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Book Reviews

While I single-handedly can't save the world from the downward spiral of social media content, I can try to make my social media followers' experience a little more pleasant by virtually opening up my personal library to them. My hope is by sharing what I am reading, I may inspire other to read books-- any books. Picking up a physical book provides a much-needed break from the constant strain on our eyes, brains, and emotions. I also make it a point to share books I have bought at local libraries or my favorite book selling app, Thriftbooks.

I started doing this around 2018 on Twitter, and then moved it over to Facebook after I sunset my Twitter account in 2022. With Facebook reducing fact-checking beginning in 2025, I will be sharing more here on my website.

The Latest Reads

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A few years ago, I picked up some contract work that allowed Patrick and me to plan a quick trip to LA for some baseball. This was at the end of the 2022 season, and by pure chance, the last weekend of the season was the only season both the Angels and Dodgers were in town. The Angels were terrible, but our visit to Angels Stadium was memorable because both Shohei Ohtani and Mike Trout were healthy and playing. We were four rows from the visitors dugout, at a shocking $25 per ticket thanks to StubHub (and the awful Angels). Even though the real estate between the foul poles beyond the outfield fence has changed a lot at the stadium, a lot of Angels Stadium has remained virtually unchanged since opening in 1966. The game presentation was fun, and having worked in pro sports I knew why-- with the team on the field being so bad, the atmosphere of the event had to be entertaining. We had a lot of fun, and I bookmarked in the back of my head some day I’ll come back because even if the Angels aren’t fun, Angels games (the event) are fun and pretty cheap.

 

The next night, we were going to venerable Dodger Stadium. The seats were a whole lot more expensive (I think about $90 each), but I got to check off “sit in the Dodger Stadium bleachers for a game” on my bucket list. Our hotel in Anaheim was maybe a 5 minute drive to the Angels game, but the drive to Dodger Stadium was a bit more of a chore as we wound through downtown LA traffic late on a Saturday afternoon. Unlike Angels Stadium, I had to pay the $35 to park at Dodger Stadium (the POS device at Angels Stadium wasn’t working when I tried to pay, and the attendant just waved me through). Dodgers Stadium is surrounded by acres of parking lots, and there’s no convenient tram to get you from space to gate, so you get your steps in. The setting sun was baking us in the stands before the game, and I paid a fortune for the pleasure of eating a Dodger dog (sadly after Farmer John stopped producing them) and two filling footlong churros when I accidentally ordered two and the clerk couldn’t figure out how to cancel the sale. Despite the glaring differences, including the Dodgers crossing the 110-win plateau for the first time in their history, we were in baseball’s valhalla. The extra money spent, the extra walking in the parking lots, the ridiculously excessively loud PA music, and the legendary slow crawl through traffic after the game was worth it all. The Angels game was more fun, the Dodgers game was a rite of passage. If you’re a baseball fan, I highly recommend you make that trip too if the teams are in town at the same time.

 

While Dodger Stadium is part of that rite of passage, and still showing its glamorous aura despite several upgrades and renovations since it opened in 1962, there’s a very dirty side to the stadium’s history. Former Dodgers owner Walter O’Malley is often cited as the main blame for any of the world’s woes since he moved the team out of Brooklyn after the 1957 season, but any baseball scholar also knows O’Malley made the moves for the right reasons, and New York’s urban renewal maestro Robert Moses shares a lot of the blame. After reading Eric Nusbaum’s Stealing Home, you’ll also come to realize the removal of Chavez Ravine residents to build Dodger Stadium is not totally at the fault of O’Malley. There are plenty of people to point fingers at, and the process that often gets narrowed down to the spring of 1959 actually goes back nearly a decade before. But here lies the rub I have with this book.

 

There are many people to blame, and many people who played some part (as protagonist and antagonist). Much like a baseball manager tends these days to out-manage himself by tinkering with pitch counts, bullpen readiness, and match-up Sabremetrics, Nusbaum makes one too many moves in the first 1/3 of this book. If you’ve never had the pleasure of an ADHD diagnosis, you will enjoy the character whiplash Nusbaum puts you through in the first 100 pages or so as he rapidly goes too far back telling the personal stories of too many people in too short of a time. Chapters are only two or three pages, as some minute detail of one character’s family gets told, before another detail of another character’s life story is told. This pattern left me wondering after 50 or 60 pages if I could make it through what should be an intriguing story. Nusbaum could’ve saved the literary vertigo, and told a more compelling story, if he told this part of the story in a more conventional fashion (and maybe about 60 pages instead of 100). Once you do manage to plow through this part, the rest of the story is compelling.

 

O’Malley, rebuffed by Moses in his attempt to build a glistening new domed stadium, looked beyond New York City to bring the Dodgers to. Los Angeles, long a Pacific Coast League hotbed of activity with the LA Angels and Hollywood Stars, was desperate to look “big league”. Although the PCL was very much a “third major league”, it was never officially considered on the same level as the American League and National League. As more people started settling in the west, especially war veterans, sports franchises started casting an eye to the forgotten coast which was now in reach with jet engine advances in air transportation.

 

Yet here is the biggest twist to the story of Dodger Stadium’s construction-- it was never intended to put a sports stadium in Chavez Ravine. The original purpose of clearing the land was to build affordable housing, another outgrowth of the war as soldiers stationed in Europe saw firsthand how many nations handled high concentrations of city populations. Of course, many of those cities were in socialist or communist areas, and the notion of anything socialist or communist in America in the 1950s was put in the crosshairs. When one prominent supporter of the public housing was found to be a former communist, conveniently coinciding with the 1952 elections that saw a very hard-right swing in the nation’s electorate, the housing project was dead in the water.

 

There was a problem though, as residents of the Chavez Ravine neighborhoods were already taking buyouts of their property, and the neighborhood was dwindling to a ghost town. Several families held firm (rightly) with the belief that they owned this land and the city had no right to just push everybody out for any project, be it public housing or a publicly-funded stadium. When the stadium agreement was greeted with approval by the city, the bulldozers moved in to knock out what was left. This is where another surprising twist develops (no spoiler, but let’s just say the prominently featured family being evicted wasn’t quite as destitute as they made others believe). The land was cleared, the stadium built, and a sad decade of the controversies of eminent domain and publicly-funded stadium construction has been mostly swept under the rug for 70-plus years. 

 

Despite the author’s awful approach to presenting this story, this is a great case study on people’s rights, immigrant’s rights, the power of a political wave, and a wonderful “what if” had the stadium not been built. It’s a good story for baseball fans of all teams, and I won’t harp on you if you skip the first 100 or so pages to get to the good part.

Previous Reads

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So I was excited to read the first of the Rick Perlstein trilogy, then I realized it isn’t a trilogy. There’s actually four books (I forgot about 2020’s Reaganland), and a fifth on the way (America during the GWB years). So my plan to read all three (or four or five) books in a row got derailed as I need to have a little break from the insanity of American conservatism since World War II. However, reading Before the Storm was much needed in today’s day. It’s also appropriate after my surprise discovery of the previously read Five Cities as that book led nicely into this one.

 

Perlstein’s series focuses on the main character of different stages of the conservative movement, with the final four focusing on Richard Nixon, two books for Ronald Reagan, and the aforementioned George W. Bush. Before the Storm was all about Barry Goldwater, the catalyst of today’s conservative movement, the torch bearer of a generation of young conservatives who had been bubbling under the surface for 20 years before Goldwater’s ill-fated run for president in 1964. Even though the book is a little over 500 pages, Perlstein’s writing style brings you right into the action and makes the story move quickly.

 

With Five Cities, we saw how power and corruption built the industrial centers of America in the 19th and early 20th centuries-- and how East coast money funded the whole venture while crushing labor unions. The war turned America into an industrial machine, and after the war the nation tried to return to “normal”, which featured a Franklin Roosevelt environment under the presidency of Harry Truman. This meant the nation was under 13 years of Democratic party rule, and the multiple-term presidency of FDR rubbed quite a few people the wrong way. Looking to wrestle away the White House in 1948, Republicans were embarrassed by a razor-thin loss with straight-laced Thomas Dewey as a candidate. In 1952, it seemed like a fait accompli that legacy Ohio senator (and son of former president and Supreme Court chief justice William Taft) Robert Taft would waltz through the primary and win the election over Democratic nominee and general egghead Adlai Stevenson. But as they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men…

 

Mired in a stalemate in Korea and yearning for American military strength to end the war, a motion to push Dwight Eisenhower through as the nominee for the Republicans. The “sure” nomination for Taft eventually became a win for Eisenhower not only at the 1952 convention, but in the general election too. Yet despite what the campaign pins said, everybody didn’t “like Ike”. A fracture had formed between the old school conservatives (primarily from the East) and the conservatives who had settled West after the war, or who were first or second generation children of settlers who chased gold or “Manifest Destiny” in an earlier time. These people were not just tired of decades of Democratic leadership, they were tired of the Easterners running the GOP. One of those people was Barry Goldwater.

 

As discussed in a previous review of Robert Alan Goldberg’s 1997 biography on Goldwater, Goldwater’s family was rooted in the southwest. His Jewish grandfather was a 49er, who later settled in Arizona and opened a retail store that was bequeathed and expanded by his sons. A beloved uncle was a longtime (and powerful) state legislator, and a model of a perfect politician in Barry’s eyes. Goldwater was not a very good student, and struggled to get through high school and post-graduate life. Yet he managed to get by when he became the manager of the Goldwater’s department stores.


Despite finding his footing, and (to some people’s surprise) being a leader in racial integration in both the Arizona Air National Guard and public schools following the Brown vs. Board of Education Supreme Court ruling, Goldwater would get swept up in the new conservatism following his 1952 U.S. Senate run. The nation was changing, and Eisenhower was seen as a liberal Republican, a mere extension of Roosevelt and Truman. A younger generation of conservatives was looking for someone to not just take control of the nation, but forcibly wrestle it away so the country didn’t go down the wrong path and be “liberal” forever. Sound familiar?

 

A changing nation, a splintering Democratic party (thanks to Strom Thurmond’s Dixiecrats and the Southerners who wouldn’t let go of the Civil War), the Eastern snobbery of new president John F. Kennedy, and an energetic young foundation of conservatives still running off the fumes of McCarthyism and the birth of the John Birch Society. Amongst all of this was the cantankerous Goldwater, whose Southwest sensibility of the world slowly marinated in the new conservative movement, eventually leading him past other notables Nelson Rockefeller and William Scranton to becoming the reluctant (at first) presidential candidate for 1964. He was the torch bearer of a conservative but increasingly nasty right wing of the nation, a right wing that terrified people on both sides of the political aisle. Again, sound familiar?

 

The big difference between Goldwater in 1964 and increasingly nasty right-wing political runs of the past 25 years or so is Goldwater lost, and badly. The campaign was poorly run, mostly by Goldwater’s untested and unserious Arizona connections. His mental stability was questioned, creating the “Goldwater rule” that is still observed today. And incumbent Lyndon Baines Johnson was able to pick up the causes of the martyred Kennedy as he sought a “great society”. Although Goldwater only managed to win 52 electoral votes, he still won 38% of the popular vote, which is amazing considering the bungled campaign. Outside of Arizona, Goldwater won 5 Deep South states, further pushing forward the Republican party’s Southern strategy. And while young Republican catalyst William Buckley wisely distanced himself from Goldwater in 1964, he and many other frustrated conservatives quickly picked up the pieces and worked towards midterm success in 1966 and the White House in 1968. Goldwater may have lost the battle in 1964, but the war for the right would be won in later years and culminated in Richard Nixon’s presidency.

 

This is a great book not only because of Perlstein’s deep research and easy-to-read writing style, but also because it again serves as a reminder that a lot of what we are living through in 2025 is unprecedented in our lifetime. Yes, some of what is happening truly is a first in American history, but the recounting of the Young Republican movement (alongside John Birch, Buckley’s New Republic, McCarthyism, etc.) provides a fat back beat to the repeating of history from 60+ years ago. While you don’t have to read the entire Perlstein collection to figure out how we got to where we are today, Before the Storm is a must-read to see how it all got started.

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I’ve just started reading the Rick Perlstein trilogy of the history of conservatism in America after World War II, all part of my desire to learn “how we got here” in our current state of politics. Before the Perlstein trio started though, I took a little detour to a book written in 1939 that helps set the table nicely for where we were before WWII. How I ended up on that detour was in itself a story.

