers who had taken refuge inside.

Mounting a sturdy black horse, Anne made a mad dash through the Indians surrounding the fort, unmindful of the arrows and musket balls that flew past her. She rode 100 miles across wild territory to Fort Savannah (present day Lewisburg, West Virginia) and secured a supply of gunpowder, then rode back through the Indians again to deliver it to Fort Lee. Anne’s feat was commemorated in Charles Robb’s epic 1861 poem titled “Anne Bailey’s Ride.”

Anne was known forever after as the Heroine of the Kanawha Valley. As a reward for her courageous actions, the settlers at Fort Lee gave Anne the horse she had ridden in her wild adventure. She named the steed Liverpool, after her hometown back in England, and rode him for many years.

She was a bit of an oddity on the frontier and became known as Mad Anne Bailey for her exploits. There are many stories about Anne Bailey, many of them exaggerated, and some of which she no doubt spread herself, since she was known as a popular storyteller. One tale has her being chased by an Indian war party. When she came to a dense thicket, Anne jumped down from her horse and hid inside of a hollow log to escape. The warriors grabbed Liverpool’s reins, then tried to find Ann’s hiding place without success. Eventually tiring, they sat down to rest on the same log that Anne was hiding inside of.

She waited quietly until the Indians had moved on, and then followed their trail on foot. Under cover of darkness, while the Indians slept, Anne crept into their camp, untied Liverpool and led him away. When she was safely out of rifle range, she mounted her horse, woke the Indians with a wild shout of defiance, and then rode away.

Not all of Anne’s achievements involved warfare. She is credited with bringing both the first pair of geese and the first copper whiskey still into the Kanawha Valley. With the end of the Revolutionary War and with the Indians finally subdued, life on the frontier became somewhat safer, though it was never easy. The Bailey’s settled down near present-day Charleston, where they lived until John Bailey’s death, in 1802.

Twice widowed, Anne then made her home with her son William and his family at Point Pleasant but spent much of her time traveling throughout the region as a messenger, trader, and storyteller. For several years Anne was employed as a mail carrier and express messenger, carrying letters between Point Pleasant, Lewisburg, and Staunton. In 1817, William sold his farm and moved across the river to Gallia County, Ohio, and Anne went along. After a lifetime of danger and adventure, the brave frontierswoman, who was fearless in the face of Indian attacks and British troops, died peacefully in her sleep, on November 22, 1825.

Anne was originally buried in Ohio, but in 1901 her remains were moved to Tu-Endie-Wei Park in Point Pleasant, West Virginia. The park includes a monument to the militiamen who died at the Battle of Point Pleasant in 1774. Anne’s headstone, on which her name is misspelled, has a plaque telling of some of her exploits on the frontier.

Anne Bailey has been gone for almost 200 years, but her memory lives on still today. Several locations in West Virginia bear Anne Bailey’s name, including a school, a park, and a lookout tower in Watoga State Park.

Congratulations Dave Rodgers, winner of our drawing for an audiobook of Hands of Onyx, book 2 in the Sav’ine series by Stacy Bender. We had 19 entries this time around. Stay tuned, a new contest starts soon.

Thought For The Day – Common sense can cure ignorance, but there is no cure for stupidity!

First settled in 1788, the rough frontier outpost where the mighty Ohio River and the Licking River come together grew to become a major industrial boomtown and shipping port for riverboats, earning it the nickname the Queen City of the West. Today everybody knows it by its formal name, Cincinnati, Ohio.

For most of the 19th century, Cincinnati was among the top 10 US cities in population, with only a few of the long-established big cities of the East and New Orleans ahead of it. It was the first city founded after the American Revolution, and the first major city inland from the Atlantic Coast.

Concerned about the danger of fire more than criminal activity, when the original settlement incorporated as a village in 1802, one of the first things they did was create a night watch to guard against fire and any misdeeds someone might try to commit under the cover of darkness. That night watch grew to become the modern Cincinnati Police Department, an organization that now fields some 1,000 sworn police officers and over 125 civilian employees working in everything from records to dispatch to administrative duties.

To honor the men and women who have served Cincinnati and the surrounding communities on both sides of the Ohio River, the Greater Cincinnati Police Museum tells the stories of these brave public servants with displays of police uniforms, weapons, police equipment, and a Gallery of Heroes to remember those who sacrificed all for the greater good.

Visitors to the museum are greeted by Handsome, the taxidermized remains of Cincinnati’s first police dog. Youngsters always gather around the glass case to look at the dog as soon as they enter the museum. While Handsome was not an official member, he seemed to teach himself the skills that would make him useful to the Department. He was a first rate ambassador for the police department, was so loved by officers and the community in general that the police chief would let him ride in his car during parades.

From there, you can browse cases filled with police firearms as well as weapons confiscated from criminals. The collection includes everything from homemade knives and clubs to police billy sticks and service revolvers, and even a Depression-era Thompson submachine gun. One case has a gruesome display of weapons used in murders, including everything from handguns to hammers.

Moving on, a display shows uniforms worn by officers of the Cincinnati Police Department from the earliest days to the present.

