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NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER - NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FINALIST
A New York Times Notable Book
Named a best book of the year by Amazon, Wall Street Journal, The Boston Globe, San Francisco Chronicle, GQ, Time, Newsday, Entertainment Weekly, Time Magazine, NPR, Vogue, Smithsonian, Cosmopolitan, Seattle Times, Bloomberg, Lit Hub, and Slate
From the #1 New York Times best-selling author of The Lost City of Z, a twisting, haunting true-life murder mystery about one of the most monstrous crimes in American history
In the 1920s, the richest people per capita in the world were members of the Osage Nation in Oklahoma. After oil was discovered beneath their land, the Osage rode in chauffeured automobiles, built mansions, and sent their children to study in Europe.
Then, one by one, the Osage began to be killed off. The family of an Osage woman, Mollie Burkhart, became a prime target. One of her relatives was shot. Another was poisoned. And it was just the beginning, as more and more Osage were dying under mysterious circumstances, and many of those who dared to investigate the killings were themselves murdered.
As the death toll rose, the newly created FBI took up the case, and the young director, J. Edgar Hoover, turned to a former Texas Ranger named Tom White to try to unravel the mystery. White put together an undercover team, including a Native American agent who infiltrated the region, and together with the Osage began to expose one of the most chilling conspiracies in American history.
|Publisher:||Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group|
|Product dimensions:||5.20(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.70(d)|
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Read an Excerpt
In April, millions of tiny flowers spread over the blackjack hills and vast prairies in the Osage territory of Oklahoma. There are Johnny-jump-ups and spring beauties and little bluets. The Osage writer John Joseph Mathews observed that the galaxy of petals makes it look as if the “gods had left confetti.” In May, when coyotes howl beneath an unnervingly large moon, taller plants, such as spiderworts and black-eyed Susans, begin to creep over the tinier blooms, stealing their light and water. The necks of the smaller flowers break and their petals flutter away, and before long they are buried underground. This is why the Osage Indians refer to May as the time of the flower-killing moon.
On May 24, 1921, Mollie Burkhart, a resident of the Osage settlement town of Gray Horse, Oklahoma, began to fear that something had happened to one of her three sisters, Anna Brown. Thirty-four, and less than a year older than Mollie, Anna had disappeared three days earlier. She had often gone on “sprees,” as her family disparagingly called them: dancing and drinking with friends until dawn. But this time one night had passed, and then another, and Anna had not shown up on Mollie’s front stoop as she usually did, with her long black hair slightly frayed and her dark eyes shining like glass. When Anna came inside, she liked to slip off her shoes, and Mollie missed the comforting sound of her moving, unhurried, through the house. Instead, there was a silence as still as the plains.
Mollie had already lost her sister Minnie nearly three years earlier. Her death had come with shocking speed, and though doctors had attributed it to a “peculiar wasting illness,” Mollie harbored doubts: Minnie had been only twenty-seven and had always been in perfect health.
Like their parents, Mollie and her sisters had their names inscribed on the Osage Roll, which meant that they were among the registered members of the tribe. It also meant that they possessed a fortune. In the early 1870s, the Osage had been driven from their lands in Kansas onto a rocky, presumably worthless reservation in northeastern Oklahoma, only to discover, decades later, that this land was sitting above some of the largest oil deposits in the United States. To obtain that oil, prospectors had to pay the Osage for leases and royalties. In the early twentieth century, each person on the tribal roll began receiving a quarterly check. The amount was initially for only a few dollars, but over time, as more oil was tapped, the dividends grew into the hundreds, then the thousands. And virtually every year the payments increased, like the prairie creeks that joined to form the wide, muddy Cimarron, until the tribe members had collectively accumulated millions and millions of dollars. (In 1923 alone, the tribe took in more than $30 million, the equivalent today of more than $400 million.) The Osage were considered the wealthiest people per capita in the world. “Lo and behold!” the New York weekly Outlook exclaimed. “The Indian, instead of starving to death . . . enjoys a steady income that turns bankers green with envy.”
