Who has America’s best-tasting water?

One of the old arguments against building a water pipeline from Louisville to Lexington now appears to be all wet. You know, the argument that went something like this: “We don’t want that nasty Ohio River water. You can’t even eat fish out of that river!”

The American Water Works Association, meeting this week in Atlanta, has declared that Louisville has the nation’s best-tasting water. The selection was made by a panel of judges that included a newspaper dining critic, a wine educator, a chemistry professor and the chair of the association’s “Taste and Color Committee.” Second place went to the Mal Paso Filtration Plant in Puerto Rico and third place went to Blythe, Ga.

Louisville Mayor Jerry Abramson celebrated today by passing out free bottles of tap water to people at Waterfront Park, and he credited the win to the fine work done by the folks at the Louisville Water Co.

So here’s the question: Does Louisville’s water taste better because the water company is publicly owned? Or did the years of fighting over condemnation of Kentucky American Water Co. in Lexington just leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth?

For sale: Hunter S. Thompson’s childhood home — bullet holes, Gates of Hell not included

The Realtor’s listing says it all: “Although the current children are perfectly normal - Hunter S. Thompson grew up here!”

That’s right, the Gonzo journalist’s childhood home in Louisville is for sale.

Thompson’s father, Jack, bought the two-story, stucco bungalow in the Cherokee Triangle for $4,100 in the winter of 1943. The asking price now for 2437 Ransdell Ave. is $435,000.

Thompson, who committed suicide in 2005 at age 67, is almost as famous for his wild drug- and alcohol-induced behavior as for his rambling, first-person narratives that became known as Gonzo Journalism. The Rolling Stone magazine correspondent and author of several books, including Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, is perhaps most famous locally for his classic 1970 magazine story, The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved.

“There are 40 million stories about Hunter in the neighborhood, and they all center around this house,” said Sandy Gulick of Kentucky Select Properties, the listing agent.

“Jim Thompson, nine years younger, remembered his older brother as a wild man who terrorized their house,” author William McKeen writes in Outlaw Journalist: The Life and Times of Hunter S. Thompson, which will be published in July by W.W. Norton.

McKeen said Jim Thompson told him about an elaborate tableau of the Gates of Hell that his brother painted on his bedroom floor. “He kept a rug over it, but required little prompting to reveal it to visitors,” McKeen writes.

Unfortunately - or, perhaps, fortunately - the Gates of Hell were sanded off the floor years ago, said McKeen, who heads the journalism school at the University of Florida.

The bullet holes also have been patched, said Hunter Thompson’s childhood friend, Gerald Tyrrell.

“I was in the house with him when he took his .22 rifle and, by mistake, put a bullet through the bedroom floor,” Tyrrell, 69, said in an interview Wednesday.

“The bullet went through the china cabinet downstairs and missed a plate by not much. There was a shard of wood in the corner of the cabinet that was just hanging. His mother and grandmother were out of the house at the time, so we glued it back and nobody ever noticed.”

Tyrrell said he has fond memories of the house: “We went to Hunter’s house every day after school, or all day if there wasn’t school. All of the neighborhood kids were there.”

Thompson amassed a large army of lead soldiers in the basement, which they used to wage epic battles in the in fortifications they dug in the backyard. His bedroom was filled with books - he was always a voracious reader - and lots of mementoes, including a flag he swiped from the nearby golf course, Tyrrell said.

When Tyrrell was in high school, his father made him stop hanging out with Thompson, who by then was frequently in trouble with the law for a wide assortment of petty crimes. After serving 30 days in jail on a robbery charge, Thompson left Louisville for the Air Force and returned only occasionally.

The 2,600-square-foot bungalow has been owned for 21 years by Rick McDonough, an editor with The Courier-Journal.

“An awful lot of people drive by and snap pictures,” McDonough said. After Thompson’s suicide, several people knocked on his door to express their grief, and somebody even left a filter-tip cigar and flowers on the sidewalk.

“It’s a curiosity,” he said. “But I don’t know that anyone’s willing to pay a premium for it.”

Kentucky Oaks: Rain doesn’t dampen the fun

What started out as a beautiful day for the 134th running of the Kentucky Oaks soon turned into the flood for the fillies.

The heavens opened four hours before post time Friday, and the track was beyond sloppy when Proud Spell, with Gabriel Saez up, sprinted to victory in the traditional scene-setter for the Kentucky Derby.

Not that anyone really seemed to mind the rain.

Earlier in the afternoon, Beth Taylor stood with friends near her seat not far from the finish line. She held down her hat to keep it from becoming airborne as the wind picked up and the skies grew darker.

“One of the military guys just showed me the Doppler radar, and it’s just awful,” she said.

Taylor, a Louisville native who lives most of the time in Shanghai, China, has been to 25 Derbys and about 20 Oaks.

Oaks Day has always been special for her - “The girls always have to come out for the girls” - and she has seen a lot of changes over the years.

“It used to be that the Oaks was the local day,” Taylor said. “But now all the out-of-towners have discovered it.”

