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US 127

Writers Historical posted on Jan 23, 2010
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Description


Drive to Cincinnati US-127 is 758 miles long starting in Grayling Michigan in the north with Chattanooga Tennessee at its southern terminus. While visiting friends and family back in September, 2007, T J and I drove from Dayton to Cincinnati along what was considered a back-road; US-127. Our upper route was lined with greenish-yellow fields of soy bean, acres of crowded corn stalks whose fields were dotted with tiny villages. South of Dayton, we slowed to 25mph entering the village of West Manchester with a population 433 citizens. T J distracted me with a question, “Who won the Yankee Mariners game yesterday?” I glanced at her sitting beside me in the passenger seat in disbelief and when I looked ahead again we were past the village where a traffic sign advised that the speed limit had increased back to 55 mph. I thought her question was a trick one since I wasn't sure that Mariners was a legitimate baseball team. The village disappeared in a glance without registering anything about itself except the size; minuscule. The incorporated village of Eaton was next. The two villages, West Manchester and Eaton were joined by enormous, farms with grandiose farmsteads. This time I asked T J a question, “What,” I said, can you tell me about Eaton?” “That's easy,” she replied. “Travis Miller, a one time pitcher for the Minnesota Twins lived here.” “You're making that up,” I said. “Absolutely not.” By the time our verbal exchange was finished we were out of Eaton and were heading down towards Camden, the birth place of Sherwood Anderson. In 1919, Sherwood Anderson published a collection of short stories called, Winesburg, Ohio. That works effect on American fiction was significant, and its writing voice can be heard in Hemingway, Faulkner, Steinbeck and others. While our personal philosophy tended to be, 'live in the moment,' it was exciting to touch places where the past made an enduring mark. We stopped at the Depot Dairy Bar in Camden for a cold drink and discovered their menu included pizza, Chinese dishes, burgers and more. For a lilliputian-town restaurant it had a big town assortment. It was here, while sipping a coke, that T J unleashed a segment of her vast knowledge of Ohio history by telling me that, Myron Scott of Camden, was more famous than Sherwood Anderson. His claim on history was as creator of the all American, Soap Box Derby. As a boy I once had aspirations of competing with my own gravity pulled contraption. That dream of mine faded as I matured into manhood. Sitting there with T J talking, I began to imagine that both Scott and Anderson had eaten here and I could actually feel the pull of their presence some where in the room. Back on the road we coasted through Somerville and Seven Mile when the terrain slowly changed from agriculture to industrial as we approached unincorporated village of New Miami. Back in 1929, Otto Hoffman purchased 120 acres onto which he built the United Coke and Gas Company. That company became American Rolling Mills (Armco). Today the plant is closed and is one of the National Super Fund clean-up sites. As we drove by the high-wire-fenced plant with rusting metal buildings there were readily visible signs of what was once an active steel mill. In addition to the mill there is a large coal field in the New Miami area. While passing the closed mill, T J reminded me of her desire to know the Yankee- Mariners score. Of course I had no idea but suggested she turn on the radio for a possibility of uncovering the answer. It was easier, I thought, to listen to the radio then take in the remains of a dead industry. It was as if I were viewing the carcases remaining after some war-like massacre. Little did I realize that the next village, at one time, had the kind of residents that actually committed a massacre, more than one in fact. The radio newscaster announced that President Bush nominated Michael Mukasey to replace Alberto Gonzales as Attorney General after which they began playing country music. That ended, for the time being, our search for baseball scores as we rolled onto the outskirts of Hamilton City. Once again, T J entered her historical memory banks to tell me that this city was once known as 'Little Chicago.' “What happened,” I asked. “Did a Valentine Massacre happen here?”She told me that back in the 20's it was home to a large contingent of visiting Chicago mobsters, the most famous being John Dillinger. The town developed into such a wild place that during WWII it was off limits to soldiers from the nearby training camps. Locals still talk about its most famous brothel operated by Madam Freeze on Wood Street. There was no limit to the number and kinds of gambling houses that punctured Hamilton city. Well, I thought, this is a little different kind of history from the previous villages. Perhaps every section of the country needs its spicy areas to balance the mundane nature of a normal life. Our final little town before entering Cincinnati was, Fairfield, just beyond a small ridge rearing up on the horizon. The landscape became more urban the closer we drove to the city line. The oaty tang of fresh cut grass permeated the car's interior. Small puffy clouds dotted the bright sunny sky. T J and I sat in silent companionship as I crossed over the ridge and entered the metropolitan area of Fairfield. A roadside sign declared that Fairfield High School's baseball team was named USA Today's national champs. Once again, T J unleashed a tale of facts that revealed some of this cities character. Fairfield is the home of Jungle Jim's International market. It is, T J explained, a Theme Park Food Market. They won a 2006 honor, given by Cintos, as containing the most outstanding toilet in the nation. Such a distinction is not to be missed. This, I thought, had to be seen. Jungle Jim's is massive, with a parking lot that can easily hold hundreds of vehicles. The entrance has acres of animal statues in all their natural environment as a welcome committee for those who enter the Jungle emporium. A larger than-life-lion holding a guitar sings Elvis hits every 5 minutes. The place is huge with food offerings from the entire world; kangaroo meat, alligator tail, wild boar, elk, antelope, and a cooking school featuring the renown, Carol Tabone. The toilets were set on either side of a reproduction of a Henry VIII outhouse. The one hole seat and walls was covered with a royal velvet, very soft to the touch. Entrances to the His & Hers were reproductions of port-a-potties used on construction sites. I bought a bottle of red Barefoot wine and left feeling that 'Now' I'd seen everything. All we desired before the day ended was to learn the Yankee- Mariners score.

Comments (2)


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psyoshida

10:20PM | Sun, 24 January 2010

Very humorous story and a great history lesson as well. You just have to jump in the car and drive to find out out really interesting small towns can be. Thanks once again for the lift. I enjoyed the ride.

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myrrhluz

1:03AM | Sat, 20 February 2010

Very interesting drive down US 127. It reminds me of the wide variety of places in the US, often very close to each other, and the rich history in out of the way places. I definitely would have had to see those toilets! And that wide diversity of food sounds enticing too. Red Barefoot wine??? I like the way you ended back at the beginning with the unknown score. Great narrative!


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