What does sovereignty mean in 2026?
Earlier this month, convicted felon, renowned sex pest and real estate huckster President Donald Trump gave us a pretty clear answer when he committed his latest act of war. Perhaps by press time, he’ll have committed another.
On Jan. 3, Trump ordered the U.S. military to invade Venezuela’s sovereign territory and bomb several buildings in downtown Caracas, killing at least 40 in the process. The operation du jour: Kidnap Venezuela’s constitutional President Nicolas Maduro and ship him to New York to subject him to a show trial on imaginary charges of narcoterrorism.
In a press conference after the attack, Trump stated that the U.S. government is now primed to “run the country” in Maduro’s stead, and said, “We’re in the oil business. We’re going to be taking a tremendous amount of wealth out of the ground.”
Same as it ever was, Trump proudly boasts.
By his own admission, Trump and his team of ghouls have been rummaging more fervently through the ol’ imperial handbag and have dusted off the Monroe Doctrine, a wieldy colonial tool that has allowed the U.S. to run wild in the so-called “backyard” of Central and South America for the last two centuries.
It’s the very doctrine that has justified heinous and blood-soaked operations to stymie the spread of red and pink tides in Latin America — with results varying from nuclear near misses to death squads to genocidal vassals. But who knows, maybe this regime change will wind up better than the last few dozen.
Though Trump has rebranded the nineteenth-century policy, dubbing his approach as the “Donroe Doctrine” — gag me forever with a rusty spoon — the playbook remains unchanged: Expand the sphere of influence before other hegemons (in this case China and Russia) do, and stamp out state-ownership of a resource that an American dollar can’t buy. Surely God didn’t intend for the world’s largest oil reserve to sit below the Communists!
So, in the eyes of Washington, sovereignty means nothing for Latin America. Got it.
What does sovereignty mean for Greenland?
Evidently, it’s something that can be whisked out from the 57,000 residents “the easy way” or “the hard way,” as Trump puts it. Self-determination means nothing for those Greenlanders when billionaire oligarchs like Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, Michael Bloomberg and Sam Altman have investments in the semiautonomous country’s rare earth minerals.
The polls that indicate that 85% of Greenland’s citizens do not want to be a part of the U.S. empire can line birdcages for all Trump cares. After all, the island is “strategic,” Trump said, and perhaps increasingly so as the world warms, ice shelves melt and Arctic trade passages open up. Finally, climate change is good for business!
What does sovereignty mean for Minnesota?
Ostensibly, that answer is found in the 10th Amendment, which enshrines the principle that individual states hold inherent powers not given to the federal government — that self-governance and local laws can exist, provided they are subordinate to the Constitution.
But that’s a load of hooey for the federal agents indiscriminately killing people in the streets of Minneapolis, acting in blatant defiance to state and municipal law enforcement agencies, mayors and the governor, all of whom have uniformly said, “Get out and don’t come back.”
But they haven’t left. They’ve fanned out. This modern slave patrol is barging into homes, busting out windows, kidnapping workers from restaurants, barging into private spaces with all the violence they can muster, with bad tempers and prejudices holstered in their belts.
What does sovereignty mean for Yellow Springs?
In 2024, the Bureau of Criminal Investigations brought its so-called “marijuana eradication initiative” to the village by way of a Butler County helicopter and nearly two dozen armed agents to conduct a bogus raid on a Wright Street home. After a reportedly traumatizing standoff, everyone flew home empty handed. Not only was this drug bust itself a bust, but Yellow Springs Police were left in the dark — after the event, Chief Burge told the News that the raid occurred without her knowing!
Or how about the various occasions Ohio Secretary of State Frank LaRose has gone out of the way to put the kibosh on our local rule — to enact stricter regulations on Airbnbs, to amend the charter to grant noncitizens the right to vote on local matters.
How astounding it is that these very legislators and lawmakers who worship at the altar of Small Government™ are the first in line to cross every physical and political line to impede any effort that undermines their profit motives or doesn’t square with their perverse cosmology.
So, what does sovereignty mean in 2026?
I hope we can soon agree upon some pro-social definition before the waves of fascism and nihilism erode all memory of democratic, self-determined governance — here in the village, Venezuela and beyond.
*Tin Can Economy is an occasional column that reflects on object, form and scale. It considers the places and spaces we inhabit, their constituent materials and our relationship to it all. Its author, Reilly Dixon, works in production and as a reporter for the News.
This week, we present more submissions from villagers and visitors near and far, shared in response to this year’s first-of-the-year question, “What’s your favorite Yellow Springs memory?” The volume of responses we received was vast — more than any year in the 16 I’ve been with the News, at least — so we’ll keep sharing them throughout this month.
My favorite memory has got to be the proclamation of Hackysack Day this year. We gathered from around the country. We kicked footbags and hackysacks of all colors and sizes. We danced and flowed in the bubbles. Made art and hung out together mostly at Short St. All day! One big celebration for hackysack and we thank Mayor Pam for making this happen and cannot wait for next year’s Hack Day!
