A few snippets of Harvey D. Little’s poetry

Harvey D. Little (1803-1833) was a poet and newspaper man in the Columbus, Ohio, area. He was married to Mary Howard (1809-1891), daughter of Horton Howard. (More biographical information on both of them can be found in the previous post. Or, read Coggeshall’s assessment of Harvey D. Little from The Poets and Poetry of the West (1860).)

I found some examples of Harvey’s poetry in the Forrer-Peirce-Wood Collection, and I just thought these were too cool not to share. (And I’m not even really a big poetry lover.)

I’ll post images and transcriptions. (Transcriptions were done by me.) To see the original handwritten poems, click on the images to view them larger on Flickr. (Also, notice the indentations in the originals; I typed them in, but they wouldn’t stay in the WordPress editor.)

All of these poems are from Sarah (Howard) Forrer‘s Album of “Original and Selected Pieces” of Poetry & Miscellany (Box 5, Folder 5), Forrer-Peirce-Wood Collection (MS-018), Dayton Metro Library (Dayton, Ohio).

Without further ado, here are the poems:

*****

This first one, Harvey wrote for his sister-in-law Sarah (Howard) Forrer, shortly after her marriage (1826) and the birth of her first child (Elizabeth, in 1827). I believe this poem was written in Harvey’s own handwriting, based on a few of his letters (also in the collection).

“To Mrs. Sarah H. Forrer” (1828)
By Harvey D. Little

I saw thee in thy maiden prime.– The rose of youth
Was freshly blooming on thy polish’d cheek,
Whose smile of innocence, and shades of meek
Expression mingled.– Even peerless Truth,
Was scarce more lovely in her pristine state.
Thou seem’d to us, some Peri from above,
That but to look on was to praise and love;–
Such was thy being,– such our changless fate.

Again I saw thee– when the bridal crown
Was gaily shining on thy polish’d brow,
And thy soft lips had breath’d the sacred vow,
That gave thee to another.– There stole down,
Thy cheek, a tear,– but not of sorrow,– no!
Affection’s fount was full to overflowing,
Thy heart’s warm rapture could not hide its glowing:
Thou didst not dream, for once, of future woe.

And yet again I saw thee.– Thy rich charms
Were heighten’d by a more majestic grace:
A lovely infant smil’d upon thy face,
As it lay fondling in thy guardian arms.
A mother’s hopes were in thy bosom; and her fears
Sometimes o’ershadow’d them,– as sombre care
Can cast a chill on all that’s bright and fear!–
Mayst thou ne’er have a real cause for tears!

Harvey D. Little
Columbus, Sept. 8th, 1828

To Mrs. Sarah H. Forrer, pg. 1 of 2

.

Having the benefit of 150+ years of hindsight, I can’t help but be saddened a bit by the poem’s final line: “Mayst thou ne’er have a real cause for tears!” Sarah would outlive that baby by 13 years; she would lose two more children as children (her first son at age 8; a daughter at 1.5); she would lose her second (and by then only) son, as well as a son-in-law, within weeks of each other during the Civil War. Not to mention all the sorrow that befell the Howard/Little family in the years 1833-1834…

*****

I think the handwriting on this one may be Sarah’s. It’s a little hard to tell.

“Twilight Hour” (undated)
By Harvey D. Little

Twilight hour in month gray,
Herald of departing day,
Form’d by him who made the sun,
Ere creations work was done–
Oh! how dear thou art to me!
Clothed in vestal purity.

Twilight hour! thy pensiveness
Sooths my bosoms deep distress
Lulls to sleep each sordid woe,–
Gives to hope a brighter glow.–
Makes each passing scene appear
Far more pleasing, far more dear.

Twilight hour thy charms impart
A mournful sweetness to the heart,
By recalling smiles and tears,
Joys and griefs of far fled years:
Years that swiftly past away,
Joys that hastened to decay.

Twilight hour! in coming days,
Other bards may sing thy praise,
Love thy pensive charms which I
In the grassy tomb shall lie.
Far from sorrow far from pain
Far from every earthly stain.

There the storms of life are o’er–
There the wretched weep no more–
While the spirit wings its flight
To a world of endless light
Where bright orbs have ever shown
And in twilight hour is known.

Twilight Hour, pg. 1 of 2

.

Twilight Hour, pg. 2 of 2

I just love this one; it has a good rhythm, and I admit, I’ve always preferred poems that rhyme. In a way, it’s almost eerie, knowing as I do that within a few short years of writing it, the poet himself “In the grassy tomb shall lie. / Far from sorrow far from pain / Far from every earthly stain.” Harvey was taken by cholera in 1833 at the age of 30.

*****

This last poem I want to share is signed “M. Little,” which I’m pretty sure is Harvey’s wife Mary (Howard) Little. It doesn’t say “by” M. Little, but I can’t find this poem anywhere. So I’m not sure whether Mary wrote it herself or if it was simply one that she liked and requested to copy it into Sarah’s album. I believe the original handwriting is Mary’s, based on other examples and letters written by Mary.

Untitled (undated)
[Author not specified]

Cling to the world in rosy health,
And drink its sweet alluring pleasures
Bow at the golden shrine of wealth,
And worship time’s deceitful treasures.
But know the hour of pain will come
And sickness bring its cloud of sorrow,
To wrap in gloom our happy home,
And quench the sunlight of tomorrow.

Twine ye the green bay wreath of joy
And bind it on the brow of gladness,
And let no warning voice alloy,
No whispering spirit breathe of sadness.
For full should be his need of bliss,
Where hold on time so soon must sever:
Who wins no other world but this,
And with it loses all forever.

Pale sickness with its train of woes
Misfortunes, penury, and grief
The mournful fate which autumn throws
Ov’er the sere and faded leaf,
The good man’s doom on earth may be,
And he may struggle long with fate,
But sweet’s the rest his soul shall see,
When worlds lie wreck’d and desolate.

M. Little

Untitled poem

Another somewhat gloomy poem, but again, I like it. It’s undated, so I have to wonder whether Mary copied this poem down before or after all the sadness that befell her little – er, Little – family.

“But know the hour of pain will come / And sickness bring its cloud of sorrow, / To wrap in gloom our happy home, / And quench the sunlight of tomorrow.”

In the summer of 1833, Mary lost her husband, two children, and both her parents in a cholera epidemic; the following spring, she lost her remaining two children to scarlet fever. She would eventually marry again and have 4 more children (one of whom died in the Civil War, but the other 3 grew to old age). I’m sure there were plenty of happy times in her life, too, but when I think of Mary (Howard) Little Affleck, I remember a woman who endured many, many sorrows.

*****

I hope you enjoyed the poems! I know I did.

Hidden mothers, post-mortem, and 1940s Italian-Americans

(Now there’s a weird blog title for ya; how the heck do those things fit together? Well, read on, my friend, and I’ll tell you what I’m getting at…)

A day or two ago, a friend of mine posted a link to a blog post she’d found about “Hidden mothers in Victorian portraits” (and its follow-up, “More hidden mothers in Victorian photography: post-mortem photographs or not?”) by Chelsea Nichols.

I found these posts ridiculously interesting (ha, play on words of the blog title) for a variety of reasons.

For one thing, they are quite visually interesting, as they include a lot of photographs to illustrate the subject of the posts: mothers (or whoever) hiding under blankets, curtains, etc., to hold children steady in Victorian-era portraits. Remember, back in Ye Olde Dayes, the process of capturing a photograph was not instantaneous; so you had to hold still until the exposure was finished. Not so easy to get little ones to do this; hence, the mothers in the pictures.

