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Although its role has changed over the past few centuries, the Mississippi has always been important to those who lived along its banks. Indigenous peoples fished its waters and depended on the waterway for transportation. Explorers and traders traveled the river in hopes of conquering more land and obtaining wealth for their countries. Settlers moved close to take advantage of the rich farmland the river provided. All of these pursuits resulted in a trade industry that brought about a social and economic transformation, when news and goods made their way downriver and livelihoods were provided. In fact, the Mississippi River's economic and strategic value was so important that when Ulysses S. Grant won the siege of Vicksburg and control of the river during the Civil War, the Confederacy was dealt a serious blow. Today, although still used to transport goods, the river has taken on yet another identity: that of entertainer. Literature, pleasure boats, and floating casinos all showcase a new dimension of this magnificent river.

Based on Corey Geiger's popular Homesteader's Hope column, On a Wisconsin Family Farm flings the barn doors wide open to a cast of characters who built America's Dairyland.

In 1905, twenty-eight-year-old Anna Satorie, granddaughter of Bohemian immigrants, went against cultural norms and became the sole owner of her family's homestead when she purchased the farm from her father. The next year, Anna married neighboring farmer John Burich, also of Bohemian extraction, and the couple went about building a thrifty family farm. But pioneer life was fraught with trials and tribulations. Polio and tuberculosis claimed loved ones, and the difficulties of Prohibition forced the family to fabricate the death of John's bootlegging brother to keep gangsters away from the farm. Neighbors pitched in as fellow immigrant families helped construct farmsteads and support one another through unsanctioned bank loans, daring dynamite work, and barn raisings. Leaving work aside, this vibrant community also threw parties met by the rooster's early-dawn crow.

Pairing his rural roots with lively storytelling, Geiger captures six generations of farming, family, and faith.

Michigan has more lighthouses than any other state, with more than 120 dotting its expansive Great Lakes shoreline. Many of these lighthouses lay claim to haunted happenings.

Former keepers like Captain Townshend at Seul Choix Point and prankster John Herman at Waugoshance Shoal maintain their watch long after death. At White River Light Station in Whitehall, Sarah Robinson still keeps a clean and tidy house, and a mysterious young girl at the Marquette Harbor Lighthouse seeks out other companions. Countless spirits remain between Whitefish Point and Point Iroquois in an area well known for its many tragic shipwrecks. Join author and Promote Michigan founder Dianna Stampfler as she recounts the tales from Michigan's ghostly beacons.

If you know anything about American history, you know the country was founded on the principle of religious tolerance. If you're more advanced, you know it depended on which religion.

Strange as it may seem today, it was illegal to practice Catholicism in Massachusetts until 1780, and the first public Mass wasn't celebrated until eight years later. However, by 1808, so much progress had been made that Pope Pius VII created the Diocese of Boston, which then encompassed all of New England. The community continued to grow throughout the 19th century, and by the early 1900s was a significant part of the Boston community, greatly bolstered by the waves of Irish and Italian Catholics immigrating in the US. The Catholic community had come of age, from newcomers with customs often perceived as strange, to being ever present at public events and in local, state, and national politics. This book traces the evolution of the Catholic community and its relationship with the larger Boston community, from its very humble beginnings in the 18th century through the death of influential Cardinal Richard J. Cushing in 1970.

Once known as Gasparilla Island, Boca Grande has become one of the best places to vacation and live.

Life on Gasparilla Island once had a very different rhythm. With a past intimately tied to Charlotte Harbor and the rich fishing grounds it provided, Gasparilla Island was, in its early history, the site of a small fishing village and a commercial fishery. The discovery of phosphate deposits in the region and the introduction of the railroad soon increased the pace of life, and a thriving port was built on the island's south end. As the twentieth century dawned and the Florida boom loomed on the horizon, the town of Boca Grande began to hum with the activity of a rapidly growing population. Though much has changed through the years--the little fishing village has vanished, the estimable Boca Grande Hotel is gone, and the once bustling port is now a state park--much of the region's unique history continues to inform the modern landscape. The venerable lighthouse, constructed in 1890, now serves as a museum of local history, and the grand Gasparilla Inn still stands firmly upon its original 1911 site. Those who now call Boca Grande home cherish it for the same island magic that fishermen and railroad officials recognized long ago: its unspoiled natural beauty, inviting climate, world-class fishing, and welcoming community.

Brooklyn, or "Bruculinu," as many Italians affectionately pronounced it, is where Italian values, culture, and dreams thrived.

