The Colonial Records of the State of Georgia document the colony through its first twenty-five years and includes correspondence between Georgia founder James Oglethorpe and the Trustees for Establishing the Colony, as well as records pertaining to land grants; agreements and interactions with indigenous peoples; the settlement of a small Jewish community and the Salzburgers, German-speaking Protestant refugees; and the removal on restrictions of land tenure, rum, and slavery in the colony. Most of the local records of colonial Georgia were destroyed during the Revolution. Under Governor James Wright's direction, merchant John Graham loaded much of the official records on his vessel in the Savannah River. During the Battle of the Rice Boats in March 1776, the Inverness was burned while it lay at anchor. The destructive civil war that occurred in the latter phases of the Revolution resulted in further destruction. The Colonial Records of the State of Georgia, drawn from archival material in Great Britain, remain a unique source. Volume 27, spanning the years 1754-56, contains the papers of Georgia's first governor, John Reynolds, as well as the correspondence of various inhabitants.

The Colonial Records of the State of Georgia document the colony through its first twenty-five years and includes correspondence between Georgia founder James Oglethorpe and the Trustees for Establishing the Colony, as well as records pertaining to land grants; agreements and interactions with indigenous peoples; the settlement of a small Jewish community and the Salzburgers, German-speaking Protestant refugees; and the removal on restrictions of land tenure, rum, and slavery in the colony. Most of the local records of colonial Georgia were destroyed during the Revolution. Under Governor James Wright's direction, merchant John Graham loaded much of the official records on his vessel in the Savannah River. During the Battle of the Rice Boats in March 1776, the Inverness was burned while it lay at anchor. The destructive civil war that occurred in the latter phases of the Revolution resulted in further destruction. The Colonial Records of the State of Georgia, drawn from archival material in Great Britain, remain a unique source. Volume 27, spanning the years 1754-56, contains the papers of Georgia's first governor, John Reynolds, as well as the correspondence of various inhabitants.

In this fresh and fascinating chronicle of Christianity in the contemporary South, historian and minister James Hudnut-Beumler draws on extensive interviews and his own personal journeys throughout the region over the past decade to present a comprehensive portrait of the South's long-dominant religion. Hudnut-Beumler traveled to both rural and urban communities, listening to the faithful talk about their lives and beliefs. What he heard pushes hard against prevailing notions of southern Christianity as an evangelical Protestant monolith so predominant as to be unremarkable. True, outside of a few spots, no non-Christian group forms more than six-tenths of one percent of a state's population in what Hudnut-Beumler calls the Now South. Drilling deeper, however, he discovers an unexpected, blossoming diversity in theology, practice, and outlook among southern Christians. He finds, alongside traditional Baptists, black and white, growing numbers of Christians exemplifying changes that no one could have predicted even just forty years ago, from congregations of LGBT-supportive evangelicals and Spanish-language church services to a Christian homeschooling movement so robust in some places that it may rival public education in terms of acceptance. He also finds sharp struggles and political divisions among those trying to reconcile such Christian values as morality and forgiveness-the aftermath of the mass shooting at Charleston's Emanuel A.M.E. Church in 2015 forming just one example. This book makes clear that understanding the twenty-first-century South means recognizing many kinds of southern Christianities.

This book thematically analyses and surveys areas of Caribbean history and society. The work is divided into three parts: part one addresses migration and identity; part two explores policy and development; and part three explores music and literature. The volume places a fresh perspective on these topics. The essays depart from the usual broader themes of politics, economics and society and provide a deeper insight into forces that left a decisive legacy on aspects of the Caribbean region. Such contributions come at a time when some of the Caribbean territories are marking over 50 years as independent nation states and attempting to create, understand and forge ways of dealing with critical national and regional issues. The volume brings together a broad group of scholars writing on Caribbean issues including postgraduate students, lecturers, and researchers. Each chapter is thematically divided into the aforementioned areas. This book addresses areas much deeper than the linear historical and social science models, and it offers Caribbean academics and researchers a foundation for further research.

Andrew Pickens (1739-1817), the hard-fighting South Carolina militia commander of the American Revolution, was the hero of many victories against British and Loyalist forces. In this book, Rod Andrew Jr. offers an authoritative and comprehensive biography of Pickens the man, the general, the planter, and the diplomat. Andrew vividly depicts Pickens as he founds churches, acquires slaves, joins the Patriot cause, and struggles over Indian territorial boundaries on the southern frontier. Combining insights from military and social history, Andrew argues that while Pickens's actions consistently reaffirmed the authority of white men, he was also determined to help found the new republic based on broader principles of morality and justice. After the war, Pickens sought a peaceful and just relationship between his country and the southern Native American tribes and wrestled internally with the issue of slavery. Andrew suggests that Pickens's rise to prominence, his stern character, and his sense of duty highlight the egalitarian ideals of his generation as well as its moral shortcomings--all of which still influence Americans' understanding of themselves.

