BY KRISTA RAMSEY
The Cincinnati Enquirer

We will never know her name, but there's something about her final bequest that we will never forget.

A Reading resident who died earlier this year - a spirited 83-year-old woman who chose to remain anonymous - left $7,500 to the city for, of all things, a bigger, brighter, noisier Fourth of July fireworks display.

July 4 was her birthday, and she ''wanted to give a greeting and a gift to the city to celebrate it,'' says attorney Joni Wilkens, executor of her estate.

Initially, we're struck by the quirkiness of her request. The longer we reflect, the more we're touched by its generosity.

With most bequests, benefactors at least get a plaque with their name on it or a scholarship fund in their honor. This woman's gift, however, will simply go up in smoke in an evening.

But oh, what magic it will make for saucer-eyed children and their parents for the 40 minutes it lights up the sky.

The contribution - from a woman who lived modestly - was anything but frivolous. Rarely is money left so wisely. Typically, about 2,500 people view the Reading fireworks display. How many of us ever find a way to delight so many people so thoroughly at one time, and have the grace to do it anonymously?

It is a singular and lovely gift, marked by the unselfishness of street-side gardens and Christmas light displays - things done for your neighbors, not for yourself.

Let's hope she has a front-row seat up above, and enjoys every last ember.

Legendary bequests

Although it is an area upon which few of us dwell, probate matters have always been the stuff of great color and legend. Attorneys will tell you that some bequests are valiant, some perfunctory, and others downright and creatively spiteful.

We reveal ourselves in small ways in life, but never more so than in what we give when we depart.

Jacob Hermann, who was admitted to the Cincinnati bar in 1905, used his will to promote legal camaraderie. In 1970, Mr. Hermann left the Cincinnati Bar Association $2,000 so that ''there shall be distributed to each member and guest attending annual meetings a cigar or cigarettes or, at its discretion, a boutonniere to the men and a flower to the women.''

The request was strictly followed for many years, then applied to small gifts at the Senior Counselors Luncheon. Now, with cigars returning to drawing-room favor, bar association Executive Director John Norwine says members ''may get a little surprise'' at their May 8 meeting. One hopes they will puff away contentedly, with kind thoughts of Mr. Hermann.

Equally thoughtful, if not as charming, is the bequest of Clara Poole, who left half her estate to Cincinnati for the control of rats since it had done such a fine job of exterminating those rodents from her neighborhood.

Breadth of charity

And then there are the bequests that humble and inspire us - the unmarried Clifton resident who worked at a clerical job at a utility company, lived frugally and put up with a noisy Ludlow Avenue apartment, then left $150,000 to the Archbishop Leibold Home for the Aged.

Or Cleo Hosbrook, who lived down the street from the Madeira fire station, and bequeathed $130,000 to the Madeira and Indian Hill fire company. She wanted it to go for things that fire departments often can't afford - extra training in emergency medicine, public education programs, special equipment. A retired teacher, she donated her money in a way that would not garner great attention, but would further the public good.

And then, of course, there are the other bequests. David Pfeiffer, a probate court magistrate, has seen them all.

''The most famous was the Lady on Ice,'' he remembers. The woman left her multimillion-dollar estate to build a mausoleum to herself. The only problem: The IRS wouldn't allow that much for a tax-exempt burial provision.

''She remained on ice in the coroner's office for quite a long time until her attorney reached a compromise with the IRS,'' Mr. Pfeiffer says.

So much better to go out with largesse and community-mindedness - and a sky full of careening rockets.

Krista Ramsey's column appears in The Enquirer on Saturdays. Write her at 312 Elm St., Cincinnati 45202 or fax at 768-8340.

RAMSEY ARCHIVE