Bøger udgivet af Louisiana State University Press

"Residents of the American South played a crucial and, at times, decisive role in the American war in Vietnam. President Lyndon B. Johnson and Secretary of State Dean Rusk oversaw the military escalation of the conflict and the persistent U.S. rejection of a compromise settlement with North Vietnam and the Vietcong. Influential U.S. Senators Richard B. Russell and John C. Stennis endorsed and promoted aggressive prosecution of the war, ensured the conflict's funding, and helped enable Johnson and Nixon to extend the duration of the increasingly unpopular war. U.S. Army General William Westmoreland instituted vital strategies such as 'search and destroy' while directing the war through most of Johnson's presidency. Moreover, while young southern men served and died in Vietnam in numbers well beyond the region's percentage of the national population, most white southerners consistently endorsed the belligerent inclinations and actions of the U.S. In doing so, they provided an essential domestic political foundation for the Vietnam War. Joseph Fry's 'Letters from the Southern Homefront' explores public opinion in the American South--the nation's most prowar region during the Vietnam War--by examining letters sent by hundreds of residents to their senators, Presidents Johnson and Nixon, and the editors of major newspapers. They ranged in age from elementary school students to World War I veterans. They were white and Black; male and female; rural, small-town, and urban; sharecroppers, farmers, small business owners, teachers, doctors, lawyers, college students, and university professors; rich and poor. They discussed an impressive range of war-related issues and topics, including U.S. geopolitical and strategic interests; U.S. standing in the world; the containment of international communism; appropriate U.S. military strategies; civilian versus military oversight and control; national honor; patriotism; religion; the draft and its class and racial impacts; domestic protests against the war and questions of law and order; the Civil Rights Movement; POWs; the job performance of national and regional leaders; and the cumulative war-weariness so crucial to U.S. withdrawal from Vietnam. By investing the time, thought, emotion, and energy to write to a political figure or newspaper editor, they exhibited a greater awareness and knowledge of foreign affairs than most southerners. This attention, knowledge, and willingness to write rendered the authors a distinct minority within their communities and nation. Although many of their neighbors and fellow citizens nationally followed the war carefully and held strong opinions regarding the conflict, relatively few of them took the initiative to put pen to paper or sit before their typewriters. As Fry shows, what the letter writers had to say about their support or opposition to the war add to our understanding of the South and the United States as we continue to grapple with the historical record and significance of the Vietnam War"--

"Structured in four sections, Now You Can Join the Others investigates desire's rage and absurdities, and the concentric circles of historical, mythical, and always personal narratives that ripple through our morally beclouded era. Questions of scale ground this second collection by Taije Silverman as poems about betrayal, pregnancy, and familial grief alternate with and expand into poems about catastrophe: Argentina's junta shares space with a child's nap. A birthday party at Chuck. E. Cheese becomes an elegy for Trayvon Martin. A Greek myth won't help contextualize the 2012 rape and dismemberment of a medical student in New Delhi. With acute dissonance, the poems follow shifts of attention and association to reveal how any symbol-whether moon, pigeon, whale, or bed-continuously redefines itself in the intricacies and turns of an individual voice. The poems' settings range as widely as their tones and formal structures: Berlin's Jewish Museum, an Italian roadside motel, Charlottesville's no-longer-extant Lee Park, and Mendocino's headlands provide backdrop for memory, observation, and unexpected confrontation. For all its thematic and rhetorical variety, what unifies the book is a sense of loss of origin, but also a recognition of the origin's inevitably imaginary nature"--