—Andy Mosh
Old hippie guy in tie-dye sitting on the steps of the library blowing bubbles as people passed.
—Tanya Ellenburg-Kimmet
My favorite memory would be there’s a huge, large-limbed tree just off the main street on the grounds of Antioch College. As a teenager I would climb that tree, find me a comfortable perch, sit quietly and watch life go by. That was many decades ago and I still think of it on occasion. Arguably the ’70s were the best time to be a teenager!
—Chris McLaughlin
Ice skating to school after an ice storm. Red Square Saturday night folk dancing.
—David Whitmore
Easy. Halloween night with bonfires all around town. These bonfires were set up and supplied by the village and there were adults assigned to stay at each. As a kid, we knew we could walk from one bonfire to the next.
—Eric Lipsitt
John Bryan State Park, spring, NHS picnic, hundreds of newly hatched toads crossing a path my friends and I were walking, extraordinary!
—Sandy Huggler Sopko
My first house party at Peach and Priscilla’s on Xenia Avenue in the mid-1970s.
—Debbie Austin
The Riding Centre and the Vale sprouted the seed of who I am.
—Tosha Sargent
I have decades of fond memories in the village including Saturdays at Hasser’s Barber Shop, riding in the Independence Day parade, working nights cleaning the schools, reading in the Antioch library and working out at the Wellness Center, but my favorite is getting married at the Weston House.
—Larry Shaffer
When the Boy Scouts collected the Christmas trees, made a big pile in Gaunt Park and then set them on fire! Later, once collected, the trees were shredded into a huge pile at the School Forest and the Village people spread the chips on the trails in the Pine Forest and nearby Glen trails.
—Simone Stave Demarzi
My dad taking me and my sister to hike the Glen back in the ’70s and playing in the springs. My dad and his family lived in YS for a very long time.
Oh, and in the 1990s being at a party with Dave Chappelle in YS!
—Amy Noel Stoner
Going to John Bryan State Park with my family as a kid. We would get a bucket of chicken and sides for a picnic, throw the Frisbee and go on a hike. And then later going to Young’s Dairy with our children, watching them pet the goats, having cheese curds, burgers and ice cream.
—Kim Passmore
Back from the first semester away at Miami University, I met several friends at The Trails in late December 1967. My former algebra teacher, David Anthony, was sitting at the bar. Our gaggle of girls passed him and went to the back where we ate the pizza we had missed. (Was it the fennel that made it so special?) We were home!
—Deborah Johnston
Going to the head shops and turquoise shops with my mom in early ’70s and the smell of Nag Champa incense.
—Katie Brown
My grandmother taking me and my brother to Mr. Fubs when we were kids, then lunch.
—Tracy Penewit-Bidwell
While in grade school (Beavercreek Schools) we had overnight camp at Glen Helen. It made a wonderful impression on me which has lasted over 60 years for the Glen and Yellow Springs.
—Martha Gaskill
Waiting for Sunday school to be over, having tea and scones at The Winds back in the ’80s.
—Kathy Jacobson-Voytko
Pumpkin carving parties at Oten Gallery, movies at the Little Art, losing myself for hours at Phantasm arcade, shopping at Village Variety, counter seat lunch at Dick and Tom’s, then going next door to load up on candy. Heading to the Tavern with college friends and playing something on the jukebox.
—Nic Irizawa
It’ll always be Dingleberrys for me.
—Dustie Pitstick
Hard to choose just one. I’m just happy I grew up here. But proposing to my wife before the fireworks at Gaunt Park is the correct answer.
—David A. Boyer
Trick-or-treat — chasing down the police and fire department vehicles to get full-sized candy bars and hitting up as many bonfires as possible to get doughnuts and cider with an occasional hot dog. Trick-or-treat like no other.
—Tana Mitchell Peterson
Riding my bike across town to the pool, swimming and going to the candy stand during “rest period.” All by myself (or with a friend). No parents. Anywhere.
—Ellen Young Stanley
Riding our bikes from friend’s house to friends’ houses to go to the pool at Gaunt Park for the day. Trick-or-treating from 6 p.m.–9 p.m. and going to various bonfires. Such happy childhood memories.
—Michelle Hairston
Riding our horses to Grote’s for lunch.
—Elisabeth DeForest
In general, growing up there. My home on Woodrow Street, riding my bike all over! Spending entire days and summers at Gaunt Park pool, and all the hikes through the Glen. Feeling safe, feeling loved.
—Robin Gifford
Walking downtown with my sister with 75 cents each in our pockets. We were about 10 and 11 years old.
Stopping at Erbaugh and Johnson’s to buy candy then on to the Little Art, where we were introduced to foreign films.
Several townsfolk stopping us on our travels to ask if our parents knew where we were — gentler times.
Early ’60s.
And always the Glen.
—Annie Kaelin
Selling hand-squeezed lemonade in 1972; Street Fair was a smaller community event then. We made $60. It went a long way in those days.
