Shared History of the Imagination: The Cathartic Process of Evading the Historical Expert

by Jeremy Manczuk-

Sylvan Springs Park (located in South St. Louis County) sits in stark historical contrast to its neighbor, Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery.  Situated on 331 acres alongside the Mississippi River, Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery is home to nearly 200,000 soldier’s graves and was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1998.  The seemingly endless rows of unadorned, white tombstones are a vivid reminder of the attraction military service holds in the mind of the American public and, in some cases, of the price that attraction can carry.  Jefferson Barracks County Park (the other neighbor of Sylvan Springs and the National Cemetery) was home to the Jefferson Barracks Military Post which was decommissioned in 1946 after 120 years of military presence.  This park is now the residence of several museums – in fact, the Missouri Civil War Museum is scheduled to open there this summer.  Historical recollection, celebration, and interpretation abound!

Poor Sylvan Springs, unfortunately, cannot compete.  Historically speaking, all Sylvan Springs can claim – in the manner of tangible historical artifact – is an old, but well-kept picnic area built around a spring and a sign posted to inform passers-by of its origins.  There are no historical intermediaries to assist the public with conclusions; there are no sweeping generalizations; there is no thesis.  Built by the Missouri 6th Infantry in 1939, in conjunction with the Civilian Conservation Corps, the beverage garden offered only relief from a world destined – as all worlds, I imagine, are so fated –  to change forever.  It is this relief that I daydream about whenever I happen to be in this spot. Though the world was just beginning to become visibly entangled in a horrific war that would alter the lives of so many these young soldiers, they and their guests sought brief solace by this spring in the form of barbeques and nighttime dances.

All of this conjecture is, of course, solely a product of my imagination. I do not know what became of the 6th Infantry as a whole or of the individuals who comprised it.  If I were a better, more diligent historian I imagine I could find out. In the interest of avoiding boredom, I think I will not. For the purpose of this blog posting, however, it does not really matter. Dreams and imagination are constant presences in the construction of human history. When we allow own dreams and imaginations to interact with those of the past…well, I believe that is the point at which limitations evaporate and history becomes incredibly interesting. My point is–and though I feel I am in danger of being labeled an addle-brained, new- age, phony-baloney I will persist–that we interact with history much more than we think we do.  Historians (public or otherwise) generally offer the public a beneficial source of historical information and interpretation. That same public, however, may be best served, at times, left to their own devices.

Corporate History as Public History? Why Public Historians Should Care About Corporate Museums

by Christina Carlson-

In the past few weeks in class we have talked about several forms of museums and the challenges associated with presenting history at a public museum. However, I believe there is another type of museum that we have not covered, and which actually may not belong in the realm of “public history” at all, but I believe is still important to address: the corporate history museum.

I define corporate history museums as museums which are put together, either directly or indirectly, by a for profit corporation in order to promote its history.  Corporate history “museums” may be as small as a display case, or as large as an entire building. All corporate history museums, though, exist for the purpose of presenting their company in a positive light by using artifacts, photographs, and other information from the company’s history.  Examples of this type of museum would be the Louisville Slugger Museum in Louisville, KY, one of the many Wells Fargo Museums, the John Deere Pavilion in Moline, IL, or the Wood River Refinery History Museum.

The chief difference between a corporate history (presented by a corporation) and a traditional museum is mostly related to the way in which historical material is presented. Corporate history museums tend to be almost completely celebratory, with their primary purpose being to present themselves in a positive light in order to gain more business. Many times these exhibits are created by museum professionals who specialize in corporate history.

Why is it important for public historians to address corporate history museums and displays? For one, the trend of using a corporation’s past to promote business or to enhance the image of the company is becoming much more popular. Major corporations are increasingly turning to history to address current controversial issues over labor relations, exploitation, and environmental dangers. The History Factory, one of the largest consulting firms for corporate history displays, clearly reflects this mission on its homepage:

“The History Factory is a heritage management firm that helps today’s leading global corporations, organizations and institutions discover, preserve and leverage their unique history to meet today’s business challenges.”

The general goal of the corporate history museum is evident in this mission statement, and the desire to promote business is at the forefront of nearly every corporate museum.