"With In the Shadow of Invisibility, Sterling Lecater Bland Jr. offers a long-overdue reconsideration of Ralph Ellison, examining the trajectory of his intellectual thought in relation to its resonances in twenty-first-century American culture. Bland charts Ellison's evolving attitudes on several central topics including democracy, race, identity, social community, place, and political expression. This compelling new exploration of Ellison's legacy stresses the perpetual need to reexamine the intersections of race, literature, and American culture, with particular attention to how the democratic principle has grown increasingly urgent in the nation's ongoing, and often contentious, conversations about race. Arguing that Ellison saw racial and social identity as being inseparable from the nation's past and its complicated history of racial anxiety, In the Shadow of Invisibility traces the growth and transformation of Ellison's ideas across his life and work, from his early apprentice writing that culminated in his groundbreaking first novel, Invisible Man, through the posthumous publication of his unfinished second novel, Three Days before the Shooting .... Focused on his mythic vision of the promise of America, this book firmly situates Ellison in the sociopolitical environments from which his ideas arose, with close consideration of his published writings, including his influential essays on literature and jazz, as well as his working notes and correspondence. Bland foregrounds Ellison's thinking on the responsibilities of Black writers to examine democratic ideals, the legacies of slavery and Jim Crow, and the impacts of civil rights movements. Interweaving biography, history, and literary criticism, and drawing from extensive archival research, In the Shadow of Invisibility reveals the extent to which Ellison's work exposes the contradictions inherent in American culture, arguing anew for the importance and immediacy of his writings in the broader context of American intellectual thought"--

Shantyboat dwellers and steamboat roustabouts formed an organic part of the cultural landscape of the Mississippi River bottoms during the rise of industrial America and the twilight of steamboat packets from 1875 to 1930. Nevertheless, both groups remain understudied by scholars of the era. Most of what we know about these laborers on the river comes not from the work of historians but from travel accounts, novelists, songwriters, and early film producers. As a result, images of these men and women are laden with nostalgia and minstrelsy. Gregg Andrews's Shantyboats and Roustabouts uses the waterfront squatter settlements and Black entertainment district near the levee in St. Louis as a window into the world of the river poor in the Mississippi Valley, exploring their daily struggles and experiences and vividly describing people heretofore obscured by classist and racist caricatures.

"Brown Pelican, the second book in LSU Press's 'Louisiana True' series of short novelty books about Louisiana culture, tells the history of the brown pelican in order to tell the history of our relationship with nature in Louisiana. We know the pelican as the state bird of Louisiana. Its image adorns our state flag: a mother pelican pierces her left breast with her beak to give a trio of hungry chicks sustenance. It is a symbol that dates back to early Christianity, a literal passion of the pelican, this most human of birds. Most anywhere the brown pelican roosts - along most of the nation's coastal outline - but especially in Louisiana, the bird embodies humankind's relationship with the environment. In 1903, Theodore Roosevelt inaugurated the first National Wildlife Refuge at Pelican Island, Florida. The nation's second wildlife refuge, established the following year, likewise protected birds, principally pelicans, at Louisiana's Breton Island. In postwar America, the ubiquity of the pesticide DDT endangered the species. By the mid-1960s, not one viable pelican nest remained in all of Louisiana. Conservation efforts saved the brown pelican here and elsewhere, heralding one of the great success stories in animal preservation. However, the pelican is again under threat, particularly in lower Louisiana, due to coastal land loss. 'Pelican' combines history, travel, and first-person narrative to complicate, deconstruct, and reassemble our vision of the subject, the region, and ourselves"--

"Carl V. Harris's Segregation in the New South explores the rise of racial exclusion in late nineteenth-century Birmingham, Alabama, a critical southern industrial city. In the 1870s, African Americans in Birmingham were eager to exploit the disarray of slavery's old racial lines, assert their new autonomy, and advance toward full equality. However, most southern whites-elite and non-elite alike-worked to restore the restrictive racial lines of the slave South or invent new ones that would guarantee the subordination of Black residents. From Birmingham's founding in 1871, color lines divided the city, and as its people strove to erase the lines or fortify them, they shaped their futures in fateful ways. Social segregation is at the center of Harris's history. From the beginning of Reconstruction, southern whites engaged in a comprehensive program of assigning social dishonor to African Americans-the same kind of dishonor that whites of the Old South had imposed on Black people while enslaving them. Harris's interpretation emphasizes the importance, even in early Reconstruction, of the white doctrine that Black freedpeople were inherently inferior, had inherited the abysmally low social status of slaves, and had to be rigorously excluded from social fellowship and social institutions. In the process, he reveals, southern whites engaged in constructing the meaning of race in the post-Civil War South. Harris's study draws on an extensive body of research in social psychology rarely utilized by historians, including the creation of group boundaries that illuminate the social construction of races. This model is dynamic, revealing how groups develop and evolve through encounters with other groups. Using this methodology, Harris explores segregation within the social core of southern society, probing the motivations of whites who devised Jim Crow, identifying and assessing the relative importance of transactional versus socio-emotional factors in the origins of discrimination, and discussing the reasons for the prolonged survival of Jim Crow"--