—Kathryn Hitchcock
Being a junior naturalist in the early ’80s. The Trailside Museum, Swinging Bridge, Pine Forest, and overnight Eco Camp.
—Travis Lewis
Second Circle Group Home for Children, 505 Lincoln Drive. My first full-time job in YS. Early ’80s. Next to Lois and Floyd Edward’s.
—Juan Rodriguez
Walking to the bakery at 2 a.m. to get fresh, hot donuts. Our cat would follow us all the way there and back.
—Peter Gilmartin
Keith and I moved to Yellow Springs way before cell phones. Everyone had “767” landlines. Our 1913 house needed all new electric so, of course, we called Larry Electric. A few days later, I had a question and called him again. I misdialed the number and the woman who answered informed me I had the wrong number, then added, “But my next door neighbor is having a cookout and I see Larry over there. Do you want me to go get him?”
I knew right then, I lived in a very special place.
—Linda Kinney
Going to the YS street fair with my grandmother. And then my mother. Then taking my own daughter. Then my daughter growing up and being a vendor at the Street Fair. My favorite memories.
—Wendy Gilmore
A bike ride downtown to get Grotes’ fries and a rainbow slush. Walking to the big hill at Gaunt Park for a sled ride. Watching little league baseball at Mills Lawn. Eating the raspberries and mulberries on the Green Street trail. Picking dandelions in the field. Walking barefoot and stepping on a prickly weed — thistle — ouch! Treehouse, cinder block/plywood bike ramp, gravel drive, kickball and badminton in the field.
—Annette L. Schooler-Zanders
Endless summer days in the Glen as kids, swimming in the blue hole — well, we called it the blue hole even though I’m pretty sure the actual blue hole is somewhere in Clifton Gorge/John Bryan. Sledding at midnight at Gaunt Park. The lifeguards all standing and blowing their whistles at the pool and rushing down to get Bomb Pops and Chico Sticks from the snack shack during the summer. The NYE ball drop. The Street Fair when it was still a sidewalk sale.
—Sam Bryn
Snowball fight, which included Rod Serling. Cookie lady came to Corry Hall.
—Truman Williamson
DG’s working for Peach and Priscilla Moore serving up the best burritos, burgers — you name it. Mr. Fub’s Party, Gabby’s BBQ. The Gulch, John Bryan Park on Sundays. Grote’s and Tastee Freeze, folk dances at John Bryan Center, Halloween neighborhood bonfires, Glen Helen, the swinging bridge, all the old cool shops, Gaunt Park on July 4, Eddie’s Pizza, Ha Ha Pizza. They used to hang a sign when they were closed that said, “HaHa! We’re closed!”
—Canaan Caesar
Open mic nights at the Goat, pizza from Bentinos’, sitting on Eagle’s Perch playing guitar.
—Phoenix Chaplin
I was born and raised in YS, but my parents were newcomers. I was jealous of my classmates when a teacher said “When I had your mother in my class…” or “Your father always…”
So a very happy memory for me is when my son came home and said, “Mr. Robey says I’m just like you — you never shut up!”
—Gilah Pomeranz Anderson
The many magical hikes in John Bryan and the Glen! Hacky sacking with friends by the train station. The festivals that are held throughout the year. There are countless!
—Brittany Amber Geer
Fireworks at Gaunt on the Fourth of July and how summer vacation never seemed to end! All the cookouts, days at the village pool and just getting to be a kid!
—Michael G. Viemeister
Playing hearts with my buddies in North Hall, Shepherd. At midnight, taking a break for a stroll down to the Village Bakery for a dozen hot, steaming, fresh-out-of-the-oven glazed donuts, then back for more all-night hearts.
—Richard Maizell
Midnight doughnuts!
—Jerry Womacks
For me it was the Holiday Tournament held at Cedarvillle College Arena in the ’70s into the ’80s. It featured YS, Cedarville, Greenview and I believe East Clinton. We played a four-team tournament for the championship over the Christmas holidays. It was very well attended by the YS fan base, and at least during my time, we dominated! And of course, the YSHS alumni tournament.