In 1916, Marcus Garvey, a recent immigrant from Jamaica, moved to New York City and established what would quickly become the largest Black mass movement in world history. Garveyism and the Garvey movement had a profound effect on the Black diaspora. In the eastern United States, the official name for Garvey's organization, the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA), began with thirteen members in 1916; by the early 1920s, it had more than 700 chapters spread through thirty-eight states. Internationally, there were hundreds of branches stretching across forty-one countries. Garveyism spread throughout the western US in the early 1920s. However, due to the small communities of Blacks who settled in the West, as well as the significant presence of other diverse racial groups, Garveyism on the West Coast looked very different from Garveyism elsewhere. Unlike in other geographic locations, Garveyites on the West Coast worked in conjunction with non-Black groups, which included East Indians, Mexicans, Pacific Islanders, and Asians. These multiracial leaders contributed to the western Garvey movement and spoke at UNIA chapter meetings, as their own nationalist movements corresponded with the rise of this popular Black nationalist movement. Whereas Garveyites on the East Coast fought constantly with the NAACP and the Urban League, these groups did indeed work together sporadically on the West Coast. Surveillance records from the American government provide evidence of the complex multiracial connections that occurred in the American West. While most scholarly research on Garvey has to this point examined the factions of the movement on the East Coast, Roose seeks to expand our knowledge of how we view Black nationalism, drawing out the complexity of the multicultural and multiracial Garvey movement as it existed on the West Coast. Black Star Rising offers new dimensions to conversations on race in the United States, Black nationalist movements, and multicultural organizing in the American West.

In 1917 it was still possible for the University of Oklahoma's annual Catalogue to include a roster of every student's name and hometown. A compact and close-knit community, those 2,500 students and their 130 professors studied and taught at a respectable (though small, relatively uncomplicated, and rather insular) regional university. During the following third of a century, the school underwent changes so profound that their cumulative effect amounted to a transformation. This second volume in David Levy's projected three-part history chronicles these changes, charting the University's course through one of the most dramatic periods in American history. Following Oklahoma's flagship school through decades that saw six U.S. presidents, eleven state governors, and five university presidents, Volume 2 of The University of Oklahoma: A History documents the institution's evolution into a complex, diverse, and multifaceted seat of learning. By 1950 enrollment had increased fivefold, and by every measure-the number of colleges and campus buildings, degrees awarded and programs offered, volumes in the library, faculty publications, out-of-state and foreign students in attendance-the University was on its way to becoming a world-class educational institution. Levy weaves together human and institutional history as he describes the school's remarkable-sometimes remarkably difficult-development in response to unprecedented factors: two world wars, the cultural shifts of the 1920s, the Great Depression, the rise of the petroleum industry, the farm crisis and Dust Bowl, the emergence of new technologies, and new political and social forces such as those promoting and resisting racial justice. National and world events, state politics, campus leadership, the ever-changing student body: in triumph and defeat, in small successes and grand accomplishments, all come to varied and vibrant life in this second installment of the definitive history of Oklahoma's storied center of learning.

With On to Petersburg, Gordon C. Rhea completes his much-lauded history of the Overland Campaign, a series of Civil War battles fought between Generals Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee in southeastern Virginia in the spring of 1864. Having previously covered the campaign in his magisterial volumes on The Battle of the Wilderness, The Battles for Spotsylvania Court House and the Road to Yellow Tavern, To the North Anna River, and Cold Harbor, Rhea ends this series with a comprehensive account of the last twelve days of the campaign, which concluded with the beginning of the siege of Petersburg. On to Petersburg follows the Union army's movement to the James River, the military response from the Confederates, and the initial assault on Petersburg, which Rhea suggests marked the true end of the Overland Campaign. Beginning his account in the immediate aftermath of Grant's three-day attack on Confederate troops at Cold Harbor, Rhea argues that the Union general's primary goal was not-as often supposed-to take Richmond, but rather to destroy Lee's army by closing off its retreat routes and disrupting its supply chains. While Grant struggled at times to communicate strategic objectives to his subordinates and to adapt his army to a faster-paced, more flexible style of warfare, Rhea suggests that the general successfully shifted the military landscape in the Union's favor. On the rebel side, Lee and his staff predicted rightly that Grant would attempt to cross the James River and lay siege to the Army of Northern Virginia while simultaneously targeting Confederate supply lines. Rhea examines how Lee, facing a better-provisioned army whose troops outnumbered Lee's two to one, consistently fought the Union army to an impasse, employing risky, innovative field tactics to counter Grant's forces. Like the four volumes that preceded it, On to Petersburg represents decades of research and scholarship and will stand as the most authoritative history of the final battles in the campaign.

