In 1850 Bishop Amadeus Rappe traveled to Boulogne-sur-Mer, France, to seek aid from his former colleagues for the Cleveland Diocese. He invited the Ursuline nuns to come to Cleveland to initiate efforts to provide education within the diocese. In August 1850, four sisters traveled to Cleveland and assumed residence in the Samuel Cowles House secured by the Bishop near East Fourth Street and Euclid Avenue. By September, a space was opened to board girls and provide a day school. During the ensuing years, the school expanded in enrollment and the nuns required more space to accommodate growth. The Ursulines began staffing parish day schools by 1853 and also ventured to Youngstown, Toledo, and Tiffin, Ohio, creating the parochial school system as the community grew in size. Commercial Cleveland was growing and surrounding the school.

By 1874, reacting to Mother Mary's observations concerning the shrinking downtown facility, Bishop Gilmour determined the conditions on Euclid and Fourth could no longer adequately serve the students, staff, and program. He urged the Sisters to purchase property on the lakeshore in the village of Nottingham, just east of Collamer Village. Thirty-seven acres of property bounded by Euclid Creek to the east was owned by George Gilbert and was for sale. The Bishop originally sought the land as a site for a diocesan seminary but thought again to urge the nuns to consider the property. They toured the beautiful property, buried religious medals at the site, and prayed for a favorable acquisition of the land. Mr. Gilbert met the offer tendered by the Sisters and completed the sale in June 1874. They named the grounds Villa Angela in honor of their foundress Saint Angela Merici. The Ursulines used the next three years to build a residence and a school for girls called St. Mary School and began classes in September 1878 for boarding and day school enrollees.

At the urging of Cleveland’s bishop, the Ursulines opened a school for boys in 1886 on the grounds at Villa Angela. St. Joseph Seminary grew in service to young boys in grades one to eight. In 1892 a new larger building was built to accommodate the boys at St. Joseph; it remained in service until 1946 when a fire destroyed the facility. Interestingly, within five years, the Marionists, a Catholic order of priests and brothers, would open Saint Joseph High School about a mile east of the Villa Angela property on the Lake Erie shore.

Meanwhile, St. Mary remained a popular residence and day school for girls staffed and managed by the Ursulines. The property housed the schools, a convent for the nuns and open orchard property. In 1906 the Humphrey Company (owners of next door neighbor Euclid Beach) bought 11 acres of Villa Angela property. The real estate proved most profitable and provided ongoing financial support for the Ursuline educational efforts in the community. The historical records show St Mary School was renamed Villa Angela Academy in August, 1941 as it transitioned to a four year high school which served girls until its merger in 1990 with St. Joseph High School. Villa Angela - St. Joseph High School serves coeducational classes on the lake shore at East 185th Street.

The original Villa Angela property is currently owned by the City of Cleveland and is the home of the Memorial-Nottingham Branch of the Cleveland Public Library. The surrounding grounds make up part of the system of lakeshore parks on Cleveland’s east and west sides. Villa Angela Beach adjoins Euclid Beach Park and Wildwood Park to provide scenic overlooks, a fishing pier, a sandy beach and boat launch access to Lake Erie.

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On August 4, 1946, almost one year after the dropping of atomic bombs on Japan and the end of World War ll, a picket line appeared in front of Cleveland's Euclid Beach amusement park for the first time in its history. Protesting the park's long-standing policy of excluding African Americans from using the park's roller rink, swimming facilities, and dance hall, an interracial crowd of over 100 picketers, including many uniformed World War ll veterans, held signs reading, "We Went to Normandy Beach Together — Why Not Euclid Beach?" Others compared the park's owner with the recently defeated leader of Nazi Germany: "Hitler and Humphrey believe in super race."

