Facts, Fiction & Tales of the Town Too Tough to Die

The desert oasis of Tombstone has reinvented itself many times over the course of the last century. From the boomtown heyday in the 1880s to its decline and reinvention as an icon of the Wild West, its reputation was built on colorful characters and even more colorful stories.

At its height, Tombstone was a town full of swinging saloons, bawdy brothels, and miners hanging their futures on extracting silver from the unforgiving landscape. Following close behind them were cold-blooded outlaws like the Cowboy gang and the legendary lawman Wyatt Earp, whose exploits live on in both myth and memory.

Doc Holliday’s outsized reputation was forged in part by Tombstone and the iconic gunfight in which he took part, and beneath Big Nose Kate’s Saloon, the ghost of the Swamper, who secretly dug into the mine shafts to steal the silver for himself, still roams.

Even the naming of Tombstone is linked to the larger-than-life story of prospector Ed Schieffelin. A soldier once mocked him with the words “all you’ll find out there is your tombstone,” but in 1877, when Ed struck it lucky in the Arizona desert, a legend was born.

The landscape of Connecticut is diverse, from coastal beaches to picturesque lakes and cozy, quaint villages with a rich historical and cultural heritage. In every city or town is a graveyard with a compelling story to tell carved in stone. From grinning skulls to massive marble mausoleums, Roxie Zwicker takes readers on a tour of the state from shore to hillside, uncovering mysterious tales of people who were thought to be witches in the early 1600s to stories of Revolutionary heroes. From the famous P.T. Barnum to the anonymous numbered dead of the Connecticut Valley Hospital, there are stories that need to be told. Ghost stories linger in many of these gardens of stone, perhaps as a connection to an unquiet past.

From the author of Murder in Victorian Western Michigan and Victorian Southwest Michigan True Crime comes more thrilling stories from the Wolverine State's past.

As the Michigan Central Railroad company became a juggernaut, the nineteenth-century rail line also devolved into a bastion for crime as morality was often set aside for profit. In 1850, a grand jury indicted fifty men in Jackson County for conspiracy to commit arson after a freight depot in Detroit was set ablaze. When two Grand Trunk locomotives collided in Battle Creek in 1893 killing twenty-seven people, a conductor and an engineer each accused the other, avoiding conviction. A Mineral Ridge train robbery of $70,000 in payroll money destined for miners on the Keweenaw Peninsula was exposed by a former railroad worker involved in the heist, allowing him to escape prosecution and sending four others to prison.

There was a time when Chicago’s affluent Lincoln Park was the forefront of a battle for a new kind of urban life. In the years after World War II, a movement began to reverse the middle-class flight to the suburbs. In place of the old, poorly maintained apartments and dense streetscapes of taverns and butchers in the North Side neighborhood, rehabbers imagined a new kind of community—a renovated, modern one that held on to the convenience, diversity, and character of a historic urban quarter but also enjoyed the prosperity and privileges of a new subdivision.

But as the old buildings came down, cheap studios were combined to create ever more spacious, luxurious homes. Property values swiftly rose, and the people who were being evicted to make room for progress began to assert their own ideas about the future of Lincoln Park, with the help of the Young Lords Organization. Over the course of the 1960s, divisions within the community deepened. Letters and picket lines gave way to increasingly violent strikes and counterstrikes as each camp tried to settle the same existential questions that beguile so many cities today: Who is a neighborhood for? And who gets to decide?

This revised edition features striking archival photos, new maps, and a foreword by devin michelle bunten explaining the lasting impact and relevance of the book to Chicagoans, planners, urbanists, and all who are curious about the way cities change.

Financial ambition, a tortured marriage, and an American city on the rise are brilliantly depicted in Frank Norris’ 1903 masterpiece. Curtis Jadwin is obsessed with speculating on the market, manipulating it so he can control the nation’s wheat supply. He neglects his wife, Laura, who seeks refuge in the arts, and in particular one artist, Sheldon Corthell. The Jadwin’s wealth buys them a mansion on Lincoln Park with an art gallery that strangers gawk at, but inside they struggle. And is Jadwin’s gambling sustainable, or is there a bear market in his future?

Curtis and Laura play out this American Dream scenario in the streets of Chicago, where they attend the opera at the Auditorium Building, visit the new art museum on the lake, and, from the comfort of their carriage, watch the trains and grain elevators. At the Board of Trade, in the pit, men yell and knock against each other, performing the theater of capitalism in front of an always crowded visitor’s gallery.

Few novels depict the struggles of marriage, the world of finance, or the rise of Chicago from the flatlands of the Midwest, as viscerally as this novel, originally published in 1903. Norris’s novel may immerse readers in a historic setting, but it’s punishing and profound themes are anything but dated.

This Belt Revivals edition features archival photographs and an introduction by Whet Moser.

Nestled along the Ouachita River in the piney hills of north-central Louisiana, Caldwell Parish was formed in 1838 from parts of Catahoula and Ouachita Parishes. 

Early settlers arrived by riverboat and wagon, drawn by rich timber, fertile bottomlands, and abundant wildlife. The communities that emerged—Columbia, Clarks, Grayson, and others—were shaped by the river’s commerce, the railroads, and the resilience of the people who worked its land and mills. From the steamboat captains who ferried cotton and passengers to notable natives such as Gen. Graves Erskine, Louisiana governor John McKeithen, and FBI agent Guy Banister, Caldwell’s history reflects both its rural roots and its far-reaching influence. Through these pages, readers can explore the faces and stories behind the churches, schools, businesses, and families that defined Caldwell Parish for generations.