Another reason the subject piqued my interest is that it reminded me of a couple of similar photographs that I have seen before. (Oh, that archivist brain : always pulling things up from the back-files of my mind…)

One of the photos I thought of actually fits the description of what’s being discussed — well, sans blanket:

Howard Forrer Peirce (and his mother?), from Oversize Photo #1924 by Dayton Metro Library Local History, on Flickr

That’s Howard Forrer Peirce (born 1865) and, presumably, his mother. If it was meant to be a photo of the two of them, it’s not very good, since mom is mostly hidden (much to my chagrin, as an archivist, since that’s the only pic we have of her! –if it is indeed his mother, which I’m pretty sure it is, based on what her sisters looked like!–). So I suppose it is probably a situation of trying to get the boy to cooperate and/or hold him still while the photo was exposed.

The other photo that came to mind is actually a lot more similar to the photos in the posts. But it is not from the Victorian era; it’s from the early 1940s:

Baby and hidden mother, ca. 1941

The baby in this photo is one of my aunts, and the person under the sheet is, more than likely, my grandmother. At first I wasn’t totally sure if therewassomeone under the sheet, or if they just draped it over a chair as a backdrop, but then I noticed how the sheet seems to be “holding” the baby, under the arms…so there must be a person under there.

But why? Why in the 1940s? Presumably, they were using a camera that was capable of taking an instantaneous photograph. So I guess they must have just thought it would be a fun thing to do, stylistically. (Unfortunately, anyone who would have been around — and old enough to know what was going on — the day the photo was taken…is now deceased, so I can’t ask them.)

Then, there’s one more thing I want to mention. When I was first thinking about writing this post, all I was thinking about was the “hidden mother” pictures I had seen.

But then I got to thinking: This is the second Victorian photography trend I have seen duplicated by my Italian-American ancestors in the 1940s. That’s…interesting.

Remember the post-mortem photographs I found in my grandfather’s photographs?

Now, before I go any further with my thoughts and wonderments, let me just say that I realize it would be bad science, and bad history, and just bad in general, to pretend like I could make any gross generalizations about an entire group of people or a practice, based on a handful of isolated examples.

But…it’s not going to stop me from wondering if this could, in fact, illustrate some sort of a legitimate historical trend.

Sometimes, we see something that looks cool — e.g., in photography — and we seek to replicate it, simply for the sake of “art”, without regard for the rhyme or reason behind why the thing we are replicating may have happened or been done out of necessity in the original work.

For instance, why is everyone obsessed with Instagram? Don’t they know that the original “retro” photos they are seeking to replicate look all yellow and weird because of the subpar photographic processes of the 1970s? No, they just think it looks cool, so they take a perfectly good (new) digital photo and intentionally make it look degraded…for the sake of “art”.

Similarly, I wonder if my grandparents saw older photographs of babies being held by mothers under sheets and thought, “Hey, that is a neat way to photograph a baby; let’s replicate that.” Maybe they didn’t realize why the mothers had to hold the babies (although I’m still not sure why they had to hide); or maybe it didn’t matter either way, but they just wanted to create something “retro” (before “retro” was cool — or even a term!).

Same thing with the post-mortem photos my grandfather took of his parents. People used to do that (especially in the Victorian era) because taking photogrpahs was less common then, and the deceased person might never have been photographed before, thus making the post-mortem photo your “last chance” to capture their likeness in photographic form. I wonder if my grandpa had seen some of those type of photographs and just thought, “Hey, I should do that,” when his parents died. I have seen several photographs of my grandfather’s parents — when they were alive — so I know such photos existed and were in his possession; it’s not like he had no others.

And here’s where my stab at bad history comes in:  If they were taking those pictures because they wanted to replicate others they had seen, I wonder if socio-economics had anything to do with it all.

Now, just stick with me a minute here.

The Italian immigrants of the early 1900s (like my ancestors) tended to be poorer (at least initially) than many other Americans. Being not-so-well-off (which in many cases is a great understatement) is probably why most of them left all they’d even known and came to great Land of Opportunity in the first place.

And okay, so, people (and dare I say “civilizations”) that are lagging a bit behind in a variety of areas, like technology, might tend not to have the latest-and-greatest advancements — especially since a lot of those were being churned out in the United States back then, not in backhills of northern Italy, where my relatives were from.

I wonder: did the photographers in rural Tuscany still use photographic processes that required holding still for a long time, later than most American photographers? Might my grandfather, who lived in Italy until the mid-1930s, have seen a lot more of those “hidden mother” photographs than most young men in the 1940s had?

And, as for the post-mortem photos : if things were “worse” in Italy in the early 1900s than they were in America — after all, Italians came to the USA to find work and a “better life,” not vice versa — wouldn’t that likely include people being generally poorer? And when you’re poor, what can you not afford? Well, probably “luxuries” like owning a camera or visiting a professional photographer more than every great once in a while. So it makes me wonder if those “last chance” post-mortem photographs might have been more common, up through a later date (year), in places with a greater concentration of poor people.

We typically associate these styles of photographs — the “hidden mother” and the post-mortem – with the Victorian era in America. But consider that poorer communities (such as, in my example, early-1900s rural Italy) might have still had some of the same issues (older technology that required standing still for photos; greater likelihood that the deceased had never been photographed because it was too expensive to take photos willy-nilly like we do today) that were the root causes of those “odd” styles of Victorian photos.

And if we sometimes mimic what we know, what we’ve seen, what our friends and relatives are doing or have done or did in the pretty recent past, I can imagine how it might have happened that my Italian-American grandparents ended up essentially duplicating some things that were popular (in America) decades before they themselves were even actually born. (Meanwhile, I’ve never seen such things in the collections of American-born people from the same era.)

Like I said, this is completely unscientific and not good history either. But it was a thing that made me go, “Huh, that’s weird.” So I thought I’d just wonder out loud.

Has anyone else seen any “hidden mother” or post-mortem photos from the 1940s?

99 Years of Dayton Photographers

How does anyone ever have an original idea anymore? Obviously, some people manage to do so, because new things still keep coming along. And yet, it seems like most of the time, whenever I think, “There really oughtta be X,” there already is X, and I just hadn’t found it yet.

A recent example of this phenomenon occurred to me recently, with regard to an historical listing of Dayton photographers.

For the past few months, I have been processing the Thresher-McCann manuscript collection. In addition to loose papers and scrapbooks, the collection includes 260 (yes, exactly 260 – I just finished numbering them yesterday) photographs, the majority of which are unidentified. From the very few identified ones, I have been able to “tentatively” identify some of the people in others. (I have become pretty adept at recognizing Mary and Laura Thresher, but that’s about it. I don’t know the rest of the people from Adam. Well, okay, unless it’s woman; then I don’t know her from Eve.)

However, many of the photographs have the photographer’s name, city, and sometimes street address printed on them somewhere.

Sometimes on the front:

Appleton and Hollinger (Dayton, Ohio) (ms036_0045)

.

Grossman and Owings (Dayton, Ohio) (ms036_0047)

.

Bowersox (Dayton, Ohio) (ms036_0046)

Sometimes on the back:

A. Yount (Dayton, Ohio) (ms036_0176)

.

Roger’s Portraits (Dayton, Ohio) (ms036_0048)

.