—Terry Lawson
There are so many! Spending my allowance on ribbon barrettes and Cella cherries at the drug store, then walking through the interior door to Dick and Tom’s for lunch. Buying Steiff Little Bears at the Ott shop and playing with them among the tree roots at Mills Lawn during recess. Visiting with Mary Frost-Pierson at Mysteries from the Yard when I went in to buy another Agatha Christie. Doing shows at Center Stage. Sitting on the steps at Mr. Fub’s Party half the night. Going to classic, foreign, and indie movies at The Little Art and eating Beyer Butter Bars and drinking Little Art Tea. Swimming and sledding and watching fireworks at Gaunt Park. Getting slushies at Tastee Freeze. Hanging out playing Rummy at the laundromat with my mom while we got our clothes clean. Any and every class with the incomparable Mr. Gudgel. Playing Lord of the Rings in the Glen as a kid. Choosing stickers at Knowles Green Only. My first date with my now-wife of 24 years at The Winds. Going to Young’s at 2 in the morning. Lying on the golf course, looking at the stars. Shakespeare in the amphitheater at Antioch and exploring the tea garden before the show. Picking embroidery floss for friendship bracelets at the Variety Store. The NYE ball drop, hugging friends and shouting Happy New Year. Trick-or-treat, of course, and especially the bonfires, Mary Morgan’s ghostly sheet, and visiting with Faith Patterson and Bev Price along the way. Cast parties at the Bents’, Jean Hooper’s and Jack and Ray’s. Picnic birthday parties at John Bryan with a Snoopy cake from Young’s and swimming in the pool out there afterwards. Being taken to Com’s for dinner and my folks ordering me a Shirley Temple and playing “Brown-Eyed Women and Red Grenadine” on the jukebox. Going to dance to blues bands and eat delicious food at DG’s. Walking around in the wee hours without having to be afraid.
Late Christmas Eve services at First Presbyterian, walking home across Mills Lawn in the snow, caroling with friends and tasting my first homemade caramel.
I could go on for a very long time!
—Daria Schaffnit
In 1982 my then boyfriend asked me to marry him at the altar in the Methodist Church and we rang the church bells after. He surprised me with all our friends and family waiting at the Tavern to help celebrate. Forty-three years later and he still surprises me daily.
—Susan Butler
My husband proposed using the Little Art marquee back in 2014. We were married at Glen House Inn.
—Lindsay Slone
Halloween in the village in the 1960s was a special time. The famine in Biafra was at its worst. As we children trick-or-treated, we asked for pennies to fill our UNICEF boxes. Once our penny boxes were full, we ran to the community bonfire — where our teachers and parents waited — to present our gathered coins, relishing the reward of hot cocoa and a spirit of fulfillment.
—Steve Dillon
The bowling alley with Mom, keeping score with pencil and paper. Dick and Tom’s (again with Mom) for breakfast before school when there was a snow delay. Riding my bike literally everywhere, even in winter. Cracking jokes at track practice with Mr. Gudgel. Knocking on Gabby’s door for some fries. Gulping water from the rusty spigot at Gaunt Park in the summer heat. Choreographing/performing the halftime dance with Alisha Johnson for a high school basketball game and getting a standing ovation. Whole days at the Gaunt Park pool.
—Trace Lysette
The night my husband asked me to marry him at the old Trail Tavern. That’s where we had our first date.
—Amy McFadden
Attending The Antioch School in the late 1970s into the early 1980s.
—Jessica Alt
Softball with my dad. Tuesday and Thursday nights. Then Grote’s for frozen bananas afterwards. The smell of the dry grass, the sun, the dirt, the sound of the pool, peak summer. If I had to pick one, that’s gotta be it.
—Brian Rainey
All the friends I made in grade school so many years ago. We graduated together in 1980-81 and we have been there for each other throughout our lives for marriages, births, deaths and other crises and celebrations. I couldn’t ask for a better group of friends. You know who you are and we continue to gather several times each year!
—Donna Acton Evans
When the circus came to Gaunt Park! Early ’70s?
—Rebecca Kuder
Watching the awe-inspiring 2024 total solar eclipse. Enjoying out-of-this-world food and drinks at the Sunrise Cafe.
—Maria Moontree
Going to work for Don at the Import House in 1991 and seeing a note that said Gabby’s name with a phone number tacked on a board in the back office. When he confirmed that Gabby was still BBQing and just a phone call away, I couldn’t wait to go tell my dad. Rediscovering him was great. Felt like I found the golden ticket.
—Demetria Cain
The anti-war postcards with half the village gathered at the park opposing the second Iraq war.
—Eric James Wolf
Chicha Morada and fish and chips at the Peruvian restaurant where Trail Town Brewing is currently located!
—Nicole A. Swani
Folk Dance Saturdays led by Dick and Billie Eastman. Dip-top ice cream cones from Grote’s. Horseback riding lessons at The Riding Centre. Watching the beehive inside Trailside Museum.
—Kate Mooneyham
Working as an intern naturalist at the Outdoor Education Center in 1980 changed my life for the better.
—Jay Garrett-Larsen
The time my family drove through YS, when I was just a kid, my mom yelled out, “Roll your windows up, this place is full of communists!” Roll your windows up?
—Karen E. Highman
Elsewhere! David Pippenger and I waking up Mark Arnold — and probably Terri Windling — every Saturday morning for quite a stretch; Mark was supposed to open the bookstore at 10 a.m., dammit. Rifling through hundreds of comic books, to add to our truly enormous joint “hold” pile and collection: “Guys, you gotta actually buy some of these books or they are going back out.” Fairport Convention in the background, jamming with Reggie regarding Spider-Man versus The Incredible Hulk if they ever came to blows and similarly vital topics. Special place in my heart for sure.
