Day 105, Saturday, June 29, 2025: Greenville, Ohio to Cincinnati, Ohio
- Mark Carl Rom
- Aug 19
- 3 min read
Carnegie libraries visited: Walnut Hills, Northside, Avondale, Norwood, Hyde Park, and Price Hill, all in Cincinnati, Ohio
Days sober: 373
A December purchase earned its keep by the end of June. Preparing for the trip, I bought a tiny-but-powerful battery operated fan. I needed it last night, as the outside temperature never dropped below the mid-70s and Goldfinger is a heat magnet. After a carefully measured breakfast (½ cup Grape Nuts, ¼ cup golden raisins, and one cup of lowfat milk) I had a solid workout at the Y. At my doctor’s recommendation, I’m focusing more on weight-bearing exercises. I’m going to be sore tomorrow. So far so good.
It rained off and on all day, with the air as humid and stale as my dog Bolt’s breath. I was in slow motion, so maybe not so good so far. My mind was as cluttered as my car's interior.
My memory seems to have failed me as I attempt to reconstruct the events of the day. I took my first picture at nearly 11.30 a.m., inside the Greenville library, and my final one at 4.30 p.m. outside the Reading library in a suburb of Cincinnati. What I did before and after these shots is lost to me. I wasn’t driving, as my straight-south route covered less than 80 miles.
I mainly contented myself with just taking pictures: twelve libraries in all, including eight in-and-around Cincinnati, of which six were funded by Carnegie. (All told, Cincinnati has 40 branch libraries, so I got just a taste.) My favorite was the Clifton library, located in the former home of George “Boss” Cox.
Cox was not exactly a man of letters – apparently, he never wrote any, either, although he did release an “autobiography” after he got into a legal jam – and he didn’t give his home to the city with the intent of turning it into a library. His father died when he was eight, so that’s when he went to work to support his family. His road to Bossdom took him through odd jobs (shoe shine, errand boy, butcher) until he (somehow) saved up enough money to buy a saloon in the area known as “Dead Man’s Corner.” As a purveyor of booze, he was naturally qualified to serve on city council, from which he ultimately became the dominant political force in the city. Taking credit for all the work he had done to serve his community, Cox – sounding suspiciously like someone who might be a President of the US during the 2020s, – said “I am the Boss of Cincinnati. I never dodged that statement in my life. I've got the best system of government in the country. If I didn't think this system was the best, I would consider that I was a failure in life.” Lincoln Steffens, a muckraker, called Cincinnati the worst governed cities in the country. They first met when Steffens approached Cox at his bar, with Steffens introducing himself as “student of politics, corrupt politics, and bosses.” He told Cox that he heard Cox was Cincinnati’s boss to which Cox replied “I am.”
If you’re in the mood for a hagiography and want to learn more about “the brilliant career of the late George Barnsdale Cox, who forged his way, unaided, to the front ranks of the favored few, and who, by strong inherent force and superior business ability, directed and controlled by intelligence and judgment of a high order, stood for many years one of the leading men of the State” you can do so here. I went there to learn whether Cox got married (he did, to Caroline Shields, who is historically invisible) and whether he had children (he did not). After his death (and hers?) the home, designed by Samuel Hannaford, the leading local architect who designed homes for the city’s wealthy of the gilded age, lived on as a fraternity, a women’s dorm, and who knows what else. In 2010, its ownership was transferred to the city and its use to a library. Outside, the most prominent features are a wrap-around porch and a three and one half circular turret. Inside, patrons can browse the stacks in early 20th century splendor.
I checked into an Aloft hotel in the evening. Low temperatures were expected to be in the mid-70s and I didn’t want Bolt’s hot breath on me all night, a humidity that I did not expect my tiny fan to relieve.
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