 

A couple of months ago, I saw a post from The Atlantic in my Facebook feed. The post was promoting an archived story, a review of John Steinbeck’s classic The Grapes of Wrath. I read through the review, agreeing with the author then that this book would indeed become a classic. I saw a second book review and I read it. This review was for Five Cities: The Story of Their Youth and Old Age by George Ross Leighton (no relation to the recently deceased George Leighton of engineering science fame). After reading it I knew I needed to track it down, and I managed to secure an old library copy.

 

Five Cities tells the story of Shenandoah, PA, Louisville, KY, Birmingham, AL, Omaha, NE and Seattle, WA, during the Great Depression. Each chapter covers where the city was in that present time, coupled with a deep history of what industry made that city famous. No matter what industry brought the city to industrial hotspot status in the 1930s, each of these five cities have the same driving force-- incredibly greedy industrial leaders aided and abetted by greedy and corrupt local (and in some cases federal) government leaders. 

 

This driving force is a handy reminder that what we are dealing with in 2025, while in some cases is unprecedented, is mostly unprecedented in our lifetimes. Corruption, graft, greed, violent union busting, and a general disdain by the rich for the “common man”. The disdain was deeper if you were Black, Asian, and certainly if you were poor. At the heart of much of the economy in these cities across the country was financing from the East coast investors, who also didn’t give a damn about the needs of these localities. This group of money managers and decision makers will turn out to be a key part of postwar politics-- and why conservatism flipped on its ear away from the East coast and more towards the West and Midwest.

 

Reading these stories reminds us that the “good old days” weren’t always good, and many Americans today are blinded by a fanciful idea that we have to go back to past values. Five Cities does a great job at sharing what average Americans were dealing with over 100 years ago, and you can definitely appreciate the advancements made in society since then. You also get a great understanding as to why America was dangerously close to falling into fascism in the 1930s-- since the Civil War 70 years earlier, it was clear to see how the system favored the haves or the have-nots. Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal measures did make a case as to why capitalism and democracy was the better option, while the actions of the Axis powers leading up to and during the war carried the second half of that message. 

 

Five Cities puts you right in the dire days of America in the 1930s, and is a mostly easy book to read despite the chapters on Omaha and Seattle running a bit long. The books end on a wimpy note, with the author (obviously a devout Democrat) pretty much leaving us hanging with a two-page conclusion that everything will be just fine with FDR’s leadership and programs. While that would prove to be mostly true, it does leave the reader wondering if he just read five separate book reports on different cities that couldn’t be nicely summarized. Regardless, I’m glad I accidentally read the second book review. While Stenbeck’s book was a fictional summary of America through the characters of the Joad family (and some uncredited real-world observations from Sanora Babb), Leighton manages to capture America in a precise time that sadly could be repeated again 100 years later. It’s a hard book to find, but if you can find it you’ll appreciate the insight into how we got to where we are.

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A lot of ink has been spilled through the years on rival sports leagues, and why not? There’s plenty of hijinks and hilarity when looking back at the creativity and the zaniness of the American Basketball Association or the World Hockey Association, and the memorable collapse of the USFL when the league foolishly followed the lead of Donald Trump into going head-to-head with the NFL. Yet it was a different rival to the NFL, in a different time in America, that is arguably the best rival league in post-war America. The Other League: The Fabulous Story of the American Football League by Jack Horrigan and Mike Rathet is more of a coffee table book, but it is a great time capsule, and not just because it was published shortly after the AFL-NFL merger in 1970.

 

For me personally, this book brought me back to my first semester at the University of Alabama. It was fall 1995, I didn’t really know anyone on campus, and the football team must have been playing on the road at night because one Saturday morning I found myself at the Gorgas library. As a book worm, the Gorgas library was an incredible find for me, with tens of thousands of books dating back to the university’s founding in 1831 (those that survived the Union Army’s sacking, that is). When I first walked through the stacks, I gravitated to my natural love-- sports. After thumbing through decades worth of bound Sports Illustrated magazines, I searched for some books and came across The Other League. I was struck then by the great color photography, as well as a pretty in-depth recap of the AFL. Keep in mind this was 25 years after the merger, one year after the NFL celebrated its 75th anniversary with teams wearing throwback uniforms, and people from my generation knowing and seeing very little of the AFL in its heyday. Now fast forward about 30 years.

 

I’m looking for some sports books on Thriftbooks, and I not only find a copy of The Other League, I find a restored copy for a reasonable price. I bought the book, and thumbed through it again with awe as I revisited the great photos and quick and easy recap. The life of the AFL wasn’t actually quick and easy, as the stymied wannabe NFL owners Lamar Hunt, Bud Adams, Bob Howsam, and Max Winter were first rebuffed in their pursuit of the purchase of the Chicago Cardinals. When the group decided maybe they should start up a rival league, the NFL tried to woo them with potential expansion, but when the rivals refused the NFL nearly crushed the AFL before it started by luring away the Minnesota franchise’s owner with an expansion team in Dallas. The AFL committed to pressing on, awarding the former Minnesota club to a group in Oakland (which ironically has given the NFL heartburn for 65 years now).

 

Once the AFL firmly went forward, a wild battle for top talent ensued, which is hard to imagine today as the NFL wasn’t yet the juggernaut it would become in later years. Top collegiate players were drafted by both leagues, and players ended up getting shuttled in the middle of the night from one hotel to another in an attempt to keep the other league from signing them. The AFL had some laughable moments and some odd players and coaches, yet compared to other rival leagues in the future the AFL was surprisingly sound. Only two franchises relocated: Barron Hilton’s Los Angeles Chargers headed south to San Diego where they would remain for 57 years, and Hunt’s Dallas Texans who moved to Kansas City despite putting up a championship team against the woeful Dallas Cowboys. As football-crazy as Texas was, the DFW metroplex couldn’t handle two pro football teams at the same time.

 

The Other League does a fine job in covering the creation and early challenges of the league, but it leaves a lot of the rival league wackiness out, save for some “potpourri” stories tucked in at the end of the book. The book honors the 19 AFL players to have played in the league in all 10 seasons, the top players at each position, the 10-most important games in AFL history (the “Heidi” game isn’t one of them, although it is referenced several times), and a recap of the four NFL vs. AFL Super Bowls. A lot is covered in the book, but it is far from a complete retelling of the league. There’s not a lot of depth in the storytelling of the frantic draft signings, or the sparse conditions in training camps or at some early stadium situations like San Diego, Houston, and Oakland (which played its first games at Candlestick Park in San Francisco). There’s scant reference to the disastrous New York Titans, the laughable Denver Broncos, or later franchise additions in Miami and Cincinnati or even the NFL blocking the AFL’s expansion plans in Atlanta. According to the book, everything was pretty good in the world of the AFL in 1970, thanks mostly to Joe Namath and a few steady and sturdy owners willing to take on the establishment.


Still, the book is a great snapshot of what the AFL did that the ABA, WHA, USFL, or other rival leagues couldn’t do-- survive and fully merge with the established league. If you want more insight into the goofiness of the AFL, I recommend reading John Eisenberg’s Ten-Gallon War: The NFL’s Cowboys, the AFL’s Texans, and the Feud for Dallas’s Pro Football Future. For a quick recap covering the greats of the league with some awesome artwork and photography, The Other League is worth the extra few dollars you’ll spend.

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Several months ago, I was longing for a little bit of George Carlin. I’ve recently noticed a lot of other people are also looking for some kind of peace by reading or listening to Carlin. I’m pretty certain we’re feeling this way because many people believe that Carlin “predicted” the craziness and utter stupidity we’re living through right now in America. Much like a random episode of The Simpsons “predicts” something we’re dealing with now, it’s not hard to take a comment or routine from Carlin 50 years ago and somehow make it a Nostradamus proclamation. But the writers of The Simpsons and Carlin have the last laugh-- they didn’t predict anything. This country has just been loony enough for much of its entire history, and only now are some people realizing it.

 

When I was looking to scratch my Carlin itch a few months ago, I settled on James Sullivan’s well-researched 7 Dirty Words as my biography of choice. It’s an easy read that very much takes a dashboard view of Carlin’s life, because let’s be honest you could easily write 600 pages or so on the very complicated and lengthy career he had. Sullivan does well to cover Carlin’s upbringing with an alcoholic father and a doting mother who raised him and his brother, his brief time in the Air Force (where to no surprise he got in a lot of trouble), and some great notes on his first 10-15 years of his professional career which I found the most rewarding.

 

Carlin started out professionally in radio, succeeding mostly in rock stations and becoming terminally bored at talk or news stations even though the latter were located in large markets like Boston and New York. It can be argued that while he was a DJ in Shreveport, Louisiana, he was the first DJ in America to air Elvis Presley’s “All Shook Up” when a label A&R rep errantly sent him a promotional copy along with several other discs. At a radio station in Fort Worth, Texas, he teamed up with fellow DJ Jack Burns, and the duo started working the hipster coffee houses around the metroplex. Carlin and Burns decided to take a shot at making it big in Hollywood after a few years, and they surprisingly found a receptive audience and some well-paying gigs. Yet as time went on, Carlin became despondent with the career track he was on.

 

Although he idolized comedian Danny Kaye, Carlin was impressed with Lenny Bruce’s rising star in being able to “tell it like it is” which was taboo at the time. Ironically, Carlin was arrested for not providing identification to police when Bruce was arrested for obscenity at a show in Chicago in 1962. With aging Bortsch-belt comedians still dominating the scene, and a new generation of mostly “clean” comics such as Bob Newhart and Bill Cosby, there was a space being created thanks in part to the growing population of the counter-culture as well as the pending supernova blowout of Bruce. Carlin wasn’t alone, as notably Richard Pryor was feeling the same shift in his routine. Carlin and Burns amicably departed to seek their own individual success, and Burns was successful as a television writer and animation voice (as well as a brief fling as Barney Fife’s replacement on The Andy Griffith Show).

 

It took several years for Carlin to find his groove, but a lot of his experience in broadcasting (“Wonderful WINO” and “Hippy Dippy Weatherman”) as well as bits he honed over years of practice led the way to getting some notoriety. His breakthrough came in a 1972 album AM & FM which you can still buy used at a record store for $5 (I know because I actually did that earlier this year). The album was a coming out for Carlin as the AM side featured some of his “classic” material, while the FM side featured his more Bruce-esque take on society. The top was blown off the following year on the Class Clown album (which I ruefully donated before moving to Arizona) where he first published his “7 Words” routine that famously went before the Supreme Court in a landmark case that was decided in 1978. While today’s court would rubber stamp a decision against Carlin 6-3 on a shadow docket before embarking on some vacation paid for by the Heritage Foundation, the ‘78 Court determined (5-4) that Carlin’s seven curse words (which any DJ can recite from memory-- I know I can) could not be aired on over-the-air radio or television channels. A simple comedy routine looking at the banality of words and how they are used suddenly became the law of the land.

 

Sullivan spends a lot of time covering the “7 words” case and fallout, and only lightly touches on the final 30 years of Carlin’s life and death. There is some discussion about Carlin’s HBO specials (which boosted his career and opened his routine up to a new audience), as well as his well known drug abuse in the 1970s and later an addiction to pain pills around the time his wife died. The lack of most everything else covered in this book prompted me to buy his daughter’s biography A Carlin Home Companion, which of course I’ll share details about once I get around to reading it.

 

Sullivan does mention with some detail the dark turn Carlin’s comedy took in his final years. I can attest to that as I was fortunate to see him in person at a show in Birmingham in 1998, and while there were some light-hearted classics he performed, there were also some very dark corners he explored which only got darker in the early 2000s. This however is the downside to the dashboard approach of the book-- an easy overview read, but I’m still hungering for a bit more about this sage and grumpy fully Irish Dodgers fan.


Still, this book was a nice reminder of some of the wit and random observations Carlin could make that might prove to be accurate even 30 years later. It has also reminded me that I have two of his books (Brain Droppings and Napalm & Silly Putty) that I should probably skim through again, at the very least to see what weird “prediction” may come true next. I’ll see what he had to say about Tylenol and autism.

