A Thrilling Lost Chapter of Mob Rule

Western Pennsylvania’s New Kensington was in the grips of Mafia control throughout the 1950s, with a bevy of bookie joints, gambling casinos and brothels. An outgrowth of the Pittsburgh mob, New Kensington’s Costa Nostra ordered a group of Mafiosi to break into a National Guard station in Ohio and steal a shipment of weapons. The guns were destined for Fidel Castro, who was waging guerrilla war in Cuba. The Pittsburgh Mafia was hoping to get on Castro’s good side if he won the war to secure the reopening of gambling casinos. From a daring heist in Canada to Swiss bank accounts and CIA informants, this infamous gunrunning scheme was a high-speed saga of international intrigue. Join author Richard Gazarik as he presents a harrowing historical narrative of the criminal underworld of Western Pennsylvania.

Ventura County has its roots in the founding of Mission San Buenaventura during the Spanish era (1769–1821). During the Mexican era (1822–1846), expansive mission lands were divided and granted out as ranchos for individual landownership to those with political influence and to former soldiers for loyal service during the war. When California became a state in 1850, settlers, prospectors, and developers began to purchase rancho lands. Ventura County became one of the most productive agricultural and oil-rich lands in the state and country. Farmland dominated much of the county’s landscape in the early years—oranges were its most popular fruit, and sugar beets were its prized commodity. Although the county still has an agricultural landscape in many of its cities and towns, the county is a patchwork of farms, islands, high-tech businesses, and military defense installations. It is as diverse as its people.

New Mexico's Spanish legacy has informed the cultural traditions of one of the last states to join the union for more than four hundred years, or before the alluring capital of Santa Fe was founded in 1610. The fame the region gained from artist Georgia O'Keefe, writers Lew Wallace and D.H. Lawrence and pistolero Billy the Kid has made New Mexico an international tourist destination. But the Spanish annals also have enriched the Land of Enchantment with the factual stories of a superhero knight, the greatest queen in history, a saintly gent whose coffin periodically rises from the depths of the earth and a mysterious ancient map. Join author Ray John de Aragón as he reveals hidden treasure full of suspense and intrigue.

Histories of Pasadena are rich in details about important citizens, time-honored traditions, and storied enclaves such as Millionaires Row and Lamanda Park. But the legacies of Mexican Americans and other Latino men and women who often worked for Pasadena's rich and famous have been sparsely preserved through the generations—even though these citizens often made remarkable community contributions and lived in close proximity to their employers. A fuller story of the Pasadena area can be provided from these vintage images and the accompanying information culled from anecdotes, master's theses, newspaper articles, formal and informal oral histories, and the Ethnic History Research Project compiled for the City of Pasadena in 1995. Among the stories told is that of Antonio F. Coronel, a one-time Mexican Army officer who served as California state treasurer from 1866 to 1870 and whose image graced the 1904 Tournament of Roses program.

For the past 50 years, Cuban refugees and Central American immigrants have moved to an old quarter of Miami known as Little Havana. This internationally known community is famous for its sizzle, its heated ethnic politics, its entrepreneurial zest, and its colorful street life and celebrations. Before it became Little Havana, the area was home to a vast array of people, including white and black Bahamians, Jews, people from parts of the Middle East, and folks with Deep South pedigrees. The quarter's most famous neighborhoods then were Riverside and Shenandoah. Riverside emerged from the piney woods at the start of the 19th century and hosted some of the earliest city institutions, as well as picturesque homes and tree-shaded streets. Shenandoah was farmland as late as the 1920s, before a real estate boom transformed it into a neighborhood of gorgeous Mediterranean Revival–style homes. Southwest Eighth Street, the famed Calle Ocho, once divided the two neighborhoods, but the vast influx of Hispanics erased that division as the thoroughfare developed its own identity.

Vanessa Fonseca-Chávez is a Nuevomexicana with roots in northwestern New Mexico and has family connections in Concho. Angela Perea Murphy grew up in Concho and resides across the street from her childhood home. They are both proud to share more than 150 photographs showcasing Concho life from the early 1910s though the 1970s, provided by private collections and now archived as part of the Voces Oral History Center at the Nettie Lee Benson Latin American Collection as well as photographs from photographer Russell Lee that can be found at the Library of Congress.

Settled in 1861 by Manuel Antonio “M.A.” Candelaria, the town of Concho, or Old Concho, is situated in northeastern Arizona in what is now Apache County. Many New Mexican Hispano Catholic families migrated to Concho from the central and western New Mexico Territory, establishing a sheepherding community that continued into the early 20th century. The valley had a natural spring that enabled orchards, farms, and ranches to thrive. The town saw the establishment of important businesses in Concho, including the first bank in Apache County. One of the most beloved buildings, the San Rafael Catholic Church, was established in 1925 and is still standing today. Many of the founding families—Ortega, Padilla, Sandoval, Martínez, Romero, García, Durán, Candelaria, Baca, Saiz, Chávez, Archuleta, and others—were part of this lively village community and are proud to carry on its legacy. Though Concho is now classified as a ghost town, the photographs and stories contained in this book share a different narrative.