Sunday, February 14, 1999
Carl Ruh looks back and ahead
Former sheriff has seen a lot
BY PATRICK CROWLEY
The Cincinnati Enquirer
Carl Ruh's body hasn't worked for 78 years. His brain most certainly has.
“God didn't give me much physically,” Mr. Ruh says with a fast smile, “but I sure thank him for giving me a good mind.”
Mr. Ruh is missing one leg, the other is useless from a bout with polio he had when he was 5 years old. He maneuvers around his bright Sunnymeade Avenue home in Fort Mitchell in a motorized wheelchair.
“I've been this way for so long, you just get used to it,” Mr. Ruh says quickly, not wishing to dwell on the topic. There's too much else to talk about.
His mind works faster than his mouth. The ideas and memories rush into words so fast that he's holding two or three conversations at once, all with the same person.
“When I was (Kenton County) sheriff in the '60s, and growing up in Covington, all the bars had a handbook,” he recalls. “Dedden's, Boogie Burns, Nieman's, the 627 Club, the Carr Brothers.
“Most of the people just went in there to get a beer, smoke a cigar and put down a 50-cent bet. There was no syndicate, no Mob in those small places.”
He was involved in a few raids, “but they knew how to operate without getting caught.
“Besides, if we would have raided some of those places, we would have found attorneys, lawyers, doctors, business people and plenty of reporters,” he laughs.
One untold story
While making a point over his concern about Internet gambling coming into people's homes and getting them addicted betting, he abruptly stops to point to the picture of him shaking hands with LBJ.
“There's a story behind that photograph,” he says, but we don't get to it. Time to talk abortion.
“I'm a Catholic, and I'm pro-life,” Mr. Ruh said, talking of how he belonged to the long-defunct St. Patrick's Church in Covington, which once stood on that plain of fast-food restaurants and gas station/convenience stores near I-75.
“But some of these anti-abortion groups, they just get me so mad,” he says, his still strong hand forming into a fist. “They play too much politics. They use the issue to get their people elected.”
We're back to LBJ, but only because the photo was snapped at the airport.
“That was back when you couldn't serve a drink at the airport,” he says. “When I was in the legislature, we worked to change that. Even brought most of the General Assembly up here for a lunch so they could see what we had in this airport, and see all the potential.”
Carl Ruh doesn't have merely something to say. He has a lot to say.
Looking at the future
Who wouldn't after a life spent as a Covington Catholic and Thomas More College teacher, a county sheriff, and a state representative and senator.
He reads the paper, he watches the news, he surfs the Net, he chats on his ham radio. He calls a reporter to talk and offer not just an amazing history lesson of a time that fewer and fewer people can recall, but also to use his vast experience and incredible perspective to comment on the future of Kentucky politics, government and life.
Government needs to make it easier for voters to recall politicians. The state Constitution needs to be changed to revamp county offices like jailer and sheriff.
“We should do away with jailer as an elected office,” he proposes. “Hire somebody to do it.
“And I don't want to hear these sheriffs talking about doing police work. They collect millions of dollars in taxes every year. We don't need cops in the sheriff's office, we need accountants and bookkeepers and people schooled in public finance.”
He's 83 but doesn't wallow in the past. He likes to talk about it, what he did and what he saw. And he uses what he has learned and seen to try to solve the problems of tomorrow, not yesterday.
Carl Ruh spent a life in the public eye on crutches, during times when folks with disabilities weren't handicapped or physically challenged, they were “cripples.”
No motorized wheelchairs, no Americans With Disabilities Act, no ramps, handicap accessible buildings or blue tags to hang on a rearview mirror.
Yet not once during a two-hour conversation that seemed more like 20 minutes did he complain about his condition. He's proud of what he accomplished with it.
“Feel this grip,” he says, thrusting his hand outward and squeezing a visitor's fingers. “Strong, right?”
Yes, it is.
He likes his Notre Dame football and his Blanton's bourbon. He looked good one day last week, decked out in a handsome red and white striped shirt, paisley suspenders and a maroon Dior tie.
“We're going to dinner tonight,” he says of the caregiver who has lived with him since his wife passed away a few years ago.
“But boy, do I miss the good restaurants we had around here a few years ago.”
Within about 15 seconds he rattles off the names of a dozen restaurants that no longer exist but must have been awfully memorable to his generation.
"Stop by anytime'
The visitor gets up to leave. Mr. Ruh understands, but there's no reason to waste the walk from the living room to the door.
“Look at this picture, me and Phyllis George,” he said, pointing to a picture of the former Kentucky first lady with her arm around his shoulder.
“I was a John Y. Brown man. He was good governor, a good man.”
Carl Ruh didn't see it all in Northern Kentucky politics, but he saw a lot. He wants to talk about it. His stories are real and funny, insightful and unforgetable. And they definitely don't ramble.
“Stop by anytime. I'll pour you a Blanton's over some ice made with distilled water. That's the only way to drink it.
“Let's do this again.”
Yeah, let's.
Patrick Crowley covers Kentucky politics for The Kentucky Enquirer. His column appears Thursdays and Sundays. He can be reached at 578-5581, or 502-875-7526 in Frankfort, or by e-mail at crowleys@cinci.infi.net.
Patrick Crowley covers Kentucky politics for the Enquirer. He can be reached at 578-5581, or (502) 875-7526 in Frankfort.
CROWLEY ARCHIVE
