The Illustrated Encyclopedia of the Old West

Peter Newark's encyclopedia of the Old West covers people, places, and things west of the Mississippi River, and during the 19'th century. As an encyclopedia, it covers subjects alphabetically, from "Abilene, Kansas" to "Zuni Indians." In addition, there is a brief introduction, a condensed table of major events, a table showing when the various states were admitted into the Union, a pretty nice map, and an alphabetical list of entries at the back of the book. The book tends to cover each topic in a somewhat truncated manner. And, of course, it's not necessarily intended to be read cover to cover. It's really the sort of book that should be left out on the coffee table, and read at odd times during the day, by kids, adults, and the occasional visitor who happens to notice it. I find our copy wandering around the house, from room to room, as first one person, and then another, picks it up, reads a bit, and lays it down for the next curious interloper.The book is nicely illustrated with black-and-white drawings and vintage photographs. The photographs, in particular, help capture the flavor and essence of the Old West, from the image of hunters posing with their kill of a grizzly bear to a close up of one of the saddles used by the riders of the pony express. Looking through some of these old photographs I could almost smell the dusty leather and the horse sweat that left it stained. Some of the images are touching; others are gruesome. Together, they paint a picture of rugged individualism garnished with frequent personal tragedy. One photograph, in particular, touches me deeply. It is that of the frozen corpse of Chief Big Foot, killed during the massacre at Wounded Knee. For me, this book resurrects memories of working my grandfather's ranch in northeast Utah, set against the foothills of the high Uinta Mountains, not far from Fort Bridger. Although my grandfather (James Kent Olson) was born just after the end of the 19'th century, he instilled in me a love for the vanished lifestyle that died with the last of the cowboys. Knowing my love for the Old West, my mother in law bought me this book for Christmas. It's been one of the nicest presents I've had in a long time.Having grown up with just a taste of the Old West, I immediately looked up Fort Bridger, which was just 30 miles from Grandfather's ranch. As a kid I would sometimes go there with my aunts and cousins, and wonder what it must have been like to have live in the Wild West. We had our horses, and we knew ranch work. Still, it was a sanitized version, and I complained bitterly at having missed the opportunity to grow up in the "real" Old West. My constant lamentations frequently left my flabbergasted mother to proclaim that I'd been born 100 years to late.Next, I read the section on Butch Cassidy. As a young boy I would coax my grandmother, Sara, to tell me about Butch Cassidy and his gang. Butch supposedly had a hideout near the Green River gorge, not far from t