When The Good Guys Do The Right Thing, Everyone Comes Out On Top

Every once in a while, things fall into place and the good guys do the right thing.  Then everybody wins.

Yesterday, my copy of The Manuscript Society News (Vol 33, No 1) arrived in the mail.  Among the many interesting articles was librarian Sam Fore’s description of the private and independent Harlan Crow Library in Dallas, Texas, driving home the point that a researcher needs to cast a broad net in search of manuscript material.

For example, while the complete set of autographs from each of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence and each of the sitting Presidents would not be out of place in this kind of collection, the manuscript journal of Georgia delegate William Pierce, Jr. that includes his “character sketches” of all the other delegates to the 1787 Constitutional Convention would no doubt provide a unique insight into the gentlemen who shaped the nation.  Similarly, artist Gilbert Stuart’s own handwritten 1795 list of those who were to receive copies of his portrait of George Washington is interesting in its own right.

Note: this is truly a "private" library, attached to the personal residence of real estate mogul Harlan Crow.  You see photos of the interior here.

Still, back to the “good guys - do the right thing” idea…

On page 21 of the News, a short paragraph related that the Jersey City (NJ) Free Public Library found a manuscript volume from the 18^th century in their collection.  Specifically, it was a transcription of the 1749 – 1755 court records of Stafford County Virginia that had been copied in 1795 by the then- Stafford County deputy court clerk John Fox.  It had been “liberated” from the Virginia courthouse during the Civil War by a captain of the Fourth New York Regiment and brought north, probably as a “war prize.”  Eventually, it came to rest in Jersey City.

In any case, the good folks at the Jersey City Public Library did the right thing and repatriated the volume to Stafford County, Virginia – its rightful owner - after its century and a half vacation in New Jersey.

Why is this important on several levels?

If you do Virginia research, you probably already know that Stafford is one of those “burned” counties where many records were destroyed during the Civil War.  In fact, the Library of Virginia lists Stafford as “almost hopeless” in its online research aid.  So, any time anything gets back to Stafford, it’s good news.

By the way, for those with an interest in manuscripts, documents, autograph collecting and all historic things hand-written, you might want to investigate becoming a member of the Manuscript Society.   

You can learn more by visiting the Society’s website at: www.manuscript.org.

Mr. Thoreau, Libraries, and The Importance of Checking Out Sources

These days, lots of people use snappy quotations in their email signature blocks.  

Some use the words of Transcendentalist thinker and pencil manufacturer Henry David Thoreau.  You know, the “Walden” guy, pictured at left.

A few days ago, I read an email by a properly degreed librarian and certified archivist that contained the following snappy quote, along with the author’s name, in the signature block.  It read: 

"Libraries will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no libraries." -- Henry David Thoreau

Wait a minute . . .

There was something about that quotation in the writer’s email signature block that didn’t ring true.   

First off, it was not written in a style that was in any way similar to that 19^th century Transcendentalist style of Thoreau’s time. Secondly – and much more important – it was a-historical.

The quotation seems to suggest that Thoreau thought that libraries, -  you know, those “free and open to all” institutions,  -  can “get you through times of no money” which would of course be far better than being rich, but having no access to libraries.

In other words, when there’s no money, there’s always the library.

As far as the lofty thought goes, there’s not much to argue with here, except that “free libraries open to the public at large” were not much of a part of Thoreau’s universe. In fact, because of a simple accident of birth, Thoreau would not have had much experience with using libraries in a time of no money.

You see, he was born too early to have spent much – if any – time in libraries that were free and open to all.

There were, of course, some great libraries in large cities during Thoreau’s time, but they were not free.  They were subscription libraries, with paying shareholders and paying members. Generally, they existed for the almost-exclusive benefit of their paying members.  The occasional visiting (male) scholar was often given temporary on-site privileges at the library,   but local (male) residents were expected to pay for their library privileges. Libraries and money went hand in hand. In times of “no money” there was not much in the way of library access.

Although shareholder-funded libraries and some guild-like “mechanics’ libraries” had been around in North America since the late 18^th century, they appealed largely to the well-to-do urban male citizens. Females were permitted few prominent civic roles in the early new republic. Subscription libraries did not admit them as regular members, shareholders or subscribers, although a tiny number of women who had achieved renown as scholars or writers were occasionally given temporary visiting privileges.

Paying male subscribers thought that having women in libraries was, well, unseemly and distracting.  Besides, what could there be in libraries that would have even the slightest interest to women? Plus, aisles were narrow and there were stairs, so women, with their long dresses, would be in constant danger.

Of course, women were not totally left out in the cold.  During the 1830s, the “lyceum movement” got underway in Massachusetts, and lyceum-sponsored “winter lectures” by important public intellectuals were given in cities and small towns in the northeast. Admission was sometimes free, and sometimes not, but still, the lectures were open to all, men and women alike.

The early 19th century was a time of progressive self-improvement, led mostly by educated and civic-minded males in the northeast. It was during this time that the “social library” movement also began, primarily among those well-educated young men in urban areas. 

An early example of this concept, the “Young Mens’ Association for Mutual Improvement in the City of Albany” was established in 1833 and chartered by the New York State Legislature in 1835.  Its founder, Amos Dean, a young Union College graduate (where he had helped establish the Kappa Alpha Society, the nation’s first literary social fraternity) was elected the YMA’s first president and gave one of its first lecture series  - on the “new science” of phrenology. Dean, an Albany lawyer, was also later selected to be the first president (1855 – 1859) of the University of Iowa, running things mostly long distance from his law office in Albany.