In the decade after the landmark 1954 Brown v. Board decision, it became clear to students, parents, and community members alike that court cases were insufficient in the pursuit of educational justice. This book explores what made it difficult for educational equality to become obtainable after the Brown decision as well as the resilience and activism of younger Black students who sought to enforce equality-even when the government could not. The 1954 ruling enabled public schools to reach a degree of desegregation but did not enable them to become "the learning institutions they could have become" due to the actions of white officials and local white communities who construed Black youth's articulation of educational redress as "adversarial" instead of as a "communal enterprise." Importantly, Audacious Agitation does not portray Black youth as objects of study but rather highlights their powerful agency in increasing opportunity for themselves through the educational system

In the decade after the landmark 1954 Brown v. Board decision, it became clear to students, parents, and community members alike that court cases were insufficient in the pursuit of educational justice. This book explores what made it difficult for educational equality to become obtainable after the Brown decision as well as the resilience and activism of younger Black students who sought to enforce equality-even when the government could not. The 1954 ruling enabled public schools to reach a degree of desegregation but did not enable them to become "the learning institutions they could have become" due to the actions of white officials and local white communities who construed Black youth's articulation of educational redress as "adversarial" instead of as a "communal enterprise." Importantly, Audacious Agitation does not portray Black youth as objects of study but rather highlights their powerful agency in increasing opportunity for themselves through the educational system.

When thousands of working-class Barbadians left for Cuba in search of better economic opportunities during the early twentieth century, most of them did so with the expectation that they would eventually return to their home. They maintained many of the cultural traditions of their homeland, and they immersed their Cuba-born children in Barbadian culture by exposing them to the type of education which they themselves had received in Barbados and teaching them English to prepare them for life "back home". Although many of the migrants were not able to achieve this dream of returning home, some of their children and grandchildren have managed to retrace their ancestors' journey and find their roots in Barbados. This "reverse migration" is driven as much by economics as by sentiment for the ancestral homeland. The basis of that sentiment has sometimes been called into question, since these "CuBajans" have not always been regarded as true Barbadians by some among the local population. The CuBajans themselves have a sense of pride in what they have been able to achieve in Cuba, and they count themselves fortunate in having two homelands. With relatives still in Cuba, they maintain links through frequent communication, remittances and travel back to the island. In A Return to Roots: "CuBajans" in Barbados, these migrants tell their own stories through oral testimonies, which Sharon Milagro Marshall frames within the context of Barbadian and Cuban history.

Most histories of the American South describe the conflict between evangelical religion and honor culture as one of the defining features of southern life before the Civil War. The story is usually told as a battle of clashing worldviews, but in this book, Robert Elder challenges this interpretation by illuminating just how deeply evangelicalism in Methodist, Baptist, and Presbyterian churches was interwoven with traditional southern culture, arguing that evangelicals owed much of their success to their ability to appeal to people steeped in southern honor culture. Previous accounts of the rise of evangelicalism in the South have told this tale as a tragedy in which evangelicals eventually adopted many of the central tenets of southern society in order to win souls and garner influence. But through an examination of evangelical language and practices, Elder shows that evangelicals always shared honor's most basic assumptions. Making use of original sources such as diaries, correspondence, periodicals, and church records, Elder recasts the relationship between evangelicalism and secular honor in the South, proving the two concepts are connected in much deeper ways than have ever been previously understood.