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Why do sports teams tank? The obvious answer is to rebuild-- get a couple of core players, then build around them to eventually create a contending team. I saw it personally when I worked with the Tampa Bay Lightning. When the team bottomed out in the 2007-08 and 2008-09 seasons, they drafted Steven Stamkos and Victor Hedman in respective drafts. The team wasn’t at the bottom forever, but deftly drafted key pieces such as Andrei Vasilevskiy, Nikita Kucherov, Brayden Point, thanks mostly to Al Murray’s scouting department. The core was supplemented by somewhat long-term teammates (Ondrej Palat, Tyler Johnson, etc.), as well as some rotating players that were acquired in various ways. For the Lightning it worked, as they won two Stanley Cup championships and played for a third, all in the middle of a now 10-year stretch of remarkable success. Some teams try similar approaches and fall short. But others try similar approaches and repeatedly fail, and that may be part of the plan.

In the early 2000s I would joke about the Pittsburgh Pirates’ “20-year rebuild”, this coming on the heels of the Tampa Bay Rays’ former general manager Chuck Lamar always keeping his job despite some terrible baseball because the prospects were just around the corner (and only one or two managed to make a long MLB career, including Josh Hamilton who never actually played for the Rays). I also recall the former GM of the Buffalo Sabres, Tim Murray, despondently trashing his potential second-overall pick Jack Eichel, mostly because he missed out on the draft lottery winnings of Connor McDavid to Edmonton. The immensely talented but moody Eichel’s time in Buffalo was ruined before he was even selected. He would eventually come out on top after Murray was fired a couple of years after the draft, and with Eichel getting his name on the Stanley Cup in 2023 with Las Vegas.

 

If you’re wondering about the tanking business, there’s no better place to look for it than in the NBA… the league that to this day is still chock full of conspiracy theories as to how that team got that pick. Jake Fischer tries his best to get to the bottom of why teams tank with this pretty in-depth look at the period of 2013-17, best known as the Philadelphia 76ers “trust the process” era. While Fischer does well to recap how the NBA lottery came to be (and changed) while providing some pretty impressive insider knowledge of what the teams were thinking then, he still leaves a lot to be desired as this book doesn’t quite get the answer to the questions as to why teams tank or if it’s successful.

Fischer focuses mostly on the Sixers, and other obviously tanking teams like the Sacramento Kings, New Orleans Pelicans, Charlotte Bobcats/Hornets, and Orlando Magic. He also gives a lot of attention to teams that had good (and in some cases great) time periods before hitting a rough stretch, like the LA Lakers at the end of Kobe Bryant’s career, the Phoenix Suns, the Milwaukee Bucks, the Cleveland Cavaliers, and the Brooklyn Nets. We follow the collapse or intentional destruction of a roster, the lottery choices as they pop up, and the maneuvering before and during the draft as teams try to get the players they desperately wanted to build a franchise (or marketing plan) around. In the case of the Sixers, the trades made to get more draft picks for future drafts. After draft day, we follow the teams and players throughout the next few years, mostly to discover that very few of them had any idea what to do with such talented players once they were part of the team.

In the end, we learn that at least during that era of tanking, most of the teams involved only had a season or two of moderate success before things fell apart again. Then the “rebuilding” process would start all over again, and it should be no surprise those teams are no closer to a championship in 2025 than they were 10-12 years ago. The outliers include the Cavaliers, who had the good fortune of Lebron James returning for a brief time before moving on to the Lakers. The Lakers, trying the rebuilding thing, clearly found their answer in luring Lebron a few years after his win in Cleveland. The Bucks, the Boston Celtics, and the Golden State Warriors (all briefly mentioned in the book) have been the most successful with a smart plan of not just who to build around but how to do it with the right teammates, coaches, and approach to how the game is played.

So while there is some pretty interesting insight into the day-to-day activity from 2013-17 in the NBA here, there’s not a real definitive conclusion other than tanking will continue and the tankers will (with very few exceptions) not find themselves in the winner’s circle anytime soon. Read it for the intel, but don’t keep it on your bookshelf too much longer.
 

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The history of Walmart vs. K-Mart has long fascinated me. So much so, I’ve used it as a real-life case study in my marketing classes ever since I started adjunct teaching. It has always amazed me that two chains of discount retailers, born six months apart, hit their stride before going in drastically different directions. Today K-Mart has one location in the U.S., and three in the world. Walmart is doing a whole lot better, to say the least.

 

The big reason why Walmart made its mark first in rural areas and then worldwide was the incredible foresight of company founder Sam Walton. This autobiography was written during Walton’s dying months, and it was released shortly after his death in 1992. It’s a very unique time capsule, as Walton proudly details the trials and successes of the retailer during its first 30 years. Walton first entered the field as the manager of a Ben Franklin 5 & 10 store, and while he managed to quickly make it a success, he had to sell the store after the owners of the building refused to extend the lease (thus taking over the successful store). If you’ve ever wondered why Walmart signs 99-year leases on their buildings, now you know why.

 

Despite the gut punch, Walton continued in the discount general store business, but he decided to join the growing industry of large discount retailers. After opening his first Walmart in Rogers, Arkansas, Walton wisely built future stores within a day’s drive from the company-owned distribution warehouses. These were in primarily rural areas in the early 1960s, but as the suburbs continued to spread away from city centers, the new construction bypassed existing K-Mart and other discount stores. Eventually America was moving into Walmarts’ established neighborhoods-- at least if you were living in Arkansas and other areas of the Ozarks.

 

Walmart struggled in the mid 1970s after Walton briefly gave up control, and Walton interestingly frames the era as a do-or-die turning point for the store. A few things came together in Walton’s favor, including the smart management at K-Mart retiring, and the saturated-rural approach slowly growing through the midwest. Walton’s hands-on approach while also granting store managers’ autonomy in most decision making helped keep the store focused on low expenses and low prices. Walton was enamored with his competition, and he found ways to improve on what they were doing with technology while the competition (especially K-Mart) pretty much stayed stuck in the 1960s. When Walton died, Walmart was surpassing $1 billion in sales.

 

The Walmart Walton talks about, as well as a lot of the core principles in the chain, arguably changed gradually after his death. Sales increased, expenses were still kept low, and as Walmart entered “Big Box” territory the allegations emerged that Walmart mistreated its hourly employees. It’s a battle Walmart still fights, along with increased competition from Amazon, and now tariff uncertainty. It’s hard to definitively know if Walmart would have continued on the growth path it did had Walton lived longer, or if it would have been more sustained (and likely a detriment to its current status as a global retail powerhouse).

 

It’s also admittedly a little hard to see if a global retail powerhouse could start from the ground up today and see similar success along a similar timeline. I would imagine many business opportunities are started solely with the idea that somehow through internet influencers, one store can quickly become a global phenomenon. The slow and strategic growth plan Walton allowed to develop in Walmart’s first 10 or so years, after 15 years of trial and error in the smaller 5 & 10 operations, seems less likely in the venture capital day and age.

 

Despite Walton’s “awww shucks, I’m rich but I don’t care” tone (that must be a nice problem to have) that weaves its way throughout the book, this is an interesting look back into the first 30 years of a retail juggernaut that still finds a way to lead or compete in the sphere.

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The Catcher Was a Spy is an entertaining yet complex book, which is fitting for its entertaining and complex protagonist. Moe Berg was an average and serviceable professional ballplayer. Primarily a utility infielder early in his career, he settled in as a catcher in the late 1920s with the White Sox, and later served as a third catcher for Cleveland, Washington, and the Red Sox. Not quite good enough offensively to be an all-star, defensively he was a favorite of the pitching staff as he called a good game. Being liked by the pitching staff likely lengthened his career on the field, as well as off the field as he was generally a pain in the ass to team management. Berg frequently held out for better contracts-- a rare practice in the 1920s and 1930s when players had very little bargaining power in contract negotiations. His on-the-field performance also helped smooth over concerns about his eccentricities.

 

Berg was not an introvert, but he definitely was not a rube like many of the ballplayers at the time were. Berg preferred to experiment with still photography. He was proficient in several languages. He not only read newspapers, he read several papers every day, claiming the papers were “living” until he and only he declared they were “dead” and useless. Despite his sometimes bizarre antics, Berg was fairly well-liked by his teammates, in part because of the mysteriousness of his life. Although more than a few thought he was queer, literally and figuratively, he was very much a ladies man and had his own private social life.

 

Berg’s tendency for a secretive lifestyle and ability to just disappear from a scene made him perfect for the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the predecessor of the CIA. With the start of World War II and the end of Berg’s professional baseball career, Berg was recruited and wildly successful as a spy. Berg’s biggest moment was infiltrating the protective bubble of German scientists in the OSS’ search for the answer of if the Nazis were on the way to creating the atomic bomb. Berg successfully worked his way into the science circle, determining the Nazis weren’t close to having a bomb despite intel suggesting they might. By the time the Nazis surrendered, it became evident Berg and his team were right, and the Manhattan Project continued unabated until nuclear bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. After that moment, everything changed for Berg, and his life’s story got significantly darker.

 

Removed from his spying career (the OSS and later CIA refused to hire him post-war, in part because of questionable expenses) as well as his playing career, Berg didn’t know what to do with his life. After his parents died, he drifted from one sibling’s home to another while accepting the occasional consulting job here and there. He would frequently sit in baseball press boxes simply to watch a game, and he was feted by the baseball writers who loved his intelligence and stories of baseball past. For 25+ years, he just existed, living an enigmatic life. He was too old and too unhealthy to work in baseball daily, yet he couldn’t regale his spy stories to the public. In addition to his enigmatic and nomadic lifestyle, the reader learns that Berg was a sexually disturbed man. He may not have been homosexual, but he certainly had some odd relationships with other men. He was a ladies man in his social life, but he also had some aggressive (borderline harassing) moments with women including a disturbing account with a teenage girl. 

 

To sum it up, Berg was a talented ballplayer and secret agent man. Yet he was also exceedingly weird and socially inept. This is an interesting book to read, and if you can stomach some of the unsavory parts of Berg’s life, you’ll be asking the question dozens of people asked then. Who is Moe Berg?

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I don’t recall where I read the initial book review for The Unclaimed a year or so ago, but I remember adding it to my Thriftbooks wishlist because I knew it was something I wanted to read after getting a tease from the review. After finding it at a good price, I read it as well, and hopefully this review moves you to acquire it too.

The authors Pamela Prickett and Stefan Timmermans spent several years tracking indigent burials in Los Angeles County. Those bodies went unclaimed by family or legal guardians after three years, and they were cremated and buried in a collective pauper’s grave in an annual ceremony. Prickett and Timmermans chose four specific stories to track, working backwards from death, tracking down relatives and friends of the deceased. All the while, they tracked how the bodies were not claimed for various reasons, and that is where the real story is.

When you hear the phrases “unclaimed body” or “indigent burial”, most people automatically think the person was homeless, or maybe a drifter who just happened to die in a city with no close personal ties. While there is an element of homelessness in the case of one of the four people, it turns out all four people were very much like you and me… or people we know and can identify. They were also people who ran into problems, typically later in life, that severely financially or emotionally affected them. A couple of the people knew the end was near, while a couple others just died doing the everyday routines of life. Regardless of their backgrounds or method of death, they also had one common bond-- nobody wanted to claim the body afterward.

These weren’t strangers, or people who couldn’t be identified. Three of the four people simply were not wanted after the death, and the fourth was claimed at the last minute after a prolonged and expensive custody claim and bureaucracy to get the ashes. In that fourth case, the bureaucracy, redundancy, and petty politics of multiple layers of government processes is laid bare. And those complexities also present themselves in the other three cases, but with the other three it was mostly direct family members simply not wanting to claim the body for various reasons. In the end, the bodies get cremated, and buried in the communal grave.

Prickett and Timmermans don’t necessarily blow the cover off anything we didn’t know, but they manage to discuss several cultural issues that converge in each of these cases, and presumably most every other case in LA County and other large metropolitan areas. First, regardless of the location, the business of death is a very lively and lucrative one. I experienced this first hand when my father suddenly passed away in 2019, and I was in charge of sorting through financial records while setting up cremation, visitation, and funeral arrangements. I was relieved then that my father was a very wise money manager, and a couple of matured life insurance policies helped pay for a proper but not overtly ornate funeral. I can imagine that many Americans are not in that position when the time comes. The cost of burial, or acquiring ashes in person because LA County didn’t permit the shipment of ashes outside the state of California, is frequently a sticking point to bodies being claimed by family members or dependents.