It is also vital for public historians to address the growing field of corporate history because the themes presented in a corporate museum may run contrary to the ideas public historians want to convey. A corporate museum is not likely to present past labor issues and disputes or controversial environmental issues, while another history museum may wish to emphasize these corporate shortcomings. People who attend both corporate and non-corporate museums may find these contradictions confusing. If the Shell Oil museum tells about all of the great things the company has done for the community, how can another museum’s exhibit successfully question this narrative? After all, shouldn’t Shell know more about it’s own company than some outside museum? It is questions such as these that museum professionals outside of the corporate world will need to answer as corporate museums continue to grow in popularity.

Still, on a practical level, would it really be bad for a public historian to be involved in corporate history? After all, with the job market for historians on the decline, working for a major corporation might be a wise career decision in terms of job security. I suppose my personal response to this is that, had my primary concern in life been wealth building, I would not have pursued history in the first place.

For another look at the growing trend of corporate museums, see the American Association of Museums article “Corporate, Culture? One Part Education. One Part Sales. This is the Corporate Museum.”

Messing with the Laws of Physics: Can One Historic Site be in Two Locations at Once?

by Melissa Burns-

Historic locations are among America’s most valuable resources, and their preservation is of vital importance.  They remind us of where we have been and where we are going. Without them, our nation is afloat, untethered to its past and uncertain of its future. But what happens when the exact location of a site is in question?  Do we accept defeat and forget about the location, or do we choose an uncertain spot to commemorate history? And what happens if two different places both lay claim to the same historic site?  I began to ponder these issues on a recent visit to the Lewis and Clark Historic Site in Hartford, Illinois, which memorializes a historic event in an inaccurate location.

The Visitor's Center at the Lewis and Clark Historic Site

The museum records the time spent by the Lewis and Clark Expedition at Camp River Dubois, shortly before departing on their now famous journey.  During the winter of 1803, Meriwether Lewis, William Clark, and their men, were stationed at Fort River Dubois while making the final preparations for their trip and waiting for the day when the Louisiana Purchase officially changed from French to American territory. The story of the expedition’s time at the fort is quite well told by the museum, in my opinion. Through a combination of film, interactive exhibits, and life-size recreations, including a replica of the fort itself, visitors are forced to confront some of the reality of daily life in an early-nineteenth century military fort.

Recreation of Fort River Dubois

No matter how great the museum and replicated fort are, though, there is still a question of uncertainty and misrepresentation about them. The original camp and fort were located near the confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers because this allowed for an easily navigable start to the expedition. But, while Fort River Dubois was situated on the Illinois side of the Mississippi, it did not stand in the same spot as the modern version. About half a mile separates the two fort locations. The reason for this has to do with the changed course of the Mississippi River.  This is a more than valid reason for building the reproduced fort in a new location, and the museum is very up front about the site difference.  However, I wonder how many people travel to the museum thinking they are going to the exact spot where Lewis and Clark spent the winter of 1803, and I am also curious as to how many pay close enough attention to actually catch the switch.

Although I see the problems inherent in not knowing with absolute certainty the location of historic events, I am not bothered by the problem unless the doubt leads to the abandonment of commemoration.  And even though things do become more difficult when two cities or states lay claim to the same event, as is so often the case when it comes to Illinois and Missouri and the Lewis and Clark Expedition, I am still not worried.  The disagreement means that the historic site is sure not to be forgotten, and it allows for the public to see that history is not something set in stone but, rather, open for tremendous variations in interpretation. In the end, I believe that it is better to erect a museum or historic marker in an inaccurate spot than to forget altogether.  After all, half a mile is not really that far off.

Labor in the City: A Short Review of The St. Louis Labor History Tour

by Jeremy Manczuk-

The St. Louis Labor History Tour is a walking tour highlighting the major labor disputes in St. Louis from the American Civil War and the Railroad Strikes of 1877 through the struggles of Harold J. Gibbons and the Teamsters Local 688 to provide health care for underprivileged workers from the early 1940s until the mid-1970s.  The nearly-thirty page tour booklet was edited by Rosemary Feurer with sections written by David Roediger, Marilyn Slaughter, Lon Smith, and Dina Young.  The tour booklet, which can be found at the website of Northern Illinois University, covers two geographical areas – downtown St. Louis and several locations in North St. Louis along Highway 70.