In the weeks that followed, protests continued and violence broke out. On August 23, Albert Luster, a member of the interracial civil rights group the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), was severely beaten by Euclid Beach Park policemen. Luster had planned to join an interracial group of ten or so CORE members who, like other groups that summer, sought to test the park's policies by attempting to enter the dance hall together. But he had arrived late to the park; the group had already been roughly ejected from the park by the time he showed up. Park policeman Julius Vago found Luster sitting by himself on a park bench and set upon him with his nightstick in an apparently unprovoked attack.

Then, on September 21, two black Cleveland police officers scuffled with members of the Euclid Beach Park Police, and Patrolman Lynn Coleman ended up with a bullet in his leg. Coleman and Henry Mackey, off duty at the time, observed an interracial group of CORE members being treated roughly by park policemen as they tried to enter the dance floor. When the two Cleveland Police officers attempted to intervene, a fight ensued and Coleman's gun went off, hitting him in the leg. Other Cleveland Police officers detailed to the park soon intervened. Coleman was taken to the hospital, while the Euclid Beach Police officers involved in the fight, after undergoing questioning at Central Police Station, were released, the Cleveland Police Department opting not to pursue charges against them. The events that night came to be known as the Euclid Beach Park Riot.

Discussions soon began in Cleveland City Council that would result in the passage, the following February, of an ordinance that explicitly outlawed discrimination at Cleveland's amusement parks. Racial segregation at Euclid Beach seemed to be coming to an end. However, before the start of the 1947 season Euclid Beach leased its roller rink and dance hall to private clubs not bound by the amusement park ordinance. The bathing facilities in the park closed for good in 1951 after only a few summers of interracial swimming.

It is no coincidence that the 45-year policy of segregation at Euclid Beach met its most serious challenge in 1946, a year after the end of World War ll. The war heightened the likelihood of racial confrontations as black and white Clevelanders attempted to define what it would mean for race relations in the city. After the war ended, many white Clevelanders looked nostalgically to the years before the Great Depression and the war, and hoped to return to what they considered to be normalcy and stability after so many years of disorder. For many white Clevelanders, that meant returning to a racially divided community. Black Clevelanders, on the other hand, had been emboldened by their participation in the war effort — both at home and abroad — and anti-Nazi rhetoric seemed to discredit racist ideologies at home. They sought to solidify gains made during the war and stake a claim to full racial equality in the postwar city. These differing visions of postwar Cleveland collided at Euclid Beach in 1946.

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The Euclid Beach rocket car is hard to miss. You might hear it coming first: the band organ music blaring from its speakers or the delighted shrieks coming from its passengers. Then you'll see it, the biggest thing on the road: a shining silver steel body shaped, improbably, like a rocket ship. The nose cone, the tail - it's all there, along with the waving hands and smiling faces of the 20 or so people seated inside its bright red interior. You might ask: What is it? Where did it come from? How is it allowed to be on the road? Inevitably, however, you'll want to know how you, too, can go for a ride in the rocket car.

The rocket car seen on the streets of Northeast Ohio (and, during the winter months, in Florida) has its origins at Euclid Beach amusement park. The rocket ships ride opened there in the 1930s. Its three rocket ships, suspended from cables, would be lifted off the ground and fly in a circle at high speeds. The ride remained popular until the park closed in 1969. After the park closed, the ride was taken apart and the three ships were sold. They languished in warehouses around the city for the next few decades. One even ended up in its owner's backyard Christmas display, while another was abandoned in an Eastlake warehouse. In the late 1990s, two different owners got a hold of the three ships and converted them into street legal automobiles. And 'rocket car' is not a misnomer: one was clocked at 136 MPH! All three can now be rented out for special occasions, and pop up at events all over the city.

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Tens of thousands of people lining the shore of Lake Erie to watch a plane go by. While the idea seems ludicrous today, this is exactly what happened on August 31, 1910, when pioneering aviator Glenn Curtiss took off from Euclid Beach Park and headed west towards Cedar Point amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio. His 60-mile trip took him one hour and eighteen minutes to complete, and set a world record for distance flown over water.