The aforementioned red tape also pops up constantly, from the shipping restrictions to the overlapping departments that weigh down the process with inefficiency. Then you have the petty politics of some people in charge of the agencies, as well as laws that were probably meant to do well but instead complicate the matters of those who care and who can assist in a body claim. All of this weighs on the employees who mostly feel they are doing a public service. Yet when they inevitably age out of the workforce or burn out, restrictive government budgets (and a layer of petty politics) often mean their positions aren’t filled. So those left behind end up doing even more work for less, and they too burn out.

The most disturbing thing though, is how many family members who could make a claim (and likely afford to do so) simply don’t care to do so. Sometimes there’s an old rift between the two parties that never healed, or the responsible party simply doesn’t want to be inconvenienced by the whole costly and timely process. In some cases, transferring the right of claiming a body can happen, but often when the primary party declines, the conversation stops there. The bodies get cremated, ashes sit in boxes, then after three years a couple hundred unclaimed ashes get buried in the most dignified way possible. None of the four people featured were young when they died, they were all in an age range where death is anticipated. Yet when a life full of experiences, love, heartbreak, and lessons learned ends, quite a few of the remaining living people associated with that person simply don’t care to bury the ashes. Those who do care find an uphill battle with bureaucracy, odd laws and limitations, or financial hardship. They want to do something, but in the end they are unable to.

This is a stirring read not only because we get to learn the life stories of the “forgotten”, but we also confront the ills that surround death, bureaucracy, and poverty. Mostly we confront the fact that especially in America, the more we can shove the dead family pariah to the side, the better. Prickett and Timmermans offer some pointers on how to improve relationships with one another, because fixing the funeral industry, bureaucracy, or poverty doesn’t happen overnight. Healing broken family bonds also isn’t instant, but it’s the one channel any one of us can work on to make matters smoother. They also get professional advice on staying healthy and happy, with the one point that stood out universally from the experts was to never ride a motorcycle.

I highly recommend reading this book, not only for the life stories that are so diligently researched and shared, but for the sobering view of some parts of American society we choose to ignore on a regular basis.
 

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I remember travelling a lot as a child for family vacations-- whether it was a brief weekend stay at the beach in Florida, or one of my father’s epic five cities in eight days car journeys throughout the south, I have a lot of great memories of visiting a lot of places. I’d say probably half of the trips involved us staying with family or in a time-share, but the other half were in hotels and I’d say a good third of them were at a Holiday Inn. I’m also fortunate enough to be old enough to remember “the great sign”, the iconic and ginormous green and gold sign with the neon star pointing to a Holiday Inn. The sign was phased out when I was about six so I do recall a few stays or at least passing by this incredibly large nod to light bulbs and color (as well as whatever kitschy group was welcomed on the marquee).

 

My memories of the occasional Holiday Inn stay dovetailed nicely into my undergrad college studies, as one of my senior year management classes had me work on a group project about entrepreneurship. We did our project on Kemmons Wilson, not knowing at the time that two of his own children once attended The University of Alabama (and the Wilson family is still very influential within the Culverhouse School of Business). So when I finally got a chance to catch Wilson’s co-authored autobiography, I was glad to get my hands on it.

 

The Wilson/Holiday Inn story is well known-- in the summer of 1951, the Wilson family endured a lengthy road trip to Washington D.C. where the four kids enjoyed the vacation, yet Kemmons was irked by inconsistent services from motel to motel and especially having to pay more per child per hotel room (a common practice then that would double the room rent in Wilson’s case). Wilson declared in a year he would start a chain of hotels that offered consistent service for a reasonable price where kids stayed free. His wife reportedly scoffed at the notion, which Kemmons denies in the book but I have to believe his wife was skeptical to say the least.

 

Lo and behold, about a year later, the first Holiday Inn opened in Memphis with large clean rooms, a swimming pool on site, a reputable restaurant on site, and of course no extra fees for children. Wilson built a few more around Memphis, started connecting with business partners around the Southeast for more hotels, then franchised new locations throughout the country. By the end of the decade, Holiday Inn was rocketing across the country, going international in the 1960s. Like every good business story though, the bottom falls out. For Wilson it was in 1979 when the Holiday Inn board pushed him out, likely because he was still seeing the company as a small family-run company while the board was looking to answer to shareholders. Wilson went on to create a small chain called Wilson World, and yes, the Sammon family stayed at the Disney World location a couple of times in the 80s.

 

Wilson did more than create another hotel chain though. While Wilson World carried his name and lodging ideas, his corporate entities helped create and launch chains such as Embassy Suites, Homewood Suites, and Hampton Inn. Ironically, those upper-tier middle class hotels would be part of a larger group of similar brands that would push Holiday Inn out of the spotlight. That, and the chain’s mistake of getting rid of “the great sign” for a standard road front sign.

In addition to all of the hotels that continued to sprout from Wilson, I was surprised to learn about the other many innovations he was behind including co-op land shares (with Gulf Oil service stations) and hotel-backed time shares.


All of this is included in Half Luck and Half Brains, but unfortunately a little too much is in the book thanks mostly to the structure of the book. The book starts with 20 tips from Wilson, which is a nice and handy checklist of standard life and managerial bits of advice. But co-author Robert Kerr decided to turn each point into a chapter, and by the 15th or so point it’s easy to see the stretching of content. The final few chapters are a little rambling as there’s a healthy dose of Christian teaching and a reassurance that yes Kemmons and his wife really love each other and the kids enjoy their weekly (and later annual) get-togethers. The last few chapters slog along, but there is more than enough to learn about the creation of the legendary hotel chain and brand, as well as the ancillary businesses that Wilson concocted and led.

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When you read a book that was written 20 years ago about then-current political activities and observations, you’re normally being set up for something trapped in a time warp. Public library clearance sales and thrift stores are loaded with books written by pundits for and against past administrations as most if not all clearly missed the mark about whatever they were pontificating about. Thomas Frank’s What’s The Matter with Kansas? is that rare exception. Despite being published in 2004, Frank’s study of how the state of Kansas went from solid Democrat to solid Republican over the previous 20 (and now 40) years is prescient and a great case study as to what’s happening in other states and the country right now.

 

The title of the book is not a slight against the fine residents of Kansas. Rather, it takes the same title of an essay written in 1896 lambasting the Populists party that ruled Kansas in the gilded age, part of the state’s colorful (to say the least) history of moral and political battles in the 19th century.

 

Frank is an unapologetic lefty leftist, a supporter of Bernie Sanders, and an obvious polar opposite of today’s hard-right administration. Yet Frank is also extremely critical of Democrats not only in this book, but in a 2016 follow-up Listen, Liberal where he correctly predicted Donald Trump’s win in the 2016 presidential election. In What’s the Matter with Kansas?, Frank also takes aim at Bill Clinton’s triangulation attempts to woo over conservatives in the 1990s, and surely he would later think the same of the Obama and Biden administrations, as well as the Kamala Harris presidential run in 2024. So unlike a lot of pundits’ of the past, Frank does manage to share a fairly balanced approach to his observations despite his obvious political bias.

 

Frank covers growing up in Kansas in the 1970s and 1980s, when the state was reliably Democratic-leaning. He does a masterful job of recounting how the rural communities were eventually left behind by Democrats, and became reliably Republican, while conservative communities saw a fracture in the class status. Rich communities of the 1970s and 1980s were consistently “Regan Republicans”, while newer and larger homes owned by even richer people became aligned with even more conservative and religiously charged zealots. As one class of residents left one party, and the other class grew and split into conservative and uber-conservative pockets, the center collapsed. In its wake, voters repeatedly voted for Republican candidates even when the candidates repeatedly failed to deliver anything meaningful for their constituents. The Democrats tried to move to the center, leaving those dependent on liberal-leaning policies without a party, and those on the right looking for even more extreme answers to drive the left even deeper into a corner. Sound familiar?

 

Frank introduces us to several real-life characters who 20 or so years ago would have been seen as lunatics, but now these characters are front and center in our political world. He also dives deep into why these characters still vote against their best interest, even when these same politicians continue to not deliver results. And we’re introduced to the characters who raise hell through manufactured outrage, again a concept that seems crazy then but is very much mainstream now. These characters raise hell not for money or fame, but because they feel “called” by some higher power to “do something”.

 

As you’re reading this book, you’re not thinking about 2004, it’s clearly today and clearly Frank either lucked into the right place at the right time or he could see how a state like Kansas was a microcosm for what was developing in the future across the country. When you read the final chapter, Frank’s summary of what he observed while growing up and what he discovered when going back to Kansas in the early 2000s punches you in the gut. His observations of what could happen have all come to fruition, and so clearly have his observations come through you almost want to ask Frank for tonight’s Powerball numbers. And you also realize that what we’re going through now was not started in 2016 or 2008 or 2000, but it’s been building to a crescendo for more than 40 years.


I feel this is a must-read for those trying to understand why we’re at where we’re at, and why people have continued (and will continue) to put people in power who have no interest in actually representing the people who put them in office. It doesn’t necessarily provide hope, but it does provide a clear picture as to how we got here and perhaps a path forward. It also shines a light on why some voters on the left are looking at a Zohran Mamdani or Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez style candidate, as the right gets more extreme and the left continues to listlessly drift to the right-center to grab a few voters at the expense of the voters who used to constantly check the box for them. Frank saw this coming years ago, and you’ll nod your head over and over again in the realization that a lot of his observations sadly were way too on point 20 years later.

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After a lengthy read about the serious discussion of Reconstruction, I needed a much lighter in subject matter and size read, and I definitely found it with Michael Kassel’s dissertation on WKRP in Cincinnati. We recently watched the entire series on DVD, thanks to Shout Factory which painstakingly got the music rights to a lot of the songs used in the show for a more authentic first-run feel.

 

The book has only about 125 pages of narrative with a brief synopsis of each episode in the back. Since I watched the whole series, I was able to breeze through that part after enjoying the first half of the book. Kassel’s book does read more like a major term paper which is a little unusual, and he is admittingly a bit of a fanboy which comes through in some passages but thankfully doesn’t ooze out in the telling of the series. What really makes this an enjoyable read is Kassel’s source material-- most of it from first-hand interviews he did with the actors around 1990. The original series had been off the air for about ten years, the ill-fated reboot was in syndication, and a lot of the memories were still fresh. Given how some of the prime actors as well as series creator Hugh Wilson have since passed, the original source information is really special. The stories are told from the heart, and not in the schmaltzy E! True Hollywood Story style we’ve grown accustomed to. Assembled in 1993, this book is worth the hunt and few extra dollars spent to track it down since it has been out of print for a long time.

 

Kassel’s retelling covers everything from Wilson’s peripheral experience with Atlanta radio personalities and execs, the idea of the show, and the mad dash to get the pilot cast and produced on a shoestring budget. He covers the ups and downs of the program, and dives deep into the effect of the numerous time slot changes (and the subsequent low ratings), as well as some other potential distractions like political interference from CBS. Kassel also devotes quite a bit of time in sharing how the show managed to cover some difficult topics while developing characters such as Venus Flytrap and Bailey Quarters beyond the usual sitcom stock support cast.

 

Of course the best way to enjoy the show is to watch all 90 episodes (and physical DVDs are so cheap now), but this book is a great companion for providing the backstory to a show that became a cult classic and continues to relate to broadcast pros nearly 50 years later.

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I remember sometime around the 2020 election, there was quite a bit of talk comparing the 2020 election to the 1860 election, implying of course that this was somehow a replay of the days before the Civil War. While history does have a fat back beat, it doesn’t truly repeat itself. If it did, the gambling industry would be churning through bets on exactly when the next past event would predictably cycle through again, and again in the following cycle of events. But while the discussion was going on regarding 1860 vs. 2020, I at least entertained the idea of what if we were not heading into the next Civil War, but the next Reconstruction. What if the first Trump presidency was the nation-splitting event, and the early 2020s was the nation’s attempt to move forward on complex social issues? Would the nation succeed into a progressive movement? Or would it somehow falter like the Reconstruction era did?

 

Roughly 160 years after it occurred, discussions on Reconstruction have essentially been watered down to a) President Andrew Johnson didn’t really want Reconstruction as he was appeasing his Southern ties, and b) any hope of Reconstruction working was forever dashed by a back room deal by Republicans to make Rutherford B. Hayes president following the contested 1876 election. While those elements are part of the Reconstruction story, there is a whole lot more involved. And like any other historical era, it’s extremely complicated. Yet there are lessons to be learned as the event won’t happen again in a precisely-timed cyclical fashion, but there are signs that the nation is once again going through these types of motions. The question now is does the nation follow a similar path post-1877, or is it better than that… or worse?