—Michael Young
Playing basketball at the Bryan Center, hikes to the Pine Forest, hanging out at JB State Park while skipping school. Feeding ducks at the DeWine pond with my grandmother. Fels summer camp at Antioch!
—Bonnie Clucus
Working at YSI when the people there were like family. Eating at Gabby’s.
—Diana Tillman
Long runs through Glen Helen, walks around town on winter mornings, drinks at Ye Olde Trail Tavern.
—Steve Thomas
Getting married in the Glen Helen Pine Forest in ’79 while it still existed.
—Denise Dodson
Skipped class with a group of friends to see “The Seven Samurai” at the Little Art. Afterwards, we walked down to the old ice cream stand (Dari-korner?) for a treat and saw my first rainbow! Best. Day. Ever!
—Samuel Foster
Dining at the Tavern after shopping at the Street Fair with friends or after hiking in the Glen. Pizza at Bentino’s between classes at AUM. Teaching at the Yellow Springs Community Center. So many good memories of YS!
—Josie Cook
Seeing Leon Russell perform at Peach’s Bar and Grill!
—Holly Keil
Grew up a couple of miles from there on the road the Springfield Municipal Airport is on … Blee Road. We did all our shopping, haircuts, etc. in Yellow Springs. Just walking the streets there growing up was a favorite memory.
—Steve Hess
My tiny child and I got separated at Street Fair about 20 years ago. He was like 3. I freaked out and ran home to start alerting police. This is before cell phones. By the time I got home, breathless, the ol’ landline was ringing, and it was Jenny Cowperthwaite Ruka calling from the Little Art Theatre. My child knew a safe port in the storm, and Jenny was on the phone, telling me he was safe and sound.
—Jennifer Berman
Getting married 30-plus years ago at the Blue Hole in John Bryan.
—Jim Latham
Hiking a million miles in John Bryan and Glen Helen with our late soul dog, Kona.
—Bridget Donovan-Billiter
I moved to YS around 1999 to a place on Whitehall Drive. We had just moved in and I was unpacking things in my living room when a jacked-up red truck drove by, stopped and reversed into my driveway. This tall skinny dude gets out, walks around my boyfriend’s VW truck, opens the door to it, checks out the windows, then turns around and leaves. I told my boyfriend about this strange incident and then a couple days later, the truck returns. Out pops the tall dude again carrying something, which he puts inside the truck and leaves. My boyfriend checks it out and it’s the small vent windows that were missing from his old truck. That was our first introduction to Marco Comegys. He saw the windows were missing, dug around in that insane garage of his until he found VW truck vent windows and brought them to a complete stranger. He became a good friend to us and a regular at the house. He introduced us to so many good people over the years and entertained us with many hilarious Marco stories. Best part of my time living in the village.
—Holly Combs
Where to even begin. It’s the small things like running to the little candy stand at the bottom of the Gaunt Park hill to buy candy when the whistle blew and it was “adult swim.” Spending summers running wild in the streets living off three-for-25-cent potato wedges from Weaver’s and 79-cent cones from Tasty Freeze. Sunrise bread rolls and veggie burgers. God. It’s all food. Hahaha. Caroling hay rides through town. Learning to play darts as a kid at Tricia Dy’s. Really it’s all of it. It was the best place in the world to be a kid.
—Tracy Johnson
Growing up in YS in the ’60s and ’70s was magical; lining up for hot donuts at 11 p.m. at the Village Bakery. Midnight movies at the Little Art. Hoxie Bros Circus. Folk dancing with Dick and Billie Eastman at Mills Lawn on Saturday nights. ZAPP (Roger, and the Human Body) at YSHS Sock Hop. DIV dances at Antioch in front of the student union with Clean Gene. Cruising John Bryan State Park on the weekends and seeing all the tricked-out muscle cars of the time. House parties in basements with black lights. Plays at Antioch with Esteban Vega directing, and Center Stage productions with Leon Holster. And so much more. Magical!
—Shelly Blackman
I can’t remember ever being scared, nor did I have a thing to worry about. My first 18 years were a utopia of sorts. My friends and I met at Gaunt Park nearly every day in the summer — we had to wear those awful swim caps. During rest periods we would get a snack at the candy shack and go right back to swimming. There were races and red rover, whatever else we could come up with for that excruciatingly long 15 minutes.
I loved Halloween, running as fast as we could from house to house, only stopping for a quick cider or hot dog at the bonfires.
Sledding at Gaunt Park was magical at night. We would stay for hours on end and I don’t ever remember getting cold. Fourth of July at Gaunt Park was filled with games and prizes put on by the Lions Club, then we all stayed for the fireworks. The whole town was there.
Mainly, I remember everyone knowing everyone else. All parents treated us as their children. They would feed us, allow us to do what their kids did and if we messed up, we knew they were calling our parents before we even got home. It really was a magical time to grow up in town ’64–’82.
