One Unitarian preacher prefaces his opposition to the invasion of Iraq by insisting that meaningful religion is a process of "ongoing revelation." He pits this essential "liberal" tenet against the closed-canon biblicism of "the Fundamentalists who find in their Holy Book the blueprints for war, who discover in the prejudices of ancient peoples the legitimization of oppression today," and concludes by invoking Ralph Waldo Emerson as his authority on the necessity of continuing revelation. Elsewhere, a conservative evangelical Christian observes the Episcopalian convention that nearly dissolved over the ordination of a homosexual bishop and is disgusted by the "ease with which ... clergy and laity speak of an open canon." We must be, he sarcastically suggests, "all Latter-day Saints now." Why did these two men revert to religious innovations of the antebellum era - Transcendentalism in one case, Mormonism in the other - to frame their understanding of contemporary religious struggles? David Holland argues that the generation from which Emerson and Mormonism emerged might be considered the United States' revelatory moment. From Shakers to Hicksite Quakers, from the obscure African American prophetess Rebecca Jackson to the celebrated theologian Horace Bushnell, people throughout antebellum Americans advocated the idea of an open canon. Holland tells their stories and considers their place within the main currents of American thought. He shows that in the antebellum era, the notion of an open canon appeared to many to be a timely idea, and that this period marked the beginning of a distinctive and persistent engagement with the possibility of continuing revelation. This idea would attain deep significance in the intellectual history of the United States. Sacred Borders deftly analyzes the positions of the most prominent advocates of continuing revelation, and engages the essential issues to which the concept of an open canon was inextricably bound. Holland offers a new perspective of the matter of cultural authority in a democratized society, the tension between subjective truths and communal standards, a rising historical consciousness, the expansion of print capitalism, and the principle of religious freedom.

Explore the haunted history of Salem, Massachusetts.

Discover a wide range of fascinating and bizarre tales from Wilmington and the surrounding region of North Carolina.

Explore the history of brewing and beer culture in Louisville, Kentucky.

The role of chance changed in the nineteenth century, and American literature changed with it. Long dismissed as a nominal concept, chance was increasingly treated as a natural force to be managed but never mastered. New theories of chance sparked religious and philosophical controversies while revolutionizing the sciences as probabilistic methods spread from mathematics, economics, and sociology to physics and evolutionary biology. Chance also became more visible in everyday life as Americans struggled to control its power through weather forecasting, insurance, game theory, statistics, military science, and financial strategy. Uncertain Chances shows how the rise of chance shaped the way nineteenth-century American writers faced questions of doubt and belief. Poe in his detective fiction critiques probabilistic methods. Melville in Moby-Dick and beyond struggles to vindicate moral action under conditions of chance. Douglass and other African American authors fight against statistical racism. Thoreau learns to appreciate the play between nature's randomness and order. Dickinson works faithfully to render poetically the affective experience of chance-surprise. These and other nineteenth-century writers dramatize the inescapable dangers and wonderful possibilities of chance. Their writings even help to navigate extremes that remain with us today-fundamentalism and relativism, determinism and chaos, terrorism and risk-management, the rational confidence of the Enlightenment and the debilitating doubts of modernity.

Although puritans in 17th-century New England lived alongside both Native Americans and Africans, the white New Englanders imagined their neighbors as something culturally and intellectually distinct from themselves. Legally and practically, they saw people of color as simultaneously human and less than human, things to be owned. Yet all of these people remained New Englanders, regardless of the color of their skin, and this posed a problem for puritans. In order to fulfill John Winthrop's dream of a "city on a hill," New England's churches needed to contain all New Englanders. To deal with this problem, white New Englanders generally turned to familiar theological constructs to redeem not only themselves and their actions (including their participation in race-based slavery) but also to redeem the colonies' Africans and Native Americans. Richard A. Bailey draws on diaries, letters, sermons, court documents, newspapers, church records, and theological writings to tell the story of the religious and racial tensions in puritan New England.