 

Eric Foner’s 600-plus page analysis published in 1988 manages to reset the conversation to a more historically accurate recounting of the nation from 1863-1877. Foner does an excellent job of telling the story of Reconstruction without falling into the trap of hindsight, which is easy for a historian to do. With attention to detail as well as context from the times, he leads with the facts of The Emancipation Proclamation as the starting agent of Reconstruction. As the focus of the war shifts from reconnecting the Union to Union + the end of slavery, Foner works through the timeline of Presidential Reconstruction under Johnson as the Southern economic and social order was turned on its head, Republican Reconstruction after Johnson’s efforts failed, a stretch of near egalitarianism between the races in the late 1860s and early 1870s, and the intense blowback from Southern Democrats helped in part by increasingly feckless Northerners (of all parties) which resulted in a reversal of fortunes in the mid 1870s. 

 

By 1872, the Democrats started winning back offices both locally and nationally while crafting “The Lost Cause” narrative. The Panic of 1873 set in, caused in large part by investors and municipalities cashing in on the new business of the national railroad. With the overstretched financial commitments to the railroad causing economic pain across the nation, doubts were being sown on how important Reconstruction really was. It led to a Democratic wave in 1874, and the contested 1876 presidential election between the lackluster Hayes and the rich and powerful governor of New York, Samuel TIlden. During this crescendo to the nation’s centennial, outright theft at the ballot box occurred in precincts for local and national elections through opaque laws and intimidation. Local lawmakers openly defied laws and court orders, even staging state-level insurrections. And an unofficial police force called the Ku Klux wreaked havoc throughout the south. Oh, don’t forget to mix in several incredibly audacious decisions by the U.S. Supreme Court. At the center of all of this, was the white hot fire of unadulterated male white supremacy.

 

It’s important when looking back at Reconstruction, and looking at the challenges of the nation since and especially today, to acknowledge the part that male white supremacy plays in our nation’s history. It’s not a popular topic to openly discuss in many quarters, and in certain political establishments, but to stick one’s fingers in the ears and scream, “LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!” doesn’t make the truth go away. The same can be said for the erasing of election laws, oppressing public education particularly at the university level, or systematically removing people and their history from the military if they are Black, Hispanic, female, or queer. The common ingredient that allowed slavery to be legal for much of our nation in the 18th and 19th centuries, and caused a massive blowback to progress for Blacks, women, and immigrants during and immediately after Reconstruction, and why we currently have nationalized troops “liberating” Los Angeles and soon other major metropolitan cities is the same thing-- the white hot fire of unadulterated male white supremacy. Acknowledging its past effects, and what that white hot fire is doing today, is key to not only understanding our nation’s past but the challenges we face today and in the future.

 

Consider today, starting with the chaos of the nation in 2020-- a nation locked indoors by the COVID pandemic, sharply divided by a contested election (although in reality the results weren’t close), and a nation generally tired of four years of Donald Trump. Change was made via the ballot box, and while Democrats made great strides in 2021-22 to move the nation forward, the party just couldn’t find it within itself to maintain that progress. This was caused by the curious resistance of members of congress like Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema, an aging and too comfortable leadership corp at the DNC, as well as a general squishiness by party leaders to assume everything bad was in the rearview mirror. Quite the contrary, as a lack of immediate consequences for the January 6th insurrection allowed the new “Lost Cause” to be communicated the moment Kevin McCarthy kissed the ring at Mar-a-Lago just days after the Joe Biden presidency began. The original “Lost Cause” was spread by yellow journalism in penny newspapers, while the new version quickly went around the world on the internet.

 

The white hot fire of male white supremacy, which had been blazing once again since the re-election of Barack Obama in 2012 (after all, even the white supremacists could chalk up the 2008 win as a fluke), was on full blast as militias of unloved white men grabbed their guns and practiced a little “pew pew” in the rural regions of the nation. Inflation skyrocketed in 2022, and despite coming down with a strong labor market in 2023-24, many Americans were seeing a different reality as they found it hard to pay the bills. This wasn’t the antebellum planter class losing its workforce and economic structure, but it was a vast majority of voters feeling like they had lost the economic and class war. Clearly change had to happen, or so they believed, and change was the previous president who miraculously avoided prison in four scandals during his time out of office. Disastrous Supreme Court decision whittled down individual rights, and the new administration even put Reconstruction’s 14th amendment in the crosshairs, which Foner presciently noted even in the 1870s it was causing problems with interpretation thanks to the lawmakers’ vague language when writing the law.


And there’s still the unseen consequences of today’s activities and decisions, that could easily make you feel in 1870-something all over again. The Ku Klux have traded in their white robes and horses for ID-free tactical gear and pickup trucks. “ICE” sounds so much cooler, literally and figuratively, than “KKK” does. One has to wonder if crypto, the housing crisis, or more likely the burning of billions of dollars in cash all in the name of the AI race will soon be the equivalent of overextension on railroad investments that causes a giant financial crash. There’s certainly no shortage of robber barons, a new gilded age, when looking at billionaire tech bros now and comparing them to titans of industry then. And of course, at the center of it all, is the white hot fire of unadulterated male white supremacy.


Reading Foner’s book helps clarify a lot of the Reconstruction events, and the causal effects of seemingly smaller events at that time, in why Reconstruction ultimately didn’t work. There were structural flaws, and personnel flaws, but in the end a lot of white Americans north and south just weren’t up to the opportunity. Much like people today have memory-holed a lot of what has happened in this country over the past 15-20 years, it’s easy to see how by the mid 1870s enough people shrugged their shoulders and decided a facsimile of the previous status quo (oppression, but without the awkwardness of slavery!) was just fine with them. It took about 90 years for the country to again offer equal rights through the law to Blacks, women, and other minority groups. It’s been about 60 years since that era, and it doesn’t take much to see how the pendulum could be swinging back towards another long stretch of 60+ years with reduced rights and restricted freedom to all Americans. As you read the book, you become enriched with the history of the past, but you shake your head reading too much tied to the present and the future.

 

Although this is an older book, and a bit of a read at 600 pages, it is a must-read for Americans today. As I mentioned it not only helps reset what really happened during Reconstruction, it helps paint part of the picture of today. It’s not a mere repeating of history, but it is a warning sign and a reminder that a series of seemingly unconnected events and people can alter the course of history for the worse despite the best of intentions at first.

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Jerry Coleman was a solid infielder. Not spectacular, but an all-star and rookie of the year candidate who was a key cog in the Yankees' dynasty of 1949-53. Historically on the same level of dependable infielders such as Craig Grebeck, Miguel Cairo, and Tom Herr, Coleman’s peak as a player came in 1950 with his career-best .287 batting average and MVP honors in the Yankees’ 1950  World Series sweep of the Phillies. While he would go on to greater fame as the long-time voice of the San Diego Padres from 1972-2013, his greatest gift to society was his two tours of duty as a Marine pilot seeing battle in both World War II and the Korean War. In fact, he was the only Major League player to partake in air combat in both wars (Ted Williams only saw combat in Korea, as the navy decided he was better served as an all-star ballplayer and a replacement pilot during WWII in part because he was the sole survivor for his mother). Despite all of these wonderful accolades for the late Coleman, co-author and likely primary author Richard Goldsetin (the author and journalist, not The Village Voice executive editor) mails in this rather bland recounting of a spectacular life and by all accounts amazing human being.

 

Written in 2008, this has all the feeling of Goldstein convincing Coleman a book should be written about his life. Goldstein had previously written books about World War II and baseball intertwining, so this seems natural. Coleman, like many of the “silent generation”, was not one to brag about his life’s experiences. Yet with Coleman’s induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 2005 as a broadcaster, you can pretty much put two and two together. The result is a short book that lacks a lot of details of Coleman’s 40+ years with the Padres, including his one season of managing the team. Coleman was too professional to name names as to the players that gave him an ulcer, but a quick scan of the August 1980 transactions for the Padres will give you enough clues. There’s some good conversation about his time with the Yankees, and his war service, but again the “aww shucks” persona of Coleman leaves much to the imagination. I don’t shame Coleman, that’s how he was, it’s just that he probably wasn’t the best subject for an authorized autobiography simply because he was reluctant to share his story.

 

While the book is short on details and pages, at times it seems long as Coleman (or again, Goldstein) repeats facts ad nauseum-- at least three or four times we’re reminded Mickey Mantle probably wasn’t an alcoholic until after his playing career. There’s an entire chapter written by Coleman’s second wife complaining about how busy Coleman was and how difficult that made their family life. While those of us who worked in sports can relate, it seems like a throw-in to get the book past 200 pages. The final chapter is your typical old man “baseball isn’t like it used to be” pissing and moaning, which is why I don’t read any of Joe Garigiola’s books. Add a heaping topping of Goldstein filling in the gaps with mini lectures on both wars, and you end up with a depressingly dry book that should be a keeper but will end up getting sold back to Thriftbooks or donated to my nearest Goodwill.

 

That’s a shame, because Coleman is a war hero who really was living the American dream. He was an excellent ballplayer, he helped raise presumably wonderful children, and more than a decade after his passing he is still very much beloved in San Diego.

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Another gem from NPR’s Morning Edition co-host Steve Inskeep, author of Jacksonland which I recently read. Having also recently read David M. Potter’s The Impending Crisis, I was able to have a pretty clear picture in my head of what was going on at the time of John C. Fremont’s rapid rise to social and political fame.

 

Fremont’s rise was very much started by his ability to heavily leverage a marriage to the daughter of a well-known senator, Thomas Hart Benton. After getting hitched to a (very) young Jessie Benton, Fremont was able to curry favor with Benton through military channels, allowing him to be one of the first explorers of the western territories while mapping the area for the government.

 

Fremont was, to put it simply, very stubborn yet driven to get things done his way. This meant while forging a pass through to the west coast in the winter of 1843-44, Fremont faced death constantly despite trying to go through impassable mountain terrain. Yet Fremont forged ahead, despite being warned by the natives that it wasn’t best to climb mountain passes in the winter, losing men and horses aplenty along the way. He managed to break through, which then opened a chance for him to lead a small military charge into the new Alta California region which was still in the hands of the Mexicans. While the war with Mexico was continuing in 1846, Fremont cruised into San Francisco Bay (naming the inlet the “golden gate”) and eventually took possession of California from Mexico with very little resistance. Fremont was suddenly the unelected governor of California territory, and he fell in love with the place, staking claim to land that ultimately ended up in the middle of gold prospecting in 1848-49.

 

But Fremont was caught up in a number of affairs, some his own making and others out of his hand. In his own making, his stubbornness came back to burn him as he clashed with the army over who was actually in charge of the territory (and this and the ensuing court-martial would come back to haunt him many years later). Out of his control, the sudden American acquisition of California added fire to the quickly igniting blaze of American sectionalism. With Texas now part of America, adding a slave state to the map, the addition of a large swath of territory that could be slave or free added anxiety to the nation during the Compromise of 1850, and soon after by the Kansas-Nebraska act. Inskeep does a great job of working through the complexities at the time, including Fremont’s anti-slavery but not necessarily pro-civil rights stance (a common stance at the time), as well as Benton’s attempt to remain in public office as an anti-slavery Democrat. That was a nearly impossible task in Benton’s Missouri in the early 1850s as the cultural shifts were happening under his feet, while Benton refused to switch to the emerging party that was anti-slavery, the Republicans.

 

Fremont also got caught up in politics, becoming the first national Republican presidential candidate, in part because he had less of a public record to run on where primary opponents Salmon P. Chase or William Seward were so anti-slavery they could easily be painted as extremists. Fremont fell well short of eventual winner James Buchanon though, as the Republicans in 1856 had no chance at winning a southern state, and Fremont’s attempt to be anti-slavery while also holding nativists opinions against immigrants backfired spectacularly. Southern Democrats and former Whigs not sold on the direction of the new Republican party drove a wedge into the party by claiming Fremont was a Catholic (which he wasn’t) and he had become financially secure while claiming California in part because immigrants had mined gold on his property while taking a fair cut from their work (which was true). Rather than vociferously deny the allegations, Fremont sat back, and he was insulated by Jessie from bad news and opinions to avoid shattering his fragile ego. Undercutting everything else, was the new technology of the telegraph, which helped spread news (and lies) coast-to-coast. Reading the details of the 1856 election does reverberate to current times, just substitute social media for the telegraph and you can almost see history repeating in front of you.

