CLEVELAND, Ohio – “Cleveland, You’ve Got to be Tough.”

For years, it was more than a slogan. It was a way to cope with the cataclysmic fall of an industrial powerhouse whose workers and factories were instrumental in building the country.

There was the economic decline. The population losses. The damaged psyche of a city that had stopped believing in itself.

And, of course, there were the jokes… Cleveland, the city where the river caught on fire.

Story by John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

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Mitchell Zaremba, The Plain Dealer

In 1969, the infamous Cuyahoga River fire became national news. As a result, Cleveland became a national punchline.

(Photo: Cleveland Fire Department fire boat Anthony J. Celebrezze at the scene of the June 22, 1969 Cuyahoga River fire.)

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“The river was just one of Cleveland’s troubles and was symbolic of a larger decline,” says David Thomas.

The singer of legendary Cleveland band Peru Ubu lived through the city’s darkest times and responded to them with a toughness that embodied Cleveland.

(Photo: Republic Steel, circa 1973. For years, the biggest concern revolved around the impact of factories on the air rather than waterways such as the Cuyahoga River.)

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Marvin M. Greene, The Plain Dealer

“You also had people moving out of the city and [then-Mayor] Ralph Perk’s hair catching on fire,” says Thomas. “And there were a lot of comedy writers (many of whom were from Cleveland) writing all these jokes about the city.”

The mockery beat up on Clevelanders’ collective psyche – making them increasingly insecure about their place in the world. It inspired a very different, more irreverent response from the music scene that cascaded through the region.

(Photo: Sludge drips off the fingers of Plain Dealer reporter Richard Eller after he dipped his hand in the polluted Cuyahoga River in Cleveland Ohio, in an undated photo taken sometime in the 1960s.)

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A 1973 photo that shows sewage discharged into the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland by the city pump station. The photo is part of DOCUMERICA: The Environmental Protection Agency's Program to Photographically Document Subjects of Environmental Concern, 1972 - 1977.

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Plain Dealer Historical Photograph Collection

Cleveland’s attitude – the mentality of an underdog that fights on when it is belittled –spawned bands that achieved legendary status throughout the world – Pere Ubu, but also Devo, Rocket From the Tombs, the Dead Boys the Cramps, Peter Laughner, Electric Eels and the Pagans.

“If something you love is mocked, you love it even more and embrace it, and that’s what we did,” says Thomas, a former Clevelander, in a phone interview from his home in Brighton, England. “We had to turn our backs to the world to have self-respect.”

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Special Collections, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland State University, Cleveland Press collection

Bands such as Pere Ubu documented the industrial environment of Cleveland in songs and its “Heart of Darkness” is considered a pioneering track of the 1970s underground rock scene.

“The Cuyahoga River flows through our ‘Heart of Darkness’ and the geography. It separates two sides of town and is filled with metaphors and symbolism,” says Thomas. “US Steel was as much a part of the natural environment as a bird nest in nature. Just as beavers build damns, we built factories.

(Photo: The Cuyahoga River fire of 1948, as seen from the old Clark Avenue bridge. On right of photo is Republic Steel wharf. Fires were a common occurrence on the river going back to the 1800s.)

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“Clearly, I didn’t want a polluted river, but I never saw Cleveland as some mass embarrassment. When I’d hear people making jokes about Cleveland, the response would be, ‘Yeah, so what.’”

(Photo: The old Clark Avenue Bride, circa 1973, which spanned the Cuyahoga. For years, the biggest concern revolved around the impact of factories on the air rather than waterways such as the Cuyahoga River.)

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You've got to be tough...

Such irreverence was part of a broader response – the mentality of an underdog that fights on when it is belittled.

“We reveled in our industrial personality and wore ‘Cleveland You’ve Got To Be Tough’ T-shirts,” says Jane Goodman, executive director of Cuyahoga River Restoration, which works to protect and revive the river basin. “But where there was pride, there was also shame.”

(Photo: Kids play on an abandoned car overlooking the Cuyahoga River. The 1973 photo was taken as part of an EPA study on pollution in America. )

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Cleveland State University. Michael Schwartz Library. Special Collections

“For a long time, people were afraid that cleaning up the river would result in a loss of jobs,” says Goodman. “As jobs left and people moved out of the dirty parts of town, there came a realization that something had to be done.”

