For the Homeless Grapevine
No byline, please

Well, here we all are in Cincinnati.  In this shelter, that shelter, or the other shelter.  Some of the places are more substantial than others.  Some of the places are equipped with required “sessions" (the latest thing is psychiatric emergency, for those who don’t know yet).  Some of the places are not anything at all.  All of it, incidentally, is at least partly at public cost.

Has this been said before?  That’s okay.  It doesn’t hurt to run through it again.  Maybe there’s an extra sentence here or there. 

Early morning windows are covered with a sheet of frost.  Afternoon sidewalks are covered with ice lumpy with frozen footprints.  Maybe a poet would tell of evening hills (and hills they are) frosted by nature’s frozen icing.  Cleveland probably doesn’t have little idea of how cold it can get in Cincinnati.

Cleveland probably doesn’t readily recall some other things about Cincinnati, either.  Things like, Cincinnati has a hinterland that extends easily 50-60 miles in all directions, that is, not only toward central Ohio but also into Kentucky and Indiana; and, the Ohio parts include some of the poorest areas of the state.  The hinterland is not under the authority of Cincinnati.

Judging by some reports, it seems like Cleveland, where the present and just past governors came from, incidentally, has a lot of problems.  Maybe [it] kind of has to stand there on the lakeshore and shake its fist at the heavens in the style of “nobody cares” with the vague hope that somebody may notice—like, perhaps the little people from Cincinnati?

Well, Cleveland, in practical application it’s kind of like this.  Your top man in Columbus had the initiative to chat with the bishop.  Now, if someone wants to hike to Columbus and go to the bishop’s door (the back door of course), he or she might walk away with a slice of bologna between two pieces of bread.  Try the same thing in Cincinnati and he or she can walk away with an order to leave between two policemen.

The governor, who would like to be senator, has said that Mr. Taft of Cincinnati is a nice man.  Cincinnati already has it’s opinions about Mr. Taft, so the governor should perhaps say that in Cleveland and make a visit to Cincinnati to chat with the archbishop, whether Cleveland is grooming another governor or not.

And, if he’s really serious about this senator bit,  Cleveland could point out to the governor (who lives in Cleveland, remember) that it’s politically unwise to ignore the needs of Cincinnati (with or without any Tafts around) because of the repercussions in Kentucky and Indiana.  To get along better in Washington, the governor needs to take extensive care of Cincinnati, with actions.  Since Cincinnati itself is in Ohio, [its problems] will soon slosh over in Cleveland.

So, Cleveland should go picket the governor’s house and demand the good Christian action of assistance for Cincinnati, which will make him popular in Indiana and Kentucky, and thereby Cleveland will have a senator plus Cleveland’s share of whatever is concocted in Cincinnati.

What can he do? Probably a lot; but, if someone needs at least one idea to work with, how about exploring the practical application of the employment aspect of the Ohio Bureau of Employment Services (that is, find jobs for people).  And, that can even be done in Columbus. 

The other senate seat should go to a Democrat (that’s fair).  Tony Hall is still alive, isn’t he?