 

The one drawback from the book is there wasn’t enough time devoted to the Fremonts after the election. While Inskeep touches on some highlights, and lowlights including the couple being destitute for much of the rest of their lives, I guess a lesson could be learned that the once rising star of the 1840s and 1850s quickly burned out in the public eye after 1856. Although Fremont has mostly disappeared from the American public’s collective memory, he was very influential in mapping and settling the west while the attention was on Texas and land along the Mississippi River. His failed presidential run could be equated to other failed yet influential runs at the office such as Barry Goldwater’s in 1964. Jessie also played a part, albeit on the periphery, elevating women’s rights and political activity to a national level even though it would be 80 years before women nationally got the vote.

 

Despite the lack of an additional 20-30 pages of the couple’s last years, spent mostly apart from each other, this is an informative read that will help fill some of the gaps of anyone’s pre-Civil War education.

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The Washington Senators (first edition) were so terrible for the final 25 or so years of their experience, and they were dwarfed in ineptitude by their expansion replacement from 1961-71, the club is mostly shoved in the back of the baseball history storage unit. Yet there was a stretch of about 10 years from the mid 1920s through the mid 1930s where the Senators were a contender and even a world champion. Damn Senators covers the Senators rise to the 1924 World Series championship, allegedly centered around the author’s grandfather, Joe Judge.

 

I say allegedly because even though the book is positioned around Joe Judge’s experience, the book mostly features the occasional mention of his grandfather through second-hand accounts. That’s because Joe Judge died about 18 months before grandson Mark was born. While the grandfather was mentioned here and there, Mark Judge does a pretty good job at describing the ascent of the Senators (actually known more affectionately as the “Nationals” in the day) from second division tenant to champion. While Joe Judge is occasionally dropped in, there’s plenty of coverage of Walter Johnson, the thrilling game 7 of the 1924 World Series, and how important the team was to the predominantly Black neighborhood around Griffith Stadium. So Joe Judge is a bit of an afterthought to the main story, but Mark Judge did a remarkable job of pulling together newspaper accounts of the team’s history prior to the long-term flatlining the team went through before moving to Minnesota.

 

An aside on the author, if the name Mark Judge rings a bell it may be because of the Brett Kavanaugh hearings in 2018. Judge was identified as a 3rd party in the room when Kavanaugh allegedly sexually assaulted Christine Blasey Ford 30 years earlier. While Judge denied any association with the situation, his other written works about growing up as a teenage alcoholic, and writing a book about his experience during the hearings titled The Devil's Triangle: Mark Judge vs the New American Stasi doesn’t bode too well for his reputation.

 

Regardless of the author’s background, the grandfather who doesn’t play much of a role in the book does require a little bit of respect. Judge played 20 years in the majors, 18 with the Senators. His prime days were well before the Major League All-Star game, yet he racked up more than 2300 hits and had a career fielding percentage at first of .993. He also batted .385 in the 1924 World Series, and finished 3rd in the 1928 AL MVP balloting. Baseball-reference doesn’t show him similar anywhere in his career to a Hall of Famer, but he’s right up there with borderline HOF-worthy players like Mickey Vernon and Keith Hernandez. So even though Judge isn’t a prominent character in this book, he certainly played a key part in the Senators’ rise and eventual championship.

 

This is a quick and easy read that is also informative, and most importantly it fills a gap in baseball literature that often overlooks the first major league club in the district.

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Is the United States heading to a civil war?

 

Honestly I can’t say. Honestly, you can’t say. Anyone who says they know what’s happening next in this country doesn’t really know what’s happening next. Whatever it is, it's likely not good, and that observation is backed up by this must-read The Impending Crisis, America Before the Civil War 1846-1861 by David M. Potter. Potter passed away five years before this book was published, but thankfully it was completed by Don Fehrenbacher and later earned a Pulitzer Prize.

 

There are many lessons one can learn from reading this book. One of the most important things to pull from this study is the long arc to chaos. That seems ironic given the daily chaos of today’s times, but often the start of a catastrophic national event takes years if not decades to form. While the book focuses on the years 1846 - 1861, with the key starting event identified as the Wilmot Proviso, it is pretty clear that the origins of the civil war can arguably (convincingly) be traced back to the Missouri Compromise of 1820. One could also argue that it actually stretches even further back to the Slave Trade Act of 1807 (which ended the African slade trade), but the point is the origins of the start of the civil war start well before most people give credit to. It was well before the bombardment of Fort Sumter, the raid of the Harpers Ferry arsenal by John Brown, and numerous other events.

 

The Missouri Compromise seemed like a good idea at the time-- slavery would be banned from states north of the 36’ 30 parallel while it was still accepted in the rural south. The thinking behind this was slavery would eventually just go away, especially with the slave trade over. Yet the unplanned came to reality, as the nation continued to spread westward. Territories in the western portion of the Louisiana purchase, as well as the recently conquered Texas and “new” Mexico territory, created the opportunity for slavery expansion even if the logistics of it didn’t make sense. Following the Wilmot Proviso which was introduced in 1846 (and thus starts this book), legislators and even the executive branch continuously went back to the merits of the 1820 compromise, which often temporarily kicked the can of the issue of slavery until the next crisis came up. As another crisis popped up, and they tended to do so more frequently in the 1850s, simply leaning on the agreement from more than 30 years prior wasn’t enough to actually address the issue. Adding to this issue was the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854 which negated the compromise, followed by the Dred Scott Supreme Court decision in 1857. The road to civil war sped up very quickly after 1854, yet the pavement was laid 24 years prior.

 

Another lesson learned is that not everything is as it seems, both past and present. First in the present tense, we are often told the Kansas-Nebraska Act was a battle strictly of abolitionsists and pro-slavery proponents fighting for the inclusion or exclusion of slavery north of 36’ 30. While that is somewhat true, Potter provides evidence it was mostly a battle of pro-slavery southerners and pro-real estate northerners keen on having a national coast-to-coast railroad run through their section of the country. Having slavery approved in this region wasn’t necessarily a moral sin, as it was a bad look for a business opportunity. Much like the Missouri Compromise didn’t really solve the slavery issue, relying on people to eventually give up the notion of slavery, the Kansas-Nebraska Act also left the decision to the territorial settlers through popular sovereignty. Again a good idea in theory, but it became a major problem rife with ballot box stuffing and other more severe chicanery by squatters looking to take control of the territory’s legislative and executive powers (which they briefly did). On top of all of this, the abolitionist fire in the northeast was stoked by over-the-top press reports about what was really happening in the territories. In terms of the past tense, Potter does a wonderful job of framing these events to help the reader try to understand how things may have appeared at the time, as historians often fall into 20/20 hindsight. Without any mass media to alert people of what was going on, very few people had a grasp as to the slow-motion peril the nation really was in. Fast forward to today, and a mass media that is more interested in clicks and celebrity news (HOW DID GENE HACKMAN DIE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?) not to mention monetizing division and foreign propaganda, and once again you have a majority of the population that has no clue how the Constitution is in the shredder.

 

It’s all downhill from there with the Dred Scott decision and the raid on Harpers Ferry (which served mostly to freak out southerners who were already on edge about potential slave revolts), yet there is a common theme among all of this history that people can relate to today. Time and time again the hostilities could have been calmed down somewhat had somebody in congress had actually done something about it. And that’s not just national hostilities, but also within the halls of congress as names were called and congressmen were physically beating each other up while in session. Most jarring was the timing of Southern secession, which at first wasn’t a guaranteed thing yet it rapidly sped up in the winter of 1860-61 while very few people in power did anything to stop it. This includes the much-maligned James Buchanan, who does get a little break by Potter, but he is still largely to blame for the botched Lecompton Constitution of 1857 and his lame duck action (or lack thereof) prior to Abraham Lincoln’s inauguration in 1861.

 

So to review, a mix of well-intentioned but generally weak laws, controversial laws that overrode the previous weak laws, appalling Supreme Court decisions, feckless elected officials, a tense national election, sectionalism, and a surprise event or two that lights the tinder box, and you have a civil war. A perfect storm that came to head a good 40 years after the clouds started forming. How does this compare to today? You can take your pick of all of the above and you’ll find something that fits each category. Add foreign financial influence, social media malevolence, and one party in a two-party system that is clearly not devoted to true constitutional illiberalism, and it’s very likely the final product is not very good.

 

Is it a civil war on the horizon? It’s hard to tell. Is it a catastrophic era of civil and political destruction? That book likely won’t be written for another 80 years, and none of us will be around to read it. Whether there is a United States of America then is less certain.

 

This book is a must read, as it will clearly show you how a series of seemingly random events can coalesce into something tragic over a long period of time, and seem like it all just happened in a matter of moments.

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I moved this one up in the queue shortly after John Feinstein passed away earlier this year. I remember when he would fill in for Jim Rome on his radio show, it wasn’t the usual blowhard fill-in for Rome. This guy had a pretty good way of handling callers, guests, and having an entertaining show which even Rome didn’t have every day.


One read of this particular book though, reminds you of why Feinstein was such a beloved writer. Minor league baseball players don’t often get covered well in print. Whether it’s the irreverence of the stories behind Dirk Hayhurst’s The Bullpen Gospels or the skull-crushing boredom as written by Lucas Mann in Class A: Baseball in the Middle of Everywhere (seriously, don’t waste your time with that dreck), most minor league baseball books focus on the hopelessness of playing in the minor leagues. And yes, there is some hopelessness when you’re working your way up to the big leagues, but Feinstein does an incredible job of painting hope for every main character in this book.


Feinstein visited several International League teams in the summer of 2012, zeroing in on a wide range of characters including players battling their way up, former big leaguers desperately trying to get back into the bigs, managers (including the awesome Charlie Montoyo), and even an umpire. Feinstein does something that the other books attempt but don’t always connect properly-- he makes each character a human the reader can relate to, even though you’re most likely not a professional athlete. By presenting a human and relatable side to everyone, the reader can easily root for every major character as well as those who make a cameo appearance. When a player gets called up to the bigs, you feel the excitement. When a player gets waived or cut, you feel the sadness or anger. Since this book follows characters from 13 years ago, you will look them up on Google to see what happened to them since. That's how well Feinsetin told their stories-- regardless of how far these players made it, you want to know how they're doing today.


So with that said, my only knock on this book is the title is misleading. Some of these people you do know their names, such as the aforementioned Montoyo as well as Scott Elarton, Nate McLouth, Scott Podsednik, and Brett Tomko. Thanks to Feinstein’s work here, you know more players who otherwise would have passed through the annals of baseball history like a wisp of dust blown off the diamond because the player only managed a handful of games in his MLB career.


One last thing this book does extremely well is convey the crisis that every professional athlete has regardless of his or her chosen sport-- a career that often ends around the age of 30. The pros who play 15, 20, even sometimes 25 years are few and far between. While MLB doesn’t have a salary cap, the same situation happens in capped leagues such as the NBA, NFL, and NHL; top prospects and superstars get the big contracts, while everyone else makes up “the middle class” that fights with the next round of upcoming prospects to stay in the big leagues. Whether it’s an injury, ineffectiveness, or just getting lost in a numbers game, practically every professional athlete is going to have to ask if they’re “washed up” around the age of 30. Then comes the next question-- what’s next? I’ve seen it first hand in my years working in the NHL, or even before then lucking out with my baseball show co-host Fred McGriff shortly after he left the game. You may have some of the most talented, even champion-calibre athletes who don’t know what to do with themselves when most of the rest of society is hitting its career stride around the age of 40. 


The stories shared here, and if you look up how the people have done since this book was published, are valuable reminders of how hard it is to get to the major league level. It’s even harder to stay at that level for a long time. And it’s even harder still to find a dignified and empowering exit strategy for when that time comes. It's a time that is often a transaction on a website or social media press release that is cold and impersonal. Even if you’re not a huge baseball fan, you’ll find yourself rooting for everyone here, and that even includes the umpire. Highly recommended summer reading.