In an era when over four million Italians found their way to America, the first significant influx came during the 1880s, primarily from rural peasant communities fleeing poverty and overpopulation. Although Italians in South Brooklyn have been traced back as far as the 1820s, the 1855 New York Census did not list any Italian natives in Brooklyn; however, by 1890, there were 9,563 Italians residing in the borough. By 1900, Brooklyn's Italian population was second only to Manhattan. Although the last notable wave of Italian immigration ended in the 1960s, Italian remains one of the six prevalent foreign languages in New York according to a 2007 census estimate. This work serves as a time capsule to remind us of the contributions and influences these immigrants have offered to the community.

"An in-depth look at the 1971 trial of a serial killer who's been mostly forgotten -- except to those who were forever impacted." The Seattle Times

In 1969, the body of a young woman was discovered in the woods of Renton, rocking the communities along Puget Sound. Three more brutal murders followed, drawing the attention of multiple police agencies as they tried to piece together the meager clues left behind. The seemingly unrelated cases challenged detectives, who struggled to realize they were all connected to one man: Gary Gene Grant. Before the term "serial killer" was even coined, Grant stalked his prey, destroying lives and families while walking unseen among the masses. Decades later, his crimes have all but been forgotten.

Join author and homicide investigator Cloyd Steiger as he uncovers the story of the murderer who slipped through the cracks of history.

Newtown has a rich heritage that is abundant with historic charm, a three-century-long growth founded on deep agricultural roots with a notable role in American history.

Once a busy commercial and cultural center, Newtown served as the county seat of Bucks County from 1726 to 1813. It was within this community the shots of British raiding parties resounded off homes and businesses, and from this small town on Christmas morning in 1776, General George Washington marched from his headquarters to join the Battle of Trenton. Over the succeeding years, Newton quietly transformed back into the pastoral town it had once been. Despite the many changes the town has seen, traces of this historic past remain still. From the archives of the Newtown Historic Association, Historic Newtown offers the reader a unique opportunity to see everyday life in this rural community as it was at the beginning of the 20th century. Within these photographs are many rare and never before published glimpses into the past of one of the oldest and most historic towns in Pennsylvania.

While men commit most of Alabama’s crimes, women have written some of the darkest chapters in state history.

Poisoners who murdered dozens. A mob icon who captivated millions. A grandmother cocaine queen. An anti-government cop killer. A madam whose courage lifted her from shame to legend. A mummified woman shrouded in mystery. Whether they enjoyed the spotlight or weaponized their status as unlikely suspects, these infamous women left scandal and misery in their wake. Journalist Jeremy W. Gray digs into the sordid mess left behind by some of the most notorious women in Alabama history.

Approximately 110,000 soldiers of the Union and Confederate armies fought along the banks of Antietam Creek in the bloodiest single-day battle in American history.

In 12 hours of fighting, approximately 23,000 men fell, either killed, wounded, or missing, forever scarring the landscape around the town of Sharpsburg. Established as the Antietam Battlefield Site in 1890, Antietam National Battlefield became a National Park Service landmark in 1933. The park grew from 33 acres in the 1890s to encompassing over 3,000 acres today. Some of the Civil War's most recognizable landmarks now sit within its boundaries, including Dunker Church, Bloody Lane, and Burnside Bridge. The events that occurred across the fields and woodlots around Sharpsburg and along Antietam Creek bring hundreds of thousands of visitors to Antietam National Battlefield every year.

This collection of over 200 images chronicles the life and times of this once fledgling township established in 1843, to its incorporation as a city in 1951, and on to its present day prosperity.

During the late 19th century, a small group of Frenchmen from the fort at Detroit settled north along the shore of Lake St. Clair at the mouth of the Milk River. Originally known as L'anse Creuse, this tiny settlement soon grew into a bustling farming community. Historian Arthur M. Woodford has compiled maps, photographs, and drawings to tell the story of this ""Village on the Lake."" Here the reader will find views of Lake St. Clair, the Milk River, and the many 19th century families and farms that fostered the growth of the area. Included are the stories of the infamous Blossom Heath Inn, Jefferson Beach Amusement Park, the grand Masonic Country Club, and the Interurban railway. Following World War Two, St. Clair Shores grew as part of the population boom of southeastern Michigan, and this once quiet village is now a modern suburban community of over 66,ooo residents.

Schuylkill County in east central Pennsylvania was built from the rich southern fields of anthracite coal.

The era when coal was king has long since passed, but the story of the development of the anthracite coal industry that fueled the Industrial Revolution in the U.S. has not been lost, and its legacy still influences our modern world. When Broad Mountain was conquered by the railroads and the Mahanoy plane was built, coal could be brought up over the mountain to reach its markets. The transportation that was necessary to get the coal to the rapidly developing markets in Philadelphia, New York, and New England caused the development of the towns in northern Schuylkill County such as Shenandoah, Mahanoy City, and Ashland during the 1850s–1860s. The vivid details and nuances of local community life from the 1850s to the 1920s are brought to light in this wonderful collection by historians Leo L. Ward and Mark T. Major.