Hometown History

On January 14, 1904, Havre, Montana burned twice in one day. The first fire started in the back of Gross and Lebert's hardware store with a chinook wind still blowing. The second came around noon, when a clerk at the Stringfellow Drug Store opened the trap door to the cellar and got a face full of smoke. The rush of air lit what had been smoldering below, and it went east through the block, ta...

In 1871, two Kentucky drifters named Philip Arnold and John Slack walked into a San Francisco mining broker's office carrying a buckskin pouch of rough stones: diamonds, rubies, and sapphires they claimed to have pulled out of American soil. What followed was one of the most audacious swindles in American history. By Asbury Harpending's account, the stones were pronounced genuine by Charle...

Shawneetown, Illinois was laid out in 1810, which makes it one of the oldest towns in the state. Before Illinois was a state, this was already a place. Two things put it on the map: salt from the works nearby, back when no household or smokehouse could run without it, and the Ohio River, which in 1810 was the interstate. If you were moving people or freight through the middle of the country you mo...

In the summer of 1942, Pascagoula, Mississippi, was a quiet Gulf Coast town that the Ingalls Shipbuilding yard had turned into a wartime boomtown almost overnight. That summer someone began cutting through window screens at night, slipping into bedrooms, and snipping locks of hair from sleeping residents. Local newspapers called him the Phantom Barber. He first struck on June 5, 1942, taking hair...

On October 8, 1871, a wall of flame moving faster than a galloping horse descended on Peshtigo, Wisconsin, a lumber town built entirely of wood. Wooden sidewalks, wooden bridges, sawdust-packed roads, and heaps of bark and mill waste surrounded a population of two thousand people, nearly all of them employed by William Butler Ogden's woodenware factory, the largest in the country. That night a...

In mid-November 1934, a twenty-year-old artist named Everett Ruess led two burros into the canyon country south of Escalante, Utah. He carried journals, watercolors, and enough provisions for two months. He had spent four years wandering the desert Southwest alone, painting, writing letters that read like poetry, and meeting artists like Ansel Adams and Dorothea Lange along the way. He shared a la...

On the evening of July 1, 1889, Passenger Train Number Two pulled out of Roanoke, Virginia, bound east through the Blue Ridge. It was a through train, New Orleans to New York, already running late, with Engine Number Thirty at the head and 74 people aboard, 56 passengers and a crew of 18. Among them were three young men from Cleveland, Tennessee, in the first-class coach: William Steed, a thirty-y...

In May 1927, the small farming community of Bath Township, Michigan, suffered the deadliest school attack in American history, and nearly a century later most Americans have never heard of it. Andrew Kehoe, a 55-year-old trained electrician and school board treasurer, spent eight months secretly wiring Bath Consolidated School with more than a thousand pounds of dynamite and military-surplus pyrot...

In the 1960s, Tucker State Prison Farm in Arkansas sat on 4,500 acres of Delta bottomland in Jefferson County. Three hundred inmates worked the cotton and soybean fields under the supervision of armed fellow prisoners, a practice the state called the trusty system. Only eight free-world employees ran the entire facility. Behind the walls of the so-called hospital building, a prison physician named...

In 1975, a construction crew breaking ground for a government complex on West Markham Street in Little Rock, Arkansas, unearthed an estimated three thousand to four thousand bodies buried in shallow, unmarked graves. They were patients of the Arkansas Lunatic Asylum — committed not only for mental illness but for alcoholism, epilepsy, poverty, old age, and conditions as vague as "emotional dif...

In the spring of 1903, attorney James Buchanan Marcum faced a terrible daily calculation in Jackson, Kentucky. For seventy-two days, the most prominent lawyer in Breathitt County refused to leave his own home without his infant son pressed against his chest. The reasoning was as simple as it was horrifying: the men who wanted him dead would not risk shooting a man holding a baby. Marcum had made e...

On April 6, 1936, two tornadoes merged over Gainesville, Georgia, and in just three minutes, killed 203 people, the deadliest tornado in a single building in American history. This is the haunting story of the Cooper Pants Factory disaster and how one catastrophic afternoon changed building codes forever. Gainesville, nestled in the Blue Ridge foothills, was thriving during the Great Depression. K...

In the sweltering summer of 1888, a Tampa saloon keeper named R.D. McCormick stepped off a train in Jacksonville, Florida, carrying something far deadlier than luggage. Within weeks, the disease known as Yellow Jack would transform America's booming winter playground into a quarantined city of the dead, sending refugees fleeing north only to be met with armed guards, locked gates, and threats...

