For Cincinnati’s Dandelion Hunters, Harvesting Weeds Was Often An Adventure

From money to murder weapons these foragers found more than what they planned for.
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At the first thaw of spring, dandelion hunters harvested the bounty of Cincinnati lawns. In addition to dandelion wine, dandelion greens were a popular Queen City dish when fried with hog jowls or bacon.

From Cincinnati Post 26 February 1909, Image extracted from microfilm by Greg Hand

It was the spring of 1913. Cincinnati Police got word a craps game was operating in the shadow of the Fairview Incline. The gamblers picked a good location, with clear views all around. They could spot any police interference with plenty of time to conceal all the evidence. The cops determined that subterfuge was necessary to put a lid on this game.

It is likely Police Lieutenant Thomas M. Hall came up with the gambit, or maybe it was Officer William B. Meyer or Office John H. Rabe Jr., the two patrolmen who assisted him, but the strategy proved flawless. The three policemen disguised themselves as dandelion hunters. The gamblers paid no attention to three men in mufti filling baskets with spring greens. They were caught red-handed and flat-footed and all five of them ended up in the hoosegow.

Dandelion hunters? Who would have thought? Today, there would hardly be any cover story more suspect. Who goes out hunting for dandelions these days? A hundred years ago, dandelion hunting was a very big thing and dandelion hunters figured into some of the biggest mysteries in Cincinnati.

In November 1904, the body of 18-year-old Alma Steinigeweg was found, brutally murdered, in the field between the foot of Winton Road and the Mill Creek. An investigation dragged on for years, but no one was ever charged with the crime. For months, investigators didn’t even have a murder weapon. Then, in April of 1905, Joseph Raison of Madisonville took a break from his job at a lumberyard on Spring Grove Avenue to pick some dandelions for dinner. He found a splintered pickaxe handle with hair matted on one end just 150 feet from where the victim’s body had been found. It matched the victim’s wounds.

Then there was the case of Edmund Grossmann of Cumminsville. He was a grocer and butcher who one day walked out of his house and never returned. Grossmann’s family scoured the area for a week with no luck. And then, according to the Cincinnati Commercial Tribune [26 February 1906]:

“Saturday, while picking dandelions on the side of Roll Hill, with her two children, Mrs. Maggie Markle, 3631 Borden Street, noticed the prostrate form of a man lying in the bushes close by. She thought it was that of a sleeping man and avoided the neighborhood.”

Returning home, Mrs. Markle described the incident to a neighbor, John Pherson, who walked over to Roll Hill expecting to chase away a tramp. He found Grossmann’s body. The grocer had strangled himself with a handkerchief and his own suspenders.

Vernon Presley, of 1504 Elm Street, found a much less macabre bit of criminal evidence when he and his wife parked their car along the Mary Ingles Highway in Daytona, Kentucky.  According to the Cincinnati Enquirer [13 April 1955]:

“A dandelion hunter was $100 richer yesterday because, instead of finding dandelions, he uncovered a box containing stocks and bonds valued at $62,000.”

The box was part of the loot carried off from the home of William Peebles of Silverton, who had been robbed a week earlier while the family was out of town. Peebles gave Presley $100 for his acuity.

And then there was Viola Nolan of 1578 Baymiller Street, who told the Cincinnati Post [28 September 1923]:

“While picking dandelions on Price Hill, I cut one flower and found a plain gold ring on the stalk. The stalk had grown thru the ring which had been dropped.”

Whether the harvest ended up on the mess hall table or not, army recruits at Fort Thomas, Kentucky, were delighted to pick dandelions as a break from constant parade drills and guard duty.

From Cincinnati Post 7 April 1910, Image extracted from microfilm by Greg Hand

But dandelion hunting had its hazards as well as its rewards. In 1907 a good-sized hog escaped from the pens of farmer Henry Brink in Hartwell. The porcine fugitive established itself in Pfau’s Woods near the city infirmary (now known as Drake Hospital) and chased away children who came to the woods to hunt dandelions. The men of the neighborhood organized a posse to capture the beast. In another case, the Enquirer [14 April 1917] reported:

“Mrs. Mary Hurst, 55 years old, Rossmoyne, Ohio, was killed yesterday by a south-bound Dayton Express on the C. L. and N. Railway near her home. Coroner Bauer was informed Mrs. Hunt was picking dandelions at the side of the tracks and she was drawn under the train by suction.”

And some folks just didn’t cotton to random trespassers picking dandelions on their property. In 1909, George Wasser sued George Weyman in Campbell County Court because, while Wasser was picking dandelions on Weyman’s farm, Weyman shot him twice – in his hip and in a foot – permanently crippling him. Similarly, Denato Mariaus of California, Ohio, sued Jack Weiner for shooting at him while he hunted dandelions on Weiner’s property near Coney Island.

In the 1920s, with Prohibition settling like a wet blanket on the land, dandelions surged in popularity because of the ease with which they could be induced to create a sort of wine. The Cincinnati Post [18 July 1923] opined that dandelion wine had replaced beer as Cincinnati’s iconic beverage:

“Some Cincinnatians suggest adoption of the dandelion as the city’s official flower. How the mighty hops have fallen! Moreover, homemade dandelion wine isn’t bad, at all.”

So popular was this concoction, that the Enquirer [24 April 1930] facetiously investigated a mystery:

“We see a lot of people picking the dandelion blossoms without trying to dig the plants themselves out of the lawn. What can it mean d’ya suppose?”

Interestingly, the Volstead Act that created Prohibition allowed for modest production of grape or fruit wine at home. Since dandelions were not fruit, dandelion wine was strictly prohibited. Dandelion wine was so easy to make, Cincinnati revenuers generally ignored the law and looked the other way during the springtime harvest. If you want to try dandelion wine yourself, here is a recipe from the Cincinnati Post [7 April 1913]:

“To 4 quarts flowers, take 4 quarts boiling water, cover well with water, let stand 3 days. Add peel of 3 oranges and 1 lemon, boil for 15 minutes, drain and add juice of oranges and lemons to 4 pounds of sugar and one cupful of yeast. Keep in a warm room, strain again. Let stand for 3 weeks, then bottle and serve.”

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