CINCINNATI — It doesn't take long to walk the village of Lockland — it's not large, just about a square mile with 3,500 residents.
But don't mistake its significance, despite its size.
For lifelong resident Mert Fritsch, Lockland is the center of her universe and she's doing everything in her power to keep any portion of its history alive and well.
In a small room, Fritsch has been combing through hundreds of Lockland artifacts — a room named after her, located in the belly of the heart of Lockland: Lockland High School.
"This is the first program of 1894 of the school district," said Fritsch, holding up the pamphlet. "This is the first graduation program."
Scattered in neat piles, plastic bins and cupboards are the news clippings, photographs and grade books from the school. Hanging on the walls are composites of Lockland High School, or Wayne High School (which was the segregated Black school in Lockland).
Virtually all of Fritsch's life has been in Lockland and at this school, where she has worked since not long after graduating from it. She met her husband of 52 years here and has the class picture from 1970 to prove it. Lockland, Fritsch admits is "very much part of me."
She shows us a photograph from 1931.
"It's the kindergarten band at Lockland School," she said. "They had a band in kindergarten. Look at that. See all their little uniforms?"
And sure enough, Fritsch has acquired a uniform, yellow and vintage.
"This is the little uniform," she said "They all had this uniform."
Pointing at the photograph, she says "His mother sewed... all of the uniforms She made all the uniforms for the whole band."
For Fritsch, sifting through the archives of what makes her community special is her joy.
"I think the coolest thing I found was the actual building blueprints," she said, pulling the ancient-looking blueprints from a stack of papers.
What drives her besides the love of her hometown is the fear of it losing its past.
"I do not want it to disappear," Fritsch said. "And I'm afraid with today's society sometimes it gets, you know, little small places like this, we get shoved under the rug."
There was a time when Lockland was a booming village.
The canals that ran through it fed the industry here. An industry that, like the canals, is gone.
"We were just the best, boomiest place," Fritsch said. "It's one square mile, so you had everything in the world here. You had all you're churches. Everything was here. Your drug stores, the men that worked in the factories that were here. All of our factories are gone."
But it's history, page after page, picture after picture, even a 100-year-old leather helmet from a football game, are all here. Fritsch has made sure of it. She knows she's meant to.
"I think if I don't do it," said Fritsch, "I'm not sure there's anybody else left to do it."