M. Wolfe (Dayton, Ohio) (ms036_0049)

And sometimes, the photorapher’s name is not even on the portrait, per se, but is written on one of those horribly acidic, construction-paper-feeling folders that old photographs are often stored in. (So if the photo came in a yucky folder or envelope, check for — and record — any useful info before casting that awful thing aside!)

I’ve actually elected to organize the unidentified photographs according to state, city, and photographer’s name, because it seemed like the most logical way to hopefully get photographs that originally went together, to remain together, not knowing who any of the people are.

As archivists know, one of the tasks in describing materials is to (hopefully) identify the date(s) of the materials, either from a given date (woohoo! I love when things are already dated!) or to make an educated guess if possible (which you would either put in brackets and/or add some relative words — e.g., circa, about, approximately, before, after, etc.).

So, putting those last two paragraphs together, you get the thought that kept going through my mind : Man, it would be awesome if I had an index to Dayton photographers, where I could look up the photographer’s name alphabetically and get the listings (hopefully with the different addresses of their various studios over the years), along with the dates when they operated at each location —- which could then be used to establish an approximate time frame for the photograph(s) in question.

Once I finished organizing the photographs, I finally got around to checking the library catalog to see whether we already owned such a book. Failing that, I was going to ask around to my co-workers and Dayton archives colleagues, to find out whether such a thing existed (and maybe Dayton library just didn’t have it for some reason). And failing THAT, I was prepared to roll up my sleeves, cozy up with the Dayton city directories, and produce the thing myself.

Well, lo and behold — the thing does already exist. Of course. Ha!  I’m not sorry that someone has already done all that work for me; it’s just another one of those things — it figures that this awesome idea was already had by someone — apparently Richard D. Fullerton…before I was even born. Ha!

The index I am referring to is 99 Years of Dayton Photographers (1982) by Richard D. Fullerton.

We have several copies of the book at the Dayton Metro Library — unfortunately for you who may wish to borrow it, they are all non-circulating, so you’ll have to use it in the library (all copies live at Main) [but some other local libraries have it too] — so I retrieved one and set about trying to narrow down a time frame for some of the undated Dayton photographs (such as those above).

The book has a helpful introduction. Fullerton lists the sources that he used (including city directories, census records, photographs themselves, and others), and he also cites those sources throughout the book, to tell where he got a particular piece of information about a name, date, or location.

Fullerton also gives information in the introduction about the approximate years of use for different kinds of photographs, also identifying the photo process’s hey day, which can help with dating photographs as well.

Having archival training and a copy of Ritzenthaler & Vogt-O’Connor’s photo preservation book, aka my photo archives Bible, I already had a pretty good idea of those approximate time periods. But, it was a great idea to include them, since some photographers worked for many years in Dayton (*cough*Bowersox*cough*), and so simply having the dates of the shop didn’t narrow it down much.

Between knowing which types of photographs were popular when, and having access to Fullerton’s book, I was able to established somewhat more useful dates — okay, anything is more useful than “Undated” — for the Dayton imprint photographs. Now, unfortunately, most of the unidentified photos in the collection weren’t actually made in Dayton, so Fullerton’s book can’t help me with those.

I don’t suppose anyone knows of a book like this for Cincinnati?

In any event, I am pleased that I found the Fullerton book. It definitely saved me a lot of work. (Now, don’t get me wrong, a bunch of completely unidentified photographs don’t usually warrant searching all those city directories just to get a slightly-more-useful-than-”undated” date that I can stick in a finding aid. I mean all the work that I would have done creating an index of long-lasting usefulness — like Fullerton did!)

One more thing : Even having those narrower dates isn’t necessarily all that helpful to me, someone who doesn’t know the names or the faces of the unidentified people. I think it would be a lot more useful to genealogists — if you have a photo, and you know who it is, but you’re wondering, “How old is great-great-grandma in this picture?” Or, “Could that be Great-Uncle James? Was he even still alive then?” Or….you get the idea. But hey, sometimes having a place and an approximate date and a location could narrow down the other unknowns quite a lot for you, depending on how your family history played out.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this little jaunt into one of my “there should really be…if there’s not, I’m so going to…oh wait, there already is…okay, good…using that now” moments.

Save your digital photos, Part 2: How I do it

In Part 1 of “Save your digital photos,” I listed a number of reasons why you should be backing up your digital photos.

And I mentioned LOCKSS, which I will reiterate and emphasize again here, is the TLDNR take-away message I want you to get from both Parts 1 and 2. If you read or remember nothing else, please just always remember this rule of thumb in regards to your digital files, and (assuming you follow it) you should be good to go:

LOCKSS = Lots of copies keeps stuff safe.

Also in Part 1, I mentioned this OHS blog post with “Tips for Saving Your Digital Photographs”. My own personal digital photo preservation routine seems to fall within the parameters they recommend, so I thought maybe I would share the specifics of it here, to give an idea of what a home user might do to ensure that their digital photogrpahs will both exist, and be accessible, for a long time.

*****

And now, for some minutiae.

The following are the details of my own personal digital preservation regimen. (So, to be clear, this is what I do at home, not in my professional capacity as an archivist at the library.)

My way is certainly not the only solution or even necessarily the best. But I feel that it has served me well in the past. I can confidently say, “If my laptop died tomorrow, I really wouldn’t be that upset about it, because I know all my stuff is safely stored in multiple places.”

*****

Here is what I do, roughly broken down into steps:

Step 1: Download the photos.

At least once a month (I have a reminder set), I download the photos from my smart phone and my digital camera onto my computer’s hard drive. I usually leave the photos on the camera’s memory card, also, for about a month. For instance, at the end of May, I would copy all of May’s photos onto my hard drive, leave the a copy of the May photos on the camera, and delete the April photos still left on the camera. I usually dump this month’s photos into a virtual holding tank, a folder called (creatively enough) “New Pics,” until I am ready to organize them. (Don’t worry; I do the organizing pretty soon after the data dump. But I usually have to collect the images from two cameras and an iPhone before I start organizing, to make sure I have everything.)

Why do Step 1? Copying your photos from your camera devices onto your hard drive gives you a second copy of them and protects you from losing the photos if you lose your camera or phone. (I know some cell phones have “cloud” backup, but I bet your digital camera probably doesn’t.) However, this only works until the memory in your camera or phone fills up. You will need a more long-term solution (see Step 4+), also, but this is good for starters.

Step 2: Create & utilize named folders.

I have folders for each month (e.g., “2011-10 Oct”), with descriptively named folders for each event in that month. I usually use the ISO 8601 date and then a descriptive name, such as: “2011-12-25 Christmas.” If I have random pictures (no particular event), I just toss them into the appropriate month’s folder.

Why do Step 2? It’s easy to accumulate a lot of digital photos (since they are cheap and easy to create!), and they can become a jumbled, unmanageable mess pretty easily. Also, if you have photos from the same event but different cameras, the potentially different sequential file naming schemes might not keep them next to each other in your “All My Photos Ever” folder. Step 2 does not technically do anything to help preserve the images themselves, but it will help preserve the meaning of the photos. (Ever found a bunch of old photos and thought, “Gee, I wonder what was going on here?” or “Grandma looks so young; I wonder what year this was?” Yeah, thought so.)

Step 2b: Cull the collection.

Once you’ve got all the photos from a certain event in front of you, take a few minutes to delete any you don’t need or want. Delete pocket shots (the camera equivalent of “butt dialing“). At least consider deleting blurry ones and ones with really unfortunate facial expressions. If you have several shots that are nearly identical, consider choosing the best one and deleting the rest.