A crowd of 18,000 flocked to Euclid Beach to see his plane take off, and all across Cleveland, people left their workplaces and headed outdoors to catch a glimpse of the 'birdman.' The scene was repeated the following day when Curtiss made his successful return trip from Cedar Point to Euclid Beach. For his efforts, Curtiss won a $5,000 prize, as well as the adoration of an entire city. Speaking at Euclid Beach before his flight, Curtiss looked towards the future, stating, "Within two years I expect to see aeroplanes which will carry at least ten passengers, being used as a means of transportation." Indeed, following his success in Cleveland, Curtiss continued to be a pioneer in the field of aviation, founding the Curtiss Aeroplane and Motor Company (now part of the Curtiss-Wright Corporation) and working with the United States military to develop planes for use in battle.

Meanwhile, Cleveland's fascination with airplanes would continue in the years following Curtiss's flight. In 1911, 30,000 Clevelanders converged on Euclid Beach to watch another aviation pioneer, Harry Atwood, land his biplane during a twelve-day trip from St. Louis to New York that set a new distance record. Cleveland soon became a key locale in the aviation industry. In 1918, the city landed a spot on the first government airmail route. That same year, Glenn L. Martin opened a factory on St. Clair Avenue that produced the Martin MB bomber for the military. A number of companies that produced airplane parts sprung up in Cleveland in the 1920s and 1930s, as well. And the spectacle of Curtiss's flight would be reproduced on a much larger scale beginning in 1929, when Cleveland played host to the National Air Races for the first of many times.

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Laughing Sal evokes a number of different reactions from those who encounter her. Her larger than life presence, mechanical gyrations, and raucous cackle cause delight in some and fear in others. Some deep thinkers have even speculated about the meaning of Laughing Sal. Is she the incarnation of modern wo(man) in an industrial age? A soulless, machine-powered being with an empty laugh and an empty mind?

Love her or hate her, there is no doubting the fact that Sal creates a lasting impression on all who lay eyes on her. She debuted at Euclid Beach amusement park in the 1930s, placed in a glass case at the entrance to the Surprise House, a traditional fun house with moving floors, slanted rooms, and distorting mirrors. That is where she stayed until 1969, when Euclid Beach closed. A Euclid Beach enthusiast purchased Sal in the years following the closing, and she has since appeared at events across Northeast Ohio, becoming a prominent symbol of the park. Now those too young to have visited Euclid Beach themselves can be amused or terrified, delighted or repulsed, by Laughing Sal.

Laughing Sal, however, was not unique to Euclid Beach Park and Cleveland. In fact, in the 1930s the Philadelphia Toboggan Company (PTC) mass-produced Laughing Sals (as well as 'Laughing Sams') and sold them to amusement parks across the United States. The Old King Cole Papier Mache Company of Canton, Ohio got the contract from PTC to actually build the Sals, tweaking their laughing, papier mache Santa Claus model for the job. Sal's gyrations were created by two rotating cams (or discs) attached to a single motor in her hips. Springs in her arms, head, and chest provided even more movement. Sal's famous laugh emanated from a repeating record player hidden in the base of the figure. The combined effect of Sal's evocative appearance, constant motion, and endless laughter proved to be a hit with amusement park goers, and Laughing Sals became a fixture in fun houses during the 1930s. It appears that no more Sals were built by PTC and Old King Cole after the production of amusement park equipment temporarily ceased during World War II, however.

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Not much remains of Euclid Beach amusement park at its former location in Cleveland's Collinwood neighborhood. Sure, nostalgia seekers know that Laughing Sal often makes appearances at local events, the rocket cars are regularly seen driving around town, and Humphrey popcorn balls and candy kisses can be found in nearly every area supermarket, but the actual location of their childhood memories is merely a shell of its former self. Parts of the concrete pier remain, but are crumbling. A tree-lined walkway still overlooks Lake Erie, but the water is polluted, and the beaches are often covered in driftwood and garbage. High-rise apartment buildings and their expansive parking lots fill much of the rest of the old park space. One thing has not changed, however: the Euclid Beach arch still stands in all its grandeur at the park's old entrance on Lakeshore Boulevard, a solitary reminder of the nearly 70 years of fun that took place there.

