America's first great civil war battle took place on a hill in South Carolina...more than a quarter-century before Robert E. Lee was born. A pair of Presidents and their First Ladies repose side by side for all eternity in the undercroft of a Massachusetts church. America's most dramatic case of treason played out along the banks of New York's Hudson River where barges and yachts now pass. One of Florida's fabled keys hosts an annual festival that draws throngs...yet no one lives on the island any other day of the year. These are but four examples of classic Americana tucked away in hidden nooks, secret pockets of historical, cultural, and human interest unknown to most Americans. If you know where to look, you can enter a colorful, extravagant, gaudily lighted Christmas village in Pennsylvania such as you've never seen before. And if you're in the right place in Washington, you can visit a cemetery containing the grave of one of America's most famous Native Americans and choke up at the affecting personal tributes to ordinary everyday Indians that surround it. In the middle of Minnesota you can tour an iron ore mine so real you almost forget it's fake. On the banks of the Ohio River in Illinois you can enter a huge cave whose dark, eerie recesses once enticed travelers, naturalists, and America's first serial killers. In Hawaii you can descend a hidden, unimproved trail to one of the Pacific's most enchanting bays and walk along the shore where the world's greatest explorer was killed. In Alaska you can walk up to a glacier whose enormity will overwhelm you and then hike across it and taste its icy wetness. These are not famous places. They are, rather, obscure, unheralded, little-visited corners of America waiting to tempt you. Welcome to "Arcane America: 101 of the Best Places You Never Heard Of," a compilation of some of the least-known, most-interesting sites in the United States: a Connecticut prison where inmates served their time chained to the bowels of a deserted copper mine; a rural Iowa county that spawned America's greatest western actor and a sextet of covered bridges; a New Jersey miniature kingdom whose beauty and artistry killed its creator; a New York county where you can ride the largest number of free carousels anywhere in the world; a temple of gold to one of the world's most misunderstood religions in the rolling hills of West Virginia; a medical museum in the nation's capital where you'll see pickled fetuses, radical human deformities, and bits of Abraham Lincoln's skull. There are no Statues of Liberty, Disneyworlds, or Grand Canyons in this collection of some of America's most unusual and anonymous delights. Many have never before been written of, except in regional publications of limited scope and circulation. Almost all are virtually unknown outside their immediate vicinities or states. You may find yourself recognizing a particular name, cultural relationship, or historical fact here or there, but you'll probably not know the whole story. Included in the 101 destinations covering all 50 states and the District of Columbia are battlefields, graves, miniature worlds, scenic drives and hikes, natural formations and curiosities, national and state parks, mansions, historic sites, nature and wildlife preserves, deserted islands, Indian reservations, gardens, inexplicable mysteries, religious shrines, museums honoring traditional accomplishments and one-of-a-kind eccentricities, reconstructed villages, manufacturing sites, underground worlds, hidden sites in the middle of nowhere, and corners of forgotten importance within America's largest city. Some are breathtakingly beautiful; others are frighteningly bizarre. All are memorably unique. Legendary figures stand shoulder to shoulder with those whom time has forgotten: Buffalo Bill Cody and his mountaintop resting place; William Gillette and his quirky castle; Franklin D.
Early August, 1799. A wilderness clearing along the Mud River...a few miles northeast of Russellville, a small town in the vast, nearly unbroken frontier of western Kentucky. A pioneer family has stopped to rest. Two men. Three women. Three babies. A string of pack horses. It has been an exhausting journey, a dangerous one at times. The men are about thirty, the women some five to ten years younger. Each woman has a baby, her own child. The children, two girls and a boy, range from four to six months in age. The day is hot. The shallow river is cool. Shade trees provide a measure of relief from the sticky humidity, the baking heat. The men stretch out along the banks of the river. The women tend to their children's needs, then place them down and stretch out themselves. Everyone drinks from the stream. They have been traveling forever. Or, at least, it seems that way. They're tired. They just want to rest before they must move out again, always pushing on, always in search of their destination in an unforgivingly harsh wilderness, battling tremendous odds against their very survival. They carry all their worldly possessions with them. True pioneers, they live off the land, taking from it what they need to eke out another day of life in the new American world of democracy and free enterprise. Suddenly, one of the babies cries. It is one of the girls, this one only four months old. One of the men rouses himself from his rest. He makes his way to the crying infant. The man is both a husband and a father, and he is with his family. A touching scene seems about to ensue. A father lovingly tending his irritable child all alone in the wilderness. A loving man doting on his daughter's needs. He picks the child up. But this is no ordinary family. And this is no ordinary man. The man is Micajah Harp, and he is wanted by the law. Even at this moment, there is a price on his head, and posses are after him. They might hear the wail of the infant and swoop down on the family and arrest them. Micajah must do something. He must silence the baby. He picks the child up by her feet and swings her against the side of the tree. Her head smashes against the unrelenting wood. The breath of life leaves her instantly. He then tosses the lifeless body into the woods. He signals the rest of the family to rise to their feet. They do so, and the family moves deeper into the wilderness. They are the Harps. America's first and most brutal serial killers. God help anyone who gets in their way. *********************************************************** They were "the most brutal monsters of the human race" to those who knew them...ruthless and indiscriminate barbarians terrorizing an innocent America...unconscionable brutes inflicting savagery upon anyone they encountered. They sought little in life save the very survival necessary to maintain their bloodlust. It mattered little where or with whom they lived. They cheated and tormented at will and killed for the sake of killing. Their adult lives became a continual exercise in abject, unrepentant evil. During a reign of horror engulfing Kentucky, Tennessee, and Illinois, they became the scourge of the late 18th-century American frontier. They killed anywhere from two dozen to four dozen men, women, and children before justice caught up with them. They were the historical prototypes of later killers - Billy the Kid, Bonnie and Clyde, and Jeffrey Dahmer - but they far exceeded them in brutality and criminal enormity. They were the Harps...Micajah, the older and bigger; Wiley, the younger and smaller...Big Harp and Little Harp, as they were commonly called. And they were America's first serial killers. This is their story. "Blood in the Wilderness: The Story of the Harps, America's First Serial Killers" includes a bibliography of seventy-five sources. It results from years of research and visits to all the sites associated with t
