Uncommon ground; Four months after the suicide of its author, 'Big Trouble' dredges up a complex struggle for the 'Soul of America'

As J. Anthony Lukas sat in his now-familiar Idanha Hotel room in Boise in December 1996, he mulled over the scope of his work the past seven years: researching thousands of pages of historical documents; tracing the roots of dozens of public and private turn-of-the-century characters; journeying to the far reaches of the Rocky Mountain West -- all done far from his Manhattan apartment.

For the two-time Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter and author, the 1905 murder of former Idaho Gov. Frank Steunenberg and the ensuing trial -- captured in his book, "Big Trouble: A Murder in a Small Western Town Sets Off a Struggle for the Soul of America" -- offered the perfect opportunity to put his meticulous research skills and story-telling ability to work on a subject still relevant after nearly a century, the struggle between America's social classes.

"As I read the yellowing documents at the Idaho State Historical Society," Lukas wrote, just a year ago, "I realized the story would carry me across a broad swath of turn-of-the-century America: into the mining wars of Colorado and Idaho's Coeur d'Alene region; to the history of the Twenty-fourth Infantry Regiment, one of the army's four black units at the time; to the mounting resentment of the monopolistic power of American railroads and other great corporate trusts; to the countervailing fears stirred by the socialist and anarchist movements that were then gaining ground ... to Theodore Roosevelt's vigorous efforts to stave off an approaching social apocalypse ...

"I hope that in telling this big story I've helped illuminate the class question at a time when the gap between our richest and poorest citizens grows ever wider."

Four months prior to the release of "Big Trouble," Lukas hanged himself, thus ending the life and career of a celebrated writer who won't see the gap between rich and poor shrink, or whether his final literary opus helps mend the class divisions he so diligently outlined in its pages.

Lukas won his first Pulitzer in 1968 for his work as a foreign and domestic correspondent at the New York Times. His second came in 1985 with publication of "Common Ground," a book examining the lives of three families affected by Boston's school desegregation struggles.

After seven years of research for "Common Ground," and the publicity tour that followed, Lukas began searching for another book topic. He finally chose the Steunenberg case, and began making research jaunts to Idaho.

The result is 875 pages of richly detailed history, based almost exclusively on historical documentation and Lukas' ability to act as detective and editor in putting the tale together in an accurate and compelling way. Seventy-four of the pages are dedicated solely to his notes and a bibliography of the books Lukas used for background.

Lukas' obsession with telling the whole story -- with each subplot of the Steunenberg murder and trial getting equal attention from the author as the actual case -- is both the best and worst part of "Big Trouble." While there's no denying the reader gets what must be the most complete and detailed view of turn-of-the-century Idaho, there are actually a number of book-worthy topics within "Big Trouble," which may have stood better on their own rather than being included within the Steunenberg story.

In "Big Trouble," Lukas chronicles the rise of private detectives in America's justice system, the ongoing feuds between labor and big business at the turn of the century, the evolution of American journalism and the development of the country's rail system, among other subjects.

Lukas provides incredible detail and research to each subplot of the book, but the centerpiece is clearly the trial following the former governor's murder.

Steunenberg may have sealed his fate six years prior to the explosion at his Caldwell home that took his life when, as governor, he called in federal troops to quell a 1899 strike in Couer d'Alene by the Western Federation of Miners. About 1,000 strikers were rounded up by the federal troops and held in deplorable conditions for months with no counsel or trial offered.

Steunenberg apparently became a marked man, and at age 33, in 1905, he was "blown into eternity" shortly after Christmas by a bomb rigged to the gate at the front of his home.

Suspicions quickly turned to labor, and when a drifter was arrested, he promptly named three leaders of the Western Federation of Miners, including "Big Bill" Haywood, as the instigators of the murder.

The saga which ensued, including kidnapping, bribery and a three-month trial matching the wits of Idaho's newly elected junior senator William Borah and renowned defense attorney Clarance Darrow, makes up the most interesting focus of Lukas' book.

Lukas' suicide -- following in the footsteps of his mother, grandmother and uncle -- after completing such a massive undertaking makes one wonder if the years of solitary research had any part in his decision to take his own life.

Unfortunately for the reader, who can't help coming away from "Big Trouble" more educated about America and how the country arrived where it is today, Lukas won't be dedicating his soul and passion to any subjects he may have found equally compelling and universal as the story he found in a small, southeastern Idaho town.