Disaster Management: 1973 Fire in St. Louis at the Military Personnel Records Center

In this week's class, we discussed several different topics including audiovisual and photographic preservation, as well as the difference between conservation and preservation. What I found to be most interesting was our discussion on disaster management. Having worked at several institutions where disasters have occurred, I've witnessed firsthand the implications of unexpected events, even if the institution was properly prepared. 

This past summer, I interned at Independence National Historical Park, where a fire broke out in the basement of the Second Bank of the United States. I worked on the conservation effort helping to mitigate soot presence on over 10,000 artifacts. However, it is intriguing to see how the cleanup and conservation effort is handled in an archival setting where not only the physical copies can be damaged, but the actual information contained within them can be permanently erased. 

A particular case study is the July 1973 fire that erupted within the Military Personnel Records Center (MPRC) just outside of St. Louis. The MPRC held over 22 million records that documented the service of Army, Army Air Force, and Air Force veterans between 1912 and 1963. You can read more about it here: https://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/2013/spring/stl-fire.pdf 

While the fire damaged over 70 percent of the MPRC's records, the incident proved fundamental in sparking new disaster management protocols. This included installing fire suppression sprinklers, as well as new strategies for conserving damaged documents. The first thought that comes to mind, however, is: how are veterans and their families to access records that relate to them if they've been damaged? The Records Reconstruction Branch helps to make the information in burned records available to those who seek it, though some information is undoubtedly lost forever. It is certainly a loss of power for an archives, but it also affects veterans' access to important benefits they are eligible for through the state. 

Disasters within archives, such as this one, are detriments to larger archival functions and purpose. However, they established precedents that demonstrated the importance of preparedness for possible disasters and protocols for appropriate response. 

The Power of Archives

This past week, our classmates took the floor to discuss various topics in the archives world that pertained to our particular interests. I noticed that the nature of the archival focus was split between the class. While half of us focused on individual archives, others spoke about local archival institutions or an online archival presence. About half of us spoke about federal records site, which was an intriguing opening to a conversation about the inherent power of the archives. 

The focus on U.S. government-owned archives is not surprising. It often has the most visibility, as it documents a "grand sweep - type" history of the United States. It is one of the biggest sources of historical power. As Mark Greene explained in "The Power of Archives", the power of the archives and the archivist comes, in part, from "shaping the historical record." (Greene 20). As the visibility of government archives is often more apparent than private ones for its roots in authority, it seems to represent those who are powerful and neglects the powerless.

So, how do you represent groups that are all but absent from the archives? Keith brought up in last week's class some of the readings that we had consulted our first year of graduate school that delved into this issue. The historian Saidiya Hartman, in "Venus in Two Acts" wrestled with properly documenting the experiences of enslaved women in the Atlantic world. Hartman articulates the ultimate struggle, "Is it possible to construct a story from “the locus of impossible speech” or resurrect lives from the ruins? Can beauty provide an antidote to dishonor, and love a way to “exhume buried cries” and reanimate the dead?" (Hartman 2).

Historians can't transcend what does exist in the historical record. That would violate the virtues of our profession and some semblance of truth that exists. Even so, archives hold all sorts of documents that can lead us to historically oppressed groups, but it sometimes takes being a little creative. I've had friends tell me they search all kinds of archives for store registries for purchases made by women, or journals, and any other number of ways to document the experiences of those silenced by the archives. Government archives hold power, but local archives do, too. It just takes a little bit of searching. 

Archives as the Site of Social Action and Retribution

                In last week’s readings and class discussion, we came across a case in which the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) was contacted in heavy waves by Japanese-Americans in the 1980s who were forcibly held in internment camps during World War II. In order to be compensated by Congress and seek retribution, they were asked to prove their internment. (David Bearman, “Access and Use,” Chapter IV). For a student like me who uses archives almost exclusively for academic work, it’s a reminder that archives are sites not only established for the pursuit of academic knowledge, but in search of a personal and social one as well. Archives can serve as power tools for social and political action in the pursuit of retribution.

