Kathy Sherwood

Our parents were married in February, 1937. Our dad was a railroad employee at the Cincinnati Union Terminal. Until she was fired because she was married, our mother worked at Strietmann Biscuit Company on Central Parkway. Like many working Cincinnatians, they lived for a time on a third floor apartment looking down on Findlay Market. Money was always a concern and they waited until late Saturday to buy their produce when vendors would sometimes lower their prices. Our mother would tell us stories of how she would buy a 5-cent Clark candy bar to eat while she walked to the Terminal to meet our father when he got off work at midnight.

Eventually, they would move to different parts of Cincinnati, the country and overseas. But they always spoke of Findlay Market with affection reflected from their early years of marriage. As children, we knew that on Christmas Eve day we would make a pilgrimage to Findlay Market to buy the fruit for Santa to put in our stockings. That affection for Findlay Market never left them and it was one of the last places I was able to take my father in 2003 before he entered a nursing home.

After being away with military service and higher education, my husband and I returned to Cincinnati in 1977. He worked at the Cincinnati Public Library and me at the VA Medical Center. It was not uncommon for me to drive him to work on Saturday mornings so I could sop at the market on the way home. Years later, when he retired, I introduced him to Findlay Market, and he is a regular customer.

Likewise, my sister started taking my brother-in-law to market on Saturday morning and now they are regulars along with their Neufydoodle, Mikey. Last week, I was emailing with our oldest nephew, who also frequently shops there on Saturdays. I told him that I stopped at his parent’s home on a Saturday morning just after I moved back to Ohio. They were preparing to go to Findlay Market. He said, “that must be where I got my love for the market from!”

So as you can see, Findlay Market is a much loved place by our family and it started in 1937 when our parents lived there. I am sorry I didn’t ask them which building they lived in. But because of their stories, I am looking forward to the opening of the museum that will showcase early downtown living. Lots of memories started there.