Winner of a National Council on Public History Book Award On April 30, 1871, an unlikely group of Anglo-Americans, Mexican Americans, and Tohono O’odham Indians massacred more than a hundred Apache men, women, and children who had surrendered to the U.S. Army at Camp Grant, near Tucson, Arizona. Thirty or more Apache children were stolen and either kept in Tucson homes or sold into slavery in Mexico. Planned and perpetrated by some of the most prominent men in Arizona’s territorial era, this organized slaughter has become a kind of “phantom history” lurking beneath the Southwest’s official history, strangely present and absent at the same time. Seeking to uncover the mislaid past, this powerful book begins by listening to those voices in the historical record that have long been silenced and disregarded. Massacre at Camp Grant fashions a multivocal narrative, interweaving the documentary record, Apache narratives, historical texts, and ethnographic research to provide new insights into the atrocity. Thus drawing from a range of sources, it demonstrates the ways in which painful histories continue to live on in the collective memories of the communities in which they occurred. Chip Colwell-Chanthaphonh begins with the premise that every account of the past is suffused with cultural, historical, and political characteristics. By paying attention to all of these aspects of a contested event, he provides a nuanced interpretation of the cultural forces behind the massacre, illuminates how history becomes an instrument of politics, and contemplates why we must study events we might prefer to forget.

A masterful reconstruction of one of the worst Indian massacres in American history In April 1871, a group of Americans, Mexicans, and Tohono O?odham Indians surrounded an Apache village at dawn and murdered nearly 150 men, women, and children in their sleep. In the past century the attack, which came to be known as the Camp Grant Massacre, has largely faded from memory. Now, drawing on oral histories, contemporary newspaper reports, and the participants? own accounts, prize-winning author Karl Jacoby brings this perplexing incident and tumultuous era to life to paint a sweeping panorama of the American Southwest?a world far more complex, diverse, and morally ambiguous than the traditional portrayals of the Old West.

FICTIONAL VERSION OF THE MASSACRE OF CHIEF ESKIMENZIN AND HIS PEOPLE BY THE CITIZENS OF TUCSON IN 1871.

This book was written and inspired by my family who urged me to write about what happened at the warden's house in Fort Grant Arizona when I was assigned there at the prison complex. The book is a straightforward account of a paranormal event that caused me to think deeply about the events of the past around that area during the notorious Apache Wars of the 1880s. This book is a self-account of what I felt was a strong influence on me while there and how it impacted my sense of fairness and opinion of justice and injustices in our world. The fact is that injustices take place every day everywhere in our world. It does not just exist in the United States but everywhere on the globe. If you are a social warrior wanting to fight for injustices in the world and have a special cause or motivated to a special deed, read the book and let it inspire you as it did me. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated and nothing fake. It's a real emotional roller coaster for some and a trigger to become involved in others. You will find it to be a short book with just enough pictures to help visualize my presentation. When you are finished reading the book, it is hoped you are inspired to fight for something you believe in and are committed to make a better change or direction on the topic matter.

Western Apaches have long regarded the corner of Arizona encompassing Aravaipa Canyon as their sacred homeland. This book examines the evolving relationship between this people and this place, illustrating the enduring power of Aravaipa to shape and sustain contemporary Apache society. Big Sycamore Stands Alone: The Western Apaches, Aravaipa, and the Struggle for Place articulates Aravaipa’s cultural legacy as seen through the eyes of some of its descendants, bringing Apache voices, knowledge, and perspectives to the fore. Focusing on the Camp Grant Massacre as its narrative centerpiece, Ian Record employs a unique approach that reflects how the Apaches conceptualize their history and identity, interweaving four distinct narrative threads: contemporary oral histories of individuals from the San Carlos reservation, historic documentation of Apache relationships to Aravaipa following the reservation’s establishment, descriptions of pre-reservation subsistence practices, and a history of early Apache struggles to maintain their connection with Aravaipa in the face of hostility from outsiders. In addition, Record has mined the research notes of Grenville Goodwin to document important elements of Apache economic, political, and social organization in pre-reservation times. A landmark ethnohistory, Big Sycamore Stands Alone documents a story that goes far beyond Cochise, Geronimo, and the Chiricahuas. Record’s work is a trailblazing synthesis of historical and anthropological materials that lends new insight into the relationship between people and place.

A brilliant and riveting history of the famous and infamous massacres that marked the settling of the American West in the nineteenth century. In Oh What a Slaughter, Larry McMurtry has written a unique, brilliant, and searing history of the bloody massacres that marked—and marred—the settling of the American West in the nineteenth century, and which still provoke immense controversy today. Here are the true stories of the West's most terrible massacres—Sacramento River, Mountain Meadows, Sand Creek, Marias River, Camp Grant, and Wounded Knee, among others. These massacres involved Americans killing Indians, but also Indians killing Americans, and, in the case of the hugely controversial Mountain Meadows Massacre in 1857, Mormons slaughtering a party of American settlers, including women and children. McMurtry's evocative descriptions of these events recall their full horror, and the deep, constant apprehension and dread endured by both pioneers and Indians. By modern standards the death tolls were often small—Custer's famous defeat at Little Big Horn in 1876 was the only encounter to involve more than two hundred dead—yet in the thinly populated West of that time, the violent extinction of a hundred people had a colossal impact on all sides. Though the perpetrators often went unpunished, many guilty and traumatized men felt compelled to tell and retell the horrors they had committed. From letters and diaries, McMurtry has created a moving and swiftly paced narrative, as memorable in its way as such classics as Evan S. Connell's Son of the Morning Star and Dee Brown's Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee. In Larry McMurtry's own words: "I have visited all but one of these famous massacre sites—the Sacramento River massacre of 1846 is so forgotten that its site near the northern California village of Vina can only be approximated. It is no surprise to report that none of the sites are exactly pleasant places to be, though the Camp Grant site north of Tucson does have a pretty community college nearby. In general, the taint that followed the terror still lingers and is still powerful enough to affect locals who happen to live nearby. None of the massacres were effectively covered up, though the Sacramento River massacre was overlooked for a very long time. "But the lesson, if it is a lesson, is that blood—in time, and, often, not that much time—will out. In case after case the dead have managed to assert a surprising potency. "The deep, constant apprehension, which neither the pioneers nor the Indians escaped, has, it seems to me, been too seldom factored in by historians of the settlement era, though certainly it saturates the diary-literature of the pioneers, particularly the diary-literature produced by frontier women, who were, of course, the likeliest candidates for rapine and kidnap."

In the Smaller Scope of Conscience is a thoughtful and detailed study of the ins and outs of the four-year process behind the creation of NMAIA and NAGPRA . It is a singular contribution to the history of these issues, with the potential to help mediate the ongoing debate by encouraging all sides to retrace the steps of the legislators responsible for the acts.