"In The Last Southern Fire-Eater, renowned historian of the American South William Link examines the life of Roger Atkinson Pryor-a Virginia secessionist, Civil War general, and earnest advocate of postwar sectional reconciliation. Link shows that Pryor's life involved a series of re-makings. As a newspaper editor and politician, Pryor began his career as a moderate but eventually enthusiastically endorsed secessionism and war. Unlike most "fire-eaters," the nickname for hyper dis-unionists, Pryor experienced the Civil War in ways in which the brutality of the conflict undermined his assumptions about honor, manhood, and the value of war. In the decades after the conflict, he moved from Virginia to New York City, where, in another remaking, he became a celebrity defense attorney and advocate of reconciliation between North and South. Exploring the paths of an intriguing figure like Pryor allows Link to show that his journey was in many ways like that of the South-puzzling and contradictory. Indeed, Link casts Pryor as a central, perhaps representative figure during a crucial period in southern history between the 1850s and the close of the nineteenth century. Like the South, Pryor remade himself with the changing times. An archetypical southern-rights advocate, Pryor became a skilled practitioner in the politics of honor. Engaging in duels, attempted and genuine, he portrayed the world through the cultural prism of southern honor and assumed a more militant and aggressive stance on slavery than his southern peers. Later, he served prominently in the Civil War, rising to the rank of brigadier general and seeing action across the eastern theater. Captured late in the war, Pryor abandoned his fiery persona and renounced fire-eater extremism. He then moved north to New York City, where he became a prominent lawyer and advocate for the sort of intersectional reconciliation that became a central facet of what southern boosters were calling the New South. As Link shows, Pryor's lifetime encompassed dizzying changes. Born during the presidential administration of John Quincy Adams, he died four months after the end of World War I. He witnessed fundamental transformations in the South in the destruction of slavery, the defeat of the Confederacy, and the redefinition of manhood and honor among elite white men who no longer relied on dueling or personal violence"--

French Connections examines how the movement of people, ideas, and social practices contributed to the complex processes and negotiations involved in being and becoming French in North America and the Atlantic World between the years 1600 and 1875. Engaging a wide range of topics, from religious and diplomatic performance to labor migration, racialization, and both imagined and real conceptualizations of "Frenchness" and "Frenchification," this volume argues that cultural mobility was fundamental to the development of French colonial societies and the collective identities they housed. Cases of cultural formation and dislocation in places as diverse as Quebec, the Illinois Country, Detroit, Haiti, Acadia, New England, and France itself demonstrate the broad variability of French cultural mobility that took place throughout this massive geographical space. Nevertheless, these communities shared the same cultural root in the midst of socially and politically fluid landscapes, where cultural mobility came to define, and indeed sustain, communal and individual identities in French North America and the Atlantic World. Drawing on innovative new scholarship on Louisiana and New Orleans, the editors and contributors to French Connections look to refocus the conversation surrounding French colonial interconnectivity by thinking about mobility as a constitutive condition of culture; from this perspective, separate "spheres" of French colonial culture merge to reveal a broader, more cohesive cultural world. The comprehensive scope of this collection will attract scholars of French North America, early American history, Atlantic World history, Caribbean studies, Canadian studies, and frontier studies. With essays from established, award-winning scholars such as Brett Rushforth, Leslie Choquette, Jay Gitlin, and Christopher Hodson as well as from new, progressive thinkers such as Mairi Cowan, William Brown, Karen L. Marrero, and Robert D. Taber, French Connections promises to generate interest and value across an extensive and diverse range of concentrations.