The museum’s communications display demonstrates how far technology has come in the way that police officers are dispatched to calls, from the days of the earliest street corner call boxes to today’s highly computerized systems that can monitor an officer’s location and progress instantly.

Visitors can also see investigative equipment such as lie detectors and fingerprinting machines.

Be careful not to get in trouble while you are visiting the museum, they have a jail cell you can spend some time in. Fortunately, the iron bars of the door are never locked, so you don’t have to stay long.

There is an impressive displays of police badges and patches, including the largest collection of detective badges anywhere.

Another popular item on display at the museum is a 1965 Harley-Davidson Electra Glide Police Special motorcycle that was once used by officers of the Newport, Kentucky Police Department.

Active duty and retired police officers as well as civilians serve as volunteer docents giving tours at the museum. These people are a wealth of knowledge and can share stories that will do everything from make you laugh out loud to bring a sad tear to your eye.

There’s a lot to see and do at the Greater Cincinnati Police Museum, and it is well worth a stop the next time you visit Cincinnati. The museum is located at 308 Reading Road and is open Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday from 10 A.M. to 4 P.M. Admission is $8 for adults, $7 for seniors age 65 and older, and $6 for children ages 7 to 17.

Free parking is available for museum visitors in front of the building. A temporary Police Museum parking permit is required and can be picked up in the Museum’s gift shop. Parking is limited to passenger size vehicles, access for larger RVs would be difficult in the area streets. For more information, call (513) 300-3664 or visit the Museum’s website at http://police-museum.org/

It’s Thursday, so it’s time for a new Free Drawing. This week’s prize is an audio book of undone, the first book in my buddy Jason Deas’ new Burt Bigsley mystery series. To enter, all you have to do is click on this Free Drawing link or the tab at the top of this page and enter your name (first and last) in the comments section at the bottom of that page (not this one). Only one entry per person per drawing please, and you must enter with your real name. To prevent spam or multiple entries, the names of cartoon or movie characters are not allowed. The winner will be drawn Sunday evening.

Thought For The Day – If you don’t heal what hurt you, you’ll bleed all over people who didn’t cut you.

More than once I have joked that I come from a long line of horse thieves, card sharks, shady ladies, and other assorted riffraff. I’ve always claimed that in jest, but it appears I wasn’t that far off the mark.

As I mentioned before, I recently got a subscription to Newspapers.com to do research on a book project I have been kicking around in my head. Yesterday I was looking through some old Cincinnati newspapers and plugged in the name of John Sanders Stephens, my great-grandfather, who lived across the Ohio River from Cincinnati, in Ludlow, Kentucky. I didn’t find anything new on him, but I did find some information on one of his grandsons, a first cousin one time removed, also named John.

Most of great-grandfather Stephens’ family seem to have been great citizens who made a lot of contributions to the community, including one of his sons, James, who was president of the First National Bank of Ludlow, as well as the City Treasurer of Ludlow for many years.

But not my ne’er-do-well cousin. According to newspaper records, in 1936 his wife divorced him on grounds of desertion. Two years later, he was hauled before the judge and given 30 days for failure to provide child support for the two children of that union. The newspaper article reported that the judge said the defendant had been in his courtroom for the same charges several times previously. Then, in 1939, he was charged with cutting another man in a barroom fight. And as if that was not enough, that same year he was sentenced to a year in prison for stealing 47 chickens. Again, the newspaper said it was not the first time he had been charged with theft. I had to stop reading about that time, because I didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or to hang my head in shame.

I guess when you shake your family tree, you have got to expect a few nuts to fall out, don’t you?

After an endless round of frustrations with KDP, Amazon’s book publishing division, the new covers for the print editions of the first four Big Lake books have finally been changed. And, for those of you who prefer a printed book over an e-book, the print edition of Big Lake Wedding is now available. You can order it at this link.

And finally, here’s another chuckle to start your day from the collection of funny signs we see in our travels and that our readers share with us.

Over 125 people have entered our latest Free Drawing. This week’s prize is an autographed copy of Terry’s popular cookbook, Miss Terry’s Kitchen. I don’t care if you can’t even boil water, if you follow her recipes and directions, you’ll be the hit at any campground potluck dinner or with your own family every time they sit down at the table. To enter, click on this Free Drawing link or the tab at the top of this page and enter your name (first and last) in the comments section at the bottom of that page (not this one). Only one entry per person per drawing please, and you must enter with your real name. To prevent spam or multiple entries, the names of cartoon or movie characters are not allowed. The winner will be drawn Sunday evening.

Thought For The Day – If you think I’m crazy, you should meet my relatives. I had to adapt to my surroundings to survive!

Note: Since most of yesterday was taken up with doctor appointments and then a long MRI that started at 6:30 p.m., I’m too tired to write a blog. So here is a repeat of one from 2012 that visitors to the Midwest might enjoy.

Tucked away on a back road just two miles north of busy Interstate 74 in eastern Indiana, the small town of Oldenburg is a charming escape from the fast food restaurants and generic traveler’s services along the highway.