(Photo: The old Old Jefferson St. Bridge, circa 1963, located at Jefferson and West Third Streets in Tremont. The bridge was the site of a fire in 1952, resulting in the closing of the bridge, until it was torn down years later.)

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Norbert J. Yassanye, The Plain Dealer

This archival photo from May 2, 1963 illustrates why a river could catch on fire. It shows the oily scum on the Cuyahoga River in this aerial view of the refinery and storage tank area where filthy Kingsbury Run (lower foreground) joins the river. At upper right is Standard Oil Co.'s No. 1 refinery at 2735 Broadway S.E. On the west bank (left in this view) two long-distance pipe lines terminate. Two tanks at bottom store marine fuel. Street with missing bridge across the river is Jefferson Street.

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Special Collections, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland State University, Cleveland Press collection

Pollution also led to the disappearance of non-human life forms: bugs, fish and birds. At its low point, the Cuyahoga River was hospitable to only the most pollution-tolerant of fish, such as carp.

A ground-up approach – literally – was required. In many places around the river, 100 percent of the soil dredged out was contaminated and had to be taken to a confined disposal facility.

(Photo: Oil burns on the land and the Cuyahoga River along the Flats -- this time on March 14, 1951.)

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

First came the new soil. Then the plants, flowers, trees, bugs, fish, birds, bats, beaver, mink, deer and coyotes. Then came the humans – even those who returned with a fishing rod and line.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

“You can see the natural indicators that life has returned when you see herons and eagles and seagulls and cormorants flying around,” says Goodman. “They’re back to eat fish – and it’s a sign that things are a lot healthier under the surface.”

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

She points to Scranton Flats, now a significant pocket of fish habitat on the West Bank along Scranton Road, just outside downtown. It offers stellar views of the city skyline, the river, industry and a sprouting natural habitat full of fish and birds, flowers and joggers.

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Thomas Ondrey, The Plain Dealer

Aerial photograph of Mittal Steel, in the Flats, Cleveland taken on Wed. June 1, 2011. The famed fire on the Cuyahoga took place near the bridge crossing the Cuyahoga River at center.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Scranton Flats features an observation deck that provides stellar views of the unique mix of industry and nature that co-exists around the river.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Flowers bloom amid industry in Scranton Flats, along the Cuyahoga River and Scranton Road.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

“We are so fortunate to have a river with industry and nature rubbing elbows,” says Pat Conway, co-founder of Great Lakes Brewing Co. “Cities usually have one or the other, but Cleveland is so unique because it has both and revival of the river has given us an opportunity to enjoy the outdoors while appreciating amazing urban architecture.”

(Geese lounge around the Ohio and Erie Canal marker in Settler's Landing as a team of rowers on the Cuyahoga River go past them.)

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Conway and Great Lakes Brewing have helped revive another neglected part of the river that also incorporates nature and industry: The area around the old Cleveland Coast Guard station at the mouth of the Cuyahoga River.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

The historic, circa-1940 Art Moderne station at the end of a 1,000-foot pier has remained largely abandoned since 1976 – an architectural gem that time forgot and weather showed no mercy – on the west bank of the river, just north of Wendy Park.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

For years, efforts to bring the station and the area along the river back to life seemed like a pipe-dream, even to hard-core supporters of preservation.

A mere three years ago you could walk right in: The door was busted down by curiosity-seekers and the floor was covered with beer bottles and cans and debris. The walls were covered with graffiti. The place looked like it had been left for dead.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

The idiosyncratic confluence of natural and urban environments was visited by only the most adventurous and barely known to the public at large.

“We had to change people’s perceptions before we could change reality,” says Conway. “We had to bring people down here to see this stunning view of the city and the water and the bridges and all these birds that have returned to the area.”

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Special Collections, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland State University, Cleveland Press collection

Changing perceptions...

Roll out the Great Lakes Burning River Festival.

Since 2009, the annual bash has brought thousands of Clevelanders to listen to bands, drink beer and get acquainted with this once-forgotten station. Burning River has also raised funds to assist in the renovation and upkeep of the city-owned property, which Cleveland Metroparks has managed since 2016.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

The name of the festival, of course, refers to the 1969 fire – which it plans to mark the 50th anniversary of June 21-22, part of a city-wide series of events. The co-opting of the name is part of a broader trend in rebranding Cleveland by co-opting slogans and scenes from the city’s past.