—Amy Malone Fugate
You can’t really pick a favorite if you were raised in YS and have lived in other places. I think for me, it’s that everyone in YS were just neighbors growing up — anyone, at any time, would be there, good or bad, to support and help. We are a small, diverse, eclectic and passionate community. Arts and sports and humanity are the norm.
As a high school student in the ’80 and ’90s, to be popular meant to be in the orchestra and a sport. That doesn’t happen elsewhere.
—Heather Kronewetter
YS changed — perhaps saved — my life. I transferred to YS in high school. A weird, artistic theater kid who could also hold her own doing farm chores. I learned differently. My classmates and teachers alike embraced me and let me be exactly who I was. Mr. Smith encouraged me to try out the fairly new post-secondary opportunities my senior year. I was YSHS’s first student to go to college full-time my senior year. Through the years, YS has seen me grow and evolve into a few different versions of myself. I’m not a Mills Lawn or Antioch School kid, but I happily refer to YS as my hometown because it’s the first place that truly made me feel at home exactly as I came.
—Katie Rose Wright
Walking everywhere at any time, unlocked doors, midnight bakery donuts.
—Vicki Singleton
Growing up in such a diverse, loving, caring place which allowed my heart to be open and accepting tools for life. YS was a special place when neighbors knew each other growing up in the ’60s, ’70s, ’80s. It was a whole experience. Everything the town had to offer was a gift. I could list a lot of things but you had to be here.
—Robin Hull
Drinking 3.2 beer at Ye Ol’ Trail Tavern with my under-21-year-old friends.
Going to Glen Helen to the Yellow Spring and painting iron on our faces from the small rocks and drinking the water. Also camp and adopting an injured red hawk. The Swinging Bridge and Pine Forest.
Going to the original Young’s with our glass jug returns and getting fresh milk. Also getting ice cream at midnight with my WSU buddies.
Shopping! Love the shops that have been around for years! Yellow Springs Pottery and Ohio Silver Co.
Birkenstocks!
And so many more — can’t do just one favorite memory.
—Kimberly Montgomery-Wagaman
My family and I moved to YS in the winter of 1981 and stayed until I graduated in 1991. YS was so different from any other place we lived prior. Halloween was incredible and the whole town was involved. Fireworks on the Fourth of July was nice too. Summertime going to Grote’s or the Tastee Freeze for ice cream. Playing ball at the John Bryan Center after school with great people that I still call friends to this day! Just great memories.
—Michael Buie
As a kid living right down the street on 68, Mom would always take me and a friend into Yellow Springs and drop us off for the day. She always knew it was an area that was safe for us to roam free. We would visit shops, have lunch and do some hiking.
I continued frequenting the village as I got older, and reading the police reports while enjoying some Dino’s was always a must! My daughter and I also made it a tradition to attend the Street Fairs, where she often played her trumpet. I raised her to enjoy the town as much as I did as a child.
I was married on the stage of the Little Art Theatre in 2016, and we had one of the first receptions at Mills Park Hotel.
—Christina Ream
It was 2023 and just a few months after my son, Brandon, passed. A friend decided to get me out of the house for a few hours — nothing ambitious, just a winery visit. We got lost. GPS stopped working. We pulled into a gas station that felt off enough that we didn’t stay. We kept driving, looking for somewhere safer to stop and reorient.
And then we passed a sign that said, “Welcome to Yellow Springs.”
I lost it. I knew exactly where we were. I cried — hard — but not from sadness. It was recognition. I’d heard Dave Chappelle talk about the town in interviews over the years and always thought it felt like somewhere I’d visit “one day,” when life allowed. Somehow, on a random Tuesday, life brought me there anyway.
The town was quiet. Most places were open but unhurried. We walked to every shop, had lunch, shared a flight of beer. The energy was unmistakable — grounded, calm, intact. From that day on, Yellow Springs became a place I returned to when I needed peace. Not escape. Regulation.
It’s the place my body remembers how to breathe.
—Brenda Colter
As kids, summertime Saturday morning movies at John Bryan. Groups of us either walking or riding bikes to Gaunt Park to spend the day swimming. In the fall there was the book fair at Mills Lawn with games, food and fun. Halloween walking the village going to each of the bonfires. Winter sledding down the hill at Gaunt Park. Christmas going house to house to visit. Spring was the Sidewalk Sale — pre-Street Fair. Catching the bus to go skating in Xenia. Sneaking out our back door on High Street, going through a fence to Com’s kitchen to get chicken sandwiches from Goldie. As I got older it was coming home for holidays and hanging at Com’s then DG’s or the Gulch. Other memories: Gabby’s on the corner of Dayton Street and Corry, the drive-through. Can’t forget donuts at midnight at the bakery. Oh man, Yellow Springs was a great place to grow up.
—Don Caesar
Gemini Music!
Mr. Fub’s Toy Store!
The Street Fair!
