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Founded in 1778 as a portage point on the lower Ohio River, Louisville was closely tied to river commerce for a century. In the 1880s, the Southern Exposition and the growth of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad did much to establish the city as an important commercial link between the North and South. By 1900, Louisville was the 18th largest city in America, with a population of just over 200,000. The city had a vibrant downtown with elegant office buildings and hotels and one of the finest park systems in the country, designed by the Olmsted brothers in the 1890s. In Louisville, more than 200 postcards present a visual record of the institutions, prosperity, and charm of the river city.
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Until the railroads extended their steel ribbons westward, people and cargo traveling to Americas frontier went by flatboat, canoe, or paddle-wheeled steamer. The falls of the Ohio River at Louisville presented a considerable obstacle to this floating traffic, and vessels traveling on this major waterway were forced to portage their cargo around the turbulent waters. In 1812, three enterprising brothers from New York, Abner, Joel, and Nathaniel Scribner, bought land at the western end of the rapids and named their new settlement New Albany in honor of the capital of their native state. Their village became the head of downriver navigation on the Ohio and evolved from a backwoods settlement into Indianas largest city, a lively river town where steamboats, textiles, sheet music, automobiles, and pastries have all been manufactured. Natural disasters have periodically changed the face of the city, but New Albany has always recovered due to the determination of its citizens. This collection of vintage images portrays the triumphs and tragedies of these residents.
Join local historian Gregg Seidl on this deliciously wicked romp with New Albanys most heinousthe treacherous, greedy, drunken, insane and plain unfortunate. Catch a whiff of rum and candor when Jacob Ritter sits to write one morning in 1861. His opening line: I have killed my wife because she is a witch. When the trains roar through this New Albany, they are quite likely meeting flesh. The men in the saloons are armed and irritated. And the murderous can be most industrious, like the man who was sentenced to death, sold his body to New Albanys first physician, collected the cash, reneged on the contract and then tried to sell his corpse again. Millions have roamed these broad avenues during New Albanys nearly two hundred years. Most have been honest sorts. Others, well