(Photo: Cleveland Fire Boat Anthony J. Celebrezze -- built in 1961 and used to put out the infamous 1969 fire -- is still in service and sits docked along the west bank of the Cuyahoga River at Fire Station No. 21 on Scranton Road, in Cleveland.)

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Special Collections, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland State University, Cleveland Press collection

“It’s about honoring Cleveland’s history with a sense of humor and, in the process, turning it around and making a positive out of a negative,” says Kim Henderson, co-owner of Cleveland apparel company So CLE Tees. “Younger generations generally view the city’s past more positively than people who lived through the bad times – and all these Cleveland t-shirts reflect a reinvention of the city.”

(Photo: The Cuyahoga River fire of 1952 took place on Jefferson & West Third streets and caused much more damage than the 1969 blaze.)

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Nowhere has the river experienced a greater reinvention than in the Flats East Bank.

The $750 million mixed use development is a complete reimagining of an area that was Cleveland’s most popular entertainment district in 1980s and ’90s. It features 14 bars and restaurants, apartments and offices and a 1,200-foot riverfront boardwalk. Plans call for more entertainment options, including a movie theater.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

“We’re at the point where we’re looking forward rather than backwards when it comes to Cleveland – and the river is a big part of that,” says restaurateur Brian Gresham, a consultant for True Cocktails and Bites in the Flats East Bank.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

“The key now is to use the lure of these underutilized assets like waterfronts to get people returning to live in and experiencing the city. Knowing that we’ve moved on from the burning river and all those negative images is a big part of moving forward.”

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Ironically, that’s the objective of 50th anniversary commemorations of the fire: Not to mourn the fire, but rather to celebrate the turnaround, from a national joke to a source of civic pride.

“People come from out of town and their jaws drop when they see this unique mix of sceneries, where you can watch birds and fish amid the bridges and then see some massive ship coming up the river,” says Conway. “These waterways are our Yosemite, our Grand Canyon. Any revival of Cleveland starts with them.”

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You've come a long way, baby...

A 1973 photo for an EPA project to study pollution in Cleveland and across the United States proclaims, "Here on the banks of the Cuyahoga RIver (Moses Cleaveland) founded a city. Now, the river is polluted and the surrounded downtown area is deteriorating."

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Rowers cruise down the Cuyahoga River past Settler's Landing. In the last decade, the river has become a magnet for rowing clubs and teams.

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William Neff, The Plain Dealer

Map of the Cuyahoga River.

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Transformation around the bend...

The Great Republic came around the bend of the Cuyahoga River like she had done so many times before. Two men looked out from the 634-foot-long carrier ship to survey the landscape.

On this lazy afternoon, there were many more people looking back at it.

Joggers on the boardwalk stopped to get a glimpse of the ship. Diners and drinkers at Merwin's Wharf turned their heads. Even a shaggy, white dog trying to lap up the last drops of water from a cup stopped to look up.

It wasn’t just the sight of the massive ship hauling taconite pellets to a steel mill that made this scene striking.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

There was something else that would have seemed impossible just a decade ago in Rivergate Park: The lively coalescence of industry and entertainment along a river once left for dead.

The Cuyahoga has been transformed into a magnet for all kinds of leisurely activity.

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Marvin M. Greene, The Plain Dealer

For 150 years, the Cuyahoga was a vessel for industry and transportation – not recreation. It was the heart and soul of the Cleveland’s economic rise. It symbolized our sense of self as a hard-working town that builds things.

But growth and prosperity also exacted a thick, dirty price. Years of use and misuse and the dumping of chemicals and waste into the river had turned it into an open sewer and an ecological nightmare.

(Photo: A steel mill looms behind the ore boat Henry Phipps, being unloaded at Flats quayside.)

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A late-1800s photo of Rockefeller's Standard Oil Corporation, via Cleveland State University. Michael Schwartz Library. Special Collections

While industrialists like Rockefeller fueled Cleveland's industrial boom, they also contributed to the pollution of the river.

"Companies like Standard Oil didn't even use pipes to get the oil down the hill -- they'd just dig a ditch at the bottom and roll it down the hill," says Jane Goodman, executive director of Cuyahoga River Restoration.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Rockefeller Boulevard, of course, is named after John D. Rockefeller -- who operated Standard Oil out of offices located on the road overlooking the Cuyahoga River. (View of Cuyahoga from the former location of Old Jefferson Street Bridge, off Rockefeller Blvd)

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

As the city sets out to mark the 50th anniversary of the Fire of ’69, it seems like ancient history in Rivergate Park. The 2.8-acre area along the East Bank of the Cuyahoga, just north of the Columbus Road Bridge, has been instrumental in transforming this section of the waterway into a lifestyle amenity.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

“Industry will always play a big part in the river, but we’re seeing the role of the river change as the public gravitates toward the water for a variety of activities,” says Brian Zimmerman, CEO of Cleveland Metroparks.

