In the Shadow of the Courthouse invites the reader to imagine coming of age (8 to 13) in Clinton, Iowa in the middle of the United States, in the middle of the century (1942-1947) and in the middle of this farm belt community of 33,000 snuggled against the muddy Mississippi River during World War Two, and in the shadow of the courthouse with its magnificent four-sided face clock chiming the time every half hour and looking down on you no matter where you might go. It is in this working class climate that the author came of age in the shadow of that courthouse while the nation struggled to come of age in the shadow of the atomic bomb. There was no television. There were no mega sports. Nor were there big automobiles, or manicured lawns. There was radio, movies, high school sports, and the Industrial Baseball League, where men too young or too old to go to war played baseball for the fun of it. Clintonians, as everyone was known, had victory gardens, drove old jalopies, took the bus or rode their bicycles to work. It was a time when the four faces of the magnificent Clinton County Courthouse clock chimed on the half hour, and threw a metaphorical shadow over young people's lives. This made certain they would not have any excuse for being late for meals made essentially from victory garden staples. The courthouse neighborhood, which is the focus of this story, had most stay-at-home mothers in two-parent families. Few parents managed to get beyond grammar school, nearly all worked in Clinton factories or on the railroad. Divorce was as foreign as an ancestral language. It was a time when Clinton families during atrocious summer hot spells could be found to be sleeping in Riverview Park near the Mississippi River, watching the river barges pass in the night. It was not uncommon for people to leave their windows open, their doors unlocked, and bicycles on the side of the house, and if they had automobiles, keys in the car, secure in the knowledge that neither neighbor nor stranger would disturb their possessions. In winter, schools were never closed even when snow banks were four feet high.In the Shadow of the Courthouse is a narrative snapshot of core neighborhood activities of young people against the backdrop of the courthouse, St. Patrick's School, Riverview Stadium, downtown Clinton and uptown Lyons, Bluff Boulevard, Hoot Owl Hollow, Mount St. Clare College, Mill Creek, Beaver Slough, Joyce Slough, the churches, schools, and hospitals throughout the city, U.S. Army's Schick General Hospital, which brought the war to this place, tending battlefield casualties, the USO, Chicago & North Western Railway, Clinton Foods, Du Pont, and many other industries, which were working hard toward the war effort as seen through the impressionistic eyes of the author as a boy from age eight to thirteen. It was also a time when kids created their own play, as parents were too tired or too involved in the struggle to make a living to pay them much mind. Clinton youngsters would never know such Darwinian freedom or its concomitant brutality again. This is not a history of the times. Nor is this a novel in the conventional sense, but rather the recollections of a time, place and circumstance through the author's self-confessed imperfect vision. In the Shadow of the Courthouse promises to awaken that sleeping child in the reader of every age.

Nearly 5,000 black Americans were lynched between 1890 and 1960. Over forty years later, Sherrilyn Ifill's On the Courthouse Lawn examines the numerous ways that this racial trauma still resounds across the United States. While the lynchings and their immediate aftermath were devastating, the little-known contemporary consequences, such as the marginalization of political and economic development for black Americans, are equally pernicious. On the Courthouse Lawn investigates how the lynchings implicated average white citizens, some of whom actively participated in the violence while many others witnessed the lynchings but did nothing to stop them. Ifill observes that this history of complicity has become embedded in the social and cultural fabric of local communities, who either supported, condoned, or ignored the violence. She traces the lingering effects of two lynchings in Maryland to illustrate how ubiquitous this history is and issues a clarion call for American communities with histories of racial violence to be proactive in facing this legacy today. Inspired by South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission, as well as by techniques of restorative justice, Ifill provides concrete ideas to help communities heal, including placing gravestones on the unmarked burial sites of lynching victims, issuing public apologies, establishing mandatory school programs on the local history of lynching, financially compensating those whose family homes or businesses were destroyed in the aftermath of lynching, and creating commemorative public spaces. Because the contemporary effects of racial violence are experienced most intensely in local communities, Ifill argues that reconciliation and reparation efforts must also be locally based in order to bring both black and white Americans together in an efficacious dialogue. A landmark book, On the Courthouse Lawn is a much-needed and urgent road map for communities finally confronting lynching's long shadow by embracing pragmatic reconciliation and reparation efforts.

A comprehensive guide to American cross-country travel furnishes detailed descriptions of a variety of odysseys, including such routes as an Eastern Seaboard trip, Route 66, Highway 40, and the Al-Can Highway to Anchorage, along with listings of lodgings and eateries.

American dispute resolution is more adversarial, compared with systems of other economically advanced countries. Americans more often rely on legal threats and lawsuits. American laws are generally more complicated and prescriptive, adjudication more costly, penalties more severe. Here, Kagan examines the origins and consequences of this system.

After a few years as a police officer in Columbus, Michael Keane has no trouble relaxing into the far less stressful job of deputy sheriff in his small hometown. After all, nothing ever happens in Hidden Springs, Kentucky. Nothing, that is, until a dead body is discovered on the courthouse steps. Everyone in town is a little uneasy. Still, no one is terribly worried--after all the man was a stranger--until one of their own is murdered right on Main Street. As Michael works to solve the case it seems that every nosy resident in town has a theory. When the sheriff insists Michael check out one of these harebrained theories, his surprising discovery sends him on a bewildering search for a mysterious killer that has him questioning everything he has ever believed about life in Hidden Springs. Bringing with her a knack for creating settings you want to visit and an uncanny ability to bring characters to life, A. H. Gabhart pens a whodunit that will keep readers guessing.

This powerful book tells the story of Anne Skorecki Levy, a Holocaust survivor who transformed the horrors of her childhood into a passionate mission to defeat the political menace of reputed neo-Nazi and Ku Klux Klan leader David Duke. The first book to connect the prewar and wartime experiences of Jewish survivors to the lives they subsequently made for themselves in the United States, Troubled Memory is also a dramatic testament to how the experiences of survivors as new Americans spurred their willingness to bear witness. Perhaps the only family to survive the liquidation of the Warsaw Ghetto as a group, the Skoreckis evaded deportation to Treblinka by posing as Aryans. The family eventually made their way to New Orleans, where they became part of a vibrant Jewish community. Lawrence Powell traces their dramatic odyssey and explores the events that eventually triggered Anne Skorecki Levy's brave decision to honor the suffering of the past by confronting the recurring specter of racist hatred.

"Backroads of Arizona is a guide to scenic drives all over this diverse state, updated with new routes and photography."--Provided by publisher.