Ohio has a lot of official things. We have a state bird, a state flower, a state rock song, and now, potentially, a state cryptid.
House Bill 821 would officially designate the Loveland Frog as Ohio’s state cryptid, elevating the amphibious legend from local folklore to government-recognized mystery creature.
Yes, that is a real sentence.
The bill was introduced by Representatives Jean Schmidt and Tristan Rader, and it describes the Frogman as a “legendary and beloved amphibious creature” reportedly first spotted in the 1950s near the Little Miami River. Depending on who is telling the story, it is anywhere from three to four feet tall, walks on two legs, and looks like what happens when a frog decides to have a very complicated day.
“This bill is about showcasing our communities,” said Rep. Rader. “The Loveland Frog is uniquely Ohio. It reflects the stories we tell, the places we’re proud of, and the creativity that makes our state worth celebrating.”
The legislation also notes something important: this thing has economic impact. There are festivals, artwork, merchandise, and tourism tied to the Frogman myth. In other words, even if you do not believe in cryptids, you can still buy a T-shirt about them.
Supporters of the bill say that makes it worth recognizing. Critics might reasonably ask how we ended up in a timeline where “state cryptid” is a job legislators are actively working on.
Either way, Ohio is not new to this conversation.
If you have spent any time in the woods, near water, or scrolling internet forums at 2 a.m., you already know the state has a long and very unofficial resume of mysterious creatures. The Loveland Frog is just the latest entrant in a crowded field that includes everything from swamp monsters to flying humanoids.
Ohio’s cryptid roster is probably more expansive than you’re expecting.
There is Bigfoot, who technically refuses to be tied down to any one state but keeps showing up here anyway. There is the Lake Erie Monster, known as Bessie, who has been allegedly swimming around for centuries. There are the Grassman, the Minerva Monster, and something called Orange Eyes, which honestly sounds like it should come with a warning label.
If you want a full tour of the chaos, there is already a deep dive into Ohio’s most bizarre cryptids and monsters that covers everything from frog-like humanoids to lake-dwelling legends and things that may or may not have kidnapped teenagers in the 1940s. You can read that here: The 11 Most Bizarre Cryptids And Monsters From Ohio.
So in some ways, this bill is less about introducing something new and more about formalizing what Ohio has already been doing for years: telling strange stories about creatures in the woods and then arguing about them like they are part of civic infrastructure.
For now, House Bill 821 has only been introduced and has not yet received hearings. But even at this early stage, it has already accomplished something rare in state politics: it got people to stop doom-scrolling for a minute and ask, “Wait… are we really doing this?”
Yes. Apparently, we are. And in Ohio, that might be the most normal thing on the agenda.
Featured image via Wikimedia Commons.
