The Legend of the Loveland Frogman

The Loveland Frogman has always felt more frog than man. The few times he has tried to make his presence known to the larger suburban Cincinnati community, it has ended with fear and apprehension. When he first attempted to make contact with humanity in 1955, late at night along the Branch Hill Bridge over the Little Miami River, a businessman passing by mistook him for a monstrosity and almost ran his car off of the bridge from fright. Frogman, not wanting to scare the humans, jumped off of the bridge and hid in the river. Luckily, frogs are amphibious and can survive long spells underwater. 

The second time Frogman tried to reach out to humans was in 1972, after a long loneliness and rare public sightings. A Loveland police officer mistook him for a freak or monster and ran away screaming. Though he later told his friends that he scared the “monster” off. Frogman knew the truth. 

Frogman tended to avoid humans after that.

He hid out in the woods and wilderness south of Loveland, near where the Boy Scouts had established a summer camp. There, he could pilfer the odd snack from the dining hall, listen to songs sung around the campfire, swim in Lake Marge Schott or leisurely float down the Little Miami River. 

Until one night in 2020, when strange lights dotted the sky above camp and a metal disc made its way down to the lake. It bore others similar to him – they were not frogs, but they were small and green. They took him up in their saucer, and Frogman hoped he could find a new home among the visitors with whom he bore more resemblance than the hairy mammals of Loveland.

Frogman lived among the visitors for years, with their advanced technology and alien society, but he found it was a new kind of loneliness. They did not exhibit the same virtues he saw among the campers of Friedlander: their trustworthiness, loyalty, friendliness and bravery. And he missed the biscuits and gravy from the dining hall.

With the blessing of the alien visitors, Frogman borrowed a flying saucer. He was a little nervous – he never got his flying saucer license – but he set off to return to the familiar confines of Camp Friedlander. His inexperience led him to crash down in a copse of trees near camp in 2024. Feeling guilty for wrecking a perfectly good flying saucer, Frogman hopes now to learn from the Scouts skills he can use to repair the craft and return it to its rightful owners.

And now, for camp 2025, the Frogman returns. Observing. Waiting. Learning. Will you spot signs of his presence?