"Norman Mailer at 100 celebrates the author's centennial in 2023 and the seventy-fifth anniversary of the publication of his bestselling debut novel, The Naked and the Dead, by illustrating how Mailer remains a still provocative presence in American letters. Novelist and Mailer scholar Robert J. Begiebing lays out the extent to which the polymath author's work makes vital contributions to the larger American literary landscape from the debates of the nation's founders, to the traditions of western romanticism, and to the whole juggernaut of twentieth-century modernism. The book presents six critical essays, two creative dialogues featuring Walt Whitman and Ernest Hemingway, and Begiebing's own interview with Mailer from 1983 on his Brooklyn boyhood, his Harvard years, and the composition of his novel Ancient Evenings. Each piece pairs Mailer with a critical interlocutor whose work offers telling revelations about his ideas and art, among them Hemingway, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Carl Jung, Kate Millett, Joan Didion, and the historian Joseph Ellis. These pairings open up discussions of literature and politics encompassing war novels, Jungian self-analysis, second wave feminism and the women's liberation movement, the fragmentation and roiling revolt of the mid-1960s, the search for self-knowledge and inner truth, and how economic inequity and foreign policy can challenge the fundamentals of American democracy. Norman Mailer at 100 presents a new path into the author's life and work by encouraging a reconsideration of his career from his debut novel to his final books in the opening decade of the twenty-first century, underscoring the potential for finding in his work a new pertinence for the challenges of today"--

"This memoir describes how Freddie Pitcher made history in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, by becoming the first Black elected to judgeships at three different levels of the court system. Pitcher recounts his early years in Valley Park-a semi-rural and segregated community-revealing that one of his cousins, a civil rights attorney, served as his role model and inspired him to become both a lawyer and change agent. He depicts what it was like to grow up in the segregated South and how the pangs of racial discrimination fueled his drive to challenge the norms of the Baton Rouge judiciary later in life. Pitcher discusses how he systematically forged together Black political organizations, the Black church community, and a group of white attorneys into a campaign coalition that ultimately helped him overcome the racial barriers that prevented Blacks from ascending to the judiciary in Baton Rouge. He details the strategy used to win seats on both the Baton Rouge City and the 19th Judicial District courts when many said a Black could not win a city- or parish-wide election. He later describes many of the challenges he faced as the first and only Black judge in Baton Rouge while highlighting some of the notable cases he tried and sharing his beliefs about judging and the judicial process. Pitcher's story will provide readers with an informative, educational, and inspirational perspective about how Blacks strove and persevered in their efforts to overcome the many roadblocks to their full participation in the political process related to the judiciary"--

Winner of the 2022 Civil War Books and Authors Book of the Year Award In Soldiers from Experience, Eric Michael Burke examines the tactical behavior and operational performance of Major General William T. Sherman's Fifteenth US Army Corps during its first year fighting in the Western Theater of the American Civil War. Burke analyzes how specific experiences and patterns of meaning-making within the ranks led to the emergence of what he characterizes as a distinctive corps-level tactical culture. The concept--introduced here for the first time--consists of a collection of shared, historically derived ideas, beliefs, norms, and assumptions that play a decisive role in shaping a military command's particular collective approach on and off the battlefield. Burke shows that while military historians of the Civil War frequently assert that generals somehow imparted their character upon the troops they led, Sherman's corps reveals the opposite to be true. Contrary to long-held historiographical assumptions, he suggests the physical terrain itself played a much more influential role than rifled weapons in necessitating tactical changes. At the same time, Burke argues, soldiers' battlefield traumas and regular interactions with southern civilians, the enslaved, and freedpeople during raids inspired them to embrace emancipation and the widespread destruction of Rebel property and resources. An awareness and understanding of this culture increasingly informed Sherman's command during all three of his most notable late-war campaigns. Burke's study serves as the first book-length examination of an army corps operating in the Western Theater during the conflict. It sheds new light on Civil War history more broadly by uncovering a direct link between the exigencies of nineteenth-century land warfare and the transformation of US wartime strategy from "conciliation," which aimed to protect the property of Southern civilians, to "hard war." Most significantly, Soldiers from Experience introduces a new theoretical construct of small unit-level tactical principles wholly absent from the rapidly growing interdisciplinary scholarship on the intricacies and influence of culture on military operations.

