You never know what treasures the casual visitor might discover in a new place - perhaps even a lost world. In the Deadwood of 1959, the Black Hills Gold Rush of 1876 held a fascinating history, and Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickok were legendary. But noticing a grocery storefront lettered with the clearly Jewish name of Goldberg was startling. A little inquiry disclosed that grocer Jacob Goldberg was long gone, but this clue led to a compelling journey into a forgotten corner of the Jewish American past. In fact, there had once been a significant Jewish population, but there was no single source where one could learn about them. Who were these Jews? Where did they come from and how did they get here? How did they make a living, and what did they contribute? What were their challenges? How and where did they practice their religion? Where did they all go, and what did they leave behind? Gleaning from archives, combing through indexes, straining to read microfilmed historical newspapers, collecting articles and photographs, interviewing descendants and anyone with a memory to share - it all became a passion. Research yielded endless surprises as people and places came to life. Beyond Deadwood and sister city Lead, the hills and prairies and Badlands held stories of these people who traveled by shank's mare and steamship and stagecoach, many with only dreams in their pockets. These were not the gunslingers. They were stalwart, adventurous, pioneering people, willing to risk everything to take part in the opening of a new frontier, prepared to turn the dust beneath their boots into a grand opportunity. They brought their families and their customs, and they helped turn this remote Wild West outpost into a stable civilization. In this far-off corner of the Diaspora, there was a forgotten Jewish world. Their legacy was too valuable to allow to evaporate. This was a reminder that there are valuable stories everywhere worth keeping.

The very name Deadwood conjures up vivid Wild West images: saloons with swinging doors, brazen dance-hall girls, buckskin-clad Calamity Jane roaming the streets with her erstwhile paramour, Wild Bill Hickok. The setting is the lawless Dakota Territory of 1876 at the start of the Black Hills gold rush, a stampede for the golden pay dirt. One would hardly expect to find a Jewish pioneer grocer named Jacob Goldberg in this scene, yet Deadwood's story is incomplete without Goldberg. And Goldberg's story is incomplete without either Calamity Jane or Wild Bill. Not just Goldberg, but Finkelstein (also known as Franklin), Stern (also known as Star), Jacobs, Schwarzwald, Colman, Hattenbach, and many other Jews joined the throngs. The Jews provided much more than overalls, chamberpots, and the chambers in which to put them. They also became the mayors, legislators, and civic leaders who helped bring sense and stability to this unruly expanse.

The very name Deadwood conjures up vivid Wild West images: saloons with swinging doors, brazen dance-hall girls, buckskin-clad Calamity Jane roaming the streets with her erstwhile paramour, Wild Bill Hickok. The setting is the lawless Dakota Territory of 1876 at the start of the Black Hills gold rush, a stampede for the golden pay dirt. One would hardly expect to find a Jewish pioneer grocer named Jacob Goldberg in this scene, yet Deadwood's story is incomplete without Goldberg. And Goldberg's story is incomplete without either Calamity Jane or Wild Bill. Not just Goldberg, but Finkelstein (also known as Franklin), Stern (also known as Star), Jacobs, Schwarzwald, Colman, Hattenbach, and many other Jews joined the throngs. The Jews provided much more than overalls, chamberpots, and the chambers in which to put them. They also became the mayors, legislators, and civic leaders who helped bring sense and stability to this unruly expanse.

Contributions of the Jewish men and women who helped shape the American frontier.

This book contains stories about "selected Jewish pioneers in the American Southwest and the historical conditions under which they lived after the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848.".

DEADWOOD, DAKOTA TERRITORIES, 1876: Legendary gunman Wild Bill Hickcock and his friend Charlie Utter have come to the Black Hills town of Deadwood fresh from Cheyenne, fleeing an ungrateful populace. Bill, aging and sick but still able to best any man in a fair gunfight, just wants to be left alone to drink and play cards. But in this town of played-out miners, bounty hunters, upstairs girls, Chinese immigrants, and various other entrepeneurs and miscreants, he finds himself pursued by a vicious sheriff, a perverse whore man bent on revenge, and a besotted Calamity Jane. Fueled by liquor, sex, and violence, this is the real wild west, unlike anything portrayed in the dime novels that first told its story.

A Kirkus Reviews Best Book of 2023 "Sharply insightful . . . A monumental piece of work."—The Boston Globe An award-winning author investigates the entangled history of her Jewish ancestors' land in South Dakota and the Lakota, who were forced off that land by the United States government Growing up, Rebecca Clarren only knew the major plot points of her tenacious immigrant family’s origins. Her great-great-grandparents, the Sinykins, and their six children fled antisemitism in Russia and arrived in the United States at the turn of the 20th century, ultimately settling on a 160-acre homestead in South Dakota. Over the next few decades, despite tough years on a merciless prairie and multiple setbacks, the Sinykins became an American immigrant success story. What none of Clarren’s ancestors ever mentioned was that their land, the foundation for much of their wealth, had been cruelly taken from the Lakota by the United States government. By the time the Sinykins moved to South Dakota, America had broken hundreds of treaties with hundreds of Indigenous nations across the continent, and the land that had once been reserved for the seven bands of the Lakota had been diminished, splintered, and handed for free, or practically free, to white settlers. In The Cost of Free Land, Clarren melds investigative reporting with personal family history to reveal the intertwined stories of her family and the Lakota, and the devastating cycle of loss of Indigenous land, culture, and resources that continues today. With deep empathy and clarity of purpose, Clarren grapples with the personal and national consequences of this legacy of violence and dispossession. What does it mean to survive oppression only to perpetuate and benefit from the oppression of others? By shining a light on the people and families tangled up in this country’s difficult history, The Cost of Free Land invites readers to consider their own culpability and what, now, can be done.