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Door County is the home to numerous shipwrecks of pleasure craft and steamers, on a photographic journey of the treacherous waters and those they have claimed.

Door County is the final resting place of many shipwrecks, from the first Euro American ship to sail the western Great Lakes, LaSalle's fabled Griffin that left Washington Island in 1679 never to be heard of again, to modern-day pleasure crafts that find the shallow inlets and bays hard to navigate. Door Peninsula Shipwrecks takes the reader on a photographic journey around the peninsula and back to a time of wooden ships and iron men. From Sturgeon Bay to the east coast of the peninsula to the northern islands and Green Bay, the journey encompasses early wooden sail craft to steel steamers, the brave sailors who sailed the treacherous waters, and the heroic lifesavers who rescued them.

Imagine a force in nature more powerful than multiple atomic bombs--that was the Great Hinckley Fire of September 1, 1894. In only four hours, the fire incinerated over 400 square miles of forest, killed at least 418 settlers and an unknown number of forest-dwelling Native Americans, and destroyed six towns in a firestorm of flame. The elements that led to this unprecedented catastrophe included careless logging practices, a drought, freakish weather, and suspected sparks from passing locomotives. The story of the 1894 fire is a saga of devastation, heartbreak, heroism, survival, hope, and rebuilding that captured worldwide attention. Recently discovered photographs provide a backdrop for a fresh look at the events surrounding the disaster and the courage of the pioneers who survived to tell the tale.

Images of America: Cleveland Area Disasters looks back at the historic disasters to strike Cleveland in the first half of the 20th century. It documents the tornados, fires, cave-ins, accidents, and explosions that befell the region during that period. Most Clevelanders have heard stories of the Collinwood school fire, the Lorain tornado, the Cleveland Clinic fire, and the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey fire; however, over the decades, the true events and the tall tales that followed have become blurred. Some disasters, such as the West 117th Street explosion and the Waterworks Tunnel cave-ins, seem almost completely forgotten. Although tragic, the disasters in this book affected the lives of Clevelanders and often generated changes for the good, which prevented these sorts of tragedies from occurring again. Sadly, in some instances, they did not.

After an extremely hot and dry summer, Chicago got a spark that grew into something unimiginable and unforgettable on Oct. 8, 1871.

On Oct. 8, 1871, what became known as "the Great Chicago Fire" was a massive firestorm that moved faster than most men could run, fueled by southwest winds of at least 30 miles per hour. The heat was so intense it melted stone and brick buildings in minutes and turned sand on the lakeshore into glass. A total of 18,000 buildings were destroyed. About 100,000 were left homeless, and over 300 lost their lives. The very same day, and nearly the same hour, both the Lower Peninsula of Michigan and Peshtigo, Wisconsin, suffered similar firestorms. Peshtigo's was even worse, creating an event that came to be known as "the Peshtigo Paradigm." Many people believe the three fires forming a huge triangle of destruction were related as one with cosmic causes, and it remains a mystery to this day. Authors and native Chicagoans John Boda and Ray Johnson take you inside this historic happening.

The rain began to fall on Easter Sunday, March 23, 1913. In Troy, 15 people lost their lives during the flood due to drowning, and in the weeks and months that followed an unknown number died from flood-related diseases. The story of what happened in Troy has often been overlooked, but in 1976 the Troy Historical Society Oral History Committee interviewed Troy flood survivors as a project for the bicentennial of the United States. These interviews, preserved on audiotapes, provide researchers firsthand accounts of what happened in the town. The late Mrs. Lois Shilling Davies, a past president of the Troy Historical Society who lived in Troy during the flood, deserves much of the credit for this invaluable resource, for it is she who conducted many of the interviews. Images of America: Troy and the Great Flood of 1913 relates how residents endured without having any instruction or experience in emergency preparedness. This is a celebration of human bravery, kindness, and ingenuity--of people who triumphed over tragedy.

On Sunday, March 23, 1913, the burgeoning city of Omaha, Nebraska, fell victim to one of the worst tornado disasters in American history. Downtown was spared, but the fashionable neighborhoods of the city's western fringe and the ethnic neighborhoods of north Omaha were destroyed. Over 100 lives were lost, and millions of dollars in property damage was done. Photographers descended upon Omaha, rendering astonishing images of the storm's aftermath. This book uses nearly 200 of those photographs, many of which are drawn from the Durham Western Heritage Museum archives, to document the tornado's path of destruction, as well as stories of survival, compassion, reconstruction, and the remarkable unity and resilience of the Omaha community.

Fargo, North Dakota, and Moorhead, Minnesota, have existed on opposite sides of the Red River of the North since 1871. Ever since, heavy moisture from melting snow has combined with spring rains to threaten both towns with a rapidly rising, twisting river. Minor flooding is almost an annual event, and on six occasions the two towns experienced major floods requiring evacuations of large numbers of residents. The history of these floods is covered in the photographs contained in this book, including many provided by residents, local flood-fighting crews, and state and federal agencies. These images tell the story of how the two communities deal with one of nature's most common dangers.

For well over its 130-year existence, River Grove has been a place to call home, first by the Native American tribes, then by a few settlers--mostly of Germanic origin--to the melting pot it has become today. Through photographs, the reader will travel from the farmlands it once contained to a Polynesian paradise nestled near the banks of the Des Plaines River; a town where a thirsty whale could satisfy its appetite with legendary Vienna Red Hots, no ketchup, of course, and a mai tai. Considered a real-life "Mayberry" by longtime residents, it continues to have that small-town feel amid the hustle and bustle of a village bordering the metropolis that is Chicago. The oldest town in Leyden Township has literally weathered many storms--and floods--and as the townsfolk stood shoulder to shoulder filling sandbags, they realized that they indeed inhabit a "village of friendly neighbors."