"Cherie Quarters: The Place and the People That Inspired Ernest J. Gaines combines personal interviews, biography, and social history to tell the story of a plantation quarter and its most famous resident, renowned Louisiana writer and Pulitzer Prize nominee Ernest J. Gaines. In clear and vivid prose, this original and vital book illuminates the birthplace of a preeminent Black author and the lives of the people who inspired his work. Before he became an award-winning writer, Gaines was the son of sharecroppers in Cherie Quarters, the workers' community of River Lake Plantation in Pointe Coupâee Parish, Louisiana. Drawing on decades of interviews and archival research, Ruth Laney explores the lives and histories of the families, both kin and not, who lived in a place where "everybody was everybody's child." Built as slave cabins in the 1840s, the houses of Cherie Quarters were cold in winter, hot in summer, filled with mosquitoes, and overflowing with people. Even so, the residents made these houses into homes. Laney describes aspects of their daily lives-work, food, entertainment, religion, and education-then expands her focus to the white families who built River Lake Plantation, enslaved its people, and later directed the lives of its Black sharecroppers. The twenty-first century saw the demise of Cherie Quarters. Like many landmarks of Black American life and history, the few remaining structures were razed or fell into ruin. Laney recounts the ultimately unsuccessful efforts of a small, dedicated group to preserve the vestiges of the community-two slave cabins, the church/schoolhouse, and a shed. Engaging and rich in detail, Cherie Quarters highlights the voices of those who called this special place home and shares the story of a lost way of life in South Louisiana"--

"In 1951, Hattie Lee Barnes, a twenty-one-year-old Black woman working as an overnight caretaker and maid at a county-line beer joint in southwestern Mississippi, shot and killed a white intruder. That man, twenty-two-year-old Lamar Craft, was breaking into the bar in the early morning hours, most likely to assault Barnes sexually. She confessed immediately to shooting him, at which point local police charged her with murder. Craft's family, one of prominence and influence, rejected Barnes's story that she was Lamar Craft's killer. Embarrassed by the circumstances in which he died, they asserted that Rob Lee, the white bar owner, was the actual murderer. Two of Craft's brothers thereafter tried to assassinate Lee but failed. Lee, concerned that Barnes might implicate him in the killing, shot her multiple times but failed to kill her. In Roadhouse Justice Trent Brown examines the long-forgotten circumstances surrounding Craft's death, revealing not only the details of his death and the lengthy court proceedings that followed, but also the precarious nature of Black lives under 1950s Mississippi justice. Barnes's court-appointed lawyer was twenty-five-year-old Joe Pigott. He and Charles Gordon, a reporter for the local newspaper, believed the prosecutors would attempt to unjustifiably convict Barnes of murder, sending her to state prison for life if not to the electric chair. Both men became strong advocates of her cause. At her murder trial later that year, the judge was Thomas Brady, a staunch segregationist who would become in the mid-1950s the leading intellectual light of the white supremist Citizens' Councils. Surprising nearly everyone, Pigott persuaded Brady to instruct the jury to deliver a directed verdict of not guilty. Hattie Barnes, however, was still not free. Despite her acquittal, Mississippi authorities continued to hold her in jail so that she would be available to testify against Rob Lee, the bar owner who shot her. At Lee's trial, which occurred over a year later, Barnes testified against him. A jury found Lee guilty, and a judge sentenced him to ten years in prison. The Craft family nonetheless continued to press authorities into indicting Lee for Lamar Craft's murder. They also filed suit against a life insurance company to construct an alternate explanation of his death. Two years after Barnes defended herself against Lamar Craft in the roadhouse, authorities finally freed her. As Brown points out, the broader story of the case illuminates the capricious nature of Mississippi justice, in which race, personal connections, and community pressures mattered a great deal. He rightly shows that Barnes was an uncommonly determined woman for not buckling under the enormous pressures she faced. Told here for the first time, the story of her tribulations and ultimate victory will attract readers interested in civil rights, legal studies, and Mississippi history"--

