Dr. Know: Sound Barriers, Abandoned Mansions, and Batman

The Good Doctor investigates a shattered wall, a mysterious empty property, and a local legend that got name-dropped by the Caped Crusader.
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Illustration by Lars Leetaru

On I-275 near Loveland-Madeira Road, there’s a long soundwall that deflects highway noise. One of the wall’s panels is smashed. It’s not cracked, it’s in pieces. It looks like a truck came at it sideways. How was that even possible? What the hell happened there? —ANOTHER BREACH IN THE WALL

DEAR BREACH:
The Doctor has visited the soundwall in question. Scattered and shattered concrete hunks appear to have suffered an impact from an immensely large vehicle that was, as you say, driving perpendicular to the highway. While your assumption appears accurate, regular readers know that “assumptions” have no place in a serious column such as this one. Therefore, please note the Doctor’s triumphant achievement in uncovering Symmes Township Police Report CR-2025-003416: “At approximately 2:30 p.m. on December 8, 2025, a U-Haul truck traveling west on Interstate 275 at mile 51.2 swerved to avoid another vehicle. The U-Haul struck a retaining wall, destroying a section of it. The driver [name redacted, unrelated to Epstein Files] was cited for Offense 4511.202, Failure to Maintain.”

This incident occurred at the end of 2025, just after ODOT had scheduled their repairs for 2026. But the wall may be fixed by the time you read this—yet another example of the Doctor’s increasing power and influence. Stay tuned; this column could soon offer additional services such as fixing traffic tickets.


Just outside of O’Bryonville is a large empty property. I pass there all the time. A rusty iron gate at the front opens up into nothing at all. I guess some prominent person had a large mansion there at one time, but for years the whole area has been just grass. What and who was there? —EVERYTHING BUT THE HOUSE

DEAR EVERYTHING:
How ridiculous to assume that 1936 Madison Road was once occupied by “some prominent person.” Sorry to disappoint you, but the most accomplished resident at this address got no further than one term as President of the United States and nine years as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. William Howard Taft rarely visited his hometown of Cincinnati after joining the upper elites of Washington, but he’d hung around that estate in O’Bryonville during his young and lean years (assuming that “lean” accurately describes Taft at any age). When he returned to Cincinnati in 1908 and 1912 to cast his votes for president, he listed 1936 Madison Road as his address.

The stone wall and iron gate did open up onto a truly grand residence—grand enough to earn a splashy Cincinnati Enquirer pictorial in 1922. A.W. Williamson was the deep-pocketed local tycoon who had bulked up the original home. We can find no reason why the mansion was demolished in 1941. Termites? Piranha cicadas? Infestations from the slovenly riffraff of Hyde Park? We may never know.


You recently wrote about an old Batman comic book with an ad on the back that featured a Hughes High School graduate. It reminded me of another fellow Hughes alum from long ago: a champion football and baseball player with only one arm! I forget his name, but I bet you can find it. —ONE HAND CLAPPING

DEAR CLAPPING:
Just imagine Walter Strauss as a one-armed sports hero today, romping in those stunt commercials with Jake from State Farm. Then again, even though he lived during the early 1900s, Strauss didn’t need CGI or AI assists to look impressive. Despite having no right arm, he played football well enough at Hughes High School to become captain of the team. And manager of the baseball team. And member of the city champion track team. And a student at Harvard University. And an attorney who passed the bar exam on his wedding day.

We’re not done. Strauss became a high-level executive at Northwestern Mutual Life Insurance. And conducted classes in law and taxation. Hosted radio talk shows about insurance. Got elected as a Police Judge in Newport. And somehow found the time to have five children, 23 grandchildren, and 11 great-grandchildren. Overcompensating? Perhaps. But more than most of us, Strauss fully embraced life with open arm.

Dr. Know is Jay Gilbert, radio personality and advertising prankster. Submit your questions about the city’s peculiarities here.

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