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Columbus Tries to Keep Summer From Going Sideways

Columbus has reached the part of summer where city leaders are asking one of the hardest questions in local government: how do you keep young people safe, accountable, occupied, and out of trouble without turning every neighborhood event into a police state. 

That question got louder after St. Catharine Catholic Church’s annual FunFest was shut down earlier this month when multiple fights broke out among groups of teenagers. Columbus police said the event drew a huge crowd of juveniles, with one estimate around 300. Bexley Mayor Ben Kessler said there may have been 500 to 800 teenagers there, most of whom were peaceful, which feels important to say before everyone starts talking like every 14-year-old in Central Ohio arrived with a tactical plan.

Most of the teenagers there were not fighting, stealing, or causing damage. They were doing what teenagers have done forever: showing up somewhere in a pack, burning off summer energy, and making adults nervous by existing in large numbers. But when a small portion of that crowd crossed the line, the whole event paid for it.

The fight broke out around 7 p.m. at the festival on South Gould Road, near the Columbus and Bexley border. Initial reports mentioned possible gunshots, but Bexley officials later said there was no evidence of a weapon. Still, the night unraveled fast. Eleven people were arrested after the fights, nearby reports of theft, and vandalism at businesses along Main Street, including a CVS and Giant Eagle.

More than 100 police cruisers and officers reportedly responded to help disperse the crowd. No injuries were reported, which matters. A lot. The police response was large, fast, and, thankfully, ended with everyone making it home safely. But the disruption was still enough for St. Catharine to cancel the rest of the 2026 FunFest, ending a neighborhood tradition early because safety had to come first.

Now, the Columbus City Council is weighing changes to the city’s youth curfew, including moving it from midnight to 10 p.m. Leaders are also discussing ways to hold parents accountable when children repeatedly violate curfew.

Parent accountability is part of the conversation too, though even that is more complicated than it sounds. Some parents are checked out. Some are working late. Some are trying their best and still losing the nightly battle against phones, group chats, and whatever plan their kid definitely did not fully explain before leaving the house.

That is what makes this story difficult. The easiest thing to do is point fingers. The more useful thing to do is admit the obvious: raising kids, policing crowds, running public events, and keeping a growing city safe are all hard. Despite that, Columbus is trying anyway.

Council President Shannon Hardin has framed the issue as part of a larger conversation about youth safety, safe places, parent accountability, and what the city can do before small problems turn into big police responses. And to the city’s credit, Columbus is not treating this like a problem that starts at 10 p.m. and disappears at 10:01.

This year, the city announced nearly $7.5 million in Summer Youth Program Grants for 105 nonprofit organizations offering academic support, career readiness, youth development, violence prevention, and other programming. Those grants are part of a broader youth engagement strategy that has been around since 2020. In 2025, city-sponsored programs recorded more than 21,000 summer camp registrations, served more than 205,000 meals, and reached tens of thousands of young people through afterschool programs, sports leagues, and outreach.

That is the important context. The curfew is not the whole plan. It is one tool in a much bigger toolbox, sitting somewhere between summer camps, violence prevention, police response, community nonprofits, parents, schools, and the eternal civic hope that teenagers will make one good decision before midnight.

The city is also dealing with a tricky set of numbers. Columbus has seen real progress on violent crime overall. Police officials said the city recorded 84 homicides in 2025, the lowest number in more than a decade. But youth involvement in serious violence remains a concern. CPD officials told council that nearly half of homicide and felonious assault suspects were 21 and under, and that young people made up 28% of homicide suspects and 32% of homicide victims in 2025.

That is why this debate is bigger than one church festival. It is about preventing the next chaotic crowd, yes, but it is also about keeping kids from becoming suspects, victims, or names in another grim city presentation.

Of course, curfews alone are not a miracle cure. Moving the line from midnight to 10 p.m. might help police manage large crowds earlier. It might give parents and officers a clearer standard. It might make certain public spaces easier to protect. But it will not create more teen jobs, more mentors, more transportation, more mental health support, or more places where young people can go without needing money, a car, or a fully developed frontal lobe.Scarlet Letter Trivia

That seems to be the balance Columbus is trying to strike. The city is not pretending that a curfew will fix everything. It is trying to respond to a real problem while still investing in the slower, less headline-friendly work of prevention.