A long-awaited history that promises to dramatically change our understanding of race in America, What Comes Naturally traces the origins, spread, and demise of miscegenation laws in the United States - laws that banned interracial marriage and sex, most often between whites and members of other races. Peggy Pascoe demonstrates how these laws were enacted and applied not just in the South but throughout most of the country, in the West, the North, and the Midwest. Beginning in the Reconstruction era, when the term miscegenation first was coined, she traces the creation of a racial hierarchy that bolstered white supremacy and banned the marriage of Whites to Chinese, Japanese, Filipinos, and American Indians as well as the marriage of Whites to Blacks. She ends not simply with the landmark 1967 case of Loving v. Virginia, in which the Supreme Court finally struck down miscegenation laws throughout the country, but looks at the implications of ideas of colorblindness that replaced them. What Comes Naturally is both accessible to the general reader and informative to the specialist, a rare feat for an original work of history based on archival research.

Perhaps no other area of Utah reflects the state's expansive diversity as clearly as the Wasatch Front. "Utah Reflections: Stories from the Wasatch Front" captures the heritage and identity of this self-defining part of the state. These personal stories are grounded in the mountains, waters, deserts and cities of a distinctive geography, from Cache Valley to Salt Lake City to Provo. Contributors include Lance Larson, Katharine Coles, Phyllis Barber, Sylvia Torti, Chadd VanZanten, Pam Houston and Terry Tempest Williams, as well as other exciting established and new voices. Each piece was thoughtfully selected as part of a sweeping panorama of cultural history and the traditions of a people bound to the region to show what makes the Wasatch Front unique, prosperous and beloved.

In 1859, the legendary Frank Jones Brewery was founded in Portsmouth, paving the way for the booming craft beer scene of today. The surge of budding breweries is bringing exciting styles and flavors to thirsty local palates and neighborhood bars from the White Mountains to the seacoast. Join beer scholars and adventurers Brian Aldrich and Michael Meredith as they explore all of the tastes New Hampshire beer has to offer. They've scoured the taps at Martha's Exchange, peeked around the brew house at Smuttynose and gotten personal with the brewers behind Flying Goose and Moat Mountain. Discover, pint for pint, the craft and trade of the state's unique breweries, from the up-and-comers like Earth Eagle and Schilling to old stalwarts like Elm City and Portsmouth Brewery.

Stevens County was first inhabited by a Paleo-Indian culture that occupied Kettle Falls along the Columbia River for 9,000 years. A gathering place for several Salish Indian tribes, the area called Shonitkwu, meaning "Falls of Boiling Baskets," was an abundant resource for fishing--specifically salmon. Traveling downriver from Kettle Falls to the trading post Spokane House in 1811, Canadian fur trapper David Thompson described the village as "built of long sheds of 20 feet in breadth" and noted the tribe's ceremonial dances worshiping the arrival of salmon. In 1829, Fort Colville was producing large amounts of food from local crops. And in 1934, work began on the Columbia Dam to generate a much-needed power source for irrigation from the Columbia River. Upon its completion in 1940, the native tribes gathered one last time, not to celebrate the return of the salmon but for a "ceremony of tears" on the salmon's departure.

In one of the greatest engineering feats of his time, Claudius Crozet led the completion of Virginia's Blue Ridge Tunnel in 1858. Two centuries later, the National Historic Civil Engineering Landmark still proudly stands, but the stories and lives of those who built it are the true lasting triumph. Irish immigrants fleeing the Great Hunger poured into America resolute for something to call their own. They would persevere through life in overcrowded shanties and years of blasting through rock to see the tunnel to completion. Prolific author Mary E. Lyons follows three Irish families in their struggle to build Crozet's famed tunnel and their American dream.

