Gilded Age!

When I was in high school I had a history teacher who was very passionate  about the Gilded Age – but as I was a callow and feckless youth, I thought it was all boring tycoons and railroads and stuff. Well, it turns out that there’s more to the Gilded Age than trains and big mustaches, and a lot of it is pretty darn interesting. So with belated apologies to my tenth grade history teacher (but I was only fifteen, so cut me some slack), I present a list of not-boring Gilded Age books.

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The Floor of Heaven: a True Tale of the Last Frontier and the Yukon Gold Rush, by Howard Blum – If you ever manage to pull off a spectacular gold heist, don’t try to melt down your ill-gotten gains in a frying pan over your campfire, or you’ll just end up with a gold-plated frying pan – that’s what I learned from this book. There are more prospectors and ruffians than tycoons in these pages, so save this one for when you get tired of bankers and millionaires.

The Murder of the Century: the Gilded Age Crime that Scandalized a City and Sparked the Tabloid Wars, by Paul Collins – Oh, there’s a lot of fun stuff here – bloody ducks (yes, you read that right), a distinctively patterned oilcloth, an army of reporters on bicycles, and best of all – a headless, legless torso with some very unusual identifying marks that couldn’t be discussed in polite company. Ladies, it’ll give you the vapors.

Topsy: the Startling Story of the Crooked-tailed Elephant, P.T. Barnum, and the American Wizard, Thomas Edison, by Michael Daly – Turns out that this one’s a great history of elephants in the United States and of the early days of circuses. Thomas Edison appears mainly as the evil villain (NOTE: the link is a spoiler and is NOT for the faint of heart), though to be fair, everyone was pretty evil to animals in those days. Bonus: Topsy and Edison are also the subjects of an excellent episode of Bob’s Burgers.

Conquering Gotham: a Gilded Age Epic: the Construction of Penn Station and its Tunnels, by Jill Jonnes – The Pennsylvania Railroad was miffed that it couldn’t get its trains into Manhattan like its chief rival, the New York Central Railroad. So with typical Gilded Age bravado they said, “Screw this!” and built a tunnel under the Hudson River. It was very muddy, squishy work. This is a neat book about finance, architecture, engineering, working conditions, and getting the bends.

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America, by Erik Larson – An architect, a serial killer, a world’s fair, an oddly suspenseful low-speed pursuit – good times! If you’re only going to read one book from this list, make it this one. But it’s such a good book that you’ve probably read it already. (Suzy has, and she even mentioned it in an earlier post, which led me to state that “I am pretty sure that every librarian is required to write about The Devil in the White City at least once in their career”).

The Johnstown Flood, by David McCullough – The moral of this story? Rich people make lousy neighbors. A classic combination of history and disaster, with strong local ties. Since the book was originally published in 1968, it’s somehow more tasteful than modern disaster nonfiction, if that makes any sense – as if one can be tasteful about people burning to death in huge piles of flood wreckage. Still, good stuff.

AC/DC: the Savage Tale of the First Standards War, by Tom McNichol – For those of you who’d like a little science with your tycoons and mustaches, we present Thomas Edison vs. local favorite George Westinghouse (with a little assistance from the nerd’s nerd, Nikola Tesla) in an electrical battle for the ages. Somehow we manage to go from electrocuting dogs (lots of dogs, reader beware) to the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair (re: The Devil in the White City) in slightly less than two hundred pages. It’s probably the shortest book on this list but it’s well worth the effort.

Passing Strange: a Gilded Age Tale of Love and Deception Across the Color Line, by Martha A. Sandweiss – Fancypants white geologist Clarence King (one of the most blond-haired, blue-eyed people ever) was able to live a second, secret life with his black wife and their mixed-race children simply by creating a second identity and telling people that he was black. Apparently, that (and some clever scheduling) was all it took. Rather heavy on details from King’s point of view, as his wife (Ada Copeland) wasn’t in a position to leave a mark on history, to put it gently.