Despite the abundance of authors The St. Louis Labor History Tour is remarkably consistent.  Regardless of site or event each contributor attempts to explain and examine the most serious questions surrounding the field of labor history.  Each section investigates the working class of St. Louis and their attempts to improve “their workplace and society.”  In response, as the booklet’s authors demonstrate, the elite and capitalist classes struggled to maintain their control over the issues of work and the direction of St. Louis society.  The failures of the working class – most prominent is the lack of inclusivity – are also well-documented.  Overall, the textual portion of the tour is informative, persuasive, and, most importantly, it holds its subjects – all of them – accountable for the city they helped to create.

Although many of the locations on the walking tour no longer exist – and those that do are almost all used in a different capacity than they were when the events depicted in the tour occurred – it is, I believe, worthwhile to actually walk the route of the tour rather than simply read the text.  As we have learned throughout the length of this course in Public History – in both the readings and our discussions – it is important to not think of history as something that exists merely in the past with no repercussions for or connections to the present.  This sense of historical continuity is addressed in the conclusion of the booklet as well.  Although we are in the “midst of the development of a new ‘global’ economy,” Feurer claims, “solidarity is developed in face to face contact at the local level before it can be imagined at a broader level.”  It works, I think, the other way as well.  In order to make sense of – or benefit from – the decisions and consequences of the past, it can only help to imagine the present as tied intricately to the historical events being analyzed.

Who Pays for Public History?

by Melissa Burns-

As a child, my Mom and Grandma frequently took me on trips to Shawnee National Forest. My Grandma had grown up in the area, so it was important for her that her grandkids experience the world that she had known as a child. We took hiking trips to Garden of the Gods, went swimming at Pound’s Hollow, and picnicked at Cave in Rock, all wonderfully natured-inspired day trips.  What stands out most in my mind, though, are the trips we took to a small museum outside the town of Equality.  Sadly, the future of this museum has recently been in doubt.

Known by several different names, most people, including my Grandma, called the museum the Old Slave House. The museum was really a former estate, built by John Crenshaw in the early part of the nineteenth-century.

The Crenshaw House

The Crenshaw family had built their wealth upon the nearby salt mines, and the big house was an outward manifestation of that prosperity. However, the Crenshaw house was not transformed into a museum as an example of historic architecture or even in remembrance of an important local figure. Because salt mining was deemed too laborious for regular workers, Crenshaw was able to secure the only legal permit in the free state of Illinois to own slaves. The Crenshaw House, or the Old Slave House, was therefore a reminder of a little known part of Illinois’ history, a part which many would probably just as rather forget about.

The Old Slave House sits atop an imposing hill and is visible for quite a distance.  Besides the main house, the grounds include a barn and vignettes with the tools used in gathering and processing the salt. The house itself is three stories, the first and second of which were the main living quarters for the family.  Having been authentically restored and housing a collection of the family’s belongings, they serve as the majority of the museum. And, in the fine tradition of deifying all things Lincoln, there is even a bedroom on the first floor that he reportedly slept in one night. The third floor of the main house is unfinished except for the cells and chains. While Crenshaw legally owned several hundred slaves who lived away from the main house, he was also active in the reverse Underground Railroad, kidnapping free blacks and runaway slaves and sending them back to the South. These poor men and women were snuck into the house at night through a hidden doorway and held on the third floor until they could be sent south.

While I was always a little disturbed by the museum’s collection of slave photographs, and definitely freaked out by the main house’s third floor, I enjoyed visiting the museum. Textbooks tell a very cut-and-dry story about slavery in the U.S.; there were slave states and free states. The Old Slave House, however, tells a more complicated tale, one I believe is important to know and understand. Recently, though, the museum has been closed to the public while its future remains undecided.