Rivergate Park reflects the many pieces in the puzzle – and years – required to change landscapes, but also mindsets. It began the when the Cleveland Rowing Foundation bought the land, rowers discovered the area and spread the word.

“And then, piece by piece, everything else started to follow,” says Zimmerman.

CRF was joined by Ohio City Bicycle Co-op. Cleveland Metroparks opened Merwin’s Wharf, a full-service eatery that boasts an eclectic cocktail list and a sprawling patio on the river. By 2017, the area livened up more with the Crooked River Skate Park, Brick and Barrel winery and brewery, and the Foundry – a facility that teaches and trains rowers – housed in a 19th-century foundry.

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

This is about more than reciting a laundry list of openings. It’s about changing an environment so you can change a mindset, says Zimmerman.

“Most Clevelanders couldn’t even find this area or figure out how to access much of the river,” adds Zimmerman. “It’s hard to navigate and it’s crooked and winding, but it was also polluted and forgotten.”

Left for dead is perhaps more accurate.

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Domain of industry...

In the collective consciousness, the six-mile stretch of river running south of Lake Erie and through the Flats was the domain of industry – not the people.

“Cuyahoga was a by-product of our prosperity and we reveled in that, even when the river was a big, opening dumping site for industry,” says Jane Goodman, executive director of Cuyahoga River Restoration.

The nonprofit organization was created in 1988 by the Ohio EPA to help improve and protect water quality and the overall life of the river and associated waterways.

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Special Collections, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland State University, Cleveland Press collection

Fire boats have been in action on the river since the 1800s. This one is depicted in Cleveland postcard from the 1910s.

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The Plain Dealer

The fire barely made the news when it occurred. A report about it appeared on page 11-C the following day in The Plain Dealer -- a basic news item without even a reporter's byline.

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Special Collections, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland State University, Cleveland Press collection

The Cuyahoga had already experienced a handful of fires less than a century after Moses Cleaveland landed on it in 1796. Already by 1881, then-Cleveland Mayor Rensselaer R. Herrick proclaimed that it was an "open sewer." The river, you see, quickly became a victim of its strategic position. For this reason, it has been patrolled by fire boats from its rise as a transportation artery for industry. This 1912 postcard features the "John H. Farley."

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Special Collections, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland State University, Cleveland Press collection

There have been a number of fires on the Cuyahoga River over the years, with some claiming more than a dozen. This one took place in 1949.

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Special Collections, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland State University, Cleveland Press collection

The June 22, 1969 fire, caused by a debris-filled oil slick under two trestles at the foot of Campbell Road hill, lasted 20 minutes and caused only $50,000 in damages. That was peanuts compared with the 1952 inferno that claimed $1.5 million. But EPA hearings on ecological damage and media national coverage that focused on the '69 fire made Cleveland an easy punchline as "The city with the river that caught on fire."

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Only a nub remains of Jefferson Bridge, the site of the 1952 fire. But even this little-traveled part of the river has seen new activity in the last decade. It's become a popular fishing spot.

(Photo: Looking southward from the remnants of the Jefferson Bridge.)

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Chuck Crow, The Plain Dealer

Even though the 1969 fire was barely mentioned when it occurred, it became a national news story when a Time magazine story on the environment focused on the contaminated Cuyahoga River. As a result, Cleveland became a national joke.

( Photo: Where the winding, crooked Cuyahoga River meets Lake Erie.)

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John Petkovic, The Plain Dealer

Now, every year, Cuyahoga River Restoration celebrates the anniversary of the Fire of 1969, er, rather the "re-birthday" of the river.

"Fifty years ago, you couldn’t even touch the river because it was so contaminated,” says Goodman. “We've come a long way since 1969 ,and looking back, we should be thankful for that fire – it was the blaze that sparked a rebirth.”

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On June 22, Cleveland will celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Cuyahoga River fire of 1969. These days, that infamous day is a not only an ancient memory -- it is also being celebrated as the beginning of a miraculous comeback for a river that has increasingly become a magnet for leisure and entertainment.