Indeed, they have. Churchill Downs’ official attendance Friday was 100,046. While the Derby has long been the best-attended horse race in America, the Oaks regularly comes in second.

When the Churchill Downs gates opened Friday morning, the sun was shining. Spectators poured in, many of the women dressed to the nines. There were plenty of big hats, high heels, tight dresses and cleavage looking for a sunburn. By the end of the day, the hottest fashion accessory was poncho plastic.

If the Kentucky Derby risks being taken over by high rollers and celebrities, the Oaks is a little less crowded, a little less expensive, a little less crazy - but just as much fun.

“It’s awesome,” said Wanda Gilliam of Greensboro, N.C., who was attending her first Oaks-Derby weekend. “I haven’t won a thing yet, but that’s OK. This is just such an awesome scene. It’s overwhelming.”

Holly Brown, a Lexington attorney, agreed. She was here with friends, one of whom had managed to get them choice seats on the rail near the finish line. It was Brown’s Derby weekend in style. “We’ve been to the infield, but that doesn’t count,” she said.

Friends Amy Burkart, Victoria York and Kelli York came to the Oaks and Derby last year from their homes in California and Arizona, and had such a good time they had to come back.

“There’s something for everyone,” Burkart said. “For the men, it’s the racing; for the women, it’s the fashion. It’s just so much fun, especially after you’ve had a few of these mint juleps.”

Chris Cassidy and Jack Morgenstern, friends from Chillicothe, Ill., have been coming to both races on their way to a fishing trip in Tennessee every year since 1995. When the storms hit, they just put on ponchos, took shelter under the grandstand and continued studying their Daily Racing Forms.

“Look around,” Morgenstern said as people packed tighter and tighter to avoid the rain blowing under the grandstand and widening puddles. “See all the smiling faces despite the rain? It’s all good.”

The Oaks’ growing popularity also is good for the hundreds of locals who see Churchill Downs’ big weekend as a good payday - even if they never cash a ticket. Debbie Jones of Louisville has been selling wager tickets for several years, working both Oaks and Derby days for $375, plus tips.

It was a hot, tiring job, but nothing like the gig Joey Rayan of Lexington had.

Rayan spent Oaks Day walking around in a big plastic mint julep suit, promoting the Early Times version of the Downs’ signature drink while a sidekick passed out mint-colored Mardi Gras beads.

“I love it,” he said. “All the women want to come up and hug and kiss the suit.”

Photos, top to bottom:

Holly Brown, left, a Lexington lawyer, chats with friends Kristie Alfred, front, and Margaret Scherrer, both of Louisville.

Cherie Edwards of Louisville, left, and Angela Bumphus of Atlanta wore just the right fashions for Kentucky Oaks day — fancy dresses, fancy hats and ponchos.

Chris Cassidy, left, and Jack Morgenstern, two friends from Chillicothe, Ill., didn’t let the rain distract them from studying their Daily Racing Forms.

Vicki Maya of Louisville takes a photo of, left to right, Rosa Maya and Ruth Gonzalez of Louisville and Patty Duenas of Miami. Inside the mint julep suit is Joey Rayan of Lexington. Photos/Tom Eblen

Storms dampen picture-perfect Oaks Day

Hold onto your hats, ladies, a storm is blowing in. After a picture- perfect morning, the clouds started moving in about 1:15 p.m. It got darker, and windier, and darker still. Then a big rain hit Churchill Downs at 1:50 p.m. The weather radar shows more on the way. Post time for the Oaks is 5:45.

Well-dressed ladies with one hand holding a drink suddenly needed the other to keep their hat from going airborne. And when rain started falling, those with the expensive seats huddled with the masses underneath the grandstand for shelter.

But the rain didn’t seem to dampen spirits. “I haven’t won anything yet, but that’s OK,” said Wanda Gilliam of Greensboro, N.C., who was at her first Oaks. “It’s awesome. It’s overwhelming. I just can’t put it into words.”

Running for shelter. Photo/Tom Eblen

Belle loses race, but hopes to save rival Delta Queen

Belle of Louisville pilot Mike Fitzgerald, a retired captain of the boat, lines it up for the race’s start. At left in the background is the Belle of Cincinnati. At right, the Delta Queen. Photos/Tom Eblen

LOUISVILLE - When Mike Fitzgerald climbed up to the Belle of Louisville’s pilothouse for his 32nd Great Steamboat Race, he wanted two things - to beat the Delta Queen, and to see her survive to race again.

Fitzgerald knew he had a better chance of getting his first wish than his second.

The Belle had a 22-19 advantage over the Delta Queen in the annual race along the Ohio River, a highlight of Louisville’s Kentucky Derby Festival since 1963.

But after 40 years of exemptions from a federal safety law that prohibits boats with wooden superstructures from carrying passengers overnight, the Delta Queen seemed to have run out of luck.

Congress last week refused to grant another exemption. If Congress doesn’t change its mind by November, when the current exemption expires, the 82-year-old Delta Queen’s days of cruising up and down the Mississippi and Ohio rivers could be over.

