A Little Bit of Circleville History     A frontier explorer, Christopher Gist, is recognized as the first European explorer in the Circleville area.  When he stayed a few days at the settlement called Maguck in 1751, he recorded that about ten families lived there.  In 1810, when Circleville was established just to the north of Maguck, the founding fathers hoped that their location in and around Hopewell mounds in the area would help to preserve and maintain the mounds.  The original city plan for Circleville was a round design, made to model the historic mounds.  Alas!  The mounds didn't remain and neither did the circular grid for "Roundtown".  Circleville was no longer a circle by the 1860s.

Like so many old towns across Ohio, Circleville has a treasure trove of old homes build in the late 1800s.  Even if there were no pumpkins and no festival, it's worth the visit to take in the views.  Some homes need a lot of love, tender care, and repair.  Other homes across the state and in Circleville have been turned into funeral parlors, legal offices, bed and breakfasts, or treasured dwellings that I would adore calling home.

The Pumpkin Show     When the Pumpkin Show comes to town, the heart of Circleville is filled with carnival rides, food trucks and booths, as well games to test your skills and empty your pockets.  Each of the four days of the show attracts approximately 100,00 visitors to the town of almost 14,000 people.  There are all the usual festivity treats that you would expect like elephant ears, corn dogs, cotton candy, ice cream, pies, fries, and assorted calories.  But, in Circleville, it should come as no surprise that a lot of things are made from pumpkin.  Of course, that's going to include pumpkin spice lattes, but you'll also find pumpkin donuts, pumpkin chili, pumpkin burgers, pumpkin popcorn, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin waffles, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin butter, pumpkin fudge, pumpkin taffy, pumpkin yogurt, pumpkin bread, pumpkin spread, pumpkin dog treats, and, yes, even pumpkin pie.

I used to say that Ohio was a great state to be from but not in.  What can I say?  I loved living in Morocco, wandering Southeast Asia, going on African safari, and exploring the art that Europe has to offer.  Okay, in my mind Ohio still doesn't quite compare to all that, but it is a lovely part of the United States to experience.  And, for not such an exceptionally large state, it is quite varied with its geography.

Geologists tell us that the glaciers of the last ice age covered about two-thirds of northern and western Ohio.  If you wander that part of the state, it's generally flat with rolling hills and great farmland.  Actually, there's good farming all over the state, and a lot of it is managed by the Amish, which is just so charming to explore.  Those glaciers also carved out what was to become the Great Lakes.  They formed those lakes when their waters melted and filled the area.  

But, for this journey, I found myself in southern Ohio.  My brother and I toured our family roots in the Cincinnati area.  Even with a stopover at the Goodwill store, that took about an hour.  We needed to find another stop on our adventure.  I heard that the Great Serpent Mound had recently been added to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization's list of World Heritage Sites.  As it turns out, I was mistaken about UNESCO.  But, it was still a wonderful adventure.

It's very easy to go north and south in Ohio to the major metropolitan areas of Cincinnati, Columbus, Cleveland, and Toledo.  However, the Great Serpent Mound is in Ohio's hill country in the south.  The glaciers never made it as far as southeastern Ohio.  The hills in southern Ohio are actually the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains.  Now, seriously, who knew that they are some of the oldest mountains in the world?  When they were new, they rivaled or surpassed the Rocky Mountains and the European Alps in height.  Again, who knew that?

A drive into these foothills has no major interstate highway.  It's a winding drive through rural Ohio, tiny villages, along with lots of hills, trees, twists and turns, and farmland.  As I said, a lot of Ohio's farmers are Amish.  If you're lucky, you may see a horse-drawn carriage.  Certainly, you'll see Amish farms without electricity and "road apples" along the way where horses once trod.  And, you'll probably see an Amish woman who somehow successfully manages to maneuver a bicycle in spite of her long, flowing skirt.  How she doesn't get it tangled in the bike chain is a mystery to me.  An Amish miracle!

Hopewell Culture National Historical Park     As I searched neighboring counties on the way home, about an hour away in the right direction, I found the Mound City Group, Hopewell Cultural National Historic Park.  I'd never heard of it before.  I had no idea what I might see there.  But, since I'd already explored one mound site, I thought it might be a good thing to go to another site on the same journey.  Upon arrival, I discovered that the Mound City  Group was part of eight mound locations in the area that made up the Hopewell Cultural National Historic Park. And, believe it or not, less than two weeks ago, these eight sites were named a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. Life is stranger than fiction.  I couldn't have planned it this way.

