Offers a guide to census indexes, including federal, state, county, and town records, available in print and online; arranged by year, geographically, and by topic.
A genealogical overview of the Goodrich-Hippe and related families of Woodford County, Kentucky. Other family names include Watts, Hackney, Mahan, Street, Carroll, Jones, Reynolds, Railsback, Blizzard and Bradley. Additional locations include Owen, Henry, Bracken, Franklin and Anderson Counties.
The result of more than twenty years' research, this seven-volume book lists over 23,000 people and 8,500 marriages, all related to each other by birth or marriage and grouped into families with the surnames Brandt, Cencia, Cressman, Dybdall, Froelich, Henry, Knutson, Kohn, Krenz, Marsh, Meilgaard, Newell, Panetti, Raub, Richardson, Serra, Tempera, Walters, Whirry, and Young. Other frequently-occurring surnames include: Greene, Bartlett, Eastman, Smith, Wright, Davis, Denison, Arnold, Brown, Johnson, Spencer, Crossmann, Colby, Knighten, Wilbur, Marsh, Parker, Olmstead, Bowman, Hawley, Curtis, Adams, Hollingsworth, Rowley, Millis, and Howell. A few records extend back as far as the tenth century in Europe. The earliest recorded arrival in the New World was in 1626 with many more arrivals in the 1630s and 1640s. Until recent decades, the family has lived entirely north of the Mason-Dixon Line.
For every Wild Bill Hickok or Billy the Kid, there was another western gunfighter just as deadly but not as well known. Robert K. DeArment has earned a reputation as the premier researcher of unknown gunfighters, and here he offers twelve more portraits of men who weren’t glorified in legend but were just as notorious in their day. Those who think they already know all about Old West gunfighters will be amazed at this new collection. Here are men like Porter Stockton, the Texas terror who bragged that he had killed eighteen men, and Jim Levy, who killed a man for disparaging his Irish blood, though he was also the only known Jewish gunfighter. These stories span eight decades, from the gold rushes of the 1850s to the 1920s. Telling of gunmen such as Jim Masterson, the brother of Bat Masterson, or the real Whispering Smith—the man behind the fictionalized persona—whose career spanned four decades, DeArment conscientiously separates fact from fiction to reconstruct lives all the more amazing for having remained unknown for so long. The product of iron-clad research, this newest Deadly Dozen delivers the goods for gunfighter buffs in search of something different. Together the Deadly Dozen volumes constitute a Who’s Who of western outlaws and prove that there’s more to the Wild West than Jesse James.
Bolton (history, U. of Southern Mississippi) illuminates the social complexity surrounding the lives of a group consistently dismissed as rednecks, crackers, and white trash: landless white tenants and laborers in the era of slavery. A short epilogue looks at their lives today. Paper edition (unseen), $16.95. Annotation copyright by Book News, Inc., Portland, OR
The uncomfortable truths that shaped small communities in the midwest During the Great Migration, Black Americans sought new lives in midwestern small towns only to confront the pervasive efforts of white residents determined to maintain their area’s preferred cultural and racial identity. Jennifer Sdunzik explores this widespread phenomenon by examining how it played out in one midwestern community. Sdunzik merges state and communal histories, interviews and analyses of population data, and spatial and ethnographic materials to create a rich public history that reclaims Black contributions and history. She also explores the conscious and unconscious white actions that all but erased Black Americans--and the terror and exclusion used against them--from the history of many midwestern communities. An innovative challenge to myth and perceived wisdom, The Geography of Hate reveals the socioeconomic, political, and cultural forces that prevailed in midwestern towns and helps explain the systemic racism and endemic nativism that remain entrenched in American life.
In this book Professor Davis illustrates the often unexpected reach of historical research intended originally to fill a knowledge gap. He found a forgotten figure from the past who as a scholar and teacher had contributed significantly to education. Manuel’s story warranted attention, but in reconstructing it Professor Davis discovered leads to a more complex account in which the key actor, his ideas, and certain precise, albeit dynamic, social conditions intersected and influenced each other. In the end the book not only fills a gap, making the history of education in Texas and the United States more complete, it also underscores the thrust of other recent contributions to Latin American studies in casting doubt on the reliability of previously accepted standard histories. These accounts now seem dated and suspiciously wrong-headed. New research like that of Professor Davis pointedly suggests the old histories need to be reconceptualized, reorganized, and rewritten. Methodologically and substantively, his book advances work on this agenda. Specifically, it provokes fresh thinking about the now indisputably linked histories of education research, Mexican Americans, and racism in the United States.