                I encountered a situation directly this past March while I was researching at NARA in College Park, Maryland, just outside of Washington, D.C. While waiting for my new researcher card, I was seated next to an older gentleman. We began talking about our reasons for visiting, to which he told me that he had traveled halfway across the country to obtain records to prove that he had served in a specific battle and troop during the Vietnam War to prove he was eligible for certain veterans’ benefits.

                While I don’t know the outcome of this man’s story, I think it speaks volumes about the place of archives within the public sphere. Mark Greene, in his “The Power of Archives” piece articulated democracy as one of the enduring values of the archival profession. Said Greene, “archivists are more concerned with governmental accountability in a republic.” (Greene 31). In many ways, as others have argued, this is how an archives can determine its enduring value to justify its existence. 

NARA Releases 9/11 Emails: The Politicization of Processing and Access

What priorities decide how quickly things get processed and made available? Last night’s class discussion, centered, in part, on this prioritization of this goal. One of those priorities, of course, was political. This was particularly relevant when I stumbled upon this week’s New York Times article “9/11 White House Emails Capture History Through Modern Lens,” which you can read here: http://nyti.ms/1gbFvw4

The George W. Bush Presidential Library, managed by the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), released several emails sent out the morning of 9/11 fourteen years ago. While many were not made public due to strict privacy and national security concerns, several were released that highlight some of the day’s initial shock.   

NARA released the emails to The New York Times as the country commemorates the fourteenth anniversary of 9/11. The anniversary of 9/11 as well as its presence in very recent memory makes these emails a particularly relevant set of records in public discourse and collective remembering. I certainly have held the trope that scholars and historians are bulk of an archives’ visitors. But Frederic Miller’s “Use, Appraisal, and Research: A Case Study of Social History” on social historians’ use of archives has debunked that notion. Everyone accesses archives; scholars are just a minute percentage of users. (Miller 374).

The NYT article demonstrates that as well. Archivists are more visible than we think they are, so their audiences are far-reaching and ever-present. NARA’s decision to release these previously classified items indicates the politicization of processing and release. But it further indicates archivists’ participation in modern-day discourse and shaping of memory and national conversations.

While I wish I could say that I was in the board room meetings when NARA decided to release these records, I imagine that it was challenging and maybe even polarizing. However, I’m sure that these archivists were unanimous on their appraisal value, but how do we determine the value of other records that may at first look less immediately significant? I hope to explore this more as the class goes on! 

What is an Archivist?

            My favorite thing about blogging is this that I can trace how my ideas evolve over time. It’s a document of where I started and charts the time frame that led me to where I am now in my thinking. Continuing my public history blog for my Archives and Manuscripts class is a way for me to think about how I define the archivist’s profession after one class and see how I articulate its purpose a few months down the line in December.

            Margery, my professor, asked us at the end of this week’s class to think about how we would define in an “elevator” speech the purpose and value of an archivist and the archives profession. It got me thinking. How would I define it right now?

            Well, I would say, “An archivist processes, manages, and makes available a variety of media that serve audiences in their pursuit of knowledge.” This definition, though, comes from the perspective of a researcher who has used archives extensively in the past. I’ve looked at archives as a way to acquire the information that I need and seen archivists as the medium through which I could obtain this knowledge.

            However, I had been unaware of how archivists viewed themselves and their profession until I read Mark A. Greene’s “The Power of Archives: Archivists’ Values and Value in the Postmodern Age.” Explained Greene, many, including myself, view archivists as people who simply “do.” This is in large part due to a lack awareness of archivists’ own power. But that leaves out the larger mission that archivists work towards. It also leaves out from the larger conversation their power in shaping the historical record.

            Having read Greene’s piece has made me wrestle with my own definition that I came up with above. This is a challenge that I hope to further refine in my blog as the semester continues.  My biggest revision in my definition and in my general view of the archivists' profession is that archivists are active shapers of the historical process.

Share Your Story

            My story with the National Park Service (NPS) officially began with my participation in the George Wright Fellowship at Independence National Historical Park (INDE) in Philadelphia. At least, that was the official beginning. Even so, I suppose you could trace my trail to the Park Service much further.

            I’ve always loved history. Despite my quick stint with wanting to become a doctor in my high school years, my passion for understanding worlds so different than my own was a paramount interest in my life. I was an anomaly among my classmates; while others were lost in the ticking hands of the clock until history class was over, I thought forty minutes weren’t nearly enough.