You could do this culling after Step 1 (file download) or after Step 3 (filenaming), but I think it makes the most sense after you’ve filed by event (so you can see everything together) but before you go to all the trouble of renaming everything.

Why do Step 2b? There are two good reasons to do this: #1 digital storage is pretty cheap these days, but it’s still not free; and #2 you won’t have to wonder “now which 2011 family Christmas photo did I decide was the best one?” every time you want it. (If you really want to keep all the shots even though it looks like a flipbook, you could mark the best one as “BEST” (so creative, I know) when filenaming (see step 3), but that doesn’t help you save storage space.)

A word of caution about Step 2b: On the flip side, don’t delete photos you actually want just to save space, unless you are really desperate. My husband fully supports my mass proliferation of photographs, reminding me: storage space is cheap.  So, if you really want it, find a way to keep it. (You can buy more CDs or a bigger hard drive; but once those photos are gone, they’re gone.)

Step 3: Create meaningful file names.

I change the generic photo filenames assigned by the camera to something more descriptive, which helps me find the image I want without having to look at every file. Again, I like the ISO 8601 date, the event, then the generically assigned file name (most cameras use a sequential numbering system so this keeps the photos in chronological order), and then sometimes info about the subject. For example: “2011-12-25 Christmas IMG_0099 opening gifts.jpg” or “2011-12-25 Christmas IMG_0100 Lisa Matt.jpg.” (Note: You should try to keep the file names short, because some operating systems have trouble with longer file names. I am not always good about keeping things short — you’ve read my blog, right? — so I am guilty of not doing this. But I still thought I ought to mention it.)

Meaningful folder and file names

*****

Okay, so you’ve got your photos from all your digital devices (go you!); you’ve organized them in relevant folders and given them meaningful filenames (woohoo!). Now, you want to make sure all that hard work doesn’t go to waste. You need to protect those image files against the many ways they can be lost (see Part 1).

If all else fails, remember LOCKSS: Lots of copies keeps stuff safe.

Step 4: Do regular external backups.

When I say “regular,” I mean pretty often. I do my backup of photos (as well as other files) once a week (another reminder is set).

And when I say “external,” I mean to another physical location besides your the hard drive to which you downloaded the photos in Step 1. I mean, create a regularly-updated second copy of your stuff somewhere. That “somewhere” could be an external hard drive, CDs, DVDs, cloud storage, USB drives, etc.

Personally, I don’t recommend CDs, DVDs, or USB drives (and do I even need to address floppy disks?) because they can go bad over time, and you have to remember to check them periodically (and possibly refresh them – which means, making copies on new disks/media to replace the old ones). I recommend using an external hard drive of some sort, because if you keep using the same drive every time to backup things, you will realize immediately when it goes bad because you are accessing it every week to make those backups. If you put your photos on a CD and throw it in a drawer, thinking, “Okay, there’s my backup for 2011,” then in a few years when your computer crashes, you might find that CD can’t be read anymore either. Then what? You just lost 2011′s photos.

By using a hard drive, which I will access frequently to make additional backups (thereby acting as a check to make sure it’s still working, without having to remember to check it for no other reason than checking it), I don’t have to remember the CDs (or DVDs or USB sticks or SD cards or whatever) that I stowed away years ago and hope they still work when I need them; or to remember to check them every 6-12 months or so.

Nevertheless, any backup media you choose to use is better than none at all. Because if you make any backup copies, there’s at least a chance they’ll still work when you need them. If you make no copies at all, I guarantee you will lose those photos when your computer/phone/camera dies.

In my case, I use an external hard drive system called a NAS — Network-Attached Storage — which has a two-disk RAID (redundant array of independent disks) configuration.

NAS (Network-Attached Storage)

Without getting too technical, this means that I can backup my files over our home network to this little box that has two identical hard drives in it (in our case, 1 terabyte each). Although the box technically contains 2 TB of space, you can only fill up one disk’s worth of space – in my case, 1 TB – because the second disk exists solely to backup the first. So, in this way, I actually have a double backup going on. If one of the two disks goes bad, I still have a backup.

Why do Step 4? You need an external second copy of your files in case your first copy gets lost, stolen, destroyed, corrupted, or otherwise killed in some way.

Step 5: Keep an off-site backup.

Now, if you opted to go with cloud storage for your Step 4, where your photos are backed up over the Internet, then you may not need to do Step 5 also. Theoretically, anyone with any business running a cloud storage service should have your files protected in multiple ways, and obviously this storage is off-site because it is stored on the company’s servers in who-knows-where. So, if you used cloud storage for Step 4, you are probably covered on Step 5 also.

I do use online storage for part of my Step 5. I have an account at Smugmug, where I am able to backup an unlimited number of photos for $40 per year. The site has lots of cool features (and no, they aren’t paying me to promote them), but I mostly got the account for backup purposes. However, I have since implemented another off-site backup solution, since the cost for restoring all my images from Smugmug would be pretty high.

As my other off-site backup solution, I have a second pair of external hard drives (in addition to the ones in the NAS). I keep one of the drives at my house at any given time and make weekly backups to it, just like I do the NAS. The other drive is at my parents’ house, 100+ miles away. Whenever I visit my parents (usually every few months), I swap the two hard drives.

One of my off-site backup solutions

Why do Step 5? Keeping an off-site backup gives you an additional layer of protection against more types of loss. Let’s say you do Steps 1-4, but your backup is stored at your house, along with your computer. What if someone steals your computer and your external hard drive? What if your home is destroyed by a fire or natural disaster? If it’s a house fire, then storing your off-site backup at a friend’s house nearby will save you, but what if it’s a major disaster such as a hurricane, earthquake, or flood? Odds are, if your friend’s house is in the same metro area, it will be affected also. Ideally, you would want your off-site storage several hundred miles away. This is another plus to cloud storage, because odds are, those servers are going to be hundreds of miles away from you and probably spread across many different locations.

My swap-a-hard-drive-at-Mom-and-Dad’s-house method is pretty good, but it might be a couple of months out-of-date. But at least I can get those last couple of months’ of picturse off of Smugmug. It’s a lot easier to copy the files from a hard drive than to get them back from the Internet either through download or ordering CDs (which would be expensive and I don’t even want to think about how many CDs I would need to order from them).

Step 6: Print out the pictures.

Any photos that I want to be accessible for many years, I have printed. Yes, this costs money. Do it anyway. I don’t recommend printing your photos at home; photo print services have better machines, processes, and inks. Just leave it to the pro’s. Personally, I use Shutterfly (and no they aren’t paying me), but there are many good ones.

Another plus to using an online photo printing site is that it can be an off-site backup, depending on how long the photos are stored there. You can order photo CDs if you need to. In fact, as I was fact-checking to write this, I learned that Shutterfly now has unlimited free photo storage; they didn’t used to, which was part of why I got Smugmug, among other things. Anyway, the point is: free online photo storage – with the option to order your photos on CDs (if you need them later) – does exist, so there’s really no good excuse not to do it. If you don’t have Internet access, go to the public library; furthermore, if you don’t have Internet access, how are you even reading this?

I like Shutterfly because the pictures look good, they aren’t too expensive ($0.15 per 4×6, currently), and (perhaps the biggest factor why I use them) they print the filename on the back. Remember all that filenaming you did? Yeah, here’s another way it pays off. Not necessarily having to rewrite all that again on the back of your prints. Although, you might want to write on them; that the pre-printed filename may rub off eventually. Without going off on a tangent about the best way to archivally label your photos, just please make sure your prints are labeled in some way (Step 6b) – or else you’ll still have the whole, “What was going on here and when?” scenario years later, if you don’t transfer the descriptions to the prints also.

