
2009 marks the 40th anniversary of the infamous Cuyahoga River fire. The PD does a nice job of recounting the river’s twisted history including its amazing turnaround.
Check out the article here.
The photo is actually of an earlier fire in 1952. The ‘69 fire wasn’t as dramatic but it certainly was the catalyst for the cleanup that followed.




6 users commented in " The Year of the River "
Follow-up comment rss or Leave a Trackback“What!? You’re moving to…uh…Cleveland…Ohio!? Did you know the river and lake caught on fire 30 years ago!?”
These were the sentiments from my friends and family living in shake/bake California. I have to admit, I was a little frightened when I decided to move to a city that had such a bad reputation.
I’m happy to say, I haven’t witnessed one river or lake fire since landing here in 2000.
Thanks for the Cleveland history lesson, M. Nice post.
Thanks Neve. Yeah, things aren’t like they used to be.
I take it that means you also missed the mayor’s hair catching fire (from a bunsen burner). That was Mayor Perk, back in the day. It was his wife who famously turned down an invitation to a White House dinner because it happened to fall on her bowling night. I think that last one is the key anecdote about Cleveland over the last several decades. A meat and potatoes, no-glitz kind of place.
It’s all about priorities. Living local, right? I mean, a bowling night is a sacred thing, isn’t it?
From what I recall, the Perk fire happened around the time of the river fire. Which leads me to ask what was it about Cleveland in those years that made it the fire-joke capitol of the world?
I love all the historical trivia about Cleveland. It’s funny, because I see the city as such a cultural smorgasbord of art related subjects as well as great places to eat new and interesting food.
It’s not until someone points out the rare delicacy of lawn ornaments, hair fires, river fires, or political catastrophies based on scheduled bowling nights that stop me dead in my wanting to live in Barcelona tracks and seriously reconsider my desire to leave this crazy, cold as hell in the winter city.
I think Cleveland may have my heart. Is that insane, or what?
I checked my facts, so let me correct the record. It wasn’t a bunsen burner that caused Mayor Perk’s hair to catch fire, but rather an acetyln torch that he was using to cut a ribbon at a ceremony, in October ‘72. Just two months later was the infamous missed White House dinner, in December.
But by one account, Perk told that story to the media to cover the real reason she turned down the invitation: his wife’s embarrassment over not thinking she had anything proper to wear to the White House. Since they’re both dead, it’s hard to check or corroborate that story, which may have been cooked up afterward as a cover story in the face of all the ridicule.
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