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Jack Heffron


Resolution Road

It’s tough to like the month of January, that dark, cold, gloomy time a friend of mine once called “the Sunday night of the year.” But come on, it’s also a time of hope, a clean slate.

Raise a Glass

When people think of drinking on the west side, their first thought is beer. And not esoteric imports or microbrews, just your basic, American stuff—Bud, Miller, PBR. Like most stereotypes, that one contains only a kernel of truth and has hung around long past its freshness date. Truth is, west-s

Builder’s Market

The sign announces “Coming Soon Western Hills Plaza,” which stops me every time I see it. The large shopping center sprawled behind the sign is Western Hills Plaza and has been there since its grand opening on November 15, 1954. True, the plaz

It Came From Price Hill

If it wasn’t exactly a dark and stormy night when I made my way toward the Lucas home in East Price Hill, there was definitely a spooky quality to the evening. Fat gray clouds hung low in the sky and pelted my windshield with rain, but the slight tug of eeriness I felt probably had more to do with my destination—the home of Tim and Donna Lucas. The Lucases publish a monthly magazine called Video Watchdog,

which offers revi

Tossing One Back

Legend has it that the game of cornhole was invented on the west side. No less august an authority than Wikipedia states, “The west side of Cincinnati has been widely accepted as the birthplace of cornhole. The first games were played in the early ’60s and dubbed ‘cornhole’ due to the bag&rsq

Death on a Quiet Street

In 1966, the Bricca family was savagely murdered in their Bridgetown home. No neighbor heard a struggle. No weapon was found. No evidence led to a suspect. And no one was ever charged.

The Pizza King

Buddy LaRosa is making lunch. He wears a red tie and a mercilessly pressed white short-sleeve shirt with a LaRosa’s logo. If you’ve lived in Cincinnati for any length of time, you know what he looks like—a lush wave of white hair combed straight back with a bit of a ducktail behind the ears, a toothy smile that is both welcoming and conspiratorial, as if he’s thinking of something funny and you’re in on the joke. He’s got a lepre

Stranger Than Paradise

To get to Rabbit Hash from Cincinnati, fasten your seatbelt, ease onto I-75, and gird yourself for a short trip south and west, out of the buzzing hive of the city and into the sleepy-eyed countryside.