Bessemer City, North Carolina. September 14th, 1929. A flatbed truck kicks up Red Carolina dust on a back road outside Bessemer City. The boards rattle beneath 22 pairs of feet. No one in the truck bed carries a weapon. They are textile workers heading home from a roadblock that turned them around. They did what they were told. They turned back, and the cars behind them kept coming. In that truck...

September, 1912, Forsyth County, Georgia, 30 miles northeast of Atlanta, farming country, red clay roads, pine forests thick enough to block out the afternoon sun. The air sits heavy. It smells like turned earth and wood smoke. More than a thousand black Americans live here. They own land. They go to church. William and Ida Bagley own 60 acres. Grant Smith preaches on Sunday. Children walk to scho...

January 1886, Carrollton, Mississippi, a Saturday afternoon. Two brothers are hauling jugs of molasses from a wagon into a saloon. Heavy earthenware vessels, maybe 20 pounds each, slick with condensation. Ed and Charlie Brown, part African American, part Native American, working men making a delivery. The doorways narrow, someone's coming out as they're going in. Bodies shift, a jug tilts,...

August 1898, Dover, Delaware. The heat of the day has broken, and the air smells of cut grass and warm earth. On the porch of the Pennington family home, Mary Elizabeth Dunning opens a package from the afternoon mail, a box of chocolate bonbons, a Cambric handkerchief, and a note. With love to yourself and baby, Miss C. She passes the candy around. Her sister Ida takes one. Her daughter takes one....

In the woods above Brattleboro, Vermont, a 65-foot stone tower has stood since the 1890s. It was not built by architects or hired masons. It was built by the patients of an insane asylum, stone by stone, under the direction of their doctors who believed that breaking rocks could fix broken minds. But some patients found another use for the tower they had built with their own hands. They climbed it...

You're standing on Route 100 in Waterbury, Vermont, in November 1891. The air smells like wood smoke and coming snow. Behind you, the last maples hold on to their copper leaves. Ahead on a hill that commands the entire valley, workers are laying the final stones on a building that will change everything. The Vermont State Asylum for the Insane. Four stories of red brick, 200 windows catching t...

Riceville, Maine. Somewhere in the forest of eastern Maine, there's a town that no longer exists. It's a summer morning, sometime in the early 1900s. A traveler makes his way down a rutted logging road through dense strands of hemlock and spruce. He's headed for Riceville, a company town built around a tannery on Buffalo Stream. He knows the place. Maybe a hundred people live there. Wo...

In a lighthouse keeper's cottage on Prudence Island, Rhode Island, six people huddle on the floor. It's September 21st, 1938. Outside, a wall of gray-green water is racing across Narragansett Bay, 16 feet of churning ocean pushed by winds exceeding 100 miles per hour. George Gustavus, the lighthouse keeper, stands with his wife Mabel, his 12-year-old son Edward, and three neighbors who cam...

Watch Hill, Rhode Island. It's one o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon in September 1938. Miss John McKisson Camp is hosting a luncheon on the rocks at Weakapog, just east of Watch Hill, Rhode Island. Her guests gather in their summer finest. Linen dresses, straw hats, the quiet elegance you'd expect from old money families who've summered here for generations. Someone mentions that t...

Deal Beach, New Jersey. It's 6.10 on the morning of November 13th, 1854, and the gale-force winds that rattled windows all night have driven the few families of Deal Beach from their beds. Through the fog and driving rain, they see her. A massive three-masted clipper ship, full sails still set, stuck hard on the outer sandbar, just 500 yards from shore. The ship's bell. That's what wok...

January 14, 1913. Hazardville, Connecticut. A winter morning at the old powder mills, now operating under the Hercules Powder name for exactly 30 days. Workers Charles Blunden and Jacob Stocker went about their routines, same as they had for years. The machinery hummed. The river flowed past stone walls built to contain disasters. Then four blasts ripped through the mill in rapid succession. The s...

Ord, Nebraska. January 12th, 1888. Morning. A one-room schoolhouse six miles south of Ord, Nebraska. 40 degrees in January. Unseasonably warm. The morning where farm kids arrive without their heavy coats because it feels like spring decided to show up three months early. Minnie Freeman, 19 years old, is teaching her first real class. 13 students, ages 6 to 14. And there's Frankie Gibbon in the...