Why do Step 6? For all the time I’ve spent developing and implementing my plan for how to keep my digital photos safe, I must admit, I still don’t 100% trust digital-only. I could write a whole separate blog entry about why that is, but suffice it to say that anything digital is always going to be technology-dependent, meaning you will need certain equipment and software in order to access it.

You know what’s not technology-dependent? Hard copy. That’s why you can still rummage through Grandma’s box of photos, even though the camera or even the negatives may be long gone. Back in the Day, the only option for enjoying your photos was to have prints made. And as long as those prints exist and you’ve got eyes to see, you’ll be able to enjoy them. You won’t be rooting around looking for a way to access that old hard drive or disk — assuming the media hasn’t gone bad — in 2050. You can just kick back with an album or box of pictures. Old School.

No special equipment required.

*****

Okay, I know that was very long and involved and full of details. Part of that is because I’m verbose. But part of that is because actually managing to effectively preserve your photo memories in this day and age is involved. You must make a conscious effort to do it. And for some people, simply telling them, “You need to backup your photos,” is not really all that helpful. So I thought perhaps sharing something a little more step-by-step might be helpful.

This post is an example of one possible plan for keeping your digital photos safe. There are many options. And, like I have said, the way described here (“my” way) is not the only way or even necessarily the best way. But I think I have all the major bases covered. I can say with some degree of confidence that if my laptop kicked the bucket tomorrow (again, knock on wood), all my photos are safe because they exist somewhere else (in some cases multiple somewheres). I would even go so far as to say that if my house burned to the ground with all my physical belongings inside (WAY knock on wood), I could replace all of my digital photos except maybe the last week’s worth.

So while some might call all of this “overkill,” I call it “peace of mind.”

Save your digital photos, Part 1: Why you need to do it

I can’t remember the last time I so much as held a film camera. I have been shooting all my photos with a digital camera for years now. I’d be willing to bet that many of the rest of you have been doing the same. It’s quick, easy, convenient, cheap (free even – after the initial cost of the camera – because you don’t have to pay to develop film, and prints are optional), etc. So go ahead, take 10 shots of that weird bug you found on your porch.

My favorite part of digital photography is the ability to take a photo, check it, and take it again if you don’t like it – no more disappointment when you get the film back; no more taking 3 shots “just in case” (and still maybe not getting a good one).

What’s not to love, right?

Well, from an archivist’s perspective: a lot.

To a certain extent, I think a lot of archival and historical material manages to survive “by accident.” Once something is committed to a tangible medium, such as paper (a printed photograph, a letter, a diary, a newspaper, or whatever), it is pretty much going to remain in existence (somewhere) until it is physically destroyed in some way (thrown away, burned, flooded, shredded, etc.). Even materials stored in horrid conditions still sometimes manage to survive and are perfectly usable after decades. (Remember that box of old photos you found in Grandma’s sweltering attic? Okay, not the best storage location, but by God, they were in that shoebox and still perfectly viewable. And hopefully you rescued them to a more appropriate storage spot, like a main floor closet. Right? RIGHT?!)

Now, don’t get me wrong, your digital photos are still perfectly susceptible to dying in a fire or any of those other things I described — whether it’s the camera itself, the media card, your hard drive, or your prints. But in my opinion, digital photos are actually more fragile than old-school film/print photographs, because it actually seems to take a lot more work to keep them safe.

With both regular film photos and digital photos, you have to snap the picture, and you have the option to make prints. If you make prints and keep them safe the same way you would your old came-from-a-film-negative prints, then you are reasonably good to go on that front, as far as preserving your memories. But with the digital photos, you have no film negative – so what if you want to make another print? You need the original digital photo. (You could make a copy from one of your prints—if you have any—but it wouldn’t be as good of quality because it’s really a copy of a copy; the digital is the original.)

So what should you do to protect those digital photos, to ensure that they will both exist, and be accessible to you, for a long time?

The Ohio Historical Society’s recent blog post “Tips for Saving Your Digital Photographs” (May 7, 2012) has lots of great general advice in regards to safeguarding your digital photographs. In addition to general tips on how and where to save your files, the post has advice about the best way to use CD-Rs as a backup method, file formats and naming, and making prints.

I am pleased to report that my personal practices in regards to digital photo preservation seem to fall within the recommendations made in that OHS blog post, so in Part 2, I will share the specific details of my digital photo preservation regimen.

But before I get into any minutiae, I want to drill one thing into your head. If you take nothing else away from this article, please, for the love of God, remember LOCKSS, an acronym meaning “Lots of Copies Keeps Stuff Safe.”

Golden Rule of Saving Digital Content: Remember LOCKSS = Lots of Copies Keeps Stuff Safe.

If you only have one copy of something, especially if that something is digital, I can almost guarantee you that at some point, you are going to lose it. It will not be a matter of “if” but a matter of “when” and “how.”

Ever had your hard drive or disk crash and just stop working with little or no warning? Had your computer zapped by lightning? Spilled a drink in your laptop? Had your computer get virus’d, hacked, or stolen? Lost your USB thumb drive? Had your camera or cell phone get lost or stolen? Dropped your camera or cell phone (perhaps into a body of water)? Left your electronics in the car on a hot day?

Yeah, that’s what I thought. Hey, you’re not alone. These things happen to the best of us. Now, the question is, the next time one of those things happens to you, how many of your precious memories will be lost along with your electronics?

Now that I’ve really got your attention, stay tuned for Part 2, and I’ll tell you exactly what I do to keep my photos safe from the disasters described above (and doubtless many that I can’t even think of right now).

Remembering the 1937 Flood

When I was a kid, I remember my grandparents and others of their generation talking about the 1937 flood that had affected our town, Portsmouth, Ohio.

1937 Flood in Portsmouth, Near Waller Street (note N&W Train Depot in back ground) (from my Grandpa P.'s collection)

As a child, I only thought about “the flood” as being in Portsmouth. It did not occur to me that if the Ohio River was flooded at Portsmouth, it was probably high everywhere else (or at least everywhere else downstream), by the very nature of rivers. But when I got older and more interested and did a little research on it — okay,  a lot of research (I wrote my 2005 history honors thesis on the 1937 flood) — I quickly learned that it was definitely not a localized incident but an extremely widespread disaster. It affected pretty much every community along the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers from Pittsburgh to New Orleans, breaking previous flood records in many of them.

For example, Portsmouth had long bragged that it was “flood-proof” thanks to a floodwall that would protect against a river height of 62 feet — which never quite made sense to me since the 1913 flood at Portsmouth reached over 68 feet. (So why brag about a 62-foot floodwall?) However, on January 27, the Ohio River crested at over 74 feet at Portsmouth, 12 feet higher than the floodwall. Thankfully, since then, a new 77 foot wall has been built, and so far, so good.

77-foot floodwall at Portsmouth, Ohio

But back to the 1937 Flood… This year is the 75th anniversary of the 1937 Flood, and I couldn’t just let it pass without saying a word — not when I spent the better part of my senior year of college reading and writing about it.

I know that a lot of the affected communities are holding commemorative events this month to remember the flood. Unfortunately, I will be missing them, since I no longer live along the Ohio River, but if you have a chance, check them out some of the 1937 Flood commemorative events in cities like Cincinnati (library event list) and Portsmouth (event list).