In the Kingdom of Ice: the Grand and Terrible Polar Voyage of the U.S.S. Jeannette, by Hampton Sides – Any book that has people freezing to death in it is all right by me. This super fun book relates the chilly seafaring tale of an arctic expedition funded by eccentric (like, pees-in-your-piano eccentric) publishing tycoon Gordon Bennet. Things start out well – they spend lots and lots of money on supplies and a ship, pick up a whole mess of sled dogs (and give them amusing names), and head north. But then their newfangled Edison arc lights don’t work, the ship is crushed by the arctic ice pack, someone has a raging syphilis infection, people are forced to eat their pants, and it’s all downhill from there.

Meet You in Hell: Andrew Carnegie, Henry Clay Frick, and the Bitter Partnership that Transformed America, by Les Standiford – More local heroes. I’m gonna be honest here and tell you that I read this one a while ago, and I can’t remember any particularly fun anecdotes other than maybe “Alexander Berkman is a lousy assassin.” But there’s a really good overview of the Homestead Strike, for those of you who (like me) zoned out for this particular chapter in our local history. Gunfights on barges would liven up any history lesson, right?

The Richest Woman in America: Hetty Green in the Gilded Age, by Janet Wallach – Hetty Green was the daughter of a New England Quaker family, the original People Who Don’t Take Anyone’s Crap. And Hetty spent the rest of her life refusing to take anyone’s crap – and amassed a spectacular fortune in the process. Just read it.

A Disposition to Be Rich: How a Small-Town Pastor’s Son Ruined an American President, Brought on a Wall Street Crash, and Made Himself the Best-Hated Man in the United States, by Geoffrey C. Ward – Ferdinand Ward was, by all accounts, a smooth operator and a complete jerk – but to be fair, his parents were pretty jerky, too. Things start out slowly, as there’s a lot of religious and family history to wade through, but it really picks up when our little Ferd moves to the big city. This account was penned by his great-grandson, most widely known for his work on the PBS documentary series The Civil War (and apparently not a jerk).

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These last few books are not quite Gilded Age; they’re early 1900s. But they’re pretty darn close, they have a lot of Gilded Age influences, and they’re super fun (“super fun” being a relative term).

Sin in the Second City: Madams, Ministers, Playboys, and the Battle for America’s Soul, by Karen Abbott – A romp through the seamier side of Chicago that focuses on the high-class Everleigh club and the sisters who ran it. You’ll learn the origin of that “drinking champagne from a shoe” thing and some inappropriate things to do with gold coins. This book ties in nicely with The Devil in the White City and is nearly as awesome, though not nearly as murdery.

Empty Mansions: the Mysterious Life of Huguette Clark and the Spending of a Great American Fortune, by Bill Dedman – Huguette Clark, the daughter of a wealthy senator, lived in her own little world and never wanted things to change. It’s the story of a lonely woman who was never really independent, who never learned the value of a dollar, and who was severely taken advantage of by her caretakers before her death. Part sentimental, part pathetic, and entirely fascinating (if you need more convincing, Eric wrote an excellent post about this book last year).

American Eve: Evelyn Nesbit, Stanford White, the Birth of the “It” Girl, and the Crime of the Century, by Paula Uruburu – Another one with a local connection! Somewhat batty Harry Kendall Thaw, son of a Pittsburgh coal baron, marries turn-of-the-century hottie Evelyn Nesbit. He learns of her past affair with fancypants architect (and somewhat pervy) Stanford White, and shoots him in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Trials and scandals and secrets and madness abound.

– Amy, who didn’t have access to interesting nonfiction when she was in high school

It’s Scary Because It’s True.

Spooooky Dravo Cemetery

The ideal time to find out you are camping next to a haunted cemetery is around midnight, after you’ve had lots of beer and are twenty-five miles away from home and on a bicycle. The patrons of June Bug’s Restaurant & Bar in Sutersville were alternately amused and horrified that we were camping next to “Stringtown Cemetery.” According to local legend you can hear babies crying (only if you are a man and only after midnight) and other disturbing sounds. Supernatural Lore of Pennsylvania: Ghosts, Miracles and Monsters writes that you may be chased by a two-headed astral dog from Satan or feel sudden, unexplained cold winds caused by a ghost train. (Brief history of Dravo Cemetery, if you’re interested.)

