Two times there was a wholesale destruction of Jacksonville's official records – in the War Between the States and by the fire of May 3, 1901. The author's effort in this work was to collect all of the available authentic matter for permanent preservation in book form. The record closes as of December 31, 1924. The record is derived from many sources – long forgotten books and pamphlets; old letters and diaries that have been stored away as family memorials of the past; newspapers beginning with the St. Augustine Herald in 1822 (on file at the Congressional Library at Washington) fragmentary for the early years, but extremely valuable for historical research; almost a complete file of local newspapers from 1875 to date; from the unpublished statements of old residents of conditions and outstanding events within the period of their clear recollection; and from a multitude of other sources of reliability. The search through the highways and the byways for local history was in the spare moments of the author stretching over a period of a score of years, a pastime "hobby" with no idea of making money out of it. No attempt has been made to discuss the merits of any incident, but only to present the facts, just as they were and just as they are, from the records and sources indicated.
Schools, welfare agencies, and a wide variety of other state and local institutions of vital importance to citizens are actually controlled by attorneys and judges rather than governors and mayors. In this valuable book, Ross Sandler and David Schoenbrod explain how this has come to pass, why it has resulted in service to the public that is worse, not better, and what can be done to restore control of these programs to democratically elected—and accountable—officials. Sandler and Schoenbrod tell how the courts, with the best intentions and often with the approval of elected officials, came to control ordinary policy making through court decrees. These court regimes, they assert, impose rigid and often ancient detailed plans that can founder on reality. Newly elected officials, who may wish to alter the plans in response to the changing wishes of voters, cannot do so unless attorneys, court-appointed functionaries, and lower-echelon officials agree. The result is neither judicial government nor good government, say Sandler and Schoenbrod, and they offer practical reforms that would set governments free from this judicial stranglehold, allow courts to do their legitimate job of protecting rights, and strengthen democracy.
In 1964 a small group of African American men in Jonesboro, Louisiana, defied the nonviolence policy of the mainstream civil rights movement and formed an armed self-defense organization--the Deacons for Defense and Justice--to protect movement workers fr
A groundbreaking contribution to the history of the "long Civil Rights movement," Hammer and Hoe tells the story of how, during the 1930s and 40s, Communists took on Alabama's repressive, racist police state to fight for economic justice, civil and political rights, and racial equality. The Alabama Communist Party was made up of working people without a Euro-American radical political tradition: devoutly religious and semiliterate black laborers and sharecroppers, and a handful of whites, including unemployed industrial workers, housewives, youth, and renegade liberals. In this book, Robin D. G. Kelley reveals how the experiences and identities of these people from Alabama's farms, factories, mines, kitchens, and city streets shaped the Party's tactics and unique political culture. The result was a remarkably resilient movement forged in a racist world that had little tolerance for radicals. After discussing the book's origins and impact in a new preface written for this twenty-fifth-anniversary edition, Kelley reflects on what a militantly antiracist, radical movement in the heart of Dixie might teach contemporary social movements confronting rampant inequality, police violence, mass incarceration, and neoliberalism.