For millennia, Native artists on Olympic Peninsula, in what is now northwestern Washington, have created coiled and woven baskets using tree roots, bark, plant stems--and meticulous skill. "From the Hands of a Weaver" presents the traditional art of basket making among the peninsula's Native peoples--particularly women--and describes the ancient, historic, and modern practices of the craft. Abundantly illustrated, this book also showcases the basketry collection of Olympic National Park.
Baskets designed primarily for carrying and storing food have been central to the daily life of the Klallam, Twana, Quinault, Quileute, Hoh, and Makah cultures of Olympic Peninsula for thousands of years. The authors of the essays collected here, who include Native people as well as academics, explore the commonalities among these cultures and discuss their distinct weaving styles and techniques. Because basketry was interwoven with indigenous knowledge and culture throughout history, alterations in the art over time reflect important social changes.
Using primary-source material as well as interviews, volume editor Jacilee Wray shows how Olympic Peninsula craftspeople participated in the development of the commercial basket industry, transforming useful but beautiful objects into creations appreciated as art. Other contributors address poaching of cedar and native grasses, and conservation efforts--contemporary challenges faced by basket makers. Appendices identify weavers and describe weaves attributed to each culture, making this an important reference for both scholars and collectors.
Featuring more than 120 photographs and line drawings of historical and twentieth-century weavers and their baskets, this engaging book highlights the culture of distinct Native Northwest peoples while giving voice to individual artists, masters of a living art form.

General George Crook was one of the most prominent soldiers in the frontier West. General William T. Sherman called him the greatest Indian fighter and manager the army ever had. And yet, on hearing of Crook's death, the Sioux chief Red Cloud lamented, "He, at least, never lied to us." As a young officer in the Pacific Northwest, Crook emphasized training and marksmanship--innovative ideas in the antebellum army. Crook's career in the West began with successful campaigns against the Apaches that resulted in his promotion to brigadier general. His campaign against the Lakota and Cheyennes was less successful, however, as he alternately displayed deep insight, egotism, indecision, and fear. Charles M. Robinson pieces together the contradictions of Crook's career to reveal that although the general sometimes micromanaged his campaigns to the point that his officers had virtually no flexibility, he gave his officers so much freedom on other occasions that they did not fully understand his expectations or objectives. Crook resented any criticism and was quick to blame both subordinates and superiors, yet Robinson shows that much of Crook's success in the Indian wars can be attributed to the efforts of subordinate officers. He also details Crook's later efforts to provide equal rights and opportunities for American Indians. General Crook and the Western Frontier, the first full-scale biography of Crook, uses contemporary manuscripts and primary sources to illuminate the general's personal life and military career.

"Riddell's travel account of early Texas rewards readers with a rich assortment of period detail."--True West "A scholarly and valuable contribution to our understanding of mid-nineteenth century Texas. . . . his observations on the land and its people will not disappoint."--Review of Texas Books "Perhaps divine intervention has kept silent this vainglorious scientist who so openly lusted for recognition; a century and a half, however, is penance enough, and for so effectively restoring this long-lost voice, the editor deserves praise."--Journal of Mississippi History

After a cascade of failures left residents of Flint, Michigan, without a reliable and affordable supply of safe drinking water, citizens spent years demanding action from their city and state officials. Complaints from the city's predominantly African American residents were ignored until independent researchers confirmed dangerously elevated blood lead levels among Flint children and in the city's tap water. Despite a 2017 federal court ruling in favor of Flint residents who had demanded mitigation, such efforts have been incomplete at best. Assessing the challenges that community groups faced in their attempts to advocate for improved living conditions, Tainted Tap offers a rich analysis of conditions and constraints that created the Flint water crisis. Katrinell Davis contextualizes the crisis in Flint's long and troubled history of delivering essential services, the consequences of regional water-management politics, and other forms of systemic neglect that impacted the working-class community's health and well-being. Using ethnographic and empirical evidence from a range of sources, Davis also sheds light on the forms of community action that have brought needed changes to this underserved community.

After midnight on December 10, 1964, in Ferriday, Louisiana, African American Frank Morris awoke to the sound of breaking glass. Outside his home and shoe shop, standing behind the shattered window, Klansmen tossed a lit match inside the store, now doused in gasoline, and instantly set the building ablaze. A shotgun pointed to Morris's head blocked his escape from the flames. Four days later Morris died, though he managed in his last hours to describe his attackers to the FBI. Frank Morris's death was one of several Klan murders that terrorized residents of northeast Louisiana and Mississippi, as the perpetrators continued to elude prosecution during this brutal era in American history. In Devils Walking: Klan Murders along the Mississippi in the 1960s, Pulitzer Prize finalist and journalist Stanley Nelson details his investigation-alongside renewed FBI attention-into these cold cases, as he uncovers the names of the Klan's key members as well as systemized corruption and coordinated deception by those charged with protecting all citizens. Devils Walking recounts the little-known facts and haunting stories that came to light from Nelson's hundreds of interviews with both witnesses and suspects. His research points to the development of a particularly virulent local faction of the Klan who used terror and violence to stop integration and end the advancement of civil rights. Secretly led by the savage and cunning factory worker Red Glover, these Klansmen-a handpicked group that included local police officers and sheriff's deputies-discarded Klan robes for civilian clothes and formed the underground Silver Dollar Group, carrying a silver dollar as a sign of unity. Their eight known victims, mostly African American men, ranged in age from nineteen to sixty-seven and included one Klansman seeking redemption for his past actions. Following the 2007 FBI reopening of unsolved civil rights-era cases, Nelson's articles in the Concordia Sentinel prompted the first grand jury hearing for these crimes. By unmasking those responsible for these atrocities and giving a voice to the victims' families, Devils Walking demonstrates the importance of confronting and addressing the traumatic legacy of racism.