But you know what scares me more than two-headed Satan dogs? Humans.

True Horror

Helter-Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders, Vincent Bugliosi

Even 45 years later, the Manson Family murders have the power to fascinate and chill. In 1969 Los Angeles experienced a series of random murders, including the brutal stabbing of pregnant actress Sharon Tate and the seemingly unrelated murder of grocery store owners, Leno and Rosemary LaBianca . Written by the prosecutor of 1970 trial of Charles Manson, Helter-Skelter is a firsthand account of the cases of Manson, Susan Atkins, Patricia Krenwinkel, and other members of the”Manson Family.”

Anne Perry and the Murder of the Century, Peter Graham

Did you know Anne Perry (the author) is a murderer? In 1954, Juliet Hulme (now Anne Perry) and her best friend, Pauline Parker went for a walk in the woods with Parker’s mother, Honora. Honora Parker was later found “accidentally” bludgeoned to death with a brick. Both girls confessed and were convicted of the crime. Why did they do it? Because Honora Parker wanted to keep them apart. After serving five years in prison, Anne Perry went on to have a successful writing career. See the murder on film in the Peter Jackson directed Heavenly Creatures, starring Kate Winslet as Juliet Hulme.

The Zodiac Killer: Terror and Mystery, Brenda Haugen

After Jack the Ripper, the Zodiac Killer is one of the great unsolved serial killers in history. Starting in 1966 with the murder of student Cheri Jo Bates, the Zodiac killer claims to have murdered 37 people, but investigators believe his victim count was seven, two of whom survived. Taunting the police with cryptic notes and strange cyphers, police eventually ruled out over 2500 potential suspects. The one fingerprint found on a letter has never been matched to a suspect. In 2014 Gary Stewart released a book, The Most Dangerous Animal of All, where he claims that the Zodiac Killer is his biological father, Earl Van Best. As of right now there has never been a definitive DNA test and so it’s still officially unsolved.

The Devil in the White City, Erik Larson

Dr. Henry Howard Holmes is one of the first documented serial killers in American history. He designed an entire hotel with murder in mind. A murder “castle” using multiple builders, so no one knew the exact plan of the building. Except him. It was a perfect killing ground full of soundproof, windowless rooms to suffocate people, gas lines to asphixiate, and a convenient chute to the basement for dead bodies (where even more atrocities occured.) Capitalizing on the crowds converging on Chicago for the 1893 World’s Fair, Holmes eventually confessed to murdering 27 people. However, it’s likely his body count is close to 200.

Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith, Jon Krakauer

Krakauer combines a history of the Mormon Church with the investigation of a jarring double murder in this devastating book. In 1984 Brenda Lafferty and her infant daughter, Erica, are discovered with their throats brutally cut. Delving into the dark world of the FLDS Krakauer recounts the “revelations” received by Lafferty’s own brother-in-law: revelations that required her “removal” for several offenses, as well as the underlying religious extremism that caused Ron and Dan Lafferty to romanticize and justify killing for God.

Friendlier in the morning.

For the record, we never heard any babies crying, we never saw any kind of dog, astral or otherwise, and all the trains we heard were real. The worst part of the trip was cold feet- because I forgot socks.

Happy Halloween!

suzy

France in My Pants

I wasn’t scheduled to post today, but I volunteered to do so on one condition: that I could call my post “France in My Pants.” Fortunately, our gracious editor accepted my terms, so here we are.

Okay, there are pants in these books. But they aren’t my pants.

I must confess that this post isn’t really about pants, it’s about France in the late 1800s and the early days of forensics and murdering and stuff – so if you want to stop reading now, I won’t be offended. For those of you who’d like to carry on, away we go!

Oooh, shiny.

