Paul Brown didn’t buy a football franchise—he created it. The stubborn, standoffish style of his progeny? That’s all part of keeping it in the family.
Carl Lindner Sr. was fond of saying, “You can do anything you want to, children; the sky’s the limit.” Clearly, his kids were listening.
Louise and Louis Nippert were a power couple whose far-reaching interests—the arts, education, sports, agriculture, ecology—were matched by the means to support them.
They came from Columbus, but we still consider the Lazarus family to be ours. Lizards and all.
Chuck Keiger painted signs that sprawled across billboards, covered towering brick walls, and marked cop cars, batting helmets,and porn shops. A son remembers his brush with fame.
You may not know their first names, but you recognize their initials.
A graduate of Ohio University, she’s also the daughter of the Post’s esteemed photographer Melvin Grier, who covered area events for 33 years and whose name is synonymous with quality photojournalism.
There wasn’t much of importance that happened in the city during the first half of the 20th century that didn’t have an Emery attached to it.
Familiar surnames are everywhere, often etched into the city’s landscape.
They’ve been called Cincinnati’s “first couple of civil rights,” and it’s a title they never stopped earning.
His father—the late Cincinnati health commissioner Malcolm Adcock—would be surprised. And pleased.
Barrett, who died in 1989, brought radiation therapy for the treatment of cancer to the city—raising the funds to buy the equipment and constructing the building to house it.
The Lytle men went off to war; back home, they left us with a pretty, quiet urban oasis that’s been a battleground, too.
Sometimes it takes a change of place to discover who you are.
A decade ago, when Adam Gerhardstein was a Xavier University student, his father’s name was everywhere.
In the 1920s, the two brothers—bold, brilliant Powel Jr. and businesslike Lewis—figured out how to produce radios that ordinary folks could afford. Then they created a station so that families would have a reason to buy them.
The Scripps family’s ties to Cincinnati can be traced all the way back to 1883, when family patriarch Edward Willis bought the Penny Post.
When your father is a steakhouse baron , you don’t just show up and take over the family business when you come of age.
Grandma was tough as nails. Generations later, a family discovers the reason why.
A Journalism student got an assignment to profile a stranger. So she decided to look up her biological father.
A founding settler. A bootlegger extraordinaire. A trailblazing rabbi. Look closely and you’ll find that some key chapters of our city’s history are written on its tombstones.
“Large, potentially dangerous, and impractical culinary demonstrations.”
Herman Melville’s Moby Dick gets an imaginative makeover courtesy of Know Theatre.
Monteverdi or Midtown Men?
The Cincinnati Cyclones’ logo was as dated as the name “Firstar Center.” Not anymore.
Blighted beauty, remembering radio reporters, and heavy-handed Halloween handouts.
A new comic book pays tribute to WKRP.
Mayorga-Gallo’s big crux? Moving beyond discussions of racial acceptance to get to issues that really matter.
Let these bright objects distract you from the sun’s annual disappearing act.
Her Style: Simple, but with hattitude.
The owner’s three main requests, says Senhauser, were “light, light, and light.”
With two patios—one is covered, and faces Northern Kentucky; the other is open and faces downtown—the views from this two bedroom penthouse condo are stunning.
For a city its size, Asheville has a surprisingly happening downtown. And these Appalachians can cook.
Follow the whole stinky route.
Not every question has an answer, but that won’t stop me from posing a few whoppers.
Ghosts follow officers through the halls of the Cincinnati Police Department. And it’s James Daum’s job to exorcise them.
The artisan meats and cheeses behind the counter also anchor the menu, and the wine selection is impressive yet affordable. Sit at the bar, communal table, or on the patio—and hit up the beer dock on your way out.
Schooling home cooks—and schmoozing with them—for close to 30 years on 55KRC’s Cooking with Marilyn, Marilyn Harris decodes complicated recipes, and often saves Thanksgiving dinner.
Don’t be fooled by Pho 96’s inauspicious first impression.
C&M’s spare ribs, hot off Mary Solomon’s grill, rarely linger on the premises.
Do the math: 75 vendors + 100-plus recipes = one great cookbook.
Respect must be paid to the grande dames of fine dining.
When it comes to peanut brittle, achieving the right balance of sweet-yet-salty, crunchy-yet-soft is testament to the power of the Scientific Method, or at least some serious recipe testing.