Florida in the late 1800s was a veritable jungle frontier. It was hot, dangerous, hostile, and difficult to traverse and settle. Voracious insect swarms, bears, panthers, and alligators were dangerous to the unwary. There were postwar military trails and steamboats on the major waterways, but much of the state was inaccessible. In spite of its untamed nature, stories continued to filter into the north of Florida's exciting potential. This setting attracted all sorts of adventurers: land developers, people desperate for land, and people who wanted to make a quick dollar. The ones who stayed and thrived were tough, innovative, hard-working visionaries. This book focuses on the late 1800s through the 1920s, a truly exciting period in Indian River County history.

Those who have halted their treks down the National Road in Effingham County form a diverse band of characters, from Joseph Boleyjack, known as the "parched corn, summer preacher," to polished orators like William Jennings Bryan, who continued exhorting enthusiastic Effingham crowds as his train pulled away. Donaldson traces this story back to before this land was known as Effingham, to the burial mounds of the Kickapoo. He presses on through the challenges the county's determined inhabitants faced in the twentieth century, from the horrors witnessed abroad in the world wars to those faced at home during the Great Depression and in the tragic St. Anthony's Hospital fire. His obvious passion for the county's past is sure to strike a spark with lifelong residents and new arrivals alike.

During the late 1860s, Hispanos from Colorado's San Luis Valley moved their families east over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains into Huerfano County. Their story is an important and almost forgotten part of Colorado's history as a whole, though their contributions are still felt throughout the area today and their descendents still call this land home. In Forgotten Cuchare os of the Lower Valley, historian Virginia Sanchez brings this fascinating account of Native American, Hispano and Anglo cultures to life, presenting new information about Cucharas and the people who settled thee.

Fertile soil drew Ceres founder Daniel Whitmore to the flat land south of the Tuolumne River in California's San Joaquin Valley in 1867. Named for the Roman goddess of agriculture, Ceres was laid out in 1875 among the stalks of grain. A devout Baptist, Whitmore offered free lots to anyone who wanted to make Ceres their home with a pledge never to use alcohol. As irrigation water and railroad tracks were later introduced, the town flourished as an agricultural community where peaches, almonds, and walnuts are grown. Today Ceres has retained its agricultural roots, and drinking is now permissible. In fact, one of the nation's largest wine producers, Bronco Winery, calls Ceres home. Residents come together as a community with the Ceres Street Faire, summer Concerts in the Park, Farmers Market and the dazzling Christmas Tree Lane.

Incorporated in 1806, Meriden was once proposed as the state capital. Although the plan was not implemented, the rural village quickly burgeoned into a major manufacturing center with the advent of the industrial revolution. Meriden advanced to become renowned as the "Silver City." International Silver Company and other key businesses, such as Parker Gun, Manning Bowman, Wilcox and White, and Handel Lamp, made Meriden a familiar name. Home to Gov. Abiram Chamberlain, Arctic explorer Hugh Johnson Lee, opera diva Rosa Ponselle, and baseball's Connie Mack, the city has also long been enlivened by a diverse mixture of immigrants and newcomers. Bordered on the north by dramatic traprock ridges, Meriden has a larger percentage of parklands than any other town in Connecticut, with Hubbard Park its crowning jewel.

Home to more than 10 million people, modern Los Angeles County bears little resemblance to the largely agricultural landscape, dotted with small towns, of just over a century ago. Los Angeles County has surged forward on a path of phenomenal growth and constant transformation. Over this course, much of what was both famous and familiar to Angelenos 100 or even 50 years ago has been lost in the name of progress. This collection of more than 200 vintage postcards explores a sampling of these vanishing sites, including the once ubiquitous orange groves, views from the early days of the county's towns, yesteryear's famed attractions, landmarks, hotels, and restaurants, and scenes from the roadside era.

With 85 percent of its buildings on the National Register of Historic Places, Galena truly is a place drenched in history. From the ancient burial mounds crowding the high banks of the Mississippi to the home of President Ulysses S. Grant, the Illinois town's rich past is everywhere on display. Follow Diann Marsh in her dogged pursuit of that fascinating heritage and catch glimpses of unforgettable incidents like the courageous defense put up by a handful of Galena settlers during the Black Hawk War or the monster flood that turned a day in 1892 into a bridge-snapping spectacle. Fortunes are won and lost within the space of a page, but the legacy left by Galena's determined citizens and cared for by passionate guardians like Marsh is one that is sure to endure.

