Books like Who's Your Founding Father? — picked by fans

I enjoy historical mystery, particularly in a pioneer/colonial setting, and was a big fan of Dances With Wolves. This book takes it one step further and weaves an intriguing tale of adventure that features several distinct characters whose destiny overlaps as they each make their way through dangerous curves in the pre-Civil War era.

I couldn't put this one down after becoming immersed in the storyline. I could visualize how the landscape changed over time, particularly for Native Americans. Still, this book rightfully emphasizes how harmony among those from different cultures can lead to good outcomes for all.

I remember taking a charter fishing boat out from Beaufort Inlet when they found the Queen Anne's Revenge back in 1996, the flagship of the legendary Blackbeard, who was killed off Ocracoke Island in 1718. I also remember visiting Springer's Point and paddling “Teach's Hole” on the island, not to mention searching for his alleged treasure both there and at the site of his former home in Bath, N.C.

I have also visited White Point Gardens in Charleston, where Stede Bonnett and crew were hanged, and kayaked along the many sounds and inlets where these buccaneers used to plunder and pillage. From the time that I was a child, I have been enchanted with pirate culture, and this book offers historical accuracy that you can't find by watching Johnny Depp in the theater.

I grew up in the 1960s and '70s, during a time when segregation ended, but racial strife continued, particularly in the South, so this book hits somewhat close to home.

Byron Woodfin sheds a meticulous inside light on how some people of privilege believed to be above the law and speaks to a time that all should remember so as not to repeat past mistakes. I found the storyline to be captivating, from the investigation of the attempted murder car bombing to the dramatic legal proceedings that later ensued.

This book is a real page-turner for those who enjoy true crime set in what one hopes to be a bygone era of racially motivated bigotry.

Although technically a biography, I view this book in the vein of mystery in many ways as it tells a compelling story of one of my most-admired musical/political heroes.

The story of Bob Marley, from his marginalized roots in Nine-Mile to world-renowned reggae artist and Rastafarian proponent of peace, is full of many trials and ordeals, including his own assassination attempt.

Timothy White's extensive research gave me a perspective of Bob that I would not otherwise have known about and took me deep into the life, beliefs, and challenges that Bob faced in his short life on our planet.

In a previous life, I taught a class in constitutional law to undergraduates at a local university, many of whom had never heard of the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence from May 20, 1775. 

That date appears on both the North Carolina state flag and state seal, and commemorates the first political break with England by any governmental body among the original colonies. I enjoyed how the author did his homework and documented sources and conflicting arguments with respect to how this document has been and should be viewed.

European settlers brought the ancient tradition of the forest commons, in which peasants could gather firewood, hunt small game, and cut forage for livestock regardless of what aristocrat owned the land. It was a matter of survival.

I’ve heard Appalachians be accused of anti-environmentalism, but through interviews, attending meetings and protests, and deep research, Newfont shows how people of the Blue Ridge see national forests as a commons, and have fought to preserve those forests against destructive practices such as clear-cutting and oil and gas development.

This book helped me understand that the national forests are a modern commons, providing enormous benefits like clean air and water to all of society. 

Dead and Gone was the first book I purchased with my own “earned” money. I was ten years old when I saw the book on display in a North Carolina bookshop. The book’s cover was orange and featured an illustration of the grim reaper in a top hat and coat. Needless to say, it grabbed my attention. Inside, Wellman’s words did not disappoint as he brought ten (pre-1914) North Carolina murders vividly to life. In fact, his words were so vivid, that I could not put the book down and finished reading it in a day. Wellman’s book sparked my interest in North Carolina’s not-so-happy past and I am sure it will spark your interest too.

Separate Pasts is McLaurin’s account of his 1950s boyhood in the tiny hamlet of Wade, North Carolina, years when the Jim Crow system still reigned. He describes the complex, interconnected lives of the town’s white and black families, and his own confusion as he tried to make sense of the contradictions he observed in his world. A painfully honest account of a white boy’s reckoning with the legacies of segregation and oppression, McLaurin reveals how his own relationships with black neighbors undermined the racist beliefs he was taught.

I taught this book years ago while an assistant professor at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. Written like a novel, although a serious work of history, it is not your usual book on Reconstruction. In compelling prose, Evans details the struggles of the Lowry Band of Lumbee Indians who clashed with Confederate officials in southeastern North Carolina during the Civil War. Henry Berry Lowry managed to escape after killing a rebel official. He took to the swamps, eluding capture with the help of local African Americans and Native Americans. It is a little-known story among people outside of that region and shows the complicated nature of putting the country back together again after a Civil War. I had never heard of this tribe until encountering the book and found the story unlike anything else in Reconstruction literature.

This book crawled under my skin and stayed there.

It starts off ordinary, familiar, even as the unease builds slowly. The fear isn’t loud or in-your-face; it’s quiet, creeping, and emotional. 

I found myself questioning what was real, what was imagined, and whether it even mattered once the darkness started closing in. What really got me was the sense of something just out of sight, something you can’t quite explain, but you know it’s coming.

Grief and fear twist together in a way that feels inescapable. You try to run, to reason, to fight, but in this story, none of that may be enough. It’s the kind of horror that doesn’t scream. It whispers, and somehow, that’s so much worse.