“I don’t think there’s anywhere else you can see two national landmarks race and put on a show like this,” said Fitzgerald. “This is a great tradition.”

As it passes the downtown Louisville bridges, the Delta Queen starts gaining on the Belle of Louisville.

With a picture-perfect afternoon and full loads of passengers, the 94-year-old Belle and the Delta Queen lined up Wednesday to race along with the newer Belle of Cincinnati, which isn’t a true steamboat.

Louisville’s wharf has had steamboats since 1811, and six lines once plied the Ohio River from the city. Replaced by newer technology a century ago, they hang on in nostalgia, carrying passengers on pleasure cruises.

The steam calliopes on the Belle of Louisville and Delta Queen were playing while passengers boarded, but were almost drowned out by traffic from the interstate highway beside the wharf. Tractor-trailers, which long ago replaced the trains that had replaced the steamboats, sped by. Some even honked in honor of the floating anachronisms.

The Belle was the last one at the starting line below one of Louisville’s downtown bridges, but the fireman and engineer soon had its high-pressure steam turbines at full power. It rushed ahead of the other two boats. The swoosh, swoosh of the smokestack beat a steady rhythm on the roof, drowning out the partying passengers on the decks below.

Fitzgerald knew the best advantage he had was early speed. The Belle isn’t as powerful as the Delta Queen, but it’s smaller and quicker.

“We want to get a good start,” Fitzgerald said. “We take advantage of whatever we can.”

The Delta Queen, left, and Belle of Cincinnati, speed past the Belle of Louisville in the first leg of the race.

Originally named the Idlewilde, the Belle was built in 1914 to ferry passengers and freight from Memphis. It was renamed the Avalon and ran excursions from Louisville in the mid-1900s. It was headed for the scrap heap in 1962 when Jefferson County bought and restored it.

Fitzgerald grew up not far from the river and began working as a deckhand on the Belle the summer after he graduated from high school. He never left. By his 22nd birthday, Fitzgerald had put in enough time behind the wheel to earn his master’s license. He became captain at age 25 in 1983, becoming the youngest captain on the river, and held the job for 18 years before retiring.

So what does he do in retirement? He works as the boat’s carpenter, and he pilots whenever he can.

As the boats sped past downtown Louisville, Fitzgerald, Captain Mark Doty and the boat’s three other officers in the pilothouse started looking worried. The Delta Queen was steadily gaining on them. Then passing them. Then way out ahead of them.

“She’s doing as well as she can do,” Fitzgerald said out the pilothouse window as the Belle bucked a strong headwind to cruise at perhaps 10 mph. “Unfortunately, that boat’s doing a lot better.”

The Delta Queen was far ahead at the halfway point of the 14-mile race, an island where the boats were to turn around. But when Fitzgerald and Doty looked ahead, they saw a barge taking up their half of the river.

Faced with a perceived safety threat, the Belle’s officers followed an old steamboat racing tradition: They cheated.

“Everything’s fair in steamboat racing,” said retired pilot Charlie Decker, who came along for the ride.

So the Belle turned around, followed by the Belle of Cincinnati. The Delta Queen, far up the river, saw what was happening and made its turn. Suddenly, the tables were turned. But was it legal?

“It’s all up to the judges,” Fitzgerald said with a smile.

“It wasn’t the kind of race I wanted to run,” said Doty, the captain, “but we chose to do the safe thing and turn early.”

The safe thing is at the heart of the Delta Queen’s dilemma. Fans are urging Congress to grant another safety exemption. They’ve set up a Web site - www.savethedeltaqueen.com. And Louisville Mayor Jerry Abramson, a big steamboat fan, urged everyone to write their congressional representatives on the Delta Queen’s behalf.

The fear of those who oppose an exemption, though, is a tragic fire in the middle of the night in the middle of a river.

When he paid a visit to the pilothouse near the end of the race, Abramson wasn’t too optimistic. “Everybody I talk to says no,” he said. “But I’m still hopeful.”

Abramson said Derby week wouldn’t be the same without the steamboat race. And without the Delta Queen, there isn’t another true steamboat left that’s a fair match for the Belle.

“In 1985, when I ran for mayor, they asked why I was running, and I said so I could get two tickets to the steamboat race,” Abramson said. “It’s a nice piece of tradition.”

With the wind at its back, the Belle of Louisville maintained its lead, steaming back to downtown Louisville perhaps half a mile ahead of the Delta Queen. But would the judges accept that?

“That’s something we’ll have to take a look at,” said Col. Ray Midkiff of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, the judge aboard the Belle.

But when all of the judges conferred later, they decided to give the victor’s trophy - a huge set of gold-painted elk antlers - to the Delta Queen.

Everyone seemed satisfied with the verdict. They thought the Delta Queen deserved a break. They just hope Congress will give it a break, too.

Louisville Mayor Jerry Abramson, left, and visits the Belle’s roof and pilot house toward the end of the race. At right is pilot Mike Fitzgerald.

Above photo: After an early turn, the Belle steams home ahead, followed by the Belle of Cincinnati and the Delta Queen in back.