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I don’t recall ever flying on Eastern Airlines, but I vividly recall my grandparents flying Eastern every time they came down to Tampa from New York. My memories of Eastern therefore are pretty good, as I remember seeing the blue and white or silver and blue Eastern jets parking at the old Airside B at Tampa International Airport throughout the 1980s. Back in those pre-9/11 days, you could actually meet your family at the gate at the airport, and Eastern took up at least 90% of the gates at the terminal. I vaguely recall Eastern being in a lot of financial trouble in the early 90s, and then one day the airline went away. So when I saw this book at Thriftbooks, I snapped it up to see the how and why the airline that once proudly proclaimed to be the “wings of man” went belly up. Unfortunately this wasn’t the best book to find out all of the answers.

I had my suspicions when I saw the book was published in 1992. “Uh oh…”, I thought. This was a reactionary book, given that Eastern went adios in 1991. Sure enough, author Jack E. Robinson was an Eastern and Texas Air insider who definitely had an axe to grind (and as to why I’ll get to in a moment). A lot of this book was clearly written to show the world how Robinson would have done things differently and presumably better, and we can assume he was doing this to tell other businesses that he could run the business better than Eastern was run. That effort didn’t exactly work out in real life though. Robinson would become the president of Florida Air in 1992, an intrastate airline that failed pretty much right out of the gate. He struck it rich when he sold a cellular company in the Caribbean, then he funded several losing political campaigns that were sullied by accusations of drunk driving, sexual assault, and failure to pay some big ticket purchases. Ironically that would earn him points in today’s Republican party, but Robinson died in 2017.

The pros of this book include Robinson’s “in the room” proximity to some of the key decision makers at Texas Air and Eastern in the final years of the airline’s existence. While Robinson leans too much into his personal biases (especially against Eastern’s mechanical union leader, Charlie Bryan) there is a lot of detailed information on how Eastern was really in trouble years before Frank Lorenzo’s union-busting leadership, and Eastern’s multiple attempts (with the help of a sympathetic bankruptcy judge) to stay alive before its liquidation in 1991. Robinson does cover Frank Borman’s poor judgement, Lorenzo biting off more than he could chew, and how Eastern did have some good ideas under court-appointed trustee Martin Shugrue before impatient creditors botched several last-minute deals.

But what outweighs the pros are the cons of Robinson always claiming to have the right answers, as well as a full chapter (and the post-script) revolving around the failed purchase of Eastern Commuter line Bar Harbor Airlines to Robinson and his investors. The Bar Harbor story is supposed to be a microcosm of Eastern’s bungling business operations, but it’s mostly just Robinson belly-aching about not getting control of Bar Harbor before Eastern folded. Knowing how poorly Robinson did with Florida Air only makes the waste of 40-50 pages even more insufferable.

Yes, some things Lorenzo or Shugrue did could have been done better, and I’ll give Robinson the benefit of the doubt that maybe some of his ideas or opinions would have made a positive difference. Generally speaking though, and hindsight being 20/20, regardless of what anyone at Eastern or Texas Air could have done the airline would likely have failed. The main culprit was deregulation of the airline industry in 1978. The airlines that survived either merged with complimentary airlines, or they were nimble low-cost carriers like Southwest or Jetblue. Poorly-managed airlines, or those over-leveraged (financially or with assets like too many different types of jets), likely didn’t make it. Along with Eastern, Pan Am would go bankrupt in 1991. TWA wasn’t too far behind, and airlines that couldn’t keep up like Continental or America West eventually got gobbled up by the big boys. And of course, there were sometimes things out of the airlines’ control, such as a recession or the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait (as in the case of Eastern) that can sink an airline.

 

Those are the basics of the airline industry over the past 50 years. But Robinson probably had all the answers for those problems too. He just didn’t have enough time to write about it while he was running a failing airline, or having the skeletons in his closet unveiled while running for office. There are far better books about the success and failures of airlines (try Thomas Petzinger’s “Hard Landing”), as this one is more of a Frontier or Spirit Airlines economy version of the industry.​

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There’s an old saying for the partying type: don’t mix your alcohol. Generally speaking, drinking beer and liquor in the same setting is a bad idea. Likewise for sampling a little bit of everything in the liquor cabinet at once. My reading habits are similar to this rule of alcohol consumption: read a sports book, then read a political or history (or political history) book. One is beer, one is liquor, keep the two apart from one another. I tend to follow this because the depression of a contemporary political book or the drabness of some history books needs a lift from the normally light sports book.

 

It’s a good practice, in practice. Yet if you knew me in college, you know I didn’t always follow that sage advice about consuming my different alcohols at the same time. So allow me a Rock House beer chug followed by a swig of Captain Morgan spiced rum here, as my latest read mixes sports with politics. Unlike my college keg conquests, this is one I didn’t regret the next day.

 

First, let’s get some important clarity out of the way. This story involves the Washington NFL team, now known as the Commanders, but for 87 years known as the Redskins. Given we’re talking about that time period of the team, I will refer to them as the Redskins or simply the “Skins” with no malice intended. Second, the title of this book is actually very misleading. John F. Kennedy had very little to do with the integration of the Washington Redskins, and in fact with a lot of the civil rights movement in the early 1960s as he chose not to upend his entire agenda by infuriating southern white citizens and their legislators by putting civil rights first on the to-do list. I’ll leave it up to you to do your homework on JFK and his reluctance to jump into race relations, but suffice to say it really wasn’t until the culmination of several egregious and tragic racist acts in 1963 that finally moved the nation (and the president) a little closer to addressing the issue. After JFK’s assassination in Dallas in 1963, new president Lyndon Johnson took the easy win, and bent enough elbows in congress to pass the Civil Rights Act in 1964 and the Voting Rights Act in 1965.

 

While JFK was mostly hands off in this issue with the Redskins, he and his administration did encourage former Arizona representative and (then) current Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall to force the issue. That issue was made easier when the opponent to integration was noted racist and antisemite George Preston Marshall. Marshall had made a family fortune with a chain of laundromats in the Northeast, and he invested that fortune in 1932 with the new Boston Braves of the NFL. The team would change its name to Redskins in 1933, and despite quickly building a championship caliber club, the city of Boston in 1930s Depression America kindly took a pass. Feeling slighted by the lack of support, Marshall moved the team to Washington D.C. where it promptly won the 1937 NFL championship.

 

The NFL was a very different league then compared to today, and it was surprisingly progressive at first as there were a handful of black players in the late 1920s and early 1930s. But as the league grew, national habits settled in and black players mysteriously were not invited to camps regardless of their talent level. Much like Major League Baseball, there was an unwritten rule that the sport was open only to white athletes. That would change in 1946, and as NFL teams with black players tended to play better and win more championships, waddya know teams were a little more open to integrating. A similar occurrence played out in baseball, and I am a big believer in Hank Aaron’s observation that one reason why the National League won way more All-Star games in the 1950s and early 1960s (and later started winning more World Series than the American League) was the proliferation of black players on NL clubs instead of the rival AL teams.

 

The league integrated, with the exception of the Redskins, who despite being a mostly terrible team throughout the 1950s bypassed black stars at the annual rookie draft such as Rosey Grier and John Henry Johnson for mostly mediocre white players. Part of this was Marshall’s business plan to capitalize on then being the southernmost NFL team. With a large radio network mostly in the south, having a lily-white team was appealing to southerners, and Marshall even changed the words of “Hail to the Redskins” from having the team “fight for old D.C.” to “fight for old Dixie”. In addition to blatant racism, Marshall was an overbearing owner who often overruled his coaches, sometimes appearing on the sidelines to call plays during a game. After finishing a woeful 1-12-1 in 1961 (in fact, not winning their first game until the last game of the season against the equally inept second-year Cowboys), the Skins had the first pick in the 1961 draft. This was when Udall saw his opportunity.

 

Pressure had been building in the black press as well as from long-suffering fans for the team to sign black players for years, but the 1962 season would be the first for the team in the brand new state-of-the-art DC Stadium (later rechristened RFK stadium following Robert Kennedy’s assassination in 1968). Marshall was expecting a windfall of new revenue in the larger and cleaner suburban stadium that was an upgrade from the aging Griffith Stadium on the outskirts of the Howard Univerity campus. But DC Stadium was built on public land, thus owned by the district which was managed by the federal government. Udall, backed by the Kennedy administration, challenged Marshall’s ability to play in the stadium with a segregated team. If Marshall didn’t sign black players, Udall and the federal government would terminate the stadium’s lease with the team. Obviously Marshall didn’t take this well, but over the course of time he saw the writing on the wall and eventually drafted Ernie Marshall out of Syracuse before trading him to Cleveland for Bobby Mitchell and Leroy Jackson in an attempt to win now and not later.

 

The Redskins were moderately better on the field over the next few seasons, and in a tragic twist the team won the trade outright when Marshall died from leukemia in 1963. All was not well for the Redskins though, as a series of strokes rendered Marshall unable to do much (not the least, be in the much-coveted public spotlight) for the final several years of his life. Call it poetic justice or karma, but this hell-on-Earth method of slow death does seem like just retribution for Marshall who always played the role of the victim in his younger years. Despite his claims of doing the “greater good” for black residents of the district by hiring many as Griffith Stadium ushers or by not segregating the Griffith Stadium seats during games, it was a real estate ultimatum that finally moved the needle.

 

While integration didn’t instantly make the Redskins a better team, they finally moved past their racist (to blacks) past and eventually built a contender. Doug Williams piloted the Redskins to their first Super Bowl championship in 1988, becoming the first black starting quarterback in the NFL to accomplish the feat, with the assistance of black superstars Darrell Green and Ricky Sanders to name a couple. In 2020, under intense public and corporate pressure again, the team dropped the Redskins name, finally erasing most every connection to Marshall in the team’s history.


Despite the inadvertent credit given to JFK, this is a great read on how the administration and in particular one government leader used legal means prior to the Civil Rights Act to force a stubborn white supremecist to get with the times. It’s a much-needed reminder that government can do good things through means that put the opposing side in a damned if you do/damned if you don’t situation. And it serves as a reminder that history really does treat the people on the wrong side of it rather harshly, even if that doesn’t placate one’s present-day desires.

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I don't recall the exact topic of the article, but I recall reading a story in the Guardian UK in November or December that mentioned this book. It raised an eyebrow, and I went to my trusty Thriftbooks app and ordered a copy, not even looking for a deal but paying full price for a new book. That's how you know it was an important book! I got a reminder that it was a hot book when Thriftbooks actually refunded my purchase because somehow the last copy was sold between when I bought it and when the app tried to ship it. So I waited a few more days and grabbed the next copy.

Some books I read are "must reads" because I think they may be interesting or entertaining to a niche audience or to everyone as a whole. I don't grant that status to just any book, just like I don't just issue a 100% to my college students for a pretty good final project submission (just ask them, they know). So when I say you should go out and get a book, you know that's quite an endorsement.

Well, my friends in America and "the West", you need to go get this book. Buy this book. Check it out from the library. Share it with a friend or a family member.

If you're wondering why you need to get this book and get it and read it and think about it now, the short answer is it can help explain what is going on in this country today as well as other democracies around the world. Peter Turchin created a data model which he explains with plenty of depth and insight (I recommend jumping to the appendices after chapter 3, then returning to read chapter 4 as he suggests to get the whole scope of where his model comes from). Turchin uses data of the rise and fall of kingdoms, empires, and societies since the Roman empire. His analysis shares in a numeric way what I've said-- history doesn't repeat, but it has a fat backbeat. If you can't think of history as music, Turchin will make you see it as a series of waves-- repetitive yet consistent. With that in mind, it shouldn't surprise anyone that America is going through one of those waves-- the coming down from peak point of the wave is where we're at. And I regret to say we're probably not near the valley of the wave at this point in time.

Turchin diligently describes how America is at the end of an average historical cycle, a pendulum that always swings from prosperity and actions that benefit the greater good of a society, to the bottom falling out as those with wealth and power try to lord both over the common people. The last time this happened in America, was from 1830-1860, as the aristocracy of the southern states was challenged and then defeated by the aristocracy and industrial strength of the northern states (who needed southern state agriculture to build such aristocracy and strength). Perhaps you know that endgame as the U.S. Civil War. The pendulum eventually swung back in the 1930s, after the disastrous Great Depression, where the rich and powerful were undone by closing banks, sky-high tariffs, and a working class that was sick and tired of being abused. For the next 40 years, there was an unwritten agreement between the (white) working class, business owners, and the federal government, to create safety nets that lifted everyone (New Deal agencies followed by Great Society agencies). But then in the 1970s, the pendulum started going the other way.