—Clover Wright
So hard to choose … having to decide between the Tastee Freeze and Grote’s corner was never easy, both being so good! Dining at the Tavern was always a great time and still is. Visiting Dark Star Bookstore at each of its locations as Mary Alice’s success started in King’s Yard, I believe, and evolved to Xenia Avenue and its eventual location today. Playing Little League baseball on the diamond that used to be behind Mills Lawn was such a great memory, similar to the soccer leagues we all participated in at early ages at Gaunt Park. Being spoiled by growing up so close to Glen Helen and spending many an afternoon strolling the amazing trails and seeing so many great natural sights like the Pine Forest, the Cascades and what used to be the Swinging Bridge. It would be a crime not to mention the Little Art Theatre, enjoying some hot tea with honey and a couple Beyer Bar cookies and a movie. Possibly the best part as a kid growing up here is being able to walk or ride your bicycle to all of these places.
—Dave Brown
Years of all-ages pickup soccer games at Gaunt Park, hanging at the pool there all summer and getting those awful yet awesome chalky lollipops, Eco Camp, movies at the Little Art, walking out of The Winds fully nourished to a peaceful, empty, snowy street, riding bikes all over town and through the surrounding countryside.
But the best was always exploring the Glen with my bestie day and night throughout high school. Oh, the miles we put in! We once randomly ran into a professional photographer on the trail who asked to take our picture and later mailed me a copy. I had completely forgotten it and rediscovered it recently during a move. That friend died way too young a couple of years ago. I’m grateful to have the photo to trigger happy memories from a time in Yellow Springs before we all carried cameras in our pockets. I’ve lived 2,500 miles away for many years now, but Yellow Springs always feels like coming home.
—Kelly Goldsmith
By Chris Wyatt
Dec. 21, 2025
It’s the winter solstice today, and it’s freezing. I need to walk the little dog, and help Karen in her studio, but for now I’m enjoying a coffee. It’s quiet. The only sounds are Karen gently swearing at her new phone, as she attempts to get photos from the phone into Facebook, and Archie low-key growling at imaginary threats. Paradise, really.
Dec. 27, 2025
Today is the kind of day where I vacillate between extremes:
1. Build a fire, sharpen chainsaw, bring down four, leggy, 30-foot-tall, black walnut trees, section them up and stack them for next winter; or
2. Sit on sofa with dog, read book, go for afternoon beer, make beans.
Either one is attractive to me, but Archie can’t be around when I’m felling trees. So, I’m vacillating. Also, I can’t fell trees or use a chainsaw if I am alone, and everybody in my house is busy being other places. So, number 2 is currently winning.
Maybe I build a fire, sharpen the chainsaw, hangout with Archie and then come back home. I could then read a book, have a beer and make beans. This way I can be ready to fell trees tomorrow, though it is predicted to rain. Hmm. Next week will be cold again and it’s good to bring trees down in the cold, but I also have to get syllabi ready and complete inspection reports.
I’m definitely retiring in five years. This is too much. We have been in America 19 years today, maybe. I aim to work for 25 years here, and then retire. We shall see what happens to my pension over the next five years.
Ahhhh, beans.
I upped my bean intake to increase fiber, and I really enjoy the variety. These are yellow eye beans, and I’ll cook them with a smoked turkey thigh and aromatics (garlic, celery, bay leaves). Then I shall portion them up in bags and freeze them for lunches — solid rib-sticking winter food. There is nothing quite like a steaming bowl of beans on a winter’s evening. Soup of the gods.
Dec. 28, 2025
Folk say that the days between Christmas and New Year are wilderness days where time isn’t real.
Unfortunately for me time is very real, as I need to be at work tomorrow, even though the university is officially closed. Syllabi don’t just magically write themselves, especially when folk retire and leave holes in the classes that need to be expertly stitched.
For now though, I shall drink coffee and then walk the little greying dog. He is a happy beast, full of fire, but he is getting older, and his face and paws are white, not black. As winter progresses, he will grow a thick mane around his neck. It’s already coming in strong, and he looks very regal. I have been tardy this morning and he is due for a walk, but I need to drink this coffee and take my medications first. All things in time.
I’m not sure about “wilderness days,” but being in your late 50s does feel a little like the wilderness years. I need to set a few more goals. I have a cabin in the woods, we should really begin to repair it, as it is rotting from the ground up. Maybe I can get someone to work on it one wall at a time. I don’t really have money saved anymore — as I save it, it gets spent. The surgery co-pay was $6,000, and so that wiped out the cash I managed to squirrel away last year. Still, repairing one wall at a time over the next five years will probably save the building, so it is worth doing. However, I have no building skills, and so we will employ someone to do the work.
As for other goals, I don’t know. I should begin to plan next year’s garden, that always cheers me up.
Sixty-five degrees and cloudy today, it’s like a British summer’s day. Tomorrow it will be 20degrees. Ohio can be a little crazy weather-wise.
Jan. 1, 2026
A brutally cold New Year’s Day. I lit a fire but won’t stay out tonight, as I need creature comforts today.
