Established in 1873, the San Carlos Indian Agency provided a reservation for the areas Western Apache bands. A U.S. Army post was created nearby to exert military control. Together the original agency and army post are known today as Old San Carlos. From 1874 to 1877, the U.S. governments peace policy directed additional Apache groups and other regional natives to San Carlos. Ensuing turmoil, including renewal of traditional intergroup rivalries and rebellion against civilian and military control, initiated the familiar Apache Wars. These campaigns were fought through the 1870s and 1880s, as Apache rebels intermittently broke from the reserve and returned to former haunts or sought refuge in northern Mexico. By all accountsfrom white civilians, military personnel, and native people alikethe San Carlos Agency and army post was an inhospitable locale, compounded by recurring instability and conflict.

Located in the heart of the San Francisco peninsula, San Carlos is known as the aCity of Good Living.a Originally inhabited by the Costanos Indians, the town was part of the Rancho de las Pulgas land grant during the Spanish mission days. Incorporated in 1925, San Carlos is considered the birthplace of todayas Silicon Valley, having been home to such firms as Varian, Ampex, and Dalmo-Victor. The town has also boasted one of the militaryas largest dog-training facilities, the Morse Seed Company, and a number of great theaters. Community values are strong here, with popular events such as the Home Town Days Parade and Festival, Art and Wine Faire, Hot Harvest Nights, and the biannual Chickenas Ball. Over the years, the city has worked to preserve its history and many of its early structures while also providing citizens with modern civic buildings and other amenities.

On the corner of Central Avenue and Monroe Street, in the center of downtown Phoenix, is the historic Hotel San Carlos. Local Native Americans once worshipped a god of learning in this same area, and so early white settlers chose the site for the city's first school, the Little Adobe School, in 1873. After the Little Adobe School, the location served as a ballpark, a brick schoolhouse, the Central School, and finally the Hotel San Carlos, which opened in March 1928. The first hotel in Phoenix to boast steam heat, elevators, and air-conditioning, Hotel San Carlos has a remarkable story and has even seen its share of movie stars, including Mae West, Gene Autry, and Marilyn Monroe. Clark Gable always stayed in the same corner room on the fourth floor so he could people-watch. Even the friendly ghost of Leone Jensen, who appears regularly at the foot of the guest beds, has added to the unique legacy and continuing popularity of Hotel San Carlos.

Surviving Conquest is a history of the Yavapai Indians, who have lived for centuries in central Arizona. Although primarily concerned with survival in a desert environment, early Yavapais were also involved in a complex network of alliances, rivalries, and trade. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries European missionaries and colonizers moved into the region, bringing diseases, livestock, and a desire for Indian labor. Beginning in 1863, U.S. settlers and soldiers invaded Yavapai lands, established farms, towns, and forts, and initiated murderous campaigns against Yavapai families. Historian Timothy Braatz shows how Yavapais responded in a variety of ways to the violations that disrupted their hunting and gathering economies and threatened their survival. In the 1860s, some stole from American settlements and some turned to wage work. Yavapais also asked U.S. officials to establish reservations where they could live, safe from attack, in their homelands. Despite the Yavapais? successful efforts to become sedentary farmers, in 1875 U.S. officials relocated them across Arizona to the San Carlos Apache Reservation. For the next twenty-five years, they remained in exile but were determined to return home. They joined the commercial Arizona economy, repeatedly requested permission to leave San Carlos, and, repeatedly denied, left anyway, a few families at a time. By 1901 nearly all had returned to Yavapai lands, and through persistence and savvy lobbying eventually received three federally recognized reservations. Drawing on in-depth archival research and accounts recorded in the early twentieth century by a Yavapai named Mike Burns, Braatz tells the story of the Yavapais and their changing world.

RECIPIENT OF THE PURA BELPRÉ ILLUSTRATOR HONOR Author-illustrator Carlos Aponte takes readers on a journey to the heart of Puerto Rico in this enchanting picture book set in Old San Juan. "A lively and honest story about filling voids and exploring what defines a family--as well as a love letter to a childhood home."--Horn Book Carlitos lives in a happy home with his mother, his abuela, and Coco the cat. Life in his hometown is cozy as can be, but the call of the capital city pulls Carlitos across the bay in search of his father. Jolly piragüeros, mischievous cats, and costumed musicians color this tale of love, family, and the true meaning of home.

A British Naval commander’s eyewitness account of the 1982 war in the South Atlantic. Since he was in charge of the amphibious operations in the Falklands War, it goes without saying that there is no one better qualified to tell the story of that aspect of the campaign than Commodore Michael Clapp. Here he describes, with considerable candor, some of the problems met in a Navy racing to war and finding it necessary to recreate a largely abandoned operational technique in a somewhat ad hoc fashion. During the time it took to “go south,” some sense of order was imposed and a not very well defined command structure evolved, this was not done without generating a certain amount of friction. He tells of why San Carlos Water was chosen for the assault and the subsequent inshore operations. Michael Clapp and his small staff made their stand and can claim a major role in the defeat of the Argentine Air and Land Forces.

NATIONAL BESTSELLER • A powerful work of visual nonfiction about three generations of an Apache family struggling to protect sacred land from a multinational mining corporation, by MacArthur “Genius” and National Book Award finalist Lauren Redniss, the acclaimed author of Thunder & Lightning “Brilliant . . . virtuosic . . . a master storyteller of a new order.”—Eliza Griswold, The New York Times Book Review (Editors’ Choice) NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY KIRKUS REVIEWS Oak Flat is a serene high-elevation mesa that sits above the southeastern Arizona desert, fifteen miles to the west of the San Carlos Apache Indian Reservation. For the San Carlos tribe, Oak Flat is a holy place, an ancient burial ground and religious site where Apache girls celebrate the coming-of-age ritual known as the Sunrise Ceremony. In 1995, a massive untapped copper reserve was discovered nearby. A decade later, a law was passed transferring the area to a private company, whose planned copper mine will wipe Oak Flat off the map—sending its natural springs, petroglyph-covered rocks, and old-growth trees tumbling into a void. Redniss’s deep reporting and haunting artwork anchor this mesmerizing human narrative. Oak Flat tells the story of a race-against-time struggle for a swath of American land, which pits one of the poorest communities in the United States against the federal government and two of the world’s largest mining conglomerates. The book follows the fortunes of two families with profound connections to the contested site: the Nosies, an Apache family whose teenage daughter is an activist and leader in the Oak Flat fight, and the Gorhams, a mining family whose patriarch was a sheriff in the lawless early days of Arizona statehood. The still-unresolved Oak Flat conflict is ripped from today’s headlines, but its story resonates with foundational American themes: the saga of westward expansion, the resistance and resilience of Native peoples, and the efforts of profiteers to control the land and unearth treasure beneath it while the lives of individuals hang in the balance.

San Carlos was a bedroom community located fifteen miles east of the Pacific Ocean. After WWII and the Korean War, veterans and their families lined up to buy one of the tract homes that made up the new suburbia. The baby boom had begun in San Diego. Directly west of San Carlos, Ocean Beach, a laid-back enclave consisting of seven square miles, was the bohemian jewel of the Point Loma Peninsula. The common thread that tied these two communities together in the seventies was not just beautiful weather. Two outlaw motorcycle clubs immersed in a territorial war, the rampant abuse of illegal drugs, sociopathic serial killers, and suicide stained, for those of us who lived there and then, what should have been an idyllic existence. There Goes the Neighborhood is a tale of two communities forever changed by the dark cloud that blotted the light of day from those who called either community home.