The public had become transfixed by the tribe’s prosperity, which belied the images of American Indians that could be traced back to the brutal first contact with whites—the original sin from which the country was born. Reporters tantalized their readers with stories about the “plutocratic Osage” and the “red millionaires,” with their brick-and-terra-cotta mansions and chandeliers, with their diamond rings and fur coats and chauffeured cars. One writer marveled at Osage girls who attended the best boarding schools and wore sumptuous French clothing, as if “une très jolie demoiselle of the Paris boulevards had inadvertently strayed into this little reservation town.”
At the same time, reporters seized upon any signs of the traditional Osage way of life, which seemed to stir in the public’s mind visions of “wild” Indians. One article noted a “circle of expensive automobiles surrounding an open campfire, where the bronzed and brightly blanketed owners are cooking meat in the primitive style.” Another documented a party of Osage arriving at a ceremony for their dances in a private airplane—a scene that “outrivals the ability of the fictionist to portray.” Summing up the public’s attitude toward the Osage, the Washington Star said, “That lament, ‘Lo the poor Indian,’ might appropriately be revised to, ‘Ho, the rich redskin.’ ”
Gray Horse was one of the reservation’s older settlements. These outposts—including Fairfax, a larger, neighboring town of nearly fifteen hundred people, and Pawhuska, the Osage capital, with a population of more than six thousand—seemed like fevered visions. The streets clamored with cowboys, fortune seekers, bootleggers, soothsayers, medicine men, outlaws, U.S. marshals, New York financiers, and oil magnates. Automobiles sped along paved horse trails, the smell of fuel overwhelming the scent of the prairies. Juries of crows peered down from telephone wires. There were restaurants, advertised as cafés, and opera houses and polo grounds.
Although Mollie didn’t spend as lavishly as some of her neighbors did, she had built a beautiful, rambling wooden house in Gray Horse near her family’s old lodge of lashed poles, woven mats, and bark. She owned several cars and had a staff of servants—the Indians’ pot-lickers, as many settlers derided these migrant workers. The servants were often black or Mexican, and in the early 1920s a visitor to the reservation expressed contempt at the sight of “even whites” performing “all the menial tasks about the house to which no Osage will stoop.”
Mollie was one of the last people to see Anna before she vanished. That day, May 21, Mollie had risen close to dawn, a habit ingrained from when her father used to pray every morning to the sun. She was accustomed to the chorus of meadowlarks and sandpipers and prairie chickens, now overlaid with the pock-pocking of drills pounding the earth. Unlike many of her friends, who shunned Osage clothing, Mollie wrapped an Indian blanket around her shoulders. She also didn’t style her hair in a flapper bob, and instead let her long, black hair flow over her back, revealing her striking face, with its high cheekbones and big brown eyes.
Her husband, Ernest Burkhart, rose with her. A twenty-eight-year-old white man, he had the stock handsomeness of an extra in a Western picture show: short brown hair, slate-blue eyes, square chin. Only his nose disturbed the portrait; it looked as if it had taken a barroom punch or two. Growing up in Texas, the son of a poor cotton farmer, he’d been enchanted by tales of the Osage Hills—that vestige of the American frontier where cowboys and Indians were said to still roam. In 1912, at nineteen, he’d packed a bag, like Huck Finn lighting out for the Territory, and gone to live with his uncle, a domineering cattleman named William K. Hale, in Fairfax. “He was not the kind of a man to ask you to do something—he told you,” Ernest once said of Hale, who became his surrogate father. Though Ernest mostly ran errands for Hale, he sometimes worked as a livery driver, which is how he met Mollie, chauffeuring her around town.
Ernest had a tendency to drink moonshine and play Indian stud poker with men of ill repute, but beneath his roughness there seemed to be a tenderness and a trace of insecurity, and Mollie fell in love with him. Born a speaker of Osage, Mollie had learned some English in school; nevertheless, Ernest studied her native language until he could talk with her in it. She suffered from diabetes, and he cared for her when her joints ached and her stomach burned with hunger. After he heard that another man had affections for her, he muttered that he couldn’t live without her.
