Look for a towering, bronze fountain in the middle of the plaza with a heroic woman at the top, arms outstretched, pouring water like Cincinnati’s own rain goddess-she’s impossible to miss once you see her shimmering in the spray.
You’ve made it to one of Cincinnati’s proudest gems, the Tyler Davidson Fountain-or as the locals like to call her, The Genius of Water. Imagine, for a moment, standing here in 1871. The air is buzzing with excitement, gas lamps flicker all around, and people in fancy old-timey hats crowd the plaza-20,000 of them-all just to witness this moment. Henry Probasco, a wealthy businessman with a deep sense of duty and a bit of a flair for the dramatic, stands at the forefront. He’s here to honor his late brother-in-law, Tyler Davidson, and let me tell you, he doesn’t go small. Instead, he travels all the way to Munich, Germany, with one mission: to find a fountain fit for a city, a memorial that doesn’t just say “I miss you”-it shouts it from the rooftops in the splashiest way possible.
Now, picture the challenge he faces. In Munich, the artist August von Kreling, along with Ferdinand von Miller at the Royal Bronze Foundry, had been dreaming up a masterpiece, but nobody had ever wanted to pay for such grandeur. Cue Probasco, who not only funds the dream but brings his own twist. He insists on four playful drinking fountains to make sure every thirsty kid and tired traveler can get a sip-because nothing says hospitality like a bronze boy riding a dolphin or wrestling a snake, right?
By the time the fountain arrives in Cincinnati, it’s a marvel. Weighing in with twenty-four tons of cannon bronze (yes, the metal’s got some real battle scars from Denmark!) and eighty-five tons of sturdy granite, it stood-well, still stands-43 feet tall. At the top, the Genius of Water holds her arms wide, letting water pour from her fingertips in a gentle rain. Her message: this city owes its life and soul to the mighty Ohio River.
But there’s more to see up close! Each side of the square pedestal tells a mini story-workers forging iron, peasants at the mill, a steamboat loading up with travelers, fishermen with kids by the water’s edge-all the ways water gives life and power to a city. Just above, on all sides, little scenes play out in bronze: a desperate farmer praying for rain, a fireman begging for help from the sky, a girl sharing water with an elderly man, and a mother dragging her reluctant boy to bathe. (Let’s face it, even in bronze, kids don’t love bath time.)
Through the decades, this fountain has played musical chairs across the square. It’s faced east toward Europe (“Hello, ancestors!”), then west (so drivers caught a glimpse), and now south, after Fountain Square’s big facelift in 2006. For a while, the fountain even went on vacation at the Cincinnati Art Museum during renovations-proving that even statues need a break sometimes. Whenever it gets turned back on in spring, just in time for the Cincinnati Reds’ first home game, locals know the city’s real heartbeat is back.
TV fans might think the fountain looks familiar-it starred in the opening credits of “WKRP in Cincinnati." And if you hear ghost stories floating through the air, well, the plaza has made an appearance in “Ghost Adventures” too (no word yet on aquatic ghosts).
So, as you stand among the city’s tall buildings and listen to the splash and laughter around you, you’re not just witnessing a fountain; you’re in the presence of Cincinnati’s most enduring, shimmering symbol. Who knew water could make you feel this historic? And if your phone battery’s running low, don’t worry-just stand near the Genius of Water and try to recharge by osmosis. Nobody’ll judge! Give the old gal a nod for all the memories, and let’s keep wandering through Cincinnati’s living history.