"The American Civil War saw the creation of the largest, most potent artillery force ever deployed in a conflict fought in the Western Hemisphere. Its size was about as large and powerful as any raised in prior European wars. Moreover, Union and Confederate artillery included the largest number of rifled pieces fielded in any conflict in the world up to that point. Amazingly, Earl Hess's "Civil War Field Artillery" is the first comprehensive general history of the artillery arm that supported infantry and cavalry in the conflict. Hess examines the major factors that affected artillerists and their work, including the hardware (cannons, carriages, limbers, caissons, tubes, and the fuses that exploded ordnance), the organization of artillery power (assembling batteries, battalions, regiments, Union artillery brigades, and Confederate artillery battalions), relationships between artillery officers and infantry/cavalry commanders, environmental factors on the battlefield, and many other influences on effectiveness as well. Hess's study offers numerous new interpretations of Civil War artillery based on deep and expansive research, especially in available statistical data. For example, in terms of organizing and managing the artillery arm, officers of the era and subsequent historians alike decried the early war practice of dispersing the guns and assigning them to infantry brigades or divisions where infantry officers completely commanded them. They also praised the concentration system most major field armies put into place during the latter half of the war. However, based on the evidence, Hess suggests that the dispersal system of the early part of the war did not inhibit the concentration of artillery power on the battlefield and that the concentration system of the latter half of the conflict failed to produce more concentration of guns. Another example relates to the effectiveness of fuses to explode long-range ordnance. Previous historians have praised those fuses, admitting they had initial problems early in the war, which each side fixed. Hess's research clearly shows that was not the case. Battery commanders continued to report bad fuses to the very end of the war. Cumulative data on what type of projectiles commanders fired in battle shows that they lessened their use of the new long-range exploding ordnance due to bad fuses while increasing their use of solid shot, the oldest artillery projectile in history. Hess's wide-ranging study argues that Civil War field artillery failed to live up to its promise, especially rifled pieces. As a general history, it also covers all aspects of the history of field artillery in the conflict, including the life of the artilleryman, the use of artillery horses, manpower replacement practices, the effect of widespread use of field fortifications on artillery performance, and the problems of resupplying batteries in the field. His comprehensive coverage and new interpretations bring the history of field artillery up to date and will contribute to a re-envisioning of the military history of the Civil War"--

"As thousands of African Americans freed themselves from slavery during the American Civil War, they launched the major social change of emancipation. Hundreds of northern antislavery reformers responded by working with them in the federally occupied South. The formerly enslaved Black refugees generally could bring little or no property to help them build a free life but could contribute labor and skills. They maintained pressure for new privileges. The relief workers, especially when organized by aid associations and serving under military personnel charged with supervising the freedom seekers, could draw upon more resources and exert some influence on programs.The two groups brought views and practices from their backgrounds, which could help or trouble the transition out of slavery. Enslaved Blacks had learned to act with independent-mindedness and wariness when dealing with whites. They resented the northerners' preconceptions and attempts to control the transition, especially the use of force. Some disgruntled formerly enslaved Blacks even evaded or opposed programs created for them. Conflicts occasionally led to program modifications but frequently moved Blacks to seek more autonomy. Still, working together did result in some accomplishments. In an exhaustive analysis of that interaction, John Cimprich shows how the unusual circumstances opened new possibilities, spawned social movements for change, generated challenges, and produced limited results. His work is the first comprehensive study of the two groups' collaboration and conflict, adding an essential chapter to the history of slavery's end in the United States. Cimprich suggests that federal policy affected much of that interaction but that individuals' attitudes also played a key role. While Blacks saw themselves as equal humans, only a minority of white reformers shared that view. Over time, most Black refugees came to appreciate the reformers' idealism and charity while maintaining a degree of distance because of reformers' critical views. In the end, both groups' ongoing efforts to gain formerly enslaved Blacks new privileges ultimately led to social change. Cimprich's study is sure to be of interest to historians of slavery and the Civil War"--