Bygone Binghamton Remembering People and Places of the Past Volume One is a peoples history of some of the most memorable persons, events, and landmarks of the Binghamton area in modern times. It includes the personal memories in their own words of hundreds of people crosschecked, whenever possible, by letters, newspapers, scrapbooks, and personal files. Its many chapters focus on well-remembered restaurants, Mom and Pop grocery stores, ice cream and penny candy places, dairies, and bakeries. It tells, for the first time, the origins of the famous sauce served at Little Venice, the secret wartime exploits of the man who founded Pinos, the background of the Pig Stands, the long-repressed World War II horrors experienced by a young boy who grew up to own the Schnitzelbank, and the married couple who gave Pat Mitchell his start in the ice cream business. Local companies like GAF/Ansco/Ozalid, General Electric, and the Erie Shops are profiled. The founding, heyday, and history of IBM in Endicott are explored. The chapter on Endicott Johnson is a small book in itself and provides information never before published. The once-flourishing downtown shopping districts come to life once again in the words of those who remember them. The notorious Clinton Street Run lives again in the stories of people who attempted it. Drazens, Philadelphia Sales, and Lescrons are among the highlighted stores. Former newspapers and magazines and some of the most beloved or controversial writers Tom Cawley, Gene Grey, Lou Parrillo are recalled.
The Dock of Broken Dreams is the story of the tragic intermingling of the lives of Peggy Shippen, Peggy Chew, John Andr, and Benedict Arnold set amidst the background of the Revolutionary War. Though cast in the form of a novel, it results from more than a decade of careful research.
An innovative, vividly illustrated chronicle explores humankind's struggle to subdue nature's most primal and destructive force--from Rome 64 AD to the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001.
Early August, 1799. A wilderness clearing along the Mud River...a few miles northeast of Russellville, a small town in the vast, nearly unbroken frontier of western Kentucky. A pioneer family has stopped to rest. Two men. Three women. Three babies. A string of pack horses. It has been an exhausting journey, a dangerous one at times. The men are about thirty, the women some five to ten years younger. Each woman has a baby, her own child. The children, two girls and a boy, range from four to six months in age. The day is hot. The shallow river is cool. Shade trees provide a measure of relief from the sticky humidity, the baking heat. The men stretch out along the banks of the river. The women tend to their children's needs, then place them down and stretch out themselves. Everyone drinks from the stream. They have been traveling forever. Or, at least, it seems that way. They're tired. They just want to rest before they must move out again, always pushing on, always in search of their destination in an unforgivingly harsh wilderness, battling tremendous odds against their very survival. They carry all their worldly possessions with them. True pioneers, they live off the land, taking from it what they need to eke out another day of life in the new American world of democracy and free enterprise. Suddenly, one of the babies cries. It is one of the girls, this one only four months old. One of the men rouses himself from his rest. He makes his way to the crying infant. The man is both a husband and a father, and he is with his family. A touching scene seems about to ensue. A father lovingly tending his irritable child all alone in the wilderness. A loving man doting on his daughter's needs. He picks the child up. But this is no ordinary family. And this is no ordinary man. The man is Micajah Harp, and he is wanted by the law. Even at this moment, there is a price on his head, and posses are after him. They might hear the wail of the infant and swoop down on the family and arrest them. Micajah must do something. He must silence the baby. He picks the child up by her feet and swings her against the side of the tree. Her head smashes against the unrelenting wood. The breath of life leaves her instantly. He then tosses the lifeless body into the woods. He signals the rest of the family to rise to their feet. They do so, and the family moves deeper into the wilderness. They are the Harps. America's first and most brutal serial killers. God help anyone who gets in their way. *********************************************************** They were "the most brutal monsters of the human race" to those who knew them...ruthless and indiscriminate barbarians terrorizing an innocent America...unconscionable brutes inflicting savagery upon anyone they encountered. They sought little in life save the very survival necessary to maintain their bloodlust. It mattered little where or with whom they lived. They cheated and tormented at will and killed for the sake of killing. Their adult lives became a continual exercise in abject, unrepentant evil. During a reign of horror engulfing Kentucky, Tennessee, and Illinois, they became the scourge of the late 18th-century American frontier. They killed anywhere from two dozen to four dozen men, women, and children before justice caught up with them. They were the historical prototypes of later killers - Billy the Kid, Bonnie and Clyde, and Jeffrey Dahmer - but they far exceeded them in brutality and criminal enormity. They were the Harps...Micajah, the older and bigger; Wiley, the younger and smaller...Big Harp and Little Harp, as they were commonly called. And they were America's first serial killers. This is their story. "Blood in the Wilderness: The Story of the Harps, America's First Serial Killers" includes a bibliography of seventy-five sources. It results from years of research and visits to all the sites associated with t
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