Nobody wants a city where kids have nowhere to go, parents feel outmatched, police become the default babysitters, and neighborhood festivals need a line item for tear gas. Columbus is trying to avoid that future, the only way cities can: imperfectly, publicly, and with a mix of rules, resources, and hope that the next summer night goes better than the last one.

Which, honestly, is about all you can ask from a city in June: keep the kids safe, keep the festivals open, and maybe get through one weekend without needing 100 cruisers near the funnel cake stand.

Question: The Famous Shiller park is named after the German poet Friedrich Schiller. What was its previous name?
A. Marks Flatt
B. Stewarts Grove
C. Jacobs Creek
D. Little Dresden

Das Haus und Garten Tour

One of Columbus’s most beloved summer traditions returns this weekend with the German Village Society’s annual Haus und Garten Tour.

On Sunday, June 28, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., guests can stroll through German Village and explore featured homes and gardens that showcase the charm, history, and character of one of the city’s most treasured neighborhoods.

The tour is the German Village Society’s largest fundraiser, supporting the ongoing preservation and care of German Village’s historic homes, brick streets, gardens, and community spaces.

For an elevated experience, PreTour offers an exclusive early preview on Saturday, June 27, featuring a private tour, celebratory cocktail party, and the option to attend an intimate private dinner with fellow attendees and hosts.

Tickets for the Haus und Garten Tour are $25 per person, or $90 for a four-pack. It is a beautiful way to spend a summer Sunday, support historic preservation, and celebrate the homes, gardens, and people that make German Village so special.

Content Warning: This One Is Rough

We are not going to link to the video in this story, mostly because it is sad, gross, and not something anyone needs dropped into their inbox between local events and restaurant news. Just Google Chickens Logan County if you’re brave enough.

But the story itself is too strange, disturbing, and Ohio-specific not to talk about.

A video circulating out of Logan County appears to show hundreds of dead and live chickens being dumped at the Republic Services Landfill near Bellefontaine. In the footage, a truck unloads the birds into the landfill, and some of the chickens can be seen walking around afterward.

The Ohio Department of Agriculture is now investigating the procedures used to euthanize the chickens before they were transported and dumped. An ODA spokesperson said the agency has been in contact with industry representatives about the incident, specifically because not all of the birds were euthanized before transport and disposal. The agency has directed the people involved to be retrained on proper euthanasia, loading, and disposal procedures.

Which is a bureaucratic way of saying: the part where live chickens ended up walking around a landfill was not supposed to happen.

Republic Services, which owns the landfill, said the Bellefontaine facility received a shipment on Tuesday, June 16, that had been profiled as euthanized animal waste. The company said the landfill is permitted to accept that type of waste, but video from the shipment appeared to show a small number of live chickens. According to Republic, the birds died shortly after the video was filmed, and all remains were buried as part of normal landfill operations.

The company also said it has halted shipments from the customer involved until it can confirm there is a consistent process in place that meets landfill requirements.

Officials have said it is legal under Ohio law to dispose of properly euthanized, non-diseased poultry in an approved landfill. The Ohio Department of Agriculture has also said the birds were not diseased and were at the end of their lay cycle, which means they had reached the end of their productive life in the egg industry.

That may explain the industry process. It does not make the video easier to stomach.

Neighbors near the landfill have questioned whether the disposal was humane, and honestly, that seems like a very fair question when the public explanation involves the phrase “not all birds were euthanized prior to transport and disposal.”

The Logan County Sheriff’s Office said it contacted the Ohio Department of Agriculture after becoming aware of the video, but the sheriff’s office is not conducting the investigation. Local health officials have also said they do not have enforcement authority in this situation, and the Ohio EPA has indicated that no violations have been identified under its authority at this time.

So for now, the investigation sits with the state agriculture department, while the public waits for clearer answers about where the chickens came from, who was responsible for the transport, and how a process that is supposed to be regulated ended with live animals being dumped in a landfill.

It is a grim story. It is also a reminder that a lot of industrial food systems operate completely out of sight until something goes wrong, someone records it, and everyone suddenly has to confront the part of the process that usually stays hidden.

Hopefully, the investigation leads to more than a sternly worded retraining session. At a minimum, it should answer the basic question everyone is asking:

How did this happen, and how do we make sure it does not happen again?

B) Stewarts Grove