Founded in the late 1830s by a group of German settlers who named the town in honor of their home, the province of Oldenburg in Northern Germany, Oldenburg is home to less than 700 people, and the strong German influence is still evident. Restaurants serve German food, the architecture of many of the buildings reflect an Old World style with their tin facades and cornices, and street signs are in both German and English.

Listed on the National Register of Historic Places, Oldenburg is known as the Village of Spires because of the churches that cluster around the small downtown area. It is amazing how many large churches this small community has!

German Catholics coming from Cincinnati erected the first church, a log building, in 1837. Fr. Franz Joseph Rudolf was appointed Pastor of Oldenburg in 1844. He in turn, invited sister Theresa Hackelmeier to establish the Sisters of St. Francis Community.

At just 24 years old, Sister Theresa sailed from Vienna, Austria to New York, and then traveled down the Erie Canal and Ohio River until she reached Lawrenceburg, Indiana, where she was met by horse and buggy to be taken to Oldenburg. She founded the Sisters of St. Francis of Oldenburg in 1851, and became Mother Theresa.

The order would teach the German-speaking children of Oldenburg and care for children orphaned by a cholera epidemic that raged through southeastern Indiana in 1847.

The Sisters went on to open numerous schools in the Midwest. Their first school, St, Francis Normal School for Women, was formed in 1851 as a training school for teachers. It later became a four-year, state approved institution known today as Marian College, known for its strong professional programs. The order is still an important part of Oldenburg’s community.

It’s fun just to drive around town, admiring the old buildings. Of the roughly 115 homes in the historic district, 80 were constructed of stone or wood or a combination of the two. Brick structures were not built until after 1858, when the Gehring opened on the south edge of town. Following the Old World tradition, many of the buildings in the community combine a shop on the bottom floor with the owner’s residence upstairs.

Besides the church spires, Oldenburg’s other claim to fame are the 30 or so brightly painted fire hydrants around town that look like everything from farmers and nuns to cartoon characters. There are even posters in the local businesses displaying them. We spent another hour or so cruising around from street to street taking pictures of the hydrants.

The Freudenfest  (“fun day”) takes place every year in July and is known as the biggest little German festival in Indiana. Activities range from a pie auction to a beer stein holding endurance contest, wine tastings, games, music, and food. All proceeds from the event go to help preserve Oldenburg’s historic heritage.

In December, during the Holidays Under the Spires Christmas celebration, Christmas cheer takes over the streets. Carolers sing traditional holiday songs, there are sleigh rides, wine tastings and goodwill for all.

There are only a handful of businesses in Oldenburg, but one we enjoyed during our visit was the Brau Haus. The service was very good and the food was excellent, especially the pepper-fried chicken and the sauerkraut balls.

Whether you go for the church spires, the fire hydrants, the good German food, or the festivals, the friendly people of Oldenburg will make you feel welcome anytime you visit.

Thought For The Day – Ignoring the red flags because you want to see the good in people can bite you on the butt.

Note: I have already shared some of our activities while we were in Ohio and the trip there from Florida in previous blog posts. Now I will do several posts telling you a bit about our trip home.

I have to keep reminding myself, with Terry’s help, that we are no longer working on the road and don’t have to be at a rally for a speaking engagement, so there’s no reason not to stop and smell the roses along the way. We tried to do that as much as possible on the trip home, taking several days and sticking to US highways and state routes as much as possible.

When we left the Hampton Inn in Rossford, Ohio, we took US Highway 23 south through some beautiful farmland and charming small towns. We saw several very nice old houses in Fostoria and said it would be cool to have a place like that in Florida. No way do either of us want to live in snow country again!

Marion was home to President Warren G. Harding, and as we drove through town we recalled our visit to his home and tomb there early in our days as fulltime RVers. We sure saw a lot of interesting places in our 18 years on the road!

We stopped for lunch at a subway in Delaware, a small town where everybody seems to know everybody. But I guess it’s that way in most small towns, right? That’s why I love them. You can sit in any small town restaurant in America, and with a bit of casual eavesdropping you will know who just got a new job, who got fired, who is pregnant, and who is cheating on their significant other. Trust me, I ran small town newspapers for much of my working life, and there is plenty of scandal and drama going on in them!

With lunch out of the way we continued south to Columbus, skirting around the city on the Interstate 270 bypass, and within a couple of hours we were crossing the Ohio River into West Virginia. It was starting to get dark by then so Terry took the wheel about an hour out of Charleston.

I have a love/hate relationship with West Virginia. Singer John Denver was right in praising its scenic beauty, but those country roads he sang about really suck sometimes. And even their interstates leave a lot to be desired in some areas.

We spent the night at Hampton Inn in Charleston, walking across the parking lot to a Quaker Steak and Lube, a small restaurant chain with a racing theme, for dinner. There were a couple of race cars hanging off the ceiling and lots of racing signs and such. The food was very good and our server was excellent.

It had turned cold while we were in Ohio, and the cold front seemed to be following us south. We were sure glad we brought sweatshirts and jackets along for the trip! With just over 300 miles under our belts for the day, we were ready for bed and new adventures the next day.

Thought For The Day – People who wonder if the glass is half empty or half full miss the point. The glass is refillable.