It wasn’t easy for them to marry. Ernest’s roughneck friends ridiculed him for being a “squaw man.” And though Mollie’s three sisters had wed white men, she felt a responsibility to have an arranged Osage marriage, the way her parents had. Still, Mollie, whose family practiced a mixture of Osage and Catholic beliefs, couldn’t understand why God would let her find love, only to then take it away from her. So, in 1917, she and Ernest exchanged rings, vowing to love each other till eternity.
By 1921, they had a daughter, Elizabeth, who was two years old, and a son, James, who was eight months old and nicknamed Cowboy. Mollie also tended to her aging mother, Lizzie, who had moved in to the house after Mollie’s father passed away. Because of Mollie’s diabetes, Lizzie once feared that she would die young, and beseeched her other children to take care of her. In truth, Mollie was the one who looked after all of them.
May 21 was supposed to be a delightful day for Mollie. She liked to entertain guests and was hosting a small luncheon. After getting dressed, she fed the children. Cowboy often had terrible earaches, and she’d blow in his ears until he stopped crying. Mollie kept her home in meticulous order, and she issued instructions to her servants as the house stirred, everyone bustling about—except Lizzie, who’d fallen ill and stayed in bed. Mollie asked Ernest to ring Anna and see if, for a change, she’d come over to help tend to Lizzie. Anna, as the oldest child in the family, held a special status in their mother’s eyes, and even though Mollie took care of Lizzie, Anna, in spite of her tempestuousness, was the one her mother spoiled.
When Ernest told Anna that her mama needed her, she promised to take a taxi straight there, and she arrived shortly afterward, dressed in bright red shoes, a skirt, and a matching Indian blanket; in her hand was an alligator purse. Before entering, she’d hastily combed her windblown hair and powdered her face. Mollie noticed, however, that her gait was unsteady, her words slurred. Anna was drunk.
Mollie couldn’t hide her displeasure. Some of the guests had already arrived. Among them were two of Ernest’s brothers, Bryan and Horace Burkhart, who, lured by black gold, had moved to Osage County, often assisting Hale on his ranch. One of Ernest’s aunts, who spewed racist notions about Indians, was also visiting, and the last thing Mollie needed was for Anna to stir up the old goat.
Anna slipped off her shoes and began to make a scene. She took a flask from her bag and opened it, releasing the pungent smell of bootleg whiskey. Insisting that she needed to drain the flask before the authorities caught her—it was a year into nationwide Prohibition—she offered the guests a swig of what she called the best white mule.
Mollie knew that Anna had been very troubled of late. She’d recently divorced her husband, a settler named Oda Brown, who owned a livery business. Since then, she’d spent more and more time in the reservation’s tumultuous boomtowns, which had sprung up to house and entertain oil workers—towns like Whizbang, where, it was said, people whizzed all day and banged all night. “All the forces of dissipation and evil are here found,” a U.S. government official reported. “Gambling, drinking, adultery, lying, thieving, murdering.” Anna had become entranced by the places at the dark ends of the streets: the establishments that seemed proper on the exterior but contained hidden rooms filled with glittering bottles of moonshine. One of Anna’s servants later told the authorities that Anna was someone who drank a lot of whiskey and had “very loose morals with white men.”
At Mollie’s house, Anna began to flirt with Ernest’s younger brother, Bryan, whom she’d sometimes dated. He was more brooding than Ernest and had inscrutable yellow-flecked eyes and thinning hair that he wore slicked back. A lawman who knew him described him as a little roustabout. When Bryan asked one of the servants at the luncheon if she’d go to a dance with him that night, Anna said that if he fooled around with another woman, she’d kill him.
Meanwhile, Ernest’s aunt was muttering, loud enough for all to hear, about how mortified she was that her nephew had married a redskin. It was easy for Mollie to subtly strike back because as one of the servants attending to the aunt was white—a blunt reminder of the town’s social order.