Irish-born and Irish-descended soldiers and sailors were involved in every major engagement of the American Civil War. Throughout the conflict, they shared their wartime experiences through songs and song lyrics, leaving behind a vast trove of ballads in songbooks, letters, newspaper publications, wartime diaries, and other accounts. Taken together, these songs and lyrics offer an underappreciated source of contemporary feelings and opinions about the war. Catherine V. Bateson's Irish American Civil War Songs provides the first in-depth exploration of Irish Americans' use of balladry to portray and comment on virtually every aspect of the war as witnessed by the Irish on the front line and home front. Bateson considers the lyrics, themes, and sentiments of wartime songs produced in America but often originating with those born across the Atlantic in Ireland and Britain. Her analysis gives new insight into views held by the Irish migrant diaspora about the conflict and the ways those of Irish descent identified with and fought to defend their adopted homeland. Bateson's investigation of Irish American song lyrics within the context of broader wartime experiences enhances our understanding of the Irish contribution to the American Civil War. At the same time, it demonstrates how Irish songs shaped many American balladry traditions as they laid the foundation of the Civil War's musical soundscape.

We remember the 1966 birth of the New Orleans Saints as a shady quid pro quo between the NFL commissioner and a Louisiana congressman. Moving the Chains is the untold story of the athlete protest that necessitated this backroom deal, as New Orleans scrambled to respond to a very public repudiation of the racist policies that governed the city. In the decade that preceded the 1965 athlete walkout, a reactionary backlash had swept through Louisiana, bringing with it a host of new segregation laws and enough social strong-arming to quash any complaints, even from suffering sports promoters. Nationwide protests assailed the Tulane Green Wave, the Sugar Bowl, and the NFL's preseason stop-offs, and only legal loopholes and a lot of luck kept football alive in the city. Still, live it did, and in January 1965, locals believed they were just a week away from landing their own pro franchise. All they had to do was pack Tulane Stadium for the city's biggest audition yet, the AFL All-Star game. Ultimately, all fifty-eight Black and white teammates walked out of the game to protest the town's lingering segregation practices and public abuse of Black players. Following that, love of the gridiron prompted and excused something out of sync with the city's branding: change. In less than two years, the Big Easy made enough progress to pass a blitz inspection by Black and white NFL officials and receive the long-desired expansion team. The story of the athletes whose bravery led to change quickly fell by the wayside. Locals framed desegregation efforts as proof that the town had been progressive and tolerant all along. Furthermore, when a handshake between Pete Rozelle and Hale Boggs gave America its first Super Bowl and New Orleans its own club, the city proudly clung to that version of events, never admitting the cleanup even took place. As a result, Moving the Chains is the first book to reveal the ramifications of the All-Stars' civil resistance and to detail the Saints' true first win.

"While the role of engineers in the Civil War was critical to the success or failure of both armies, historians have until now not comprehensively examined the role of Confederate engineers in the western theater of the war. Larry J. Daniel's Engineering in the Confederate Heartland fills a gap in that historiography by analyzing the lives and accomplishments of professionally trained and novice engineers working for the Confederacy in the 175,000 square miles between the Appalachian Mountains and Mississippi River, commonly referred to as the western theater of the war. Daniel's engrossing examination of Confederate engineers in the West is bound to be of widespread interest to both Civil War scholars and enthusiasts"--