If photos are what you’re interested in — and who isn’t? — you should definitely check these out:

• Portsmouth Public Library’s 1937 Flood photos (over 70 images).
• 1937 Flood Group on Flickr (35 items as of this writing). I actually created this group, and I encourage you to share any photos of the ’37 flood you might have!
• Cincinnati in ’37 flood (WLWT News).
• Evansville, IN, in ’37 flood (WFIE News).
• Louisville, KY, in ’37 flood (National Weather Service).
• I’m sure I could find more and more, but I think you get the idea…

Here are some great non-web resources on the flood:

• Lowell Thomas, Hungry Waters (Philadelphia: J. C. Winston Co., 1937). I used this heavily in reading up on the “greater context” of the flood for my research paper. There are lots of library copies (including at Dayton Metro), and for that matter I think I personally own at least two copies of it.
• American Red Cross, The Ohio-Mississippi valley flood disaster of 1937 : Report of Relief Operations of the American Red Cross (Washington, DC, 1938). Another one I was glad to find at the Dayton Metro Library back in ’05! Lots of interesting statistics.
• River Voices (DVD, 2002) by Lorentz Productions. It’s an oral history project about the ’37 flood centered on the story of Portsmouth. There are a few library copies out there; I own one myself. You can also watch it at the Portsmouth Public Library Main library, where it is playing all day through the end of the month (Jan. 2012); or at Shawnee State U.’s Verne Riffe Center on January 27, 2012;
• Portsmouth Public Library’s 1937 flood page.
• Ohio Historical Society’s  1937 flood page (includes a brief video).
• Wikipedia’s “Ohio River flood of 1937″ — to be perfectly honest, it’s really pretty poor, but you might find some of the references and external links interesting;

I have noticed in recent years that there have been some new books published on the flood. (Where the heck were these when I was writing my paper in ’05?!)

• James E. Casto, The Great Ohio River flood of 1937 (Charleston, SC: Arcadia Publishing, 2009). Hey, love the title! I haven’t seen this (it’s on my wishlist), but it looks like mostly pictures — a great way to tell the story, flood photos make a huge impact! (Mr. Casto will be speaking on Jan. 26, 2012, at the Portsmouth Public Library.)
• David Welky, The thousand-year flood : the Ohio-Mississippi disaster of 1937 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011). This is also on my “list” — hooray for a university-press history of this event! Hey, I just realized that we have this book at the library where I work…going to have to request it…okay, just did!

One of the librarians at the Portsmouth Public Library gives a nice review of some of these materials in this YouTube video. The PPL also has some oral history interviews with 1937 flood survivors (including Alberta Parker, whose mother Bessie Tomlin died in the ’37 flood), as well as a video about the River Voices video on their YouTube page, so check it out.

And finally, since I have mentioned it at least three times — just in case you are interested in reading a copy of my 2005 senior history thesis “The Great Ohio River Flood of 1937″, you should be able to find a copy at : Columbus Metro Library and Shawnee State University’s Clark Library (both have cataloged it so it is listed on WorldCat); Portsmouth Public Library’s Local History Room and Greene County Public Library (not on WorldCat but I remember giving them each a copy).

Notes on the American Archivist’s 2011 issues

Today is my last day of work until after Christmas. I hit a nice stopping point on my current project yesterday, and so today, rather than get started on the next bit and then leave it for a week, I opted to pass this nice, quiet Wednesday by catching up on some professional reading materials, namely the last couple of issues of the SAA publications American Archivist and Archival Outlook.

The items that most caught my eye in the Spring/Summer issue of American Archivist were Christopher Prom’s article on using Google Analytics with your archives web site (I do love stats!) and the two items on pertaining to Kate Theimer (author of the ArchivesNext blog), including her article on “Archives 2.0″ and the review of her book Web 2.0 Tools and Strategies for Archives and Local History. (It’s funny: I did a review of that book myself here on this blog [June 18, 2011] , shortly before I realized it had been reviewed in American Archivist.)

*****

I found two items from the Fall/winter 2011 issue particularly interesting as well, and I have a little more to say about these:

Jean Dryden’s article “Copyfraud or Legitimate Concerns? Controlling Further Uses of Online Archival Holdings” had some interesting findings. The study showed that archives sometimes use watermarks or “terms of use” statements in an attempt to maintain control over how people use the the archival materials they have posted online. Sure, we all know that’s true. But the article pointed out that in some cases, repositories incorrectly place their “terms of use” requirements under the heading of “copyright” when really there may be no actual “copyright” issue involved. When this happens, it is a case of “copyfraud,” or “asserting false claims of copyright.”

I had never heard that term before — copyfraud — but I’m certain I have seen examples of it.

One example: it always bugs me when I see a photo that is clearly public domain slapped with a “copyright” symbol. Just because you scanned it, doesn’t mean you own the copyright or that it even has a copyright. (Archivists often prefer to digitize images that are public domain because they don’t present copyright concerns.)

Now, I’m not a copyright lawyer by any means, so I don’t know…perhaps there are some “copyrights” to be had with respect to the digital version of the photo. For instance, if I snapped a (no-flash) photograph of a friend standing in front of an historic painting, I obviously don’t own the rights to the painting, but I own the rights to the snapshot I just created.

I often wonder how much some archival respositories really understand about the limits they can place on use of their materials — mainly the ones that have those iron-clad statements demanding “prior written permission” for basically all types of use.

What about fair use for educational purposes or non-commercial purposes? What if I want to write a little historical sketch on this blog and include a brief quote from a primary source that has been slapped with one of those strict terms of use statements? I don’t make any money off this; I cite my sources; I at least try to keep things relatively educational. In my opinion, that’s fair use.

Another item of consideration is the whole published/unpublished thing. I’m not just talking about whether I plan to publish my thing that cites your thing. I’m talking about whether the original thing in question was ever published to start with. The whole “pre-1923 is safe” thing is specific to published works. If we’re talking about something that was never published, there are some different rules, hinging on the death date of the author. (Check out this sweet “Is it protected by copyright?” slider created by the ALA if you need help figuring out whether something is copyrighted.)

So what do you do if you want to cite an unpublished manuscript written by someone who died in 1850, but it has one of those weird, super-restrictive use statements attached to it? Since the author died more than 70 years ago and the work is unpublished, it is supposed to be public domain, and theoretically you should not need permission to use it. But I think we have all seen repositories with use statements quite to the contrary, even though the material is super-old and unpublished. So, which is it? Which is right? I honestly don’t know for certain — I reiterate: I’m no lawyer.

But as someone who is generally gun-ho for sharing information, knowledge, and history, in the case of something that appears (based on copyright) to be “public domain,” I don’t think I would worry too much about using said source and even including a few quotes (all with proper attribution, of course). Because as far as I can tell, such restrictive use statements–on material that to all (other) outward appearances is public domain–seem to over-step the boundaries of what the institution can really demand or expect–let alone enforce. Unless there is some fancy language that can be added to the Deed of Gift that supercedes regular copyright laws (in which case, by all means, please show me your signed deed of gift along with your uber-restrictive use statement).

But getting back to Dryden’s article… Let me be clear: as I understand it, an institution is only guilty of “copyfraud” per se if they claim a “copyright” that they do not actually hold. If similar claims are made under the heading of “Terms of Use”, it’s not “copyfraud” but may still (as Dryden said) “be compromising their core mission of making their holdings available for use.”