How is it that contemporary presidents talk so much and yet say so little, as H. L. Mencken once descibed, like dogs barking idiotically through endless nights? In The Anti-Intellectual Presidency, Elvin Lim tackles this puzzle and argues forcefully that it is because we have been too preoccupied in our search for a Great Communicator, and have failed to take presidents to task for what they communicate to us. Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton, he argues, spoke in a qualitatively different style than Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt. Reagan and Clinton merely connected with us; the two Roosevelts educated us. To alert us to the gradual rot of presidential rhetoric, Lim examines two centuries of presidential speeches to demonstrate the relentless and ever-increasing simplificaton of presidential rhetoric. If these trends persist, Lim projects that the State of the Union addresses in the next century could actually read at the fifth-grade level. Lim argues that the ever-increasing tendency for presidents to crowd out argument in presidential rhetoric with applause-rendering platitudes and partisan punch-lines was concertedly implemented by the modern White House. Through a series of interviews with former presidential speechwriters, he shows that the anti-intellectual stance was a deliberate choice rather than a reflection of presidents' intellectual limitations. Only the smart, he suggests, know how to dumb down. Because anti-intellectual rhetoric impedes, rather than facilitates communication and deliberation, Lim warns that we must do something to recondition a political culture so easily seduced by smooth-operating anti-intellectual presidents. Sharplywritten and incisively argued, The Anti-Intellectual Presidency sheds new light on the murky depths of presidential utterances and its consequences for American democracy.

Women played prominent roles during Stockton's growth from gold rush tent city to California leader in transportation, agriculture and manufacturing. Heiresses reigned in the city's nineteenth-century mansions. In the twentieth century, women fought for suffrage and helped start local colleges, run steamship lines, build food empires and break the school district's color barrier. Writers like Sylvia Sun Minnick and Maxine Hong Kingston chronicled the town. Dolores Huerta co-founded the United Farm Workers. Harriet Chalmers Adams caught the travel bug on walks with her father, and Dawn Mabalon rescued the history of the Filipino population. Join Mary Jo Gohlke, news writer turned librarian, as she eloquently captures the stories of twenty-two triumphant and successful women who led a little river city into state prominence.

In 1941, Greer Garson earned an Academy Award nomination for her portrayal of Fort Worth's Edna Gladney in "Blossoms in the Dust." All eyes turned toward the small yet mighty Gladney and her fight for children's rights and adoption reform. Born in 1886, Edna Gladney was labeled as "illegitimate" from birth and, as an adult, lobbied for that label's removal from all birth certificates. During World War I, when many women left the home to work, Edna opened an innovative daytime nursery to care for the children of these workingwomen. What became the Gladney Center for Adoption has changed the lives of families and children the world over. Author and Gladney parent Sherrie McLeRoy tells Edna's amazing story alongside the making of the movie that launched Edna and adoption reform beyond Fort Worth's borders to national recognition.

The first courts handled crimes like lying, idleness and card playing with punishments that ranged from fines to public whipping to death by hanging. Constables kept order until Portsmouth's first police officer took up the shield in 1800. But no force could keep all crime at bay. The court sentenced the beautiful, educated Ruth Blay to hanging on shaky evidence that she might have killed her baby. Business magnate Frank Jones played corrupt politics, succumbed to extramarital temptations and helped make Water Street the red-lighted rum hole destination of the eastern seaboard. Mischievous sailors came into port looking to spend their money, finding ample opportunity in Portsmouth's bowery bordellos. Retired Portsmouth police officer David "Lou" Ferland traces the history of Portsmouth crime and justice from the first courts to today's award-winning police department.