Anna continued raising Cain. She fought with the guests, fought with her mother, fought with Mollie. “She was drinking and quarreling,” a servant later told authorities. “I couldn’t understand her language, but they were quarreling.” The servant added, “They had an awful time with Anna, and I was afraid.”
That evening, Mollie planned to look after her mother, while Ernest took the guests into Fairfax, five miles to the northwest, to meet Hale and see Bringing Up Father, a touring musical about a poor Irish immigrant who wins a million-dollar sweepstakes and struggles to assimilate into high society. Bryan, who’d put on a cowboy hat, his catlike eyes peering out from under the brim, offered to drop Anna off at her house.
Before they left, Mollie washed Anna’s clothes, gave her some food to eat, and made sure that she’d sobered up enough that Mollie could glimpse her sister as her usual self, bright and charming. They lingered together, sharing a moment of calm and reconciliation. Then Anna said good-bye, a gold filling flashing through her smile.
With each passing night, Mollie grew more anxious. Bryan insisted that he’d taken Anna straight home and dropped her off before heading to the show. After the third night, Mollie, in her quiet but forceful way, pressed everyone into action. She dispatched Ernest to check on Anna’s house. Ernest jiggled the knob to her front door—it was locked. From the window, the rooms inside appeared dark and deserted.
Ernest stood there alone in the heat. A few days earlier, a cool rain shower had dusted the earth, but afterward the sun’s rays beat down mercilessly through the blackjack trees. This time of year, heat blurred the prairies and made the tall grass creak underfoot. In the distance, through the shimmering light, one could see the skeletal frames of derricks.
Anna’s head servant, who lived next door, came out, and Ernest asked her, “Do you know where Anna is?”
Before the shower, the servant said, she’d stopped by Anna’s house to close any open windows. “I thought the rain would blow in,” she explained. But the door was locked, and there was no sign of Anna. She was gone.
News of her absence coursed through the boomtowns, traveling from porch to porch, from store to store. Fueling the unease were reports that another Osage, Charles Whitehorn, had vanished a week before Anna had. Genial and witty, the thirty-year-old Whitehorn was married to a woman who was part white, part Cheyenne. A local newspaper noted that he was “popular among both the whites and the members of his own tribe.” On May 14, he’d left his home, in the southwestern part of the reservation, for Pawhuska. He never returned.
Table of Contents
Chronicle 1 The Marked Woman
1 The Vanishing 5
2 An Act of God or Man? 17
3 King of the Osage Hills 25
4 Underground Reservation 37
5 The Devil's Disciples 56
6 Million Dollar Elm 70
7 This Thing of Darkness 81
Chronicle 2 The Evidence Man
8 Department of Easy Virtue 103
9 The Undercover Cowboys 113
10 Eliminating the Impossible 119
11 The Third Man 126
12 A Wilderness of Mirrors 133
13 A Hangman's Son 137
14 Dying Words 151
15 The Hidden Face 157
16 For the Betterment of the Bureau 164
17 The Quick-Draw Artist, the Yegg, and the Soup Man 171
18 The State of the Game 179
19 A Traitor to His Blood 196
20 So Help You God! 213
21 The Hot House 225
Chronicle 3 The Reporter
22 Ghostlands 241
23 A Case Not Closed 256
24 Standing in Two Worlds 265
25 The Lost Manuscript 275
26 Blood Cries Out 280
A Note on the Sources 297
Archival and Unpublished Sources 299
Selected Bibliography 325
Reading Group Guide
The questions, discussion topics, and suggestions for further reading that follow are designed to enhance your group’s discussion of Killers of the Flower Moon, the New York Times bestseller that delves into a dark and haunted corner of American history.
1. What do the contemporary media reports on the wealth and lifestyle of the Osage reflect about white perceptions of Native Americans (pp. 6–7; pp. 76–77)? In what way do they lay a foundation for the way the murders and mysterious deaths were treated by law enforcement?