*****

The other really interesting article in the Fall/winter 2011 issue was Boyer, Cheetham, and Johnson’s case study “Using GIS to Manage Philadelphia’s Archival Photographs.”

They discussed a project is that the City Archives of Philadelphia has established a GIS-mapped Photo Archive at www.phillyhistory.org. Essentially, the site lets users search photographs depicting more than 150 years’ of Philadelphia’s history…but thanks to GIS, which geo-tags each photo with its location, users can search not only by keywords or time periods (or several other criteria) but also by location (street, intersection, neighborhood, etc.).

To put it simply, this project is completely awesome.

What they’ve done is similar to what one might accomplish using HistoryPin; or by geo-tagging images in Flickr and then using a site like iMapFlickr or GeoSlideShow (something I dabbled in a bit, making this map of the photos of the 1913 Flood district in Dayton, Ohio).

However, the PhillyHistory.org project is just more robust, with the best of both worlds: a searchable database chock-full of useful metadata, along with photos, and mapping. And since their system is apparently ”home-grown”, they were able to make it just the way they wanted it, from the get-go. It makes me think of what could happen if CONTENTdm (with its powerful database workings and potential for granularity) and Flickr (with its geo-tagging) got together and had a baby but without any messy work-arounds. You can even view an historic photo and then click a button right on the same page to show you the GoogleMaps StreetView of the same scene.

Check out this picture of Independence Hall as an example. Pretty awesome, right?

Obviously, Philadelphia is pretty cool. But as an archivist and local history reference librarian in Dayton, Ohio….I spend a lot more time thinking about historic photographs of–you guessed it–Dayton. So of course my mind goes straight to : How cool would it be to have something like this for Dayton?  Moreover, wouldn’t it be awesome if all the institutions in the area could collaborate on something like this? Sure, it might just be a pipe dream, but it’s still fun to dream about. It would be lovely if I could search one big database to see if there are any pictures of such-and-such-a-place. (Then again, even the Philly project doesn’t claim to include all the photos of each location, of course. But hey, if I’m dreaming…I’m dreaming big.)

Honestly, we don’t usually have too much trouble helping people find photos of relatively well-known buildings in town, even if they no longer exist. I’m talking about the “big” buildings that are (or were) right downtown (or in a lot of cases, the mansions of prominent Daytonians that were there before that).

But people often — not, like, herds every day, but more than you’d think — come to the library looking for historic photos of more “ordinary” buildings, also: usually, their homes. And we have to shake our heads sadly and say, “No, we just don’t pictures of things like that, unless your house is ‘famous’,” like if the guy who owns the Bossler Mansion showed up — yeah, we probably have some historic photos of that.

But anyway, I always think to myself about the photographs in the Montgomery County Auditor’s database. I wonder how or if those photos are preserved or kept beyond their usefulness in the database itself. How often are they updated? Do they keep the old ones? Are there any prints or negatives that go along with them, or were they born-digital? 

It’s the kind of thing that gets created for a particular, immediate purpose and would get “outdated” and replaced periodically for its primary purpose…….but the older the photos get, the more “historical” they seem to become. Okay, sure, we don’t have photos of every house from 1900. But in 100 years, the photos-of-every-house-from-the-year-2000 will probably be pretty darn interesting to these house-history researchers, and it would be so lovely if we could say, “Well, we don’t have any at the library, but they have a huge archive of photographs from the Auditor’s Office, dating back to the early 2000s.” 

Honestly, I should really contact someone at the Montgomery County Records Center & Archives and ask about this, because it’s been chewing on me for a while.

*****

Anyhow… I just wanted to muse and share about some neat things I read in the American Archivist today. Hope you enjoyed the discussion.

If anyone has any legal-ese perspectives on the whole “copyright / copyfraud / what if it should be public domain but has weird terms of use restrictions placed on it?” thing, I’d be interested to hear it.

Same with the Montgomery County Auditor’s photographs. Because if those are saved along with all the other records at the MC Records Center, that’s going to be a total gold mine once the photos are old enough to make people “ooh” and “ahh” over them.

Majority votes “No” on Ohio Issue 2, repeals Senate Bill 5

Yesterday, on Election Day, Ohio voters finally settled the whole Senate Bill 5 issue (state Issue 2) once and for all — well, at least until bits and pieces of it are re-passed in another form at a later date. That’s right, the majority of Ohioans voted “no” on Issue 2, which thereby repealed the union-busting Senate Bill 5. Therefore, Senate Bill 5 will not take effect at all. (The law was passed in March but when its opponents were able to gather enough signatures to put it on the ballot for a voter referendum, that delayed it taking effect until after the election. And since it failed voter approval, now it will not take effect at all.)

You can read articles with more details on Dayton Daily News, Columbus Dispatch, and CNN.

Since I have mentioned SB 5 in this blog on several previous occasions, I thought it would be appropriate to make a note [blog] of its repeal.

Keep in mind as I write this, I am a librarian at a unionized public library in Ohio. Some of the SB 5 stuff would have actually applied to us…

Yet, when I was first trying to understand the details of SB 5, I wrote on Feb 17 about some of the provisions that I didn’t find offensive.

For instance, I agree that…

• People should be rewarded for a job well done (and conversely, not rewarded just for showing up).
• It’s unfair to use seniority as the sole basis for retention during layoffs.
• Asking employees to pay 20% of their own health insurance premiums seems reasonable. (My husband and I pay 25%.)
• Asking employees to pay 10% of their gross income towards their own pensions seems reasonable. (Most of us public employees already do that anyway – and it’s not optional.)

I noted later on Feb 24 that our union contract already forbids strikes, so there wouldn’t be any change there. And I would have been interested to see the effects of eliminating the fair share fees (Apr 4).

But then again, there were some other parts of the bill that definitely weren’t so good. Take, for instance, those bits about safety equipment and staffing levels for emergency responders like policemen and firemen. Or what about teachers? I think it could be difficult to measure their performance in a lot of cases. What would they base it on? Student grades? That seems a bit unfair; just look at the disaster of No Child Left Behind and basing school funding on test scores. And let’s face it, you could have the best teacher in the world, and some kids just still wouldn’t make the grades because — and I hate to be the one to have to say this, even though I know I’m not the only one thinking it — some kids actually are lazy and/or stupid.

One of the above listed articles actually states that SB 5 started out as a 1 sentence bill and eventually evolved to over 300 pages. There were just too many factors, too many opportunities for a certain part of it to upset this or that group and make them vote “no”. No wonder it didn’t pass. Quinnippiac University polls as early as May (see May 18) were showing that the majority of voters disapproved of SB 5 as a whole, although there were certain parts that they supported.

Unfortunately, SB 5 was a “package deal.”

It reminds me of the kind of test questions you’d sometimes get in elementary school, the true/false ones that were designed to tell if you were reading the question carefully. If you just skimmed the thing, you’d say, Oh yeah, most of this looks familiar; that sounds right. And you’d mark it TRUE, and it would be end up being wrong, because the teacher slipped in ONE single detail that made the entire statement FALSE.

For example, if I said: “John Kasich, son of Ezekiel Kasich, was elected governor of Ohio in 2010 and pushed SB 5 through in early 2011.” That statement is false…unless, of course, our governor’s father’s name actually is Ezekiel, in which case I have mad guessing skills.