Eiffel’s Tower, by Jill Jonnes – Did you know that Gustav Eiffel had a swanky little apartment at the top of the Eiffel tower? He did! It was fully furnished with artwork, velvet fringed divans, and even a piano. (p. 152 and 237). And did you know that the tower had its own newspaper? It did! During the 1889 Paris Exposition, Le Figaro printed a daily special edition of their newspaper (Le Figaro de la Tour) in a tiny office on the tower’s second floor (p. 46).

This book is both a friendly romp through the history and construction of the tower and a nice general introduction to some of the Exposition’s famous visitors. Where else can you learn about the difficulties of constructing elevators that travel up and sideways at the same time? Where else can you learn about Annie Oakley’s living quarters and how Thomas Edison became an Italian count? Where else can you discover how the good people of Paris reacted to that most American of constructions, the Corn Palace? Spoiler: thumbs down (p. 125).

The tower itself was a parade of famous people – visitors included the Prince and Princess of Wales (who came even though Queen Victoria had called for a boycott of the fair), Isabella II of Spain, King George of Greece, not-yet Czar of Russia Nicholas II, and (almost) the Shah of Persia – his courage failed him on his first attempt to climb the tower, and he didn’t get far on his second visit before descending “as fast as his legs could carry him, and unassisted by any native dignity or borrowed decorum” (p. 187). Well, at least he tried.

Photographs scattered throughout the book show the early phases of the tower’s construction, which really puts the whole scale of the operation (and the Shah’s fears) into perspective.  Of course, there are the requisite images of the designers and engineers of the tower and the Exposition, but you’ll also come across a few spiffy interior shots of the exhibition halls and a charming picture of Buffalo Bill and some of his Native American employees enjoying a gondola ride in Venice (p. 278).

Note: If you’re only here for happy books, this would be a good place to stop reading.

There’s a bloodstain on the cover, in case you couldn’t tell that this is a murdery book.

The Killer of Little Shepherds, by Douglas Starr – Catching serial killers is hard work, especially in the French countryside, especially in the late 1800s, especially when the local police departments don’t talk to each other, and especially when there are no standards for collecting and analyzing evidence. But you’ll see how science (yay, science!) overcomes all of these obstacles in this book, which tells the parallel stories of Joseph Vacher (our killer) and Dr. Alexandre Lacassagne (a pioneer in the field of forensic medicine).

Vacher was a soldier who didn’t take rejection well – he started his violent career by proposing to a young housemaid on their first date and shooting her in the face when she rejected him (p. 5). She survived; he went on to commit at least eleven murders – well, he confessed to eleven, though he was suspected of more than twenty-five (p. 148).

Lacassange,  a professor at the University of Lyon, worked with his students to compile a pocket-sized guide to pretty much every crime everywhere. His book became an indispensable tool for doctors and investigators – with its assistance, they could be sure of collecting evidence that would stand up in court (p. 45). He was also apparently the first person to use the rifling marks on a bullet to link it to a particular gun, way  back in 1888 (p.46)!

This book also contains many sensational newspaper illustrations of crime scene reenactments, scattered body parts, dramatic autopsies, handwriting samples, and a very discreet photograph of Vacher’s severed head. Something for everyone, really.

Look! It’s that shiny tower thingy again!

Little Demon in the City of Light, by Steven Livingston – Can a person be held accountable for a crime that they committed while hypnotized? That’s the underlying question in our final book, the story of the murder of Toussaint-Augustin Gouffe, a wealthy and swanky fellow done in by his intended mistress, Gabrielle Bompard.

At the time of the murder, Gabrielle was supposedly acting under the influence of her lover – con man, hypnotist, and all around creepy fellow Michel Eyraud (seriously – he was like, twenty years older than her. And while they were on the lam, he made her pose first as his son and then as his daughter).

The crime took place in Paris in 1889 (the year the Eiffel Tower opened), and Gouffe’s body was discovered in Lyon, where it was identified by Dr. Alexandre Lacassagne (the previously noted forensic medicine chap). See how nicely everything comes together? But alas, I’m still reading this one, so I’m afraid I don’t have many more details for you. So far, it’s fascinating stuff.

Like The Killer of Little Shepherds, this book also features a fun variety of illustrations and photographs. There are quite a few fancy mustaches, the bloody trunk that once contained Gouffe’s corpse, and a very tasteful picture of his remains (so don’t read this one on your lunch break).