The field of American history has undergone remarkable expansion in the past century, all of it reflecting a broadening of the historical enterprise and democratization of its coverage. Today, the shape of the field takes into account the interests, identities, and narratives of more Americans than at any time in its past. Much of this change can be seen through the history of the Organization of American Historians, which, as its mission states, "promotes excellence in the scholarship, teaching, and presentation of American history, and encourages wide discussion of historical questions and equitable treatment of all practitioners of history."
This century-long history of the Organization of American Historians-and its predecessor, the Mississippi Valley Historical Association-explores the thinking and writing by professional historians on the history of the United States. It looks at the organization itself, its founding and dynamic growth, the changing composition of its membership and leadership, the emphasis over the years on teaching and public history, and pedagogical approaches and critical interpretations as played out in association publications, annual conferences, and advocacy efforts. The majority of the book emphasizes the writing of the American story by offering a panorama of the fields of history and their development, moving from long-established ones such as political history and diplomatic history to more recent ones, including environmental history and the history of sexuality

Nestled in the heart of Wisconsin's renowned Northwoods and surrounded by the world's largest inland chain of lakes, Three Lakes has developed into a premier resort and vacation destination while maintaining its small-town character. The pristine woodland trails and picturesque lakeside views that residents and visitors of today are accustomed to were not always here. Three Lakes was founded as a supply station for the massive logging operations of the late 1800s and early 1900s. Much of the area was barren of standing timber by the end of the first decade of the 20th century. The community reinvented itself as an agricultural center and as a vacation destination that played host to such notable individuals as Amelia Earhart, Bob Hope, and Pres. Dwight D. Eisenhower. The community has always shown pride in its schools, churches, and local organizations.

Colonial New England was awash in ales, beers, wines, cider and spirits. Everyone from teenage farmworkers to our founding fathers imbibed heartily and often. Tipples at breakfast, lunch, teatime and dinner were the norm, and low-alcohol hard cider was sometimes even a part of children's lives. This burgeoning cocktail culture reflected the New World's abundance of raw materials: apples, sugar and molasses, wild berries and hops. This plentiful drinking sustained a slew of smoky taverns and inns--watering holes that became vital meeting places and the nexuses of unrest as the Revolution brewed. New England food and drinks writer Corin Hirsch explores the origins and taste of the favorite potations of early Americans and offers some modern-day recipes to revive them today.

Residents of the idyllic villages scattered throughout the Upper Peninsula's richly forested paradise live in quiet comfort for the most part, believing that murder rarely happens in their secluded sanctuary3/4but it does, and more often than they realize. This collection of twenty-four legendary murders spans 160 years of Upper Michigan's history and dispels the notion that murder in the Upper Peninsula is an anomaly. From the bank robber who killed the warden and deputy warden of the Marquette Branch Prison to the unknown assailant who gunned down James Schoolcraft in Sault Ste. Marie, Sonny Longtine explores the tragic events that turned peaceful communities into fear-ridden crime scenes.

East Tennessee isn't typically mentioned among stock car racing's formative hotbeds. But the region from Bristol to Oneida and Chattanooga encapsulates a significant portion of the sport's history. From pioneers like Brownie King and Paul Lewis of Johnson City to former national champions Joe Lee Johnson of Chattanooga and L.D. Ottinger of Newport, East Tennessee has produced many of NASCAR's great drivers. The region is home to one of the world's largest sports stadiums in the Bristol Motor Speedway, but NASCAR also made regular visits to other area tracks. Whether the surface is red clay, asphalt or brushed concrete, East Tennessee still boasts some of the world's fastest, most competitive racing. Join author and racing insider David McGee as he presents a vast array of colorful characters whose passion fueled a sport that has gone from primitive to prime time.

New Mexico Territory attracted outlaws and desperados as its remote locations guaranteed non-detection while providing opportunists the perfect setting in which to seize wealth. Many wicked women on the run from their pasts headed there seeking new starts before and after 1912 statehood. Colorful characters such as Bronco Sue, Sadie Orchard and Lizzie McGrath were noted mavens of mayhem, while many other women were notorious gamblers, bawdy madams or confidence tricksters. Some paid the ultimate price for crimes of passion, while others avoided punishment by slyly using their beguiling allure to influence authorities. Follow the raucous tales of these wild women in a collection that proves crime in early New Mexico wasn't only a boys' game.