How was one Cincinnati neighborhood transformed from being the most dangerous in the country to one of the coolest? And how did Cincinnati’s business community lead this recovery?

All that Glitters is not Gold. For cities struggling with reimaging their distressed neighborhoods, the reincarnation of Cincinnati’s Over-the-Rhine (OTR) community offers a tempting but complex playbook. It’s worth exploring how OTR’s incredible economic success was driven by Cincinnati’s business community, but also why the city continues to struggle with the gentrification that came with this success. For communities engaging in transformative efforts, OTR’s journey shows how difficult it is to ensure two worlds coexist. Inclusion and equity are as critical to the economic future of cities as glistening developments. The Cincinnati business community did something incredible, for which they’re understandably proud. The question isn’t whether other communities building on this playbook can succeed; it’s whether there’s a way such success doesn’t beggar their soul. This isn’t simply a moral question; as research is showing, it’s an economic one.

Besting Compton. After decades of neglect, failed housing and reinvestment efforts, and an exodus of those who could, in 2009 Cincinnati’s Over-the-Rhine (OTR) community hit bottom, garnering the nation’s most dangerous neighborhood mantle, stealing it away from the perennial winner, L.A.’s Compton. Over-the-Rhine is a 19^th century architectural marvel, built, as the name suggests, by generations of German expats, followed by Appalachians and more recently African Americans. As other areas of Cincinnati thrived, OTR was ignored, that is until Timothy Thomas, an unarmed black man, was killed by a white police officer in 2001. The city that April was literally ablaze. Only then did a charred OTR come into focus.

Government Can’t Fix It. OTR lies just north of Cincinnati’s central business district, where a number of Fortune 500 companies are headquartered; two worlds divided by a parkway. After the riots, then Mayor Charlie Luken, as recounted in a Politico column, explained the business community’s mood as smoke rose next to their downtown towers. “’Will the last person turn out the lights?’ But out of desperation comes innovation.” Luken did something quite unusual. He asked Proctor & Gamble’s CEO to assemble the city’s corporate leaders. Luken then charged these leaders to develop a strategy to salvage OTR. In exchange, as explained in Politico’s excellent piece, the business leadership required three commitments: from the politicians, a long-term engagement to support change; from the broader business community, that varying and conflicting agendas be set aside; and from everyone, the creation of a nonprofit singularly focused on funding and leading the redevelopment, unencumbered by public sector and community dynamics.

A Unified Vision. With leadership from these CEOs, a nonprofit, commonly known as 3CDC, was formed. They also recognized the need for a strong, capable leader, and stole from Pittsburgh, Steve Leeper, who had been instrumental in the Steel City’s waterfront redevelopment. Leeper, over the course of the ensuing decade, according to Politico, guided nearly $500,000,000 of investment into OTR, functioning as the neighborhood’s developer-in-chief. What’s critical to understand is that Over-the-Rhine has never been prime real estate; it’s separated from the business district and removed from the waterfront. OTR had devolved from being one of the country’s densest immigrant communities to an urban wasteland. And now it’s reincarnated as a boutique lined community with million dollar townhomes.

Leadership. Cincinnati, like many cities, has a number of business organizations with their own share of overlapping and ambiguous missions. As the smoke was disappearing across Central Parkway in April of 2001, the decision that Mayor Luken made with A.G. Lafley, Proctor & Gamble’s then CEO and Chairman, was that no existing business organization was up to the challenge. The business community stood up the new organization, independent of city government, and hired a proven visionary as its CEO, tasking him with profoundly re-envisioning OTR and executing that vision. As a result of the business community’s commitment and Leeper’s leadership, OTR now ranks among the “coolest neighborhoods” in North America, a long way from besting Compton a decade before as one of the country’s most dangerous. OTR’s success hasn’t been without its detractors. In an excellent article in Cincinnati Magazine, a complex relationship surfaces between the business community’s 3CDC and neighborhood survivors.

Cincinnati continues to struggle with the asymmetry caused by OTR’s redevelopment and gentrification. The Cincinnati Magazine columnist describes it as “an uneasy overlay of cultures,” as if its residents coexist in two worlds. Don’t get me wrong. What Cincinnati’s business community was able to achieve in OTR is nothing short of amazing. The city is understandably proud of this success. OTR underscores that cities are organic, evolving creatures. Our understanding of how important cities are to regional economies and of how fragile their ecosystems are evolving as well. As communities like Baltimore learn from experiences like Cincinnati’s OTR, we also have the opportunity to think past the asymmetry created by redevelopment, to explore what kind of future we are envisioning and for whom. Cincinnati’s OTR neighborhood has more to teach us about coexistence, which I’ll share in my next column.

With more than 30 years’ experience in law and business, Newt Fowler, a partner in Womble Bond Dickinson’s business practice, advises many investors, entrepreneurs and technology companies, guiding them through all aspects of business planning, financing transactions, technology commercialization and M&A. He’s the past board chair of TEDCO and serves on the Board of the Economic Alliance of Greater Baltimore. Newt can be reached at newt.fowler@wbd-us.com.