Thank heavens for people like William Swain who took the time to record their personal stories and let it become, in a sense, a first-person history tale to people in the 21st century. Swain goes into great detail about his trials and tribulations and you begin to care so much about him, it almost becomes a novel. It accidentally sets the reader up for disappointment in the end by Swain reaching home and the story suddenly stopping. You'll find yourself asking, how did Eliza greet her papa? What did Swain do with the meager amount of money he made? What was Sabrina and her husband's first words to each other after an almost two-year absence? Of course, it's not Swain's fault for ending his diary at home. He merely kept the journal to update his family on his journey; not give readers 150 years later an autobiography. Holliday can not answer these final questions either and rightfully so, he does not try. You are left to ponder how it ended and hopefully, after reading so many emotional passages from William and Sabrina, you can use your imagination to answer the homecoming questions.

Holliday blends the information together wonderfully by arranging each chapter into three sections:

1. an overall historical account

2. Swain's diary

3. A Back Home section in which letters written to Swain from wife Sabrina and brother George are included.

The format works splendidly for the reader and keeps everything in a proper time frame. Holliday also includes scaled-down regional maps for every chapter which lets the reader follow along on a microcosm/macrocosm scope of the total journey. Holliday has also laboriously researched hundreds of other personal diaries and includes passages from them when Swain leaves gaps or when a quirky story can be added to intrigue the reader further. The World Rushed In is a fast read and I recommend it to anyone who is interested in Western US history or is just looking for a great story.

This is a superb, gripping and very personal account of one man's experience travelling to and from the California gold rush. The fact that Holliday had access to virtually all the letters sent from him and to him on the trail makes this book even more enticing. It made me feel that I was taking every step with William Swain on his journey, sharing in his joys and sorrows and those of his brother and wife back home. I thoroughly recommend this book, I couldn't put it down.

This book tells the story of my wife's cousin, William Swain. Swain witnessed over a hundred cholera victims, alive a day earlier, now buried in the sand banks of the Mississippi River. Bodies strewn along the Nevada trail, he viewed the tragedy. Ships, valued in the millions, he viewed abandoned in San Francisco bay.

As family members, we have John Holliday to thank. Moreover, I was thrilled with each page of Holliday's book. The 1849 Gold Rush extracted more from its participants, due to gold fever, than they got in return from the California mines. That's exactly what happened to William, who, in May of 1848, left his lovely wife, Sabrina, a newborn daughter, his brother George, and his farm residence in Youngstown, NY. William, in his heart, knew he would make it big in California country. At least he must try. And, Sabrina, not knowing the hardships and penniless outcome, gave her loving agreement. Along the way William witnessed death and deprivation, loneliness and hunger. He arrived hopeful in gold country, plied his efforts, and came away luckily with the skin on his back. He differed from most in one important way: William kept a journal. And, Sabrina and William wrote and saved their letters, from which Holliday made one of America's finest narratives. William, weighted with introspective highlight, wrote to George, "If you're thinking of coming out here, for [Gosh] sakes, do not!" William pleaded. Prospectors and miners everywhere, food scarce, prices high, California gold fields deluded nearly all. "And no one I know has gotten rich," William offered. William, beaten in his quest, longed to be with Sabrina and brother George. Ready to return, he had saved $400. He longed to bring it all home, to hand to Sabrina. But, think of it, did you ever try to get from Sacramento to Niagara Falls in 1850, while tired and broke? Yikes. No train. William would have to walk the same way home he came, over that horrible trail. He couldn't face that prospect. So, William scraped his pockets clean, and purchased passage on a ship, via Panama. Just one catch: There was no Panama Canal. That happened 60 years later. William made his way to San Francisco bay. He boarded ship. He endured sea sickness. He ate crummy food. He arrived at Panama, shaken. Next, he and all passengers traversed the 50 mile overland eastward trek with a guide. Threatened with abandonment in the jungle, he paid double. Weak, he arrived at the east side of the Isthmus, broke. William struggled on board ship. It traveled north, taking forever, to arrive at New York City. There, George, who knew to meet him from William's earlier letter, stood waiting at the gangplank. William, broke and sick, 25 pounds skinnier, staggered into his brother's arms. George helped William toward home, finally past beloved Niagara Falls, north to Youngstown. There, adoring, relieved, Sabrina faithfully nursed William back to health. Asked late in life if it was worth it, William avoided answering. He merely declared he loved his Youngstown. Can you read between the lines on that one? 'Nuff said.