2. What was your first impression of William Hale (p. 17)? How does Grann bring to life his strengths and appeal, as well as the darker side of his nature? What qualities does he share with people who achieve power and influence today?
3. How did you respond to the description of law enforcement in America during the 1920s (p. 19)? What elements most shocked or surprised you? What made the situation in Osage County particularly chaotic? What effect did this have on the investigations into the deaths of Anna Brown and Charles Whitehorn?
4. What does Grann’s account of the relationship between the United States government and Native Americans contribute to your understanding of the country’s history (pp. 37–44)? How did government policies affect individuals like Mollie and her family? What does Grann capture in his description of Lizzie’s death: “Lizzie’s spirit had been claimed by Jesus Christ, the Lord and Savior, and by Wah’Kon-Tah, the Great Mystery” (p. 36)?
5. Discuss the circumstances that distinguished the Osage from other Native American tribes, including the actions taken by tribal leaders early in the century; the influx of white settlers and oil prospectors; the granting of headrights; and the guardianship system (pp. 78–80).
6. What is the significance of the murder of Barney McBride, the oilman who went to Washington to seek help for the Osage (p. 68) and of W.W. Vaughan, the attorney who worked with private detectives investigating the murders (p. 93–4)?
7. What does Grann’s portrait convey about J. Edgar Hoover (p. 107)? What traits stand out and what do they foretell about Hoover’s future as director of the FBI?
8. In what ways does Tom White combine the qualities of the Old West and of the modern bureaucratic system Hoover is trying to create? How does this influence the steps he takes in investigating the murders? How do the various views of White, including the stories of his childhood and his work as a Texas Ranger (pp. 137–153), shape your impressions of him? Would you define him as the hero of the book?
9. How were manufactured evidence, suborned testimony, and false confessions used to divert the FBI investigation? What role did independently hired private eyes and informants play in the search for the truth?
10. The crimes in Osage County involved many levels of deception and betrayal. In addition to the actual conspirators, who else either directly profited from the crimes or was silently complicit in them? In what ways did accepted mores encourage the corruption that plagued the investigation?
11. What role did new methods of criminal investigation play in uncovering the guilty parties? In addition to introducing up-to-date forensic science, how did Hoover use the case to transform the Bureau of Investigation and simultaneously enhance his own image?
12. During Hale’s trial, a member of the Osage tribe said, “It is a question in my mind whether this jury is considering a murder case or not. The question for them to decide is whether a white man killing an Osage is murder—or merely cruelty to animals” (p. 215). Why does this observation resonate beyond the immediate circumstances?
13. Perhaps the most chilling aspect of Killers of the Flower Moon is the marital and familial connections between murderers and their victims. What explains Ernest Burkhart’s actions even as he remained married to and had children with Mollie? How does Grann bring to life the particular horror of crimes committed within a family and a close-knit community?
14. What does the evidence Grann uncovered when he visited Osage County in 2012 reveal about the lasting legacy of the “Reign of Terror”?
15. Killers of the Flower Moon combines the fast pace of a true-life murder mystery with the scope and detail of a narrative history. How does Grann integrate these different aspects of the book?
16. We are familiar with many American crimes and criminals during the early twentieth century from movies, books, and television shows. Why do you think the story of the Osage murders hasn’t received similar attention?
17. Are there recent examples of racial prejudice and injustice that parallel those described in Killers of the Flower Moon? What has changed about the approach taken by law enforcement? About the attitudes expressed by the white community in the face of racial or religious discrimination? In what ways have things remained the same?
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
This is a fabulously sad book about the Osage. I cannot fathom how anyone could harm anyone over money that was not theirs, especially their own family. It is true, not that I ever doubted, "For the love of money is the root of all evil". These roots ran deep and wide, The author and tale drew me in and held me in the hurt and I had to put it down to breathe. I found myself talking about this plight to anyone who would listen. I will go to see Osage county myself and pay my respects. A true treasure .