Well, in my humble opinion, SB 5 was kind of like that (at least to me). There were plenty of things in it that I felt were either completely reasonable, already in effect (at least for me), or not really so terrible. But then there were just a handful of other things that were pretty off-putting. And you couldn’t use a line-item-voter-veto or any magic like that. So you had to either say “yes” to all of it or “no” to all of it.

I’m sure this isn’t the last we’ll hear of some of the things that were in SB 5. Good ol’ Kasich has still got a few years yet, right?  But maybe in their next assault on public workers, the boys in Columbus will at least wise up and try to pass a few things here, a few things there. Unlike SB 5, which at over 300 pages threw Ohio public worker unions into a fury on basically every single page.

Seriously? SB 5 might as well have had a huge target sign painted on it.

Thank you, NARA, for making tags searchable

Back in January, I wrote about the new Online Public Access search feature at the National Archives & Records Administration (NARA).

Then, over the summer, I read a NARA blog post stating that they would be allowing user-submitted tags in their new catalog system. This is great, I thought, but then remembered my disappointment with WorldCat’s tag function: users could submit tags but not search them.

So I submitted the question in a comment on NARA’s blog post: will user-submitted tags be searchable?

I left that question on August 23, and I received an answer the following day (although I didn’t realize it). The answer was posted in a follow-up comment from one of the administrators, and since there had been no “check this box to receive emails about follow-up comments” check box, I kind of forgot about it and didn’t realize they had answered me until tonight, when I was reading a related (new) NARA blog post about tags…which linked back to the old one.

Anyhow, now I have my answer, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that it’s the answer I wanted: in short, YES, the NARA online public access catalog tags are searchable.

Here is the response I received from blog admin Meredith D. on Aug. 24, 2011:

Tags are now searchable within OPA, via the main keyword search box on both the basic and advanced search screens. A system update scheduled for late September will feature a separate search box on the Advanced Search screen to limit searches on tags only. At that time, users will still be able to keyword search tags in the main search box, but you will also be able to search on tags alone (and not other parts of the description metadata).

I’ve tried it, and it actually does work! Hooray!

To check it out, go to the NARA Online Public Access search page. If you just search in the main search box on that screen, it will search tags as well as everything else.

If you click Advanced Search, you will have the option to search only User Contributed Tags (third section from the top).

In my opinion, this is fantastic. Why allow users to submit tags if you aren’t going to let those tags be searchable? Having done some research on the uses of social tagging (hello, library school research paper), I understand that there are some ways that users might want to use tags that does not require them to actually be searchable. But it just seems silly to collect that great folksonomy and not make it available for everyone to use it, via including it in keyword searches.

I mean, I know librarians love their controlled vocabulary terms, but come off it. Let’s be honest: there are some pretty unintuitive Library of Congress Subject Headings out there.

For instance: “World War, 1939-1945.” I mean, really? Would it really be so bad if we could also add a tag for “WWII” and make it searchable? NARA doesn’t seem to think so.

(I’m talking to you, OCLC.)

Public Records Fail; or, Seeing with New Eyes

The current issue (Fall 2011) of the Society of Ohio Archivists newsletter has two great articles in it about Ohio county governments doing a good job with public records management and preservation. Specifically, Licking County recently (beginning in 2008) developed a comprehensive records management program, and Montgomery County tackled (and overcame) some massive preservation challenges (beginning in 2006).

I know we have some great records management programs in Ohio, the ones I am most familiar with being in Montgomery County and Greene County. Both of those counties have a “records center” where older, historical records are kept, but with more recent records being kept in their creating offices (e.g., Auditor, Recorder, Courts, etc.).

With having seen so many good examples and with all that I’ve learned in the past 5 years about preserving old records (through proper handling, environmental controls, and security measures, just to name a few), it definitely makes me cringe when I see inadequate care of records.

The example that comes to mind as I write this is from a visit I made several weeks ago to one of the county offices of an Ohio county that shall remain nameless. I had visited this particular county office many years ago and viewed some records there, and I was curious whether everything was still as I remembered it, now that I could look at the place and its records with “new eyes” (educated, professional eyes).

I walked into the office, which was rather busy, and waited my turn. When the girl said, “Can I help you?” I said something along the lines of, “I was here several years ago to look at some naturalization records, and they let me go up to the loft” – motions to the loft storage area above our heads – “to look at the books. Do you still let people do that?” She said yes, and I asked if it was all right for me to go on up, and she said, “Yes, do you remember where they are?” And I said, “Yes, if they’re still back in that far corner,” and she nodded, and off I went up the stairs into the loft.

I remember the first time I was there, those many years ago, thinking to myself, This is great; they’ve just turned me loose in their records room, so I can look at whatever I want, without having to bother anyone or wait on them to fetch it for me!

By contrast, this time, I was thinking, Oh dear God, they just turn people loose in their records room, unsupervised! What if somebody disorganizes things, or (worse) steals something?  I had a purse and a notebook with me, by the way, and nobody took any notice. What was to stop me from tearing pages out of ledgers, folding them up, and stuffing them in my purse or my notebook? (Nobody checked my stuff as I was leaving either.)

Now, I wouldn’t do that, because…well, lots of reasons…one of which obviously being that it’s wrong to take things that don’t belong to you (that’s Kindergarten 101); and not the least of which being my respect for the historical record and the fact that if I want to look at this record, there’s a good chance that someday someone else might, too! But someone else might not think of these things or might not care.

When I got up to the loft, it was pretty much how I remembered it. The naturalization books were standing up in a bookshelf in the far corner of the room, just like last time.

Other things that were probably just the same as last time but which I hadn’t zeroed in on before: it was hot up there; there were pipes directly over the naturalization books (and when I say “directly”, I mean less than 2 feet above them) – though it was hard for me to tell what the pipes contained so maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked; and there were large windows a couple of feet away, which probably weren’t nice, well-insulated windows covered with UV-film, and which were definitely leaking sunlight and heat into the area.

And then I got over to the corner and began looking at the books. Several of them had loose sheets — like, not even attached to the book anymore. (That would make theft all the easier: hey, no ripping paper sound!) Some of the loose pages seemed out of order. Some of the pages (particularly the loose ones) were in bad shape, particularly on the edges. These books were being stored on their edges, rather than flat, and they were really not in good shape to be standing on edge.

Hey, I get it, money is tight. It takes money to do all of this stuff right — it takes a lot of money. Archival supplies and environmentally controlled, secure facilities aren’t cheap. But it made me wonder, was it just a lack of money, or was it maybe also a lack of knowledge and training?

I found the records I was looking for — and clearly, a lot of other scary stuff I wish I hadn’t seen — and then went back down to the main floor. I waited to speak with someone again. When it was my turn, I asked the girl (different girl this time) whether the county had any kind of a records center. She didn’t seem to understand what I was asking, so I rephrased. At that point, she said that each county office was responsible for its own records — ah, so the short answer is, No, there’s no central county records center. When I asked who was in charge for that department, she gave me the person’s name but said she was at lunch and therefore unavailable.

I made a mental note to possibly contact the woman in the future, but I admit I have not done so. I guess the simplest reason is, What would I say?

There’s just something about calling out of the blue to point out inadequacies that they are probably already aware of…that I just don’t think would go over too well.

Fellow archivists and records managers, if you have any pearls of wisdom on this one, I’d be glad to hear them. Would you say something, offer suggestions, offer to help, just ignore it and assume they know but can’t afford to do anything about it?

A little piece of my inner archivist dies when I see places like this and am powerless to try and fix it.