ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Writing may be a solitary pursuit, but research and publishing are not. Many people and institutions contributed money, expertise, and moral support during the eight years it took to make this book.

First, let me thank the folks at the receiving end of my e-mails in the University of Arizona Library Interlibrary Loan Office. They obtained hundreds of periodicals, books, and dissertations for me. I am also grateful to other university units that awarded me grants for archival research. Thanks to UA’s Social and Behavioral Sciences Research Institute for grants that funded trips to Bancroft Library at the University of California at Berkeley, Tamiment Labor Archives at New York University, Pittsburg (Kansas) State University, the University of Massachusetts Amherst, and the University of Connecticut. Thanks also to the University of Arizona Foundation for funding research at the University of Washington. I am also grateful to an excellent academic organization, the American Journalism Historians Association, for a 2007 faculty research grant that funded additional research at Tamiment.

I never would have received that funding without generous letters of support and sabbatical leaves from Dave Cuillier, director of the UA School of Journalism, and his predecessor, professor emerita Jacqueline Sharkey. Thanks for hiring me, Jacqueline. Two other women have played key roles in my post-journalism scholastic career: JoAnne Albers, retired director of the School of Journalism & Broadcasting at Western Kentucky University, and the late renowned First Amendment scholar Margaret A. Blanchard. You inspired me as educators and independent women.

The manuscript benefited enormously from careful readings by authors John Downing and Elliott Shore, who both have made important contributions to the literature on the radical press. Other radical press scholars whose work provided a foundation for my own include historians Jon Bekken, Joseph R. Conlin, Philip Foner, James Green, Melvin Dubofsky, and Allen Ruff. The Kent State University Press staff further improved the book every step of the way, from acquisitions editor Joyce Harrison’s initial interest to managing editor Mary D. Young and her staff’s shaping of the final product. Freelance copy editor Erin Holman deserves a medal for the myriad embarrassments she spared me. Any errors, omissions, or misinterpretations are, of course, my own.

My gratitude extends to the largely unsung librarians at the various archives I visited. A few who stand out are Randy Roberts and Janette Mauk in Special Collections at Pittsburg State University’s Leonard H. Axe Library, and Lucinda Ealy at the University of Massachusetts’s W. E. B. Du Bois Library. A tip of the hat goes to Georgann Roche for research assistance at the University of Connecticut, to Jessalee Lumsden Landfried for the same at Duke University, and to Samuel Lumsden Landfried for technical support regarding the illustrations. Jess and Sam remain my toughest critics but favorite son and daughter. You make me proud.

Socialists called each other “comrade,” and I’ve had a number whom I appreciate for their interest in this book or the diversions they provided from it. Atop that list perches my sister, Laurie Kamuda, who is as cheerful helping me get used to a new knee as she is kayaking in search of loons on Adirondack Mountain lakes. Thanks for the Vermont hospitality from the entire Kamuda clan—Jeff, Brian, and Joe. At the risk of forgetting someone, thanks also to far-flung friends: Kentucky comrades Kathryn Abbott and Jane Olmsted; ADK soul mate Karen Delaney; Manchester (Conn.) Journal Inquirer veteran Louise Beecher; North Carolina bibliophile Claire Jentsch; photojournalism historian Dolores Flamiano; my buddies from Enfield High School’s Class of 1971; ex-in-laws extraordinaire Mark and Marjorie Landfried; Scrabble nemesis Charlotte Keller; and Arizona cowgirl Maggy Zanger, just one among many UA School of Journalism colleagues who inspire me on the job and make me laugh off it.

Finally, everyone should be lucky enough to have parents cheering for her for as long as mine did. My mother, Margaret Lumsden, is not quite sure what this book is about, but that never dampened her enthusiasm. My father, Lennox Lumsden, died not long before the book appeared. Although talk of revolution revolted him, I miss the pride with which he would have greeted Black, White, and Red All Over, just because his rebellious daughter wrote it.