I was born in Hominy, OK. I grew up with stories about the Osage tribe and their exploitation. This account leaves me breathless. Thank you Mr. Gann.
This is a part of history that should be learned by all. It's a dirty little secret, hidden from the history books. It has now been exposed, this is a must read. A shameful past. Very well written, very well researched. How did any Indians survive this shameful treatment? What other horrors have been dealt to American Indians? I'm sure there's more, unfortunately. Read this book, Never forget!!!
Great book! Very interesting information and well written
Very interesting. Well researched.
I could not put this book down, a great read.
This was a very good book. I had not heard of anything that had happened in this book. I even asked my roommate who grew up in Oklahoma if he had heard of any of this and he had not. I would think that some mention of this would be included in the Oklahoma history books, but I am wrong. This was undoubtedly one of the most shaming book of American history I have ever read. And all of this was done for money. Sickening. I found this book to be very interesting and there were not many pages that I glossed over. Usually in a book like this, there are a few pages that I will do that, not in this one. You can certainly tell that there was a lot of research that was done while writing this book. And the writing also told a story. It wasn't just a bunch of information just thrown in there. I also could not believe the follow-up after the FBI left when there was proof that it just wasn't all Hale's doing. He was bad enough, but all the others? Sad. I also liked reading about the FBI part of it as well. Especially the parts where Hoover is concerned. I will hold off on calling him the names I am thinking. An interesting, very informative, sad, unbelievable, and just downright head shaking read. If your into history or just trivia, this is a book you need to read. Thanks Doubleday Books for approving my request and to Net Galley for providing me with a free e-galley in exchange for an honest review.
Great research and facts.
Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI by David Grann is a very highly recommended account of the Osage murders in Oklahoma during the 1920's. This is sure to be on my top ten nonfiction books of the year. Simply Excellent. "In April, millions of tiny flowers spread over the blackjack hills and vast prairies in the Osage territory of Oklahoma. There are Johnny-jump-ups and spring beauties and little bluets. The Osage writer John Joseph Mathews observed that the galaxy of petals makes it look as if the 'gods had left confetti.' In May, when coyotes howl beneath an unnervingly large moon, taller plants, such as spiderworts and black-eyed Susans, begin to creep over the tinier blooms, stealing their light and water. The necks of the smaller flowers break and their petals flutter away, and before long they are buried underground. This is why the Osage Indians refer to May as the time of the flower-killing moon." After oil was discovered on land where the mineral rights were owned by the Osage Indian Nation in Oklahoma, the Osage became the richest people per capita in the world. Millions of dollars was distributed to tribal members holding "headrights" which could not be bought or sold but only inherited. As history has often shown, with great wealth come unethical, immoral people looking for a way to take advantage. In the case of the Osage it was through several methods including: charging them more than others for any good and services; having them declared incompetent to handle their financial affairs so influential white men were declared administrators of their estates, allowing them to legally swindle the Osage; and marrying an Osage tribal member. If these corrupt practices weren't bad enough, it became clear that the Osage were being murdered, through car accidents, poison, bombings, or outright shooting. Mollie Burkhart saw her family slowed killed off, one by one. One sister was likely poisoned, while another sister was shot. Her mother was poisoned - and Molly herself was in danger. Molly wasn't the only family experiencing murder and mysterious deaths either. To make matters more complicated, anyone looking into the deaths turned up dead too. It became known as the "Reign of Terror" and it was unknown how high up the corruption went to protect the perpetrators. A young J. Edgar Hoover took notice of the death toll of over twenty-four Osage, and saw solving these cases and bringing the perpetrators to justice as a means of increasing the importance of the new FBI. He put former Texas Ranger Tom White in charge. White proceeded to amass an undercover team, including one of the only Native American agents in the bureau, and set out to uncovered the people and corruption that were behind the murders. Grann continues his research beyond the initial investigation, exposing facts which show that the corruption extended even further beyond the limited scope of the FBI investigation. Killers of the Flower Moon is a riveting historical true crime account that reads like a mystery/thriller. The writing is superb and the presentation flawless. Grann does an excellent job describing the setting and people involved. Adding to the narrative are many period photographs of the people involved. This is a well-researched book and covers everything I look for in nonfiction. Grann has documented his sources in a vast section of chapter notes and includes an extensive bibliography. courtesy of Doubleday
Recommend it highly.