The Euclid Beach arch was built in the 1920s. Before then, a shorter, more modest arch welcomed patrons to the park. In a way, the wide-open, welcoming look of the arch is symbolic of the kind of amusement park the Humphrey family created when they took over Euclid Beach in 1901. In contrast to many other parks at the time, the Humphrey's instituted a 'free gate' system. It cost nothing to enter Euclid Beach; patrons could spend as little or as much as they wanted on rides and concessions. In contrast, the original operators of Euclid Beach charged an entry fee, and also erected high, opaque walls that blocked views of the rowdy activities taking place inside - drinking, gambling, freak shows, and the like. The Humphrey's Euclid Beach, on the other hand, would be a family-friendly place where the rich and poor alike could enjoy good, clean fun.

After Euclid Beach Park closed in 1969, the arch elicited mixed emotions of nostalgia and loss from those passing by on Lakeshore Boulevard, where it became an oddity in a sea of strip malls, high-rise apartments, and beaches unfit for swimming. Nonetheless, the arch remains in place as an official City of Cleveland Landmark. It even survived being hit by a car in 2007, and was subsequently renovated and reinforced. In 2022, plans were announced for a complete restoration and relocation of the arch further into Cleveland Metroparks' lakeside space to add to the park's appeal and ensure that even those who never visited Euclid Beach Park themselves can have their own sense of arrival in a place that generations of Clevelanders enjoyed.

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More than forty years after its last ride in Cleveland, the Euclid Beach carousel returned to operation once again in its home city, a testament to both the hard work of a number of non-profit organizations and Cleveland's enduring love for all things Euclid Beach.

When Euclid Beach Park closed in 1969, the carousel was sold to Palace Playland, an amusement park in Old Orchard Beach, Maine. Palace Playland itself closed in 1996, and the carousel went up for auction. This put the carousel in danger of being broken up, horse by horse, to a number of different bidders. However, the Trust for Public Land, a national conservation organization, provided an emergency loan to Cleveland Tomorrow (now a part of the Greater Cleveland Partnership) in an effort to bring the carousel back to Cleveland intact. The auction took place in July 1997 in Olmsted Township during a Euclid Beach memorabilia show. In a dramatic scene, the bidder from the Trust for Public Land secured the entire carousel — all 54 horses along with two chariots — with a final bid of $715,000. When the auctioneer hollered "sold," onlookers erupted in cheers. The carousel was coming back to Cleveland.

Once the carousel was purchased, however, it quickly became clear that funds were lacking to put it back into operation. In 1999, Cleveland Tomorrow gifted the horses to the Western Reserve Historical Society (WRHS). They sat in storage for a number of years, periodically being displayed around Northeast Ohio. A 2003 plan to return the carousel to the site of the old Euclid Beach amusement park fell through. Some doubted whether the carousel would ever actually be operated again. In 2010, Euclid Beach Park Now and the Euclid Beach Park Carousel Society, two non-profit organizations dedicated to preserving the history of Euclid Beach, collaborated with WRHS on a plan to place the carousel on the front lawn of the historical society's University Circle museum. A multi-million-dollar fundraising effort was launched to restore the carousel's mechanics and build a glassed-in pavilion to house the ride. The fundraising campaign was successful, and the carousel opened in November 2014.

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Imagine a century-old northeast Ohio company that's literally "up to its ears" in ears – popcorn, that is. While the Humphrey family name naturally evokes vivid memories of Cleveland's bygone days at Public Square and Euclid Beach Park, a piece of that legacy lives on at The Humphrey Company in Warrensville Heights, where Humphrey popcorn and taffy are still being made today.