In my day of touring, I learned that there were three groups of mound builders in this part of Ohio.  I've already mentioned the Adena and the Fort Ancient cultures.  The third group of mound builders were the Hopewell.  If you hope that these people got their name in a better way than the Adena builders, well, don't get your hopes up.  The name came from Mordecai Hopewell, a Confederate veteran of the U.S. Civil War, who owned a farm in Ross County where a lot of impressive mounds and earthworks were excavated in 1891.  Nobody knows what these mound builders, who flourished from about 200 BC to 500 AD, actually called themselves.  But, today, they are known as the Hopewell culture.  Just like the Adena, the Hopewell are not just one culture or society, but are made up a widely dispersed population.

In 1923, President Warren G. Harding signed the proclamation to protect the Mound City National Monument, which would eventually become known as the Hopewell Cultural National Historic Park.  Over the years, additional lands were included for preservation.  The law to officially establish the national park was signed in 1992.  The site at Mound City is the only fully restored Hopewell earthwork complex.  The area is larger than ten football fields and contains around two dozen mounds.  The entire site is surrounded by an earthen embankment about three-feet-tall.  However, in the 1840s, it was four to six feet tall.

There is no evidence that the Hopewell people actually lived at the Mound City Group.  (Excavation of Hopewell dwelling sites indicate no more than three homes. There were no great Hopewell cities or villages.  The people made their living by hunting, farming, gathering, and trading.) The individual mounds at the Mound City Group were for burial.  Originally a large ceremonial building made of poles and bark was built over a plastered clay floor. Cremated bodies were entombed on the floor of the building with a clay covering. Next to the burial site, works of Hopewell art made of copper, stone, shell, and bone were placed on the floor of the building. After many similar ceremonies, the buildings were either burned down or taken away.  When the building of the house was removed, the construction of the mound began in stages.  The mounds alternated between layers of clay and sand.  

Artifacts recovered from the mounds indicate that the Hopewell traded goods across much of what would become the United States.  The Hopewell were very skilled artisans, and the beauty and richness of the artifacts indicates that the burial site may have been reserved for the most important people in the culture.  The artisans used exotic materials not naturally found in southeast Ohio to create necklaces, headdresses, arrowheads, tools, ornaments, and pipes.  They worked with obsidian from the Rocky Mountains, seashells from Florida's Gulf Coast, flint from North Dakota, copper from upper Michigan, silver from Canada, shark's teeth from the Atlantic shores, and mica from North Carolina.

Saving the Worst News for (Almost) Last     The grounds of the Mound City Group were surveyed in 1846 by Ephraim Squier and Edwin Davis when the land was still covered in forest.  These two men actually came up with the name Mound City because of its collection of earthen works.  It was a good move to preserve historical records.  But, that natural protection of the forest didn't outlast the need for agricultural space.  In time, farmers plowed over the mounds and the earthen wall that surrounded them to farm the land for fifty years.  If that wasn't bad enough, during World War I, the area was used as an Army training facility.  Engineers grated the place even flatter than the farmers.  Very fortunately, the level of the original floors was below ground level.  The Ohio Historical and Archaeological Society funded reconstruction of the mound site in 1920-21.  And then, President Harding came to the rescue.

And, Finally     The ceremonial center at the Mound City Group was used for sacred rituals, gatherings, and burials.  But, there is much more to learn about the Hopewell culture in neighboring sites in the area.  The Hopewell people carefully watched the heavens.  With an understanding of mathematics and astronomy that boggle my simple mind, they charted the course of the moon in its 18.6-year-cycle.  I didn't even know the moon had an 18.6-year-cycle!  The Octagon Earthworks (which since 1910 has been home to the Moundbuilders Country Club - FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!  WHAT KIND OF DESICRATION IS THAT?) uses geometric shapes and angles on the ground to chart four moon risings and four moon settings in that very long cycle.  It's the same kind of genius that you think of when you read about the wonders of the ancient Egyptian, Chinese, Maya, and Incan cultures.  That genius may be why I've visited the Pyramids, the Great Wall, Tikal, and Machu Picchu.  It's my hope, that with this new UNESCO recognition, that people will also learn about the Hopewell culture.  The Mound City Group should be added to everyone's list of places to wander.