This is an excellent read. Based on solid research and interviews. Sickening that this happened to indigenous people and was essentally sanctioned by local authotities and allowed by the highly predjudiced US government.
I understand the book needed to be fact-based. However it was a bit dry. I wish it had been told with more sympathy/Emotion.
Nook book is 30% more expensive then the paperback! This is absolute abuse of nook owners! Screw B&N!!!
Having this presented as a novel allows more people to understand the injustice done to the Osage and to the other tribes in the Indian Territory. Not only was their land drained of oil and natural gas, the land itself was eventually given up for grabs. Thls was only part of many in a long line of injustices. Some wanted the Indians to be treated fairly, but more often man's greed won out.
This story reminds me of today's large lottery winners. Too much money and there is bound to be problems. The Osage Indian needed to be educated on handling money. A pre-natal would have protected the head rights with no inheritance to anyone without Osage birth certificate. Is money more important than life? People have been killed for it since it was invented.
Mr Gann tells a page turner story. I wish he would have given more information about those murdered, told about their lives. Even a chart with name, age, cause of death, estimated amount of money stolen, and suspect to illustrate the scope.
Highly recommend to anyone. The book is a page turner and I could not stop thinking about it days after. It exposes a dark past of American history and is shocking, sad, and frightening that this occurred. What's even more shocking is that this was the first time I (and probably most readers) learned of this tragedy. The book is even more powerful by telling the stories of those affected and those who tried to bring justice.
Very good read and very eye opening.
Interesting book on an event that is never taught in school. I especially liked when the investigation is taken over by the FBI. I was appalled by the murders. The Osage were intelligent when negotiating with the government and got the mineral rights to their lands. White man greed once again destroys lives and the Osage community because of oil. I also liked the last part as the reporter is going over the story and discovers that the four years of terror started long before those years and lasted longer with many more men and women who should have been arrested and prosecuted. Mr. Grann put a human face to the people whose lives were affected and the actions of those who were to protect the Osage cannot be justified. Shameful! A good read.
A must-read on Native American history. Very well researched and presented. Just when you think you've seen the worst of what the white invaders have done, along comes another story which confounds in it's greed, bigotry, oppression and ability to do evil.
“History is a merciless judge. It lays bare our tragic blunders and foolish missteps and exposes our most intimate secrets, wielding the power of hindsight like an arrogant detective who seems to know the end of the mystery from the outset.” In this book the tragic history of what was done to a tribe of people for greed is told. It reveals so much mystery and a dark heart of American history. It also discloses the beginnings of law enforcement and the FBI and what the early days of these two industries were like in action. Humanity is flawed, and we got some things terribly wrong, I believe books like this one are so important to remind us to be different going forward. I give this book 4 stars. A first I had a hard time with the book going back and forth between two sides of the story, from the perspective of the Osage and on family in particular, to the perspective of the early law enforcement. It didn’t take long to catch on to the style though, and there is so much heart mixed in with facts in the telling of this story.
I am having a really hard time with this book. I am very interested in the subject matter. I feel it has the potential for greatness. But, something about the construction of the book is not working for me. I want to connect with the characters, but they are not developed. There are so many names, sometimes only one or two sentences referencing a name in history, but it is very hard to keep them all straight. It is difficult to determine which will, in fact, be points of reference in history only, and which may reappear and you will want to remember the name and significance. I do not believe that it flows well. I find my mind wandering extremely easily. Generally speaking, I like non-fiction a lot, but in this case I feel that it would work better as a piece of fiction telling of the murders and the uncovering of the guilty parties. I have read 100 pages, and I just do not see myself picking it up again. I am bummed, as I really think this unknown piece of history should have me hooked.