Intro -- Half Title -- Series Page -- Title Page -- Copyright -- Dedication -- Contents -- Prologue. The Best Job in Politics -- Part One -- 1. Where'd You Go to High School? -- 2. How Chemistry 101 and a Disco Changed My Life -- 3. Why Run? -- 4. Aren't You on City Council? What Are You Going to Do About That? -- 5. Fifth in a Five-Way Race -- 6. My Name Is Olivia Nutter and This Is My Dad -- Part Two -- 7. Budgets and Roses -- 8. The Last Call You Ever Want to Get -- 9. Getting to the Brink of Plan C -- 10. We're Not Running a Big Babysitting Service. We're Running a Big Government -- 11. Why Not a Tax on Cheesesteaks Instead of Soda? -- Part Three -- 12. There Was Never an Earthquake Here Before You Were Mayor -- 13. A Cool and a Hot City: Attracting the New and Retaining the Old -- 14. Tragedies, Frustrations, Accidents, and a Holy Visit -- Conclusion. United Cities of America -- A photo gallery appears between pages 68 and 69

Adds 21 new essays and drops some that appeared in the 1984 edition (first in 1978) to reflect recent scholarship and changes in orientation by historians. Adds entirely new clusters on sickness and health, early American medicine, therapeutics, the art of medicine, and public health and personal hygiene. Other discussions are updated to reflect such phenomena as the growing mortality from HIV, homicide, and suicide. No index. Annotation copyrighted by Book News, Inc., Portland, OR

Americans often assume that slave societies had little use for prisons and police because slaveholders only ever inflicted violence directly or through overseers. Mustering tens of thousands of previously overlooked arrest and prison records, John K. Bardes demonstrates the opposite: in parts of the South, enslaved and free people were jailed at astronomical rates. Slaveholders were deeply reliant on coercive state action. Authorities built massive slave prisons and devised specialized slave penal systems to maintain control and maximize profit. Indeed, in New Orleans—for most of the past half-century, the city with the highest incarceration rate in the United States—enslaved people were jailed at higher rates during the antebellum era than are Black residents today. Moreover, some slave prisons remained in use well after Emancipation: in these forgotten institutions lie the hidden origins of state violence under Jim Crow. With powerful and evocative prose, Bardes boldly reinterprets relations between slavery and prison development in American history. Racialized policing and mass incarceration are among the gravest moral crises of our age, but they are not new: slavery, the prison, and race are deeply interwoven into the history of American governance.