– Amy, friend of pants, science, and history

Murder Most Charming

The First Floor: New and Featured section of the Main library has a pretty epic graphic novel collection. That’s where I first came upon the works of Rick Geary, who writes and illustrates A Treasury of Victorian Murder and A Treasury of XXth Century Murder, two of the most delightful historical true crime series that’ll you’ll ever find (though to be fair, I’m not sure that he has a lot of competition in this arena).

I’ve read them all a few times, and always pounce on the new titles as soon as they come in. Here are a few of my favorites, in no particular order.

That is not a trustworthy mustache.

The Beast of Chicago: an Account of the Life and Crimes of Herman W. Mudgett, Known to the World as H.H. Holmes – This character may sound familiar to you. It’s because he’s the Devil in Erik Larson’s most excellent book, The Devil in the White City. If you want both murder and lengthy digressions about architecture, read Larson’s book. If you want to get right down to business, read Geary’s book instead – there’s more than enough historical detail in here to make it both educational and an exciting romp. For the best of both worlds, you should (of course) read both books. This one really helped me picture the events described in The Devil in the White City, because, well, pictures. There are excellent diagrams of Holmes’ bizarre mansion, illustrations of Chicago and the World’s Fair, and maps of Holmes’ final flight. Good stuff all around.

(Bonus: Here’s a DVD about architectin’, and here’s one about murderin’. Because I belong to the Film & Audio department and have to work this stuff in somewhere.)

The Borden Tragedy: a Memoir of the Infamous Double Murder at Fall River, Mass., 1892 – Before I read this book, all I knew about Lizzie Borden could be summarized as “Lizzie Borden took an axe, something something something.” But after reading just the title of this book, my Internal Borden Murder Fact Database instantly tripled in size! And once you crack open the covers, there’s even more good stuff – Borden’s mother wasn’t murdered, it was her stepmother. Borden’s father didn’t believe in hallways, so their house looked really weird (the floor plans are mighty confusing). Mrs. Borden died while cleaning the guest bedroom (19 blows), and Mr. Borden died while napping in the sitting room (10 blows). The back cover even lists the similarities between Lizzie’s case and that of the formerly illustrious O.J. Simpson.

Copyright 1997 by Rick Geary!

Those two are pretty famous cases, like most of the titles in the series – there are books about the Lindbergh kidnapping, Jack the Ripper, and the assassinations of presidents Lincoln and Garfield, to name a few. But there are others – cases that were famous in their day but aren’t remembered now, like the murder of actor and director William Desmond Taylor, the trial of poisoner Madeline Smith, and the story of the Bender family, described below.

Hospitable looking, aren’t they?

The Saga of the Bloody Benders: the Infamous Homicidal Family of Labette County, Kansas – The Bender family (mother, father, son, and daughter) appeared in Kansas in 1870, purchased land near a local trail, and set up a small inn and grocery store to attract the business of people travelling west. Over the next three years or so travelers and locals alike started to disappear, usually after last visiting the Bender property. The family themselves vanished just when the townsfolk decided to start investigating – and then all sorts of things came to light: a missing man’s glasses, an odd assortment of hammers, a blood-soaked basement floor, and a collection of shallow graves. Ew.

If you enjoy true crime, unhappy books, Victorian history, cool illustrations, and gruesome facts, these are the books for you. Or if you have a slightly morbid reluctant reader (with strong nerves) in your home, introduce him (her/it/them) to Rick Geary. His books are educational, beautifully illustrated, and creepy good fun.

– Amy

Murder in Miniature

Frances Glessner Lee was an avid builder of dollhouses, which was a perfectly reasonable pastime a woman in her walk of life, born into a wealthy family and with no formal education or career. But her dollhouses were a bit different – each of the painstakingly detailed dioramas depicted a murder scene.

Fred Barnes went out to run an errand and returned to find his wife Robin dead on the kitchen floor. Image from the New York Times slideshow, “Visible Proofs: Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death.”

