John Grindrod: A recommendation to find the weird in Ohio – LimaOhio.com

This artwork in Lakeview is the work of Chris Davis. What once was a dead tree now is the perfect unique monument to introduce the rows of corn that stretch behind it during growing season.
John Grindrod/The Lima News
For many movie mavens, when watching a flick, there’s always a bit of personal connection to the action when one of the scenes happens to have been shot in a location where they’ve visited. When it comes to books, I also think readers feel more connected to the books when they have familiarity with places. I’m guessing that thought may just have been in the minds of Mark Sceurman and Mark Moran, who published a book a number of years ago of Ohio’s oddities, from its unusual sites, to its people and to its legends.
Years ago, I received Weird Ohio, Your Travel Guide to Ohio’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets, compiled and written by James A. Willis, Andrew Henderson and Loren Coleman as a Christmas gift. Now, with a copyright year of 2005, don’t ask me why I just recently got around to reading it, but when I started reading, I saw quite a bit to which I could relate.
While I appreciated the portions of the book that presented the legends and supposedly haunted places and the stories behind all that eeriness, all presented in such a way that there’s no opinion injected as to their authenticity or lack thereof, I was most interested in the places I’ve been and the oddities viewed in the book, many of which were in the chapter “Roadside Distractions.” That chapter begins with a full-page colored photo of the seven-story Longaberger Basket Building, built in 1997 on the east side of Newark.
I remember while driving to one of my accounts several years ago while on State Route 16 seeing it for the first time and being so fascinated that I couldn’t wait for my next trip back to see it again to see the detail put into the building which really does look like a giant Longaberger Basket. Years ago, in better times for a company that eventually declared bankruptcy, legions of women couldn’t wait to purchase the next new basket. Atop the roof of the building are two 75-foot “handles,” which are heated to prevent ice from forming that could break loose and damage the roof.
Another distraction with which I was familiar while reading was one Jane and I saw in Cleveland back in 2019. It’s the giant faux “Free” red rubber stamp sculpture, a supersized version of the type of stamp used over the years in offices. At 28-by-48 feet, it’s impossible to miss if you happen to be exploring the lakefront area in Willard Park.
As I was reading the chapter on distractions and matching photos to the text, I got to wondering about a certain iconic image associated with Lima which I thought was certainly deserving of inclusion. My payoff did indeed arrive on Page 175, a photo of the Kewpee Doll atop the downtown location on North Elizabeth Street along with some text. Built in the 1930s, the restaurant was a favorite of mine as a child because I recognized early in life my carnivorous leanings. When we lived in Lima, I’d go with Dad on White Castle runs when a sack of twenty burgers, remarkably, in the second half of the 1950s, could be had for a buck. Once we landed in Lima, the tradition continued when I went with dad to the Kewpee downtown, excited that we would get to use the turntable in the back of the lot after we passed the window to turn the car around.
As I read the chapters, I saw so many other sites I’ve seen while traveling for my labor or my leisure, such as the statue of George Bartholomew in Bellefontaine honoring the man whose formula led to the first concrete-paved street in America; the field of 109 concrete corncobs in Dublin, which honors the history of corn cultivation in Ohio; and, of course, the massive Solid Rock Church’s Jesus, easily spotted off I-75 while passing Monroe, although the photo was of the original Jesus, which caught fire after being struck by lightning in 2010. A new statue was erected and dedicated in 2012, using a different pose that some refer to as Touchdown Jesus because of the upraised arms.
After finishing the book, I found myself looking for my own roadside distractions and certainly found one while working during a drive from Minster to Kenton. While passing a cornfield in Lakeview, I noticed a sculpture carved out of the bottom of a dead tree broken off 20 or so feet from the base. According to the sign in front of a perfectly carved large corn cob with its husk peeled back and its rows of aligned yellow kernels, it’s the work of Chris Davis, who left the sign and his number (937-210-836) just in case a passer-by has an old tree sheared off in a storm in the yard and wants to turn it into art. What made it even more special was the plaque that was at the base of the tree that read, “In memory of Dan Daley and John Manchester, Fathers, Neighbors, Friends.”
Book lovers may want to check out the Weird Ohio book still available on Amazon. However, if you keep your eyes sharp as you travel about, you just might start seeing your own roadside distractions as I did with that corncob tree.
John Grindrod is a regular columnist for The Lima News, a freelance writer and editor and the author of two books. Reach him at [email protected].
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