The wood we recently had delivered burns well; it is seasoned perfectly. I managed to take little Archie for a romp in the woods, but it really is too cold, and he was raising his paw after five minutes. Five minutes next to a wood-burning stove and he was happy as a clam.
Dinner tonight will be sausages with horseradish-mashed potatoes and red cabbage, a soothing way to start the year. I shall have a lazy day tomorrow, then it’s the weekend and then back to work for another four-month semester.
Jan. 2, 2026
It will remain below freezing for three more days and then we get a reprieve. I’ll continue lighting fires at the Hall, but am unlikely to stay out overnight because of the toilet situation. Still, I can get the chainsaw sharpened, and achieve a few other easily obtainable goals.
We will get our annual family photo taken today. An annual ritual where Kate H. swings by our house and takes several rapid photos of the five of us, while squeaking a dog toy to get Archie’s attention. Genius.
Not that it works, mind you; little Arch is far more interested in everything else that is going on.
*Originally from Manchester, England, Chris Wyatt is an associate professor of neuroscience, cell biology and physiology at Wright State University. He has lived in Yellow Springs for 19 years, is married and has two children and an insane Patterdale terrier. “The Patterdale Hall Diaries,” by Chris Wyatt, is now available in book format via Amazon for $11.99.
For a lot of folks, old medication languishes in the bathroom cabinet or elsewhere around the house until it’s time to make room for incoming items. When that time comes, what to do with medicine that’s past its expiration date?
The answer appeared last week in the lobby of the Bryan Center: a metal dropbox, situated just to the left of the YS Police Department’s dispatch window. With a sign attached to the front that reads, “Discard your unused or expired medications here,” the new medication disposal box is now available for use during the Bryan Center’s open hours.
The box is the result of a collaboration between the YS Police Department, local resident Emma Robinow and Odd Fellows Lodge #279, and is designed to safely collect prescription drugs, over-the-counter medications and even vitamins. Robinow, a pharmacist who spearheaded the project, told the News this week that folks are often stymied when it comes to what to do with medication once the expiration date has passed.
“It’s a question I get a lot at work: ‘I’ve got these extra old medications. What do I do with them?’” she said. “So I felt like it was a need for our community, and the lodge would be a great organization to help with that.”
Robinow noted that expired medications lose their efficacy and shouldn’t be used, but that simply throwing them in the trash presents a hazard, since they could be misused or accidentally ingested if found.
“You also don’t want to flush them down the toilet,” she said, noting that flushing drugs of any kind could introduce them into the municipal wastewater system. The drop box, on the other hand, is locked, and its contents, once inside, are inaccessible by the general public.
“So this is a great way to safely and securely dispose of medications,” she said.
A longtime member of the local Odd Fellows lodge, Robinow brought the idea before the group. David Robinow, Emma Robinow’s father and a member of the lodge, said the group was already looking for projects that were community-focused and visible to the public, and voted unanimously to fund the box.
“Everybody seemed to think it was a decent idea,” he said.
The YS Police Department agreed: Chief Paige Burge said the box is a good fit for the Bryan Center. Village crews mounted it in view of a security camera, so the YSPD can “keep an eye on things.”
Burge said that, depending on how full the box gets, medications dropped off will likely be taken for disposal quarterly. YSPD has partnered with an area animal crematorium to dispose of medications via incineration.
“They do that for us completely free,” Burge said, adding that there is no contact between the medication and any animal remains.
Burge also said the box is not designed to collect illicit substances, which could be harmful if airborne or exposed to skin. Any such substances found, she said, should be turned in at the YSPD directly. Other materials not accepted in the dropbox include needles or sharps, inhalers, aerosol cans, thermometers, lotions or liquids and hydrogen peroxide.
The new box has already seen some use: David Robinow said he’s already used it twice himself. Emma Robinow thanked local resident Sarah Badger, Village Manager Johnnie Burns and Chief Burge for their aid in getting the project off the ground, and said she and the Odd Fellows are glad to have helped provide something useful for the community. The successful project, she added, highlights what the Odd Fellows can do for the village down the road.
“I think the Odd Fellows are happy and open to helping with future projects,” Emma Robinow said. “There’s a lot of resources and a lot of things I think we could do for the community. We may just need ideas or suggestions or people to join.”
The Odd Fellows Lodge #279 was established in the village in 1855, and has a longstanding mission of civic service. Local members — which, despite the group’s name, include women and men — meet on the second and fourth Tuesday of each month, and the lodge funds scholarships and road clean-up projects annually. Those projects are funded by rental income from the lodge’s Xenia Avenue building, which houses both Sunrise Cafe and YS Pharmacy.
“We donate to the community, and it’s really important, I think, that we maintain our membership, because if the lodge ever folds, the building will revert to the state level lodge, and that resource that benefits Yellow Springs will disappear,” David Robinow said. “So we’re open to membership.”
He added: “I’ve been a member for almost 28 years now, and we’ve never rejected a potential member.”
For more information on Odd Fellows Lodge #279, go to http://www.ioofohio.org/yellowsprings279
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