She created the “Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death” in the 1930s – 1950s (no one’s really precise about the dates) as teaching tools for police detectives. But why dollhouses? Well, you can’t schedule training sessions around real murders, after all. And you certainly don’t want an entire class of budding detectives tromping through a crime scene and disturbing the evidence.

Farmer Eben Wallace’s wife found him hanging in the barn. Image from the New York Times slideshow, “ Visible Proofs: Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death.”

Lee’s interest in crime and medicine was sparked by a meeting with her brother’s college friend Dr. George Magrath, who later became Harvard’s first professor of legal medicine (his salary was underwritten by her fortune). She even established a library in his name. It’s nice to have money like that.

Ms. Wilby Jenks was found dead in the woodman’s shack that she shared with two men. Image from the New York Times slideshow, “Visible Proofs: Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death.”

• For more photographs, a brief biography of Frances Gessner Lee, and further details about each murder scene, read The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death by Corinne May Botz. We don’t have it in our county library system (yet), but it’s readily available through Interlibrary Loan. (Note: this book has the most awesome endpaper ever.)
• While you’re waiting for your Interlibrary Loan to come in, be sure to visit Corrine May Botz’s website, which contains pictures not featured in her book. Maggie Wilson’s corpse, found in the bathtub of her rooming house, is particularly creepy.
• Still need more pictures? Visit the Bellwether Gallery to see a 2004 exhibition of Botz’s photographs.
• We’ve also recently ordered a DVD called Of Dolls and Murder, which is all about the Nutshell Studies. It’s not available for checkout yet (alas), but you can still request it. You’ll have to get in line behind me, though. (Here’s the film’s website, if you can’t stand the suspense.)
• There’s a lengthy essay about Lee and her work in tru TV’s crime library. Not really a source that I’d quote in a research paper, but it does at least contain a pretty decent bibliography.
• For something a bit more concise (and probably a bit more accurate), try this piece from Harvard Magazine.
• Finally, you can visit the blog of the Glessner House Museum, Frances Glessner Lee’s childhood home. When you read through it, you’ll see many of the names and places that Corrine May Botz references in her book.

– Amy

And the Ladies Have It

Welcome spring, and welcome Suzy–please enjoy the first blog post from our newest contributor, who will be joining us monthly in the writing staff rotation.

For Women’s History Month I wanted to honor the “bad” girls of history. Then I got hung up on the definition of “bad” in this case. Do I mean bad like Nell Gwyn, orange-seller, comedienne and long-time mistress of King Charles II of England? Or bad like Countess Elizabeth Báthory de Ecsed, one of the most prolific serial killers of all time and fan of bathing in virgin blood? Both ladies are fascinating, but there are degrees of bad. I think Gwyn’s amorous misdemeanors sort of pale in comparison to murdering 600 people. But I’m judgy like that.

So, being the scientific chick that I am, I chose my favorites.  Without further ado, my top 10 bad girls of history:

 Nell Gwyn –Reputed to have told her coachman fighting for her honor, “I am a whore. Find something else to fight about.” Gwyn’s feisty wit and lusty personality are the reason King Charles II, on his deathbed, begged his brother, “Let not poor Nelly starve.” And she didn’t.

Cleopatra–Sure, she was an amazing administrator and Egypt’s culture and economy flourished under her reign. But she murdered her own brother and sister to become the Queen of Egypt! She was the mistress of Julius Caesar and Mark Antony! She swallowed a priceless pearl to demonstrate her wealth!

 Elizabeth Bathory–As mentioned above, killed 600 people in pretty gruesome fashion. 600 PEOPLE. That’d be like killing all of my Facebook friends. Twice.

Bonnie Parker–I freak out if I get pulled over for speeding. Parker was involved in at least one hundred felony criminal actions during her two-year career in crime. This includes, but is not limited to, kidnapping, murder, armed robbery and one major jail break. She also chain-smoked Camels.

Mae West–The very first play she wrote (“Sex”) got her convicted on a morals charge. But the lady who said, “Those who are easily shocked should be shocked more often,” was an instant success and never looked back.