Turchin argues that what America is dealing with today isn't solely because of the actions of Donald Trump, or Ronald Reagan, or even politicians in general (although all three are partially to blame). What has continually raised up nations and later brought them down-- elites, counter-elites, and the working class-- have been working against each other over the past 50 years. Real wages are flat, the next generation is not better off than the previous one, and the rich get insanely richer. The question is, does a major disruptive event like The Great Depression shake everything to its core, and return people to their senses to help lift all the boats in the harbor? Or is the major disruptive event more akin to the Civil War, which in the 2020s would be far bloodier and perhaps less binding than the results from 1861-65?

Turchin won't predict exactly what happens-- he is after all a data analyst and not a soothsayer. But he does mention more than a few times in the book that he predicted (with data and his model) that America was heading for a rough patch in the 2020s, and he did so in 2010. Turchin does occasionally sprinkle in a little bit of Nate Silver smugness about his models vs. others, but you can't really argue with what he has discovered with historical cycles and how they compare to events in America over the past 200 years. You can argue some of the same strains are being seen in Canada, which up until recently seemed to be destined to elect a metric version of Trump as its new prime minister. You can argue the same is happening in the UK, in the aftermath of Brexit, as the UK tries to stay relevant in the post-EU world. And with the Afd winning 20% of the vote in Germany, it's hard not to see the same thing happening there. There are plenty of contemporary examples, and it's hard not to see this explanation fitting most or all of them.

The only thing that is certain is the uncertainty. At the very least, this book gives you a new perspective on how we got here, and some potential outcomes. Some are good, many are bad. The big mystery is how bad it will get, how long it will last, and sadly how much blood will be spilled in the meantime.

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You may have never have heard the name Eddie Waitkus, but there's a good chance you've heard of Roy Hobbs. Hobbs is the protagonist of Bernard Malamud's 1952 book The Natural. The book became a movie in 1984 with Robert Redford playing the star role, and both the book and film are considered baseball classics. A plot device in The Natural is Hobbs getting shot by a deranged fan, Harriet Bird. That plot device was very likely pulled from an actual event in 1949, as Waitkus was shot by a schizophrenic obsessed fan, Ruth Ann Steinhagen. While Waitkus' brush with death was a key part in the story of Roy Hobbs, from there the similarities end. Thankfully this book dives into the tragic life of Waitkus to give a much-needed backstory to a human being who for the most part has been relegated to a footnote status in both the book and film.

There's no doubt Waitkus' life was affected by the encounter with Steinhagen, but author John Theodore does an excellent job in sharing the other details including Witkus' traumatic three years of service in World War II, featuring an interview with one of Waitkus' foxhole buddies who also witnessed the horrors of war. In addition to wartime PTSD and the PTSD of the attempted murder, Waitkus had to fight the usual "average player" battles to stay relevant in Major League Baseball. Pushed out of Wrigley Field by a "change is good" GM and owner, Waitkus was integral in the 1950 "Whiz Kids" Phillies pennant team before a falling out with his manager. Constantly relegated to a backup role, Waitkus bounced around to Baltimore and then back to Philly before getting cut in 1955 at the age of 36.

All of this drama made an already introverted Waikus even more introverted, and he brought the stress level down by constantly smoking cigarettes and drinking at the hotel bar. Increasing alcoholism and isolation eventually ended Waitkus' marriage and further strained his relationship with his kids. Drifting throughout much of the 1960s, Waitkus was thrown a lifeline by Ted Williams who hired him as a hitting coach at a Ted Williams youth baseball camp. Waitkus found his feet and his calling, before his life ended too soon due to cancer in 1972.

Theodore not only covers the quick rise and numerous falls of Waitkus, but he also tracks down the sotry of Steinhagen who after being institutionalized briefly lived a mostly quiet life with her family in northern Chicago before passing away in 2012. Preferring not to relive the details of the shooting any more than he already was, Waitkus decided to not press charges.

This is a great book not only for baseball fans, but for fans of American cinematic or literary classics, as the story brings a lot of context to a real "Natural".

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I have long been a proponent of reading and studying history, not only because it interests me, but also because you can learn so much about today and have a window into tomorrow by looking at the past. One of my favorite sayings is, "History doesn't repeat, but it does have a fat backbeat". I've found that to be true more often than not. My recent Thriftbooks purchases, which I'll be reading and reviewing over the next several months, have been heavily focused on the run-up to the U.S. Civil War, the end of Reconstruction, and the demise of democratic societal norms in a battle of elites and non-elites.

I'm sure it's all a coincidence given current events.

But to be honest I bought this book in September or October, and I had my eye on it for a while as I learned about it when author and NPR Morning Edition host Steve Inskeep was promoting a more recent book Imperfect Union (which I will also be reading and reviewing soon). I figured now was a good time to read this, as Andrew Jackson was arguably the first populist president who still has his fans and followers two centuries after he was in office.

So what does Andrew Jackson have to do with American politics today? Consider:

  • He was a man who was easily the first political leader to not come from politics. While he shares a similar background as George Washington in earning much of his fame from the battlefield, Jackson was not an "originalist" politician like the previous presidents were. He was very much the first "outsider" to become a president.

  • He was filled with vengeance from a closely contested presidential election, as he felt (and it could be argued he was correct in thinking) that the 1824 electoral win for John Quincy Adams was stolen by a contingency election engineered by his rival Henry Clay. He rode that "stolen" election claim to victory in 1828 and re-election in 1832.

  • He was a grifter, as Inskeep points out he deftly managed to take control of former indigenous land near Muscle Shoals, Alabama, and sold it to land speculators who were helping the country grow out to the west.

  • He hated government infrastructure, most notably the central federal bank. If there was the alphabet soup of federal programs in the 1820s like there is today, he would very likely try to break them up.

  • He forcibly removed people seen as "foreigners", the native Americans (referred to as "Indians" in the book) who many Americans felt were just as problematic as Black slaves. These people were hardly seen as people, and the population generally felt that the Indians were not equals and thus needed to be swept away elsewhere.

  • He defied the law, including the rather infamous alleged declaration that the Supreme Court made a decision, so the court would have to enforce it.

 

Sound familiar?

 

Inskeep does a great job documenting not only Jackson's moves, but also the parallel moves of John Ross, the chief of the Cherokee Nation at the time of Jackson's presidency. At the heart of the two men's battles, was land. The white Americans needed more of it, as the nation's Manifest Destiny demanded westward expansion. The Cherokees, settled in much of northern Georgia and the Carolinas in the Appalachian mountains, were looking to keep the land they had cultivated while not getting swept up in the forced westward movement of other tribes during the prevalent Indian Removal acts of the time. Ross had the best of intentions, but often made tactical errors that played into Jackson's (and the nation's as a whole) hands, ultimately leading to the botched Trail of Tears from Appalachia to land west of the Mississippi River. After following both Jackson's and Ross' paths, Inskeep concludes the book with a note that the Indians are still very much here despite Jackson's cruelty and efforts. The natives are very much still here, but so are other telltale signs of what was happening 200 years ago that haven't totally vanished from the environment.

The best example is the recent musing of whether someone in the government can and should defy a federal court order. The comparison to Jackson reportedly saying the Supreme Court could go enforce their ruling dates back to an 1832 case (Worcester vs. Georgia) where the state imprisoned white missionaries who were influential with the Cherokees for occupying Cherokee land. It's not that the rogue crew of "guardsmen" cared about protecting Cherokee land, but rather that the land remain "owned" by the Cherokess until the federal government eventually forced them out, leaving the cultivated land for white squatters to move in on. The case was brought to the U.S. Supreme Court after Chief Justice John Marshall personally reached out to the defense's lawyer (sound familiar?) with guidance on how to bring a case to the court for a ruling. Marshall ruled that only the federal government, not an individual state, could negotiate or enforce land agreements with tribes.

Inskeep notes that there is no record of Jackson actually saying the exact words many people today are connecting him to, although there is plenty of evidence Jackson said similar thoughts to other people while clearly feeling the Court could go enforce its ruling if it so desired. Jackson was busy winning re-election in 1832, and by January 1833 he and the state of Georgia slow-walked the verdict long enough to where the newly-elected governor of Georgia released the missionaries without Jackson or the state needing to take any action to enforce or deny the ruling. As much as Jackson despised any oversight of the executive branch, even he knew that defying the ruling would be cataclysmic for the nation. He was also nuanced enough to pick his fights, as this brush-up in Georgia would pale in comparison to the nullification attempts ongoing in neighboring South Carolina. And there's the little detail that imprisoning innocent American citizens who may be blocking a lucrative land grab while removing the previous inhabitants was just incredibly cruel and clearly unconstitutional.

As history would play out, true Indian autonomy would get wiped out in the late 19th century. While there have been many reparations and reservations since then, due to a flood of recent executive orders the short-term fate of Indian citizenship in the states is once again in the air. The cruelty is the point, as is the hope to grab more land and to flex more power whether it is deserved or not. It happened nearly 200 years ago, and it continues to happen today, even though we'd like to close our eyes and wish it isn't happening here.

Do you hear that backbeat? It's the same as it ever was. Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was.

This is a great read for those trying to get a read on where we were, where we are, and well... how did we get here?

A nice find on Thriftbooks as this is a nice collection of stories from one of the best baseball broadcasters of all time. Even though I was a fan of the Blue Jays, a division rival of the Tigers, I always enjoyed hearing the barritone voice of Ernie Harwell. This book was published in 1985, capitalizing on the Tigers' championship 1984 season, and well before the Tigers screwed Harwell into a season of exile with the Angels before returning to the corner of Michigan & Trumbull for the remainder of his Hall of Fame career.

Harwell recounts his start in broadcasting with the Atlanta Crackers in the early 1940s, and how he got a big break in New York City just a few years later. I enjoyed his stories about his first few years as a radio voice of the Dodgers and Giants, including his anticlimactic turn on TV during Bobby Thompson's "Shot Heard 'Round the World" in 1951. He also shares his legendary story where he was traded (as a broadcaster) for a minor league catcher, and his years in Baltimore which I'd venture to guess a lot of people didn't know he did. He also gives his side of the controversial Jose Feliciano national anthem incident in 1968.

Some details of stories get repeated, which either makes Harwell sound like an old man, or in need of a better editor. Regardless, as you read these stories you can almost hear Harwell narrating them which makes them even better. A good pick-up for any baseball fan, but certainly for any long-suffering Tigers fan.​​

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This was one of many finds for me at a book sale about a year ago at one of my nearby libraries (Maricopa County Public Library System). This is an interesting arrangement of stories as it eschews the typical chronological recounting of one of the nation's most celebrated Civil War generals. Instead it breaks up Sherman's story into three parts: the general lifeline, his relationship with his soldiers, and his relationship with his family. While this makes the book a little bit of a different type of reading adventure, it unfortunately means some storylines are rehashed in the second or third chapter which makes you wonder why you're reading it again.

That said, the storyline is interesting because we all know of the Sherman who marched to the Atlantic (via Atlanta) to deliver a crushing blow to the Confederates in 1864. What you may not know is Sherman was practically orphaned at the age of 9, then taken in by the influential senator and Whig politician Thomas Ewing. This new paternal relationship opened doors for Sherman, yet he failed at pretty much every opportunity. He was a terrible cadet at West Point who never saw combat in Mexico or elsewhere. Then he became a failed banker in San Francisco and New York, although that was mostly the fault of ill-timed bank panics.

When Southern states were seceding, Sherman tried to ignore the issue while also signing up to be part of the Union Army. Abraham Lincoln took a liking to him, even though Sherman had a low opinion of the volunteer troops or the upcoming battles he was trying to ignore. Once in the field, his troops were slaughtered in multiple surprise attacks at Shiloh, pushing him to the brink of a nervous breakdown. Yet his lack of "traditional" warfare experience in Mexico helped him during the Civil War as technology and tactics changed. He got a major lift with the siege at Vicksburg, then the march to the sea started which then elevated him to celebrity status (and in some cases higher than fellow general Ulysses Grant). Unlike Grant, Sherman stayed out of politics, and remained in the Army where he lead the country's brutal attack on Native Americans through the 1880s. In the end, there's a mixed bag of success after repeated failures early in life, and an ignominious stance on natives that obliterated that population. He also wasn't a huge fan of the plight of Black people, and may or may not have been party to some attrocities during the march to the sea.

Despite the odd layout of the storytelling, it's a compelling story to read that will definitely shed some more light on the person behind the legend you've heard about in history class. Highly recommend for history nerds.

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