            My house was a history classroom all on its own. My parents, Portuguese immigrants, introduced me to new narratives outside the ones I was being presented in school. Teenagers during the Revolution of 1974 in Portugal, they told stories of a socialist regime, censorship, and the democratic reforms that came in its aftermath. I had a personal connection to these stories. But while most of my classmates’ histories were mirrored in our assigned textbooks and displayed in local heritage sites, I struggled to see and identify myself in courses that truncated Portuguese history after Prince Henry the Navigator and Vasco Da Gama. If I couldn’t see myself in it, I was determined to contribute and make myself a part of it.

            My decision to major in history in college was my attempt to become an active participant in the historical process. I didn’t just want to write about history, but I wanted to encourage others to be as excited about history as I was. I volunteered at different museums wherever I could to work with audiences. My journey to personally connect with history has directly influenced my desire to help others develop relationships with their past and the cultural sites around them. In many ways, I see myself in the NPS mission.

            When I began graduate school to study Public History, I became immersed in the National Park Service. During my first semester, I read the 2014 “Imperiled Promise” report, which introduced me to a world I had previously left unexplored. After reading the Report, I wanted to come involved with the NPS. That opportunity came around when I applied and was accepted to the George Wright Fellowship at Independence. Myself, along with seven other graduate students, designed an exhibit for New Hall Military Museum, site of the first United States War Department. It was an incredible opportunity to witness how history “is done” within the NPS. I later combined my interest in international and NPS history when I wrote a paper that examined the NPS’s Division of International Affairs in the 1950s and 1960s and its various projects abroad.

            A few months following the George Wright Fellowship, I was invited back to Independence for a summer internship. In January 2015, a fire erupted in the historic Second Bank of the United States. While no damage occurred in the building, I was asked to participate in the conservation project cleaning and restoring over 10,000 objects in the Second Bank’s collection storage area.

            The opportunity to assist in such a vital project has been a learning experience for me. Without these resources, we are endangering the public’s access to important artifacts that tell multiple and intersecting stories. Working with the NPS in the conservation effort has made me a contributor and participant in the park’s past. I’m so grateful to be a part of it, and I want to invite others to do the same in my future career as a public historian. The NPS makes strides to make the past learning grounds for audiences, and I’m excited to collaborate with an institution that takes learning about the past very seriously.

            This is my story. 

Week Nine at Independence: Data Entry and Art Conservators

            It’s the last week of July, which means I’ve been at INDE for almost two months! The coming month seems to be quite a few “lasts” – I’ll be starting my last first day of school in a few weeks, and my last day at INDE is fast approaching. Before I dive into a wave of nostalgia, let me take you into the final week of July here at INDE.

           

            I started off the week continuing with the data entry, which I presume will take me several weeks to complete seeing how there are a few hundred records that I need to modify. I’ve finished the records for the cabinets in one of the rooms, and I’ve moved on to the records pertaining to the flat-file cases.

           

            Perhaps the most interesting part of this week has been touring the Portrait Gallery in the Second Bank. Following the fire, tests were conducted by conservators to assess the damage of the various paintings in the Gallery. While none were charred or suffered water damage, heavy layers of soot rest on the canvases of individual paintings. This week, Karie toured around several conservators and bidders interested in working on the project to clean the individual paintings in most need of attention. Karie showed them the various work spaces where they would be conducting their work, as well as the actual artworks. A conservator will be chosen later this year, but it will be interesting to see how the process turns out.

            I always enjoy observing when outside conservators come to the Second Bank because it gives me a chance to not only learn about the conservation process, but it’s also also an opportunity for me to learn how contracts are drafted by the NPS and independent contractors, budgets, etc. The work that occurs in a cultural institution has value, and this process ensures that individuals are being compensated for the important work that they do.

            Next week, I’m set to meet with another conservator to take another look at the Sharples in the Portrait Gallery. When I helped to clean them during my first few weeks here, I noticed that three of them were not covered in conservator’s tape, so the conservator is coming to examine them. These mini field trips are wonderful!