Sign at Entrance to Crenshaw House Property

The house was owned by a private family, and they kept the museum running for several years. In the 1990s, it was sold to the state of Illinois and, for budget reasons, the museum was closed. It was even rumored that the house was scheduled to be torn down. Thankfully, local opinion and outrage saved the Old Slave House. The current state of the museum brings up questions about who should pay to keep historic sites in operation. Should the state foot the bill or should private donations be the sole source of funding? There is not an easy answer to this question, but I do hope that, for the Old Slave House and similar sites, a resolution can be found.

Giving Lip Service to Preservation

by Melissa Burns-

Living in Southwestern Illinois, you find Cahokia Mounds almost in your backyard. Growing up, I, like everyone else, took the requisite school field trips and learned about the people who once lived there. I was fascinated by its size and scope and how it once rivaled  cities like London, Paris, or Mexico City in its influence. Now, working in the tourism industry, I give directions and encourage people to go see the mounds. I sometimes wonder, though, how much we really think about Cahokia Mounds or work to preserve them.

Monk's Mound

The first thing that always stands out to me when I visit Cahokia Mounds is not the number of mounds or the impressive height of Monk’s Mound, but the billboards that have been placed right in the heart of the site and the highway that cuts it in half. I am always amazed that such a wonderfully historic place as Cahokia Mounds has been so recklessly treated. Of course, one could make the argument that the mounds are available to everyone at no charge, and some trade-offs are therefore to be expected. After all, commerce and expansion do have a way of making themselves known in even the least likely of places. But even this open availability has become limited recently. With the budget crisis that the state of Illinois is in, the hours and days that the Cahokia Mounds Interpretive Center is open to the public has been drastically cut for the majority of the year.  The question I have to ask, then, is are we truly trying to preserve Cahokia Mounds and, if we are, what is going wrong with that attempt?

Artist's sketch of Big Mound in St. Louis, shortly before it was demolished

Not long ago, I read an article in National Geographic titled “America’s Forgotten City.”  Written by former magazine staffer Glenn Hodges, who had only recently learned of the mounds existence, the story gave me a new perspective on something that we take largely for granted. Hodges’ opinion was that, as a site of Native American history, Cahokia Mounds has fallen victim to the long tradition of American disdain and ambivalence toward Indian culture.  According to this theory, the mounds’ historical significance went against the prevailing eighteenth and nineteenth-century opinion that Native Americans were savage peoples who were incapable of living a “modern” or “civilized” existence. An Indian city was simply too much for Americans to comprehend. As such, farmers in Illinois and city planners in Missouri demolished the mounds with careless abandon, finding them either a nuisance in the middle of a cornfield or more valuable as fill dirt in the city.  This is an intriguing hypothesis, and, while I am not sure if I am totally sold that this is the exact answer, I do think that it provides some interesting insight.

Loaf Mound, St. Louis's final standing mound

When it comes to Cahokia Mounds, or any historical site, what preservation ultimately comes down to is personal involvement. Local or national politics will always have an agenda, one which usually runs counter to the best interests of history in favor of more immediate financial goals.  It is up to us to actively engage with history and show its importance, whether you are the teacher who leads the fieldtrip, the hotel clerk who gives suggestions to tourists, or, as featured in the National Geographic article, a local man who takes it upon himself to care for and maintain a neighborhood historical marker.

Civil War Cell Phones? Reenactments at SIUE’s Sesquicentennial Celebration

by Christina Carlson-

Sitting in a tent with the wind whipping around the edges of its white canvas, I watch a man in an immaculate 19th century wool uniform carefully tie up paper gun cartridges with twine. As he works, the man explains the way the cartridges are made and why he believes it is important to make them that way. Suddenly, a cheery jingle fills the tent and the man reaches in his pocket, pulling out a cellular phone. “I invented that last night,” he says jokingly, then turns off the phone and continues working on the cartridges. Thus begins my first experience with Civil War reenactors.

Photo by Laura Fowler

Our class has covered the topic of reenactments and their relationship to public history before, but I wanted to convey my own personal experience observing and interacting with Civil War reenactors this weekend on the campus of SIUE. Although I was not working directly with the reenactors at the sesquicentennial events, I did find time to wander around their bivouac site. Aside from the slightly humorous incident with the ringing cell phone, I encountered several other parts of the encampment that seemed slightly contradictory. As Jeremy talked about in his recent post, many reenactors, perhaps particularly Civil War reenactors, tend to focus on the details of their uniform, weapon, and aspects of camp life. Yet, even as a “captain” in the sesquicentennial group talked about how accurately the cannon they fired was to the original, the group did not fire actual cannon balls; the noise and smoke were caused by gun powder wrapped in aluminum foil. In another instance, a “nurse” had bandages that she noted were very close to what civil war-era surgeons would have used, but a plastic bottled labeled “fake blood” was in plain view beside the bandages.