Forest Grove, one of the first settlements in the Oregon Territory, owes its name to its many varieties of trees. The first Euro-American settlers arrived in West Tualatin Plains in 1841 and were soon joined by other missionaries, including those fleeing the tragedy of the 1847 Whitman Massacre. Anticipating the inevitable emigrant migration, the missionaries hoped to teach the Native Americans about farming and religion. The rich soil and plentiful creeks made the area perfect for growing crops, and the abundant forests would provide a future lumber industry. Without any academic prospects, however, the area would not appeal to families. Two remarkable men, Rev. Harvey Clark and Rev. George Atkinson, and a feisty, lovable old woman named Tabitha Brown were determined to establish a school. Thanks to their combined efforts, an orphanage that began in a log cabin would grow into the prestigious institution of higher learning that exists today--Pacific University.

Garza County was created in 1876 and named by Texas legislators in honor of the de la Garza family of San Antonio. The county lay claim to vast ranch lands with the picturesque cap rock escarpment weaving its way from north to south. Though the 1880 census listed the population as a sparse 36 people--mostly landowners and cowhands--cattlemen like John B. Slaughter and W. E. Connell owned massive spreads in excess of 100,000 acres with more than 5,000 head of cattle and 100 horses. By 1900, the population had grown to 180, with only 545 acres in cultivation. Things changed with the arrival of cereal magnate C. W. Post, who came to Garza County to begin building his model town and experimental farming campaign. On June 15, 1907, an election to organize the county was held and Post City became the official county seat, touting the slogan "Gateway to the Plains."

Nestled in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains, Sidney has hummed with economic and industrial activity since its founding by Rev. William Johnston in 1772. Over the years, the town has been home to a silk mill, glassworks, cheese factory, car factory, and many other businesses. Notable figures such as New York State Police captain Daniel Fox, actor Tom Mix, newspaper editor Arthur Bird, and even Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt have lived in or spent time in the town. Today Sidney's civic buildings, places of worship, recreational haunts, and transportation routes continue to reflect the town's long, dynamic history. Traced within the pages of this book, a poignant collection of historical photographs chronicles the town's evolution through the 19th and 20th centuries, and on through the devastating flood of 2006.

As in other cities, Cleveland has developed through the evolution of its European ethnic neighborhoods and their various religions. Many of these neighborhoods built their own churches, which became the focus of community development and unity. For decades, these churches thrived, but the new millennium has brought with it huge changes in the economy. Large "membership" institutions, like the Catholic Church, have had to make the toughest of decisions--closing churches that were thought to be a permanent part of the local landscape. The authors of this book feel it is important to preserve the memory of these significant religious, cultural, and social institutions so that the current and future generations do not forget them. The pictures of these incredible places take on a whole new meaning when coupled with the fact that they will soon be gone. These pages celebrate the architecture, art, and artifacts of these sacred structures in high-quality photographs and explanations.

Since its founding in the late 17th century as a mill town, Glen Cove has been simultaneously rural and industrial, patrician and working class. A city of multiple ethnicities and close family ties, Glen Cove has been home to generations of immigrants who came to work and stayed to live, as well as to the children of America's elite who built their summer homes on the shores of Hempstead Harbor. In Glen Cove Revisited, "The Heart of the Gold Coast" is seen as only insiders know it, through images of the mill ponds and barnyards, estates and factories, schools and neighborhoods, and the people, famous and unknown, which make up this microcosm of America.

The county seat of Fulton County, Rochester is a small rural town in north-central Indiana. Its history includes many famous people. Despite the mistaken trivia game answer, Elmo Lincoln, the first Tarzan in 1918, was born in Rochester, Indiana, not New York. And John Chamberlain, famous modern sculptor, was born here too. Clyde Beatty, wild animal trainer extraordinaire, lived here while the Cole Brothers-Clyde Beatty Circus had its winter quarters in Rochester in the 1930s. For a community with such a small population, Rochester has harbored more than its share of famous people.

This is the place. As Heriot Clarkson sat on his mule atop Grassy Mountain in June 1909, he looked out over a sea of mountains extending to the horizon in every direction, his dreams before him. Here was the spot for a retreat from the summer heat of the piedmont and coastal plain where simple living and nature's beauty would combine to create an idyllic
community. But the story doesn't begin there. Hardy Scotch-Irish settlers moved into these same mountains some two centuries earlier, admiring the same views and putting down permanent roots. Images of America: Little Switzerland documents the unique interactions between native and summer residents in
working together to build this remarkable community. The social, economic, historical, and spiritual fabric that makes Little Switzerland unique among resort communities is presented, along with the personalities and places that provide its character.

