The river comes in and the river goes back out-this was the central fact that dictated the ebb and flow of life in early Petaluma. This river provided a natural link with San Francisco, and Petaluma became a ready-made market and eventually a prosperous trading hub. Captured here in over 200 vintage images is the story of this once fledgling creek-side village, and its evolution into one of northern California's thriving commercial centers. As waves of American settlers besieged the area following the Gold Rush, the early cabins and shanties gave way to warehouses and storefronts. Pictured here are the elements that made Petaluma prosperous: the banks, parks, bustling hotels, lively businesses, and stately Victorian homes. From the first steamer Gold plowing its way with the region's wares down to San Pablo Bay, to the nation's first pioneering commercial hatchery, Images of America: Petaluma captures the spirit and ingenuity of this riverside town and its residents.

Petalumas past is uniquely reflected in its historic architecture. The towns earliest commercial buildings tightly lined the waterfront of the Petaluma River, at one time the busiest transportation corridor in the North Bay. After the railroad arrived, an already thriving dairy and manufacturing city became the nations largest poultry and egg producer. A vital economy brought factories like the impressive Sunset Line & Twine plant, hatcheries, vast warehouses, and grain elevators that have become defining Petaluma landmarks. Its handsome downtown, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, is noted for its Italianate cast ironfront commercial buildings, and a variety of preWorld War II residential styles surround it in charming neighborhoods. A favorite of moviemakers, its classic main streets played a
central role in the film American Graffiti.

Native Americans who populated the various ranchos of Mexican California as laborers are people frequently lost to history. The "rancho period" was a critical time for California Indians, as many were drawn into labor pools for the flourishing ranchos following the 1834 dismantlement of the mission system, but they are practically absent from the documentary record and from popular histories. This study focuses on Rancho Petaluma north of San Francisco Bay, a large livestock, agricultural, and manufacturing operation on which several hundredÑperhaps as many as two thousandÑNative Americans worked as field hands, cowboys, artisans, cooks, and servants. One of the largest ranchos in the region, it was owned from 1834 to 1857 by Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, one of the most prominent political figures of Mexican California. While historians have studied Vallejo, few have considered the Native Americans he controlled, so we know little of what their lives were like or how they adjusted to the colonial labor regime. Because VallejoÕs Petaluma Adobe is now a state historic park and one of the most well-protected rancho sites in California, this site offers unparalleled opportunities to investigate nineteenth-century rancho life via archaeology. Using the Vallejo rancho as a case study, Stephen Silliman examines this California rancho with a particular eye toward Native American participation. Through the archaeological recordÑtools and implements, containers, beads, bone and shell artifacts, food remainsÑhe reconstructs the daily practices of Native peoples at Rancho Petaluma and the labor relations that structured indigenous participation in and experience of rancho life. This research enables him to expose the multi-ethnic nature of colonialism, counterbalancing popular misconceptions of Native Americans as either non-participants in the ranchos or passive workers with little to contribute to history. Lost Laborers in Colonial California draws on archaeological data, material studies, and archival research, and meshes them with theoretical issues of labor, gender, and social practice to examine not only how colonial worlds controlled indigenous peoples and practices but also how Native Americans lived through and often resisted those impositions. The book fills a gap in the regional archaeological and historical literature as it makes a unique contribution to colonial and contact-period studies in the Spanish/Mexican borderlands and beyond.

This book is a portrait of the Petaluma Jewish community from the early years of the century to the present day. Kenneth L. Kann interviewed more than two hundred residents, representing three generations of Jewish Americans. The picture that emerges from their testimony is of a wonderfully animated and fractious community. Its history blends many of the familiar themes of American Jewish life into a richly individual tapestry. In the first few decades of this century, many Jewish immigrants from Russia and Eastern Europe wound up in Petaluma. This first generation of chicken farmers consisted largely of educated, often professional men and women; many were drawn to chicken farming as much by Marxist or Zionist beliefs in the dignity of labor as by economic necessity. They helped establish the particular character of a community, with its combination of arduous work and cultural aspiration.

Miles Murphy is not happy to be moving to Yawnee Valley, a sleepy town that’s famous for one thing and one thing only: cows. In his old school, everyone knew him as the town’s best prankster, but Miles quickly discovers that Yawnee Valley already has a prankster, and a great one. If Miles is going to take the title from this mystery kid, he is going to have to raise his game. It’s prankster against prankster in an epic war of trickery, until the two finally decide to join forces and pull off the biggest prank ever seen: a prank so huge that it would make the members of the International Order of Disorder proud. In The Terrible Two, bestselling authors and friends Mac Barnett and Jory John have created a series that has its roots in classic middle-grade literature yet feels fresh and new at the same time. Advance Praise for The Terrible Two “A double helping of fun and mischief!” —Jeff kinney, author of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid Series “The pranks, the brotherhood, the art, the heart! What’s not to love about the Terrible Two?” —Sara Pennypacker, author of the Clementine series “You don’t have to be a cow, like cows, or even know a cow to love the Terrible Two.” —Dave Eggers “This book is terrible! Terribly funny, terribly full of pranks, and terribly wonderful.” —Jon Scieszka, author of The Stinky Cheese Man and the Frank Einstein series “The Terrible Two are my kind of kids. And what’s more, they’re kids’ kind of kids.” —Annie Barrows, author of the Ivy & Bean series “Hilarious.” —Dav Pilkey, author of the Captain Underpants series