From growing their own popping corn on their farm in Wakeman, Ohio, right down to the ingredients and vintage equipment, Dudley Humphrey Jr., his wife Betsy and a handful of dedicated employees are keeping the taste and smells of the old Euclid Beach Park alive and continuing a fourth-generation family business.

Dudley's grandfather, Dudley Sherman Humphrey II was in the popcorn business in the late 1800s. He and his father, Dudley Sherman Humphrey I had invented a new type of popcorn popper, which seasoned the corn as it popped. They sold the machines themselves until sometime in the 1880s or early 1890s, when they got into the retail popcorn business. Beginning in June 1893, the family opened popcorn stands throughout Cleveland, including one in the corner of May's Drug Store on the heavily trafficked Public Square.

During this time, Euclid Beach was just starting out, and Humphrey II had a popcorn stand there. In 1901, he bought out the original owners and changed the park's image by creating a family-friendly atmosphere that made Euclid Beach a success until it closed in 1969. Among the park's top concessions were Humphrey popcorn balls and their signature candy kisses.

After Euclid Beach closed, the Humphreys refocused on popcorn. The family had been growing its own supply of corn for popping on its Wakeman farm, which they had repurchased in the 1920s. Today, the 500 acre farm is capable of providing a year's supply to the Humphrey Company, much to the delight of munchie lovers, young and old.

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In 1901, Dudley S. Humphrey became the owner of Euclid Beach amusement park, vowing to make the park a respectable, family friendly place for recreation. He had previously run a popcorn stand at the park, though the prevalence of alcohol, freak shows, and gambling under the old ownership did not mesh with his Protestant values. Humphrey's new Euclid Beach, where everything was guaranteed to be "of a highly moral and elevating character," instantly became a success. The park no longer had an admission fee, so one could enjoy a day at the park for little or no money. Streetcar companies introduced single fare service to the park, making getting there cheap and convenient too. Euclid Beach Park proudly touted these new, improved features with the motto: 'One Fare – Free Gate – No Beer.'

Occupying 90 acres of lakeshore property near the Collinwood-Euclid township border, the park grew rapidly under the Humphrey family management to add unique food options, attractions, amusements, and recreational resources for Cleveland’s growing population during the first half of the 20th century. A park railway connected beach and fishing facilities with a dancehall, theatre, and roller skating rink. A Ferris wheel, merry-go-rounds, and a funhouse were among the 157 "spaces and structures" on the park’s map. Rocket cars, roller coasters of all sizes, flying scooters, and "dodgem" cars attracted visitors of all ages as well as the park's arcade. Hundreds of local company and organization picnics filled the Euclid Beach schedule every season. Concerts and political rallies also marked the calendar. All tolled, millions of visitors enjoyed Euclid Beach during the 69 Humphrey management years with some event crowds rivaling the local pro sports gatherings of 85,000 plus.

The Humphrey's vision of Euclid Beach Park, sadly, also involved the strict regulation of African American visitors, who were admitted to the park but prevented from using all of its facilities. These practices culminated in a series of protests and violent incidents during the summer of 1946, prompting the mayor to order the park closed a month early. From that point on, the park's dancehall – whose racial policies had been the target of many of the protests – remained closed to the public. Nevertheless, Euclid Beach remained popular in the years after World War II but ultimately closed in 1969.

Although it has been closed since 1969, Euclid Beach lives on throughout Northeast Ohio in a number of ways. Cleveland Metroparks assumed management of Cleveland’s lakefront parks in 2013. A visit to Wildwood Park, which occupies the site of Euclid Beach amusements and the lakeside beach, now accommodates visitors, boaters, and swimmers in a park setting. In addition, even those too young to have visited the park themselves can still take a ride on the rocket car, crunch into an authentic Humphrey popcorn ball, hear the quavering cackle of Laughing Sal, and enjoy the park's 1910 carousel, lovingly restored after being rescued from a shuttered amusement park in Maine, in its new location at the Western Reserve Historical Society in University Circle.

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