Not-a-pe-ka-gon was the Native American name given to the Ludington area and translates as "heads on sticks." The name refers to a battle between the Ottawa and Mascouten Indians in the 17th century that raged along the river toward Lake Michigan. The heads of the defeated Mascoutens were placed on sticks as a warning to all. Later a bluff overlooking the lake and river was the site of the 1675 death of Fr. Jacques Marquette, a Jesuit missionary and explorer. When the first settlers of European descent arrived, they gave the name of Pere Marquette to their village, lake, and river in honor of the fallen missionary. Eventually renamed after lumber baron James Ludington, the community became a bustling maritime port and the home of the largest car ferry fleet in the world.

On February 16, 1912, La Mesa Springs, a community of 700 citrus farmers, home seekers, developers, and businessmen, incorporated into the City of La Mesa. Located amongst the rolling hills and mesa lands between San Diego and El Cajon, today's suburban city of over 56,000 is still renown for its small town character, featuring its historic "village" business district, family-friendly neighborhoods, good schools, and ample retail and recreational amenities. The area's centuries-old prehistory and history can be traced to the natural springs that attracted stockman Robert Allison in 1869. Allison Springs, later renamed, prospered and grew after the arrival of the railroad in 1889. After incorporation, the young city grew steadily, reaching 3,925 residents by 1940. Post-World War II La Mesa exemplified the exponential suburban growth of the region, expanding to the north and west of the old downtown to accommodate 50,000-plus residents by 1980--all were attracted, as today, to the "Jewel of the Hills."

When Oakdale began in the 1680s, it was a woodland wilderness. Following the American Revolution, farmers cleared and worked the land. "Oyster King" Jacob Ockers and his men followed, working the bay. The railroad ushered in wealthy sportsmen to the South Side Sportsmen's Club. Some of these men, like William K. Vanderbilt and William Bayard Cutting, stayed and built palaces for their families. The scene changed starting in the 1920s, bringing flappers, artists, bootleggers, and Broncho Charlie, the last living Pony Express rider. The former mansions of the well-to-do now served as homes to a military academy and a religious cult, while still retaining their turn-of-the-century style.

Watertown is a perfect place to raise children, where criminal mischief and scandal are the rare exception to the rule. Discover over a century and a half's worth of exceptions. Travel back to the origins of Watertown, when the house next door might be a brothel and the man on the street might be a serial killer. Hear the tale of poor ninety-five-year-old Mary Kodesch, whose son left her to freeze to death in the barn, and that of the two young boys whose 1890 campaign of arson targeted everything from a church to a box factory. Then press on into the violent history of the Cleveland Street poltergeist house as Jannke delivers a thrilling combination of thoroughly researched fact and inexplicable mystery that will leave the hardiest Watertown residents torn between eagerly turning the next page and nervously looking over their shoulders.

Visit the wicked Fox Cities, full of place names like La Grand Butte des Morts ("the Big Hill of the Dead") and Winneconne ("the Place of Skulls") that date from an era when "settlement" was frequently synonymous with "slaughter." Even after the firm establishment of modern civilization, there remained an uneasy truce between lined pockets and bared knuckles that was often only brokered by heavy drinking. Stumble across the frozen Fox River and barge into local watering holes, where the only pauses in the revelry are discussions about desecrating Joe McCarthy's grave. Points of interest include the Oshkosh rat-betting scene, the Appleton "Union Street Resorts" and the Neenah tavern, where a world-champion boxer hid from the doctor who had bought his bones.

In this collection of her "History Matters" columns from the American Journal, Andrea Vasquez takes readers back to the early days of Puritans and pioneers, when stately forests, wildlife and powerful tribes owned the land around Westbrook. Discover the secret burial place of Colonel Thomas Westbrook, the legacies of Westbrook benefactors Joseph Walker and Samuel Dennis Warren and the all-but-forgotten works of master sculptor Benjamin Paul Akers, whose life was tragically cut short at the height of his career. Vasquez preserves the memories and stories of these sons and daughters of Westbrook, from Cornelia Warren, a forward-thinking philanthropist and women's advocate, to Fabius Maximus Ray, one of Westbrook's first local historians.