McShane examines the uniquely American relation between auto-mobility and urbanization. Deftly combining urban and technological history, McShane focuses on how new transportation systems -- most important, the private automobile -- and new concepts of the city redefined each other in modern America.

The articles in this collection are dedicated to the proposition that human beings make history, not just in the sense of being agents of change in the here and now, but in the sense that we interpret, appropriate and make use of the past for our own purposes in the future. Covering topics that range from teaching history, to the concept of property rights and the discipline of history in the television age, these essays will radically alter the notion of how we 'make history'. It will show that we are never fully able to bend history to our will, and that as we attempt to do so, we are often shocked at the turns it takes, despite our best efforts to shape it for future generations.

The Progressive Era, a few brief decades around the turn of the last century, still burns in American memory for its outsized personalities: Theodore Roosevelt, whose energy glinted through his pince-nez; Carry Nation, who smashed saloons with her axe and helped stop an entire nation from drinking; women suffragists, who marched in the streets until they finally achieved the vote; Andrew Carnegie and the super-rich, who spent unheard-of sums of money and became the wealthiest class of Americans since the Revolution. Yet the full story of those decades is far more than the sum of its characters. In Michael McGerr's A Fierce Discontent America's great political upheaval is brilliantly explored as the root cause of our modern political malaise. The Progressive Era witnessed the nation's most convulsive upheaval, a time of radicalism far beyond the Revolution or anything since. In response to the birth of modern America, with its first large-scale businesses, newly dominant cities, and an explosion of wealth, one small group of middle-class Americans seized control of the nation and attempted to remake society from bottom to top. Everything was open to question -- family life, sex roles, race relations, morals, leisure pursuits, and politics. For a time, it seemed as if the middle-class utopians would cause a revolution. They accomplished an astonishing range of triumphs. From the 1890s to the 1910s, as American soldiers fought a war to make the world safe for democracy, reformers managed to outlaw alcohol, close down vice districts, win the right to vote for women, launch the income tax, take over the railroads, and raise feverish hopes of making new men and women for a new century. Yet the progressive movement collapsed even more spectacularly as the war came to an end amid race riots, strikes, high inflation, and a frenzied Red scare. It is an astonishing and moving story. McGerr argues convincingly that the expectations raised by the progressives' utopian hopes have nagged at us ever since. Our current, less-than-epic politics must inevitably disappoint a nation that once thought in epic terms. The New Deal, World War II, the Cold War, the Great Society, and now the war on terrorism have each entailed ambitious plans for America; and each has had dramatic impacts on policy and society. But the failure of the progressive movement set boundaries around the aspirations of all of these efforts. None of them was as ambitious, as openly determined to transform people and create utopia, as the progressive movement. We have been forced to think modestly ever since that age of bold reform. For all of us, right, center, and left, the age of "fierce discontent" is long over.

For most people in the United States, going almost anywhere begins with reaching for the car keys. This is true, Christopher Wells argues, because the United States is Car Country—a nation dominated by landscapes that are difficult, inconvenient, and often unsafe to navigate by those who are not sitting behind the wheel of a car. The prevalence of car-dependent landscapes seems perfectly natural to us today, but it is, in fact, a relatively new historical development. In Car Country, Wells rejects the idea that the nation's automotive status quo can be explained as a simple byproduct of an ardent love affair with the automobile. Instead, he takes readers on a tour of the evolving American landscape, charting the ways that transportation policies and land-use practices have combined to reshape nearly every element of the built environment around the easy movement of automobiles. Wells untangles the complicated relationships between automobiles and the environment, allowing readers to see the everyday world in a completely new way. The result is a history that is essential for understanding American transportation and land-use issues today. Watch the book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=48LTKOxxrXQ

15-year old Leon Mendoza has enough to worry about trying to stay in the eighth grade and out of lock up. With a depressed mother, a father in jail, and his homies worried that he'll turn snitch, Leon's only chance is to keep it together at school, and hope for a break from the judge. When he steps in to keep a younger kid from being bullied at school, he sets off a series of events that threatens to tear his chances of survival to pieces. Can a proactive P.O., a part time job, and the love of a decent girl be enough to turn Leon's luck and keep him out of lock up?

A fascinating look at the rise and growing popularity of the automobile during the first half of twentieth-century America, which brought with it a dark undercurrent. On the one hand, Americans embraced the newfound sense of freedom and mobility embodied by the automobile; on the other, they grew increasingly anxious about and fearful of the enormous threat that cars--and car accidents--posed to public safety.