Photo by Laura Fowler

Inconsistencies such as this are quite revealing when it comes to reenactment as a whole. As has been noted before, although reenactors strive for accuracy in many aspects they can never truly reach back into another time or situation. After all, they do not shoot real cannons, or bleed real blood. In general, reenactment does not attempt to address larger historical questions, even as it attempts to convey a sense of authority about a certain historical time and situation.

Photo by Laura Fowler

Despite the shortcomings of reenactment as a form of public history, does it hold some value for public historians? I saw many people at the sesquicentennial events become excited about history and its possibilities. Both children and adults were enthralled with the working of an “actual” Civil War encampment in a way that is not always present in a more formal historical setting. Although I have often shied away from reenacting–as I see it as a form of history which generally does not address the larger themes of historical discourse–I now wonder if it cannot have some place in public history. Perhaps if we as public historians attempt to connect the finite details of camp life, military drills, and bandages to larger themes, reenactments could serve as an important link between the public and important historical questions. In this environment, discrepancies such as ringing cell phones could serve us and the public we address quite well. We could make the point that, although they did not have our modern technology, people in a certain time period were much like ourselves. It is this attempt to understand the humanity behind history that makes it worthwhile as a study at all.

Celebrating Personal History

by Melissa Burns-

As Americans, we all know that our families originated somewhere else. At one point in time our relatives immigrated here from places across the globe. The farther removed we are from those immigrant relatives, the more difficult it is to remember just where our roots are. Some people do not really seem to care where there families came from, and there are others who would like to know but do not have the time or resources to find out. This, I think, is sad, because knowing your family’s history can tell you a lot about yourself and open up a whole new world of friends and relatives that you never knew existed.

Men taking part in the Tartan Day Parade

I am fortunate enough to have an aunt who spent a great deal of time researching our family tree. She has traced the family’s roots to Scotland, where my grandma’s side goes back to Clan MacBean and my grandpa’s family is from Clan MacLeod of Lewis.  My husband’s family has also been traced to Scotland.  There, Clan Burns was fairly small and eventually became incorporated as a sept, a family giving allegiance to another, of Clan Campbell.  I do not know the specific villages that my family came from, but I do know the regions of Scotland where they originated.  I hope very much to be able to visit them one day.

March of a Scottish Pipe Band

My family, and especially my mom, is very proud of our Scottish heritage. Growing up, there was always a lot of bagpipe and celtic music playing, and we love traditional Scottish food, like shepherd’s pie, scotch eggs, and pasties. My brother also likes to eat haggis, but I have never gotten over the idea of it long enough to like it. We also like to show our heritage by wearing our clan’s tartan. Every clan has multiple tartans. There are ancient and modern versions, as well as ones for casual and formal wear. The one that my family likes to wear is commonly known as the Loud MacLeod because it is has a bright yellow background with a red and black pattern. My mom and brother both have kilts in this tartan, while I have a tam, a traditional, almost beret-like hat.  There is absolutely no mistaking who you are when you wear the Loud MacLeod tartan. As of yet, I do not have anything with the Clan Campbell tartan, which is also known as the Black Watch tartan, but I have been keeping my eyes open.

Caber toss in the Highland Games

Visiting with members of the Lincoln Place Heritage Group a couple of weeks ago reminded me of the importance of remaining connected with your heritage.  This is the exact reason why my family goes to the St. Louis Scottish Festival each year.  We were also able to go to Tartan Days in St. Charles this year for the first time.  The fests are always great fun. There is plenty of good, traditional Scottish food, traditional and modern Celtic music and dancing, and the Highland Games are never boring. I will never cease to be amazed at how someone can toss a caber!  Each year we see the same people at the festivals, and we have met other members of Clan MacLeod who are beginning to feel like an extended family. These relationships are a prime example of why maintaining our heritage is so important.  I will always believe that knowing your past is a fantastic way to enrich your future.