More than 150 years after the end of the Civil War, scores of websites, articles, and organizations repeat claims that anywhere between 500 and 100,000 free and enslaved African Americans fought willingly as soldiers in the Confederate army. But as Kevin M. Levin argues in this carefully researched book, such claims would have shocked anyone who served in the army during the war itself. Levin explains that imprecise contemporary accounts, poorly understood primary-source material, and other misrepresentations helped fuel the rise of the black Confederate myth. Moreover, Levin shows that belief in the existence of black Confederate soldiers largely originated in the 1970s, a period that witnessed both a significant shift in how Americans remembered the Civil War and a rising backlash against African Americans' gains in civil rights and other realms. Levin also investigates the roles that African Americans actually performed in the Confederate army, including personal body servants and forced laborers. He demonstrates that regardless of the dangers these men faced in camp, on the march, and on the battlefield, their legal status remained unchanged. Even long after the guns fell silent, Confederate veterans and other writers remembered these men as former slaves and not as soldiers, an important reminder that how the war is remembered often runs counter to history.

Southern Exposure: The Overlooked Architecture of Chicago's South Side is the first book devoted to the South Side's rich and unfairly ignored architectural heritage. With lively, insightful text and gallery-quality color photographs by noted Chicago architecture expert Lee Bey, Southern Exposure documents the remarkable and largely unsung architecture of the South Side. The book features an array of landmarks-from a Space Age dry cleaners to a nineteenth-century lagoon that meanders down the middle of a working-class neighborhood street-that are largely absent from arts discourse, in no small part because they sit in a predominantly African American and Latino section of town that's better known as a place of disinvestment, abandonment, and violence. Inspired by Bey's 2017 Chicago Architecture Biennial exhibition, Southern Exposure visits sixty sites, including lesser-known but important work by luminaries such as Jeanne Gang, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Eero Saarinen, as well as buildings by pioneering black architects such as Walter T. Bailey, John Moutoussamy, and Roger Margerum. Pushing against the popular narrative that depicts Chicago's South Side as an architectural wasteland, Bey shows beautiful and intact buildings and neighborhoods that reflect the value-and potential-of the area. Southern Exposure offers much to delight architecture aficionados and writers, native Chicagoans and guests to the city alike.

Using the cultural history of Oregon's Nestucca Valley as a case study, Taylor illustrates the wisdom of seasonal labor, the complex relationships between work and identity, and the resilience of rural economics across a century of almost continual change.

Ever since she was a small child, Helma Swan, the daughter of a Northwest Coast chief, loved and learned the music of her people. As an adult she began to sing, even though traditionally Makah singers had been men. How did such a situation develop? In her own words, Helma Swan tells the unusual story of her life, her music, and how she became a singer. An excellent storyteller, she speaks of both musical and non-musical activities and events. In addition to discussing song ownership and other Makah musical concepts, she describes songs, dances, and potlatch ceremonies; proper care of masks and costumes; and changing views of Native music education. More generally, she speaks of cultural changes that have had profound effects on contemporary Makah life. Drawing on more than twenty years of research and oral history interviews, Linda J. Goodman in Singing the Songs of My Ancestors presents a somewhat different point of view-that of the anthropologist/ethnomusicologist interested in Makah culture and history as well as the changing musical and ceremonial roles of Makah men and women. Her information provides a context for Helma Swan's stories and songs. Taken together, the two perspectives allow the reader to embark on a vivid and absorbing journey through Makah life, music, and ceremony spanning most of the twentieth century. Studies of American Indian women musicians are rare; this is the first to focus on a Northwest Coast woman who is an outstanding singer and storyteller as well as a conservator of her tribe's cultural traditions.