Marie Antoinette–Hopefully we all know by now that Marie Antoinette never said, “Let them eat cake.” But she wasn’t that into helping the starving masses either. And she really, really, really, really liked clothes.

Margaret Sanger–Considering the current controversy over birth control and woman’s health, we ladies may need to channel the spirit of Sanger in 2012. She promoted the pill before the pill existed. And got tossed in the clink for it.

Anne Boleyn–Did she sleep with her brother? And a poet? And a groom? Did she really commit treason?  I don’t know, but she had six fingers and a killer sense of style.

Lucretzia Borgia–Again with the incest. But also a poisoner!

Wallis Simpson–King Edward VII of the United Kingdom abdicated his throne to marry her. Enough said.

Your turn–who’s your favorite “bad” girl? 

–Suzy

The Dark Side of History*

I admit that I don’t like to read historical true crime; still, it both fascinates and repels me. What makes some people think and do the terrible things they do?  My own dear sweet mother is a true crime junkie (she’s read more than I can count) but I’ve had my fill with these books. The very few I have read include high profile as well as some obscure cases. The key ingredients for me in reading non-fiction have always been the historical aspect and the quality of the writing. The following books have both in abundance.

 The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule. I’m a child of the 1970s and, for some reason, I seem to remember a lot of missing persons/serial killer headlines (and one from my childhood in particular, the Oakland County child killer, is still unsolved). One Ann Rule book is plenty for me and this case is the one that started it all for her as the queen of the true crime genre. Rule grew up in my home state of Michigan; her grandfather was a sheriff in a small northern Michigan town, and she was also a police officer, thus her interest in the human psyche. But nothing prepared her for the horror of realizing that the handsome, friendly young man she worked with at a suicide hotline crisis center in the 1970s was Ted Bundy, the serial killer responsible for the disappearance and murder of an unknown number of young women. I admit I skipped the gruesome parts of this gripping book but I liked how Rule put a very chilling spin on her telling of the crimes committed by someone she knew.

Girls of Tender Age: A Memoir by Mary-Ann Tirone Smith. Smith is a mystery novelist but I’ve only read this poignant memoir of her 1950s childhood punctuated by the disappearance and murder of a classmate. In addition to the parallel stories of both the victim and the suspect, Smith tells of the experience and challenge of growing up with an autistic brother and its impact on her life and family.

 A Death in Belmont by Sebastian Junger. This is a very creepy story. In 1960s suburban Boston, a serial killer known only as the Boston Strangler murders a housewife in broad daylight in Junger’s childhood neighborhood. Interweaving the trail of the murderer with events from his own life, acclaimed non-fiction author Junger (The Perfect Storm) reveals that a handyman named Albert De Salvo confessed to the crimes, the same man who did some work for his mother on the day of the Belmont murder.

Arc of Justice: a Saga of Race, Civil Rights, and Murder in the Jazz Age by Kevin Boyle. Imagine the excitement of buying your very first house. Now imagine feeling intimidated because you are black and you purchased your house in an all-white neighborhood. Ossian Sweet, a man separated by one generation from slavery, was a successful doctor in 1920s Detroit. With his wife and young child, he eagerly moved into their new home. So began a reign of terror that culminated in shots and left a neighborhood white man dead. This little known case was defended by star attorney Clarence Darrow and the very sad story will stay with you long after the book ends.

 The Red Parts: a Memoir by Maggie Nelson. Okay, I’m beginning to notice a pattern here. I most likely was attracted to some of these books for both their Michigan connections as well as the fact that they are mostly memoirs. From 1967-69, young women in the Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti (in Michigan) area disappeared and were later found murdered. Nelson’s aunt was one victim and, at first, it was thought she was yet another victim of the so-called Michigan Murders. Nelson, a poet, recounts the impact the murder had on her family and her life growing up, and her own interest in the case. Coincidentally, while working on a poetry book as a tribute to her aunt, a break in the case finally brought closure for the family.

~Maria

*This is the third in a series of historical non-fiction books I’ve enjoyed reading and recommending.