The Wildey Theatre

by Diana Yost-

This coming fall will mark my eighth year living in the Edwardsville area. One aspect of the region that I have enjoyed since the beginning of my time here is the historic Main Street in downtown Edwardsville. Having grown up in a small town, I was immediately drawn to it because of its nostalgia and small town feel. I love the architecture of the buildings and, more importantly, that they are almost all still functioning buildings, housing restaurants and businesses alike. As a huge supporter of historic preservation, I was so excited to find a historic downtown that seemed to be thriving!

However, there is one building in particular that caught my attention that was not being utilized–the old Wildey Theatre.  With its noticeable marquee and beautiful brick design, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to it?  After doing some research, I discovered that the theatre was built in 1909, and was designed to house board meetings and acted as a community center for the area. Vaudeville shows flourished in the beginning, with the theatre displaying a variety of singing, dancing, juggling, magic, and even comedy shows. The theatre then moved on to showcase silent films and eventually “talkies,” including the famous movie “The Jazz Singer.” Over time, the theatre lost funding and eventually closed its doors in 1984. In 1999, the City of Edwardsville purchased the property in hopes of renovating it.

Over the past seven-plus years of being in the area, I have heard several rumors of it being either being closed for good or that it will be reopened soon. Well, the day has finally come–the Wildey Theatre had its grand re-opening on April 12! I had the opportunity to attend one of the movies they were showing during opening week, “Singing in the Rain,” and was thrilled to finally be able to go inside the theatre that has mysteriously sat vacant for so long. The newly remodeled building has done an excellent job at preserving the integrity of the art-deco style architecture while also upgrading the facilities with modern technologies. There is even a functioning ticket booth outside of the theatre, just like there used to be.  The Wildey Theatre plans on contributing to the community by not only showing movies, but also inviting students from Edwardsville High School and SIUE to perform there as well as other local entertainment. The Wildey Theatre is a piece of living history, and hopefully it will receive the support it needs to maintain its presence in the Edwardsville community.

Learning History Through Art

by Diana Yost-

Over the course of the semester, our class has ventured into several different realms of public history, from podcasts to documentary films.  One sphere of public history that we didn’t have a chance to cover in this course is that of art museums. As an undergraduate, I dedicated a great deal of my time to studying art history as well as studio art, and even though I am obtaining my Master’s degree in Historical Studies, the influence of art is still in the foreground of my thoughts.

I have unfortunately heard some of my classmates say you can’t learn as much from visiting an art museum as you can in a history or science museum. I could not disagree more! There is so much more to an art museum than looking at oil paintings and thousand-year-old clay pots. Art museums are an excellent way for the public to understand cultures of the past because they display pieces of art that are not only worthy of technical artistic talent but also because they are infused with meaning from that time.

Tomb at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York is a perfect example of history (even if it’s not technically a history museum!) Inside the museum visitors, can walk through a real Egyptian tomb, or an abbey of a medieval church, or even the living room of a Frank Lloyd Wright house. These visual and physical experiences engage the visitors with the objects, allowing them to feel like they are actually in that time period.  This is a way the museum brings history to life; instead of reading what it’s like, visitors get to experience it first hand.

Another example can be found in our own backyard at the Saint Louis Art Museum (SLAM).  While there is not an ancient palace room to walk into, SLAM’s current special exhibit, entitled Fiery Pool: The Maya and the Mythic Sea, teaches the history of the Mayan culture through art and artifacts. For instance, visitors learn that the ancient Mayans believed that water, and therefore rain and the ocean, was the source of life, and they illustrate the symbolic power that they believed water had on the objects they used in day to day life. Through this exhibit, the museum offers the public an insight into an ancient culture by means of connecting everyday objects and ornamentation to their belief in life-giving water.

While art museums are sometimes clustered into their own category of fine arts, I believe they are an integral part of public history. They provide the public with a different perspective on history by telling a story through art and material culture.  While art museums are a great resource on artists and artistic styles, they are also another avenue to explore history.