The young outlaw known as Billy the Kid spent the winter of 1880-1881 in Santa Fe-trying desperately to get out of its jail. He hired lawyers. He wrote the governor. He even tried digging his way out! Nothing worked. Billy only "escaped" the "safest jail in the Territory" in March 1881, when deputies finally escorted him to the railroad station for a trip to southern New Mexico-where a jury of his peers waited to convict him of murder. But just where was this invincible Santa Fe jail? Today, in Santa Fe, two plaques mark the spot, or rather, two competing spots . . . Lynn Michelsohn tracks down historical sources to identify the long-disputed location of Billy the Kid's Santa Fe jail and to provide this brief glimpse of life in the Wild West on the Southwestern Frontier. (10,000 words; 16 photographs, drawings, and maps) Recommended for Western history buffs, Billy the Kid aficionados, and anyone who loves Santa Fe.
Santa In A Stetson — Rebecca Winters
Sudan's modern history has been consumed by revolution and civil war. The country attracted international attention in the 1990s as a breeding ground of Islamist terrorism and recently tensions between the prosperous centre and the periphery, between north and south, have exploded in Darfur. In his latest book, Robert Collins, a frequent visitor and veteran scholar of the region, traces Sudan's history across two hundred years to show how many of the tragedies of today have been planted in its past. The story begins with the conquest of Muhammad 'Ali in 1821, and moves through the Anglo-Egyptian condominium to independence in 1956. It then focuses on Sudanese rule in the post-independence years when the fragile democracy established by the British collapsed under sectarian strife. It is these religious and ethnic divides, the author contends, in conjunction with failed leadership, which have prolonged and sustained the conflict in Sudan.
Holly Hill was a place for Christmas! Holly Hill, the old rambling Stratford homestead in Virginia, on its high hill, looking down the long slope and across the wide fields to the far woods rimming the sky. From Bob, the veteran, within a month of his teens, down to brown-eyed Evelyn, with her golden hair floating all around her, when Christmas came everyone hung up a stocking, and the visit of Santa Claus was the event of the year. They went to sleep the night before Christmas-or rather they went to bed, for sleep was long far from their bright eyes-with delightful expectations and thrills along their backs, and with little squeakings and gurglings, like so many little white mice, and if Santa Claus had not always been so very prompt in disappearing up the chimney before daybreak he must certainly have been caught. For by the time the chickens were crowing in the morning there would be an answering twitter through the house, and with a patter of little feet and subdued laughter small, white-clad figures would steal through the dim light of dusky rooms and cold passages, opening doors with sudden bursts, and shouting "Christmas gift!" into darkened chambers, at still sleeping elders. Then they would scurry away in the gray light to rake open the hickory embers and revel in the exploration of their bulging, overcrowded stockings.
Santas Warehouse Articles
Santas Warehouse Books