By the close of World War II, Long Island had transformed from a rural corridor to a suburban behemoth. The region became a nationally recognized manufacturing and innovation hub for the military and possessed one of the fastest-growing middle-class populations in the country. But behind the manicured lawns and cookie-cutter cape homes, locals were adapting to new Cold War conflicts and facing anxieties of a potential nuclear fallout. Secret nuclear missile sites and classified government laboratories were established on the outskirts of Suffolk County, often among unaware residents. Soviet spy rings traversed across the island, seeking to steal industry secrets and monitor military installations. Author Christopher Verga and veteran journalist Karl Grossman bring to life the often overlooked history of the Cold War era in Nassau and Suffolk Counties.

In an engaging narrative, The Jews of Long Island tells the story of how Jewish communities were established and developed east of New York City, from Great Neck to Greenport and Cedarhurst to Sag Harbor. Including peddlers, farmers, and factory workers struggling to make a living, as well as successful merchants and even wealthy industrialists like the Guggenheims, Brad Kolodny spent six years researching how, when, and why Jewish families settled and thrived there. Archival material, including census records, newspaper accounts, never-before-published photos, and personal family histories illuminate Jewish life and experiences during these formative years. With over 4,400 names of people who lived in Nassau and Suffolk counties prior to the end of World War I, The Jews of Long Island is a fascinating history of those who laid the foundation for what has become the fourth largest Jewish community in the United States today.

An illustrated treasury of the most magnificent Long Island mansions and a compendium of the architects who designed them.

Drawing on recently declassified documents and extensive interviews with Soviet and American policy-makers, among them several important figures speaking for public record for the first time, Ned Lebow and Janice Stein cast new light on the effect of nuclear threats in two of the tensest moments of the Cold War: the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962 and the confrontations arising out of the Arab-Israeli war of 1973. They conclude that the strategy of deterrence prolonged rather than ended the conflict between the superpowers.

In this conceptually bold project, Heonik Kwon uses anthropology to interrogate the cold war's cultural and historical narratives. Adopting a truly panoramic view of local politics and international events, he challenges the notion that the cold war was a global struggle fought uniformly around the world and that the end of the war marked a radical, universal rupture in modern history. Incorporating comparative ethnographic study into a thorough analysis of the period, Kwon upends cherished ideas about the global and their hold on contemporary social science. His narrative describes the slow decomposition of a complex social and political order involving a number of local and culturally creative processes. While the nations of Europe and North America experienced the cold war as a time of "long peace," postcolonial nations entered a different reality altogether, characterized by vicious civil wars and other exceptional forms of violence. Arguing that these events should be integrated into any account of the era, Kwon captures the first sociocultural portrait of the cold war in all its subtlety and diversity.

"At once mordantly funny and achingly sad, L.I.E. is a soul map for modern suburbia." --Sheri Holman, author of The Dress Lodger Long Island, New York, 1987: Harlan Kessler--raised in Medford, a product of blue-collar Suffolk County, of housing developments and concrete strip malls--graduates from high school. He hangs out, he parties, he plays guitar for the Dayglow Crazies (the local rock-and-roll phenomenon), and he struggles diligently to lose his virginity. He doesn't think about the future much. The Long Island Expressway (L.I.E.) cleaves the landscape, permitting passage west, to the tonier climes of Nassau County and New York City, but to Harlan, this seems like an impossible journey, something beyond his Long Island birthright. And what's worse, evidence is accumulating that Harlan may not exist at all, that he may merely be a character in someone else's story, a fleeting thought in the mind of God. L.I.E. follows Harlan, his family, and his friends through two years of love, sex, death, betrayal, salvation, and enlightenment. In ten intimately interwoven stories, in prose that swings fluidly from gritty realism to heightened metafiction, David Hollander maps an American landscape that is at once vividly familiar and highly exotic, creating an unforgettable portrait of the passage to adult-hood and the search for identity, certain to resonate with legions of readers. By turns dark, funny, raw, and elegant, L.I.E. is the striking debut of a singular voice. The last wisps of afternoon streak and evaporate into blue-gray dusk, submersing Long Island in twilight. Harlan and Rik Giannati sit on the curb outside Rik's house, precisely 211 yards northeast of Harlan's house, the distance punctuated by no fewer than fourteen subtly distinct houses of three ilks: the square, steeple-roofed Granada; the split-level LaSalle; the two-story, three-bedroom Monte Carlo. This last model was the choice of Kessler and Giannati alike some ten years ago when they, too, were assimilated in the mass exodus from Queens to Suffolk County that had gripped the hearts and genitals of so many. The streetlamps began to glow along Rustic Avenue, a cold blue flicker spaced at even intervals, like isolated members of the same species, each shivering in its cage of frosted glass. --From L.I.E.