About ten years ago, I visited the area where I grew up, around Cincinnati, Ohio.  It had changed so much that I never needed to go back there.  We used to drive the ten-mile-stretch from Fairfield to Springdale when we went to church, twice on Sundays and once on Wednesday night.  It was farmland the entire way.  Well, no longer.  The entire drive is lined with strip malls, shops, restaurants, and urban sprawl.  There was even a Hooters along the way, for crying' out loud!  No, I didn't need to go back.

However, my brother didn't make that trip with me.  And, he had a case of nostalgia.  He wanted to see the same places.  At the time we lived there, he was too young to remember much.  So, I needed to be his guide.  And, I made the long trek back to a long time ago.

From kindergarten to grade seven, I attended four schools.  We hit them all on this tour.  Kindergarten school. Demolished.  Grade one school.  Demolished.  Grades two to six school.  Demolished.  Grade seven school.  You guessed it, demolished.  There were new buildings in their places.  They all looked beautiful, but nothing looked the same.  

On the way home from my first two schools, if you took the detour that we were NOT ALLOWED TO TAKE, there was the most, oh, so tempting gravel pit to explore.  Even back in the dark ages, Mom said we shouldn't go there. There were hobos who lurked in the gravel pit, and IT JUST WASN'T SAFE!  Well, it should come as no surprise, that no hobos were going to scare me away from such a fascinating location.  I didn't go there often, but I did go there.  And, one day I found the most incredible fossil that I still have to this day.  It's on display in my living room. However, I don't think I ever showed it to my mother.

On this trip, I tried to find the gravel pit again.  The whole area was so much more developed.  An apartment complex blocks the way to my favorite forbidden zone.  The gravel pit is now a lovely, secluded lake that for some reason still is forbidden to trespass into.  Perhaps they spoke to my mother? 

Once I crossed the gravel pit, back in the old days, I never had any problems making my way home.  But, I don't remember the path I took.  However, I had no trouble finding Bishop Avenue on this trip.  The home where I grew up was so shockingly small.  Mom and Dad squeezed three kids into the place with no problems, but I'm not sure how they managed to do it.  I guess, we didn't know any different.

My brother was curious how far it was from Bishop Avenue to Symmes Road.  Would it take long?  I just smiled. Both streets intersected into State Route 4, and they were one block apart.  Of course, now another road was built between them.  But, in my day, it was one block and a quick hop and a skip to get there.

Kid number four, my brother on this trip, was born while we lived in the house on Symmes Road.  Also demolished.  Right after we moved, the house was destroyed, and a senior living facility took its place.   The property was five acres, and well over half of it was my father's garden.  It felt like all of it was that garden, and I absolutely H A T E D gardening at that moment and ever since then.  Nothing has ever changed how I feel about gardening.  I can't imagine that it ever will.

We drove around the entire lot, which was now a parking lot for the retirement home.  It felt so small!  Everything was so much bigger when I was ten.  Our neighbors to the left, the Rickerts, are long departed.  But, their home looked exactly the same.  We loved the Rickerts.  Once, Mr. Rickert stood atop our gas tank with a garden hose trying to stop the fire that destroyed our kitchen.  Thanks to him, the rest of the house was saved.  Fortunately, the story has a happy ending because he didn't meet his that day. 

On the other side of our property lived the two haggard witches, absolutely ancient!  At least, that's how we kids felt about them.  They were withered sisters who lived with a lot of cats.  Separating our homes was a small forest of oak trees.  It would have been fun to play there, but nobody played in the witches' yard.   I guess the witches weren't all that evil.  One of them gave mama a lovely -- and very expensive -- black evening gown.  She thought it would look elegant on our mother.  Mom graciously thanked her because she knew it would make an incredible Halloween witch costume.  The old witch next door never learned the truth about what happened to her dress.  I think we still have that dress at my mom's place.

The witches' den was still there.  The oak forest looks like it has never been cleared.  Very interestingly, the property is now owned by an environmental organization that saves trees, cleans the ocean, and keeps the planet green.  We drove on past the haunted home, past the rival family that sold summer vegetables at a food stand like ours (the stand was still there) and on to the end of Symmes Road and the intersection of State Route 4.  Things continued to change.  Symmes Road used to dead-end there, but it now continued past State Route 4 as a very major road.  More important, at least to me, there was a very large Goodwill store at the intersection.  

I love shopping at Goodwill.  As soon as we saw it, I knew I had to get a souvenir to remember the occasion.  A very nice (but absolutely scary) man with Nazi SS letters tattooed on his neck let us go into the store before him.  I quickly found my souvenir to remember the experience.  It was a new desk chair (for me anyway) to go in my office.  I will use it every day and remember a long time ago.