(note: I was on the board of the “YMA” [dba the “Albany Public Library”] for lots of years and am currently the archivist and a past president of the Executive Council of the Kappa Alpha Society, so I consider the long-deceased Amos Dean an old friend and mentor)

Similar “young mens’ associations” – all precursors of the modern public library - were established in Troy (1835), Buffalo and Rochester (1836) and Schenectady (1839).

By 1853, the YMA for Mutual Improvement in the City of Albany had more than 1700 members. With a lecture hall with seats for 800 and a reading room stocked with the leading newspapers and periodicals from around the country and from England, the YMA was one of the cornerstones of intellectual life (at least for men) in Albany.  While the library had amassed more than 10,000 volumes, it was hardly the publicly funded library that we think of today when we say “public library”. It had an income of slightly more than $5000 and annual expenses of about $4500.  Its revenue came from the sale of lecture tickets, annual membership subscriptions (originally $2) and voluntary member contributions.  None of it came from public sources. More important, it was still largely a membership organization. 

Many years later, its book collection would become the nucleus of the Albany Public Library. Even though it became a "public" library, it was still - officially - known as the "Young Mens' Association for Mutual Improvement."  Traditions die hard in a city chartered in 1686.

But, during Thoreau’s time, it was a membership institution, open to all  -  at least, "all" with two bucks to spare.

In a word, in 1853, the concept that there would be many libraries that would receive public funding and would therefore be “free to all” was still far in the future. How far?  Much farther in the future than the death of Henry David Thoreau, only nine years later in 1862.  The Boston Public Library, the first publicly-supported library in the United States, chartered in 1848, did not actually open its doors until 1854. Other “free to all” public libraries wouldn’t appear until the end of the century.

Thoreau said and wrote lots of things during his life.  However, a little research showed that, as I suspected, the quote about libraries and money was not his at all, even though it shows up on any number of “official” public library sites and has even made it into their “official” newsletters and publications.  

(second gratuitous note: I am resisting the temptation of linking to all the public library sites that attribute this quotation to Thoreau. It's hard, but I'm doin' it anyway...)

In fact, it’s listed on the authoritative Walden Woods Project’s “Mis-Quotation Page”, second quote from the bottom.  Interestingly, the page gives the history of the mis-attribution and the original source from which it was adapted.  Rather than spoil the fun, I’ll let you check it out for yourself here.

You'll also learn lots more about Thoreau by poking around the Walden Woods Project site.

The takeaway here should be simple, at least for genealogists.  

One: It pays to check out all sources and attributions carefully; not everything is as we would want it to be.   

Two: Lots of stuff on the ‘net is not right.   

Three: even credentialed and certified professionals can be wrong from time to time, especially if they fail to check stuff out carefully, thus “caveat lector.”

Bottom line:  Verify! Verify!  (Yeah, I know - Thoreau said, "Simplify! Simplify", but what the hey!)

Ruhleben: Germany’s Race-Course/ Concentration Camp for British Subjects in World War One

Genealogical and historical treasures can pop up online in the strangest places.

For example, who would ever think to look on the Harvard Law School Library’s Special Collections area for the new digital exhibition about a German “concentration” camp for British subjects during World War One?

Frankly, how many folks have ever heard about Ruhleben, a former racecourse turned WWI internment camp about 10 kilometers from Berlin?  Or the folks that spent the duration of the war there?

Or that the "residents" designed their own municipal coat of arms?  (Note the "rats rampant" in the illustration above left...)

And if they ever heard of Ruhleben at all, how many knew how it operated (hint one: the “guests” ran it), and what went on there?  (hint two: its own newspaper, plus theatre and musicals and lots, lots more kept folks from going stir-crazy)

The collection (well, actually TWO collections: the Maurice Ettinghausen collection and the John Cecil Masterman collection) have been digitized and are now available for study on the Harvard Law School Special Collections website.  It’s brand-new and well worth checking out. Here’s the link:

Ruhleben: A Digital Exhibit

It’s a well-thought-out and intuitively-designed website and conveys lots of information in a highly graphic way.  Frankly, most people will find it more than a little bit interesting, since “most people” probably have no idea that the German government rounded up so many male “enemy aliens” and sequestered them in a place like Ruhleben for the duration of the war. All in all, about 100,000 people spent at least part of the war in these kinds of camps.

Many of the Ruhleben “guests” were British businessmen working in Germany, while others were students and teachers.  Only males between the ages of 17 and 55 were interned, and about 5,500 people spent a large part of the war in the makeshift village-camp known as Ruhleben.

Not all of the thousands of Ruhleben residents were obscure English businessmen and commercial travelers.  The “guest list” also included athletes, musicians and scientists who were studying or resident in Germany before the War, many from Commonwealth nations, including Canadian composer and conductor Ernest MacMillan and later Harvard professor Winthrop Pickard Bell, familiar to many genealogists for his work on early “foreign Protestants” in Nova Scotia.  “Prince Monolulu” (the West Indian born Peter Carl MacKay) horse-racing tipster and probably the best-known black man in English racing circles after the war, was also a guest at the Kaiser’s Ruhleben race course.

It’s important to note that the Harvard Law School site is not the only source of information about the Ruhleben camp.   Since it was a camp that housed British nationals, it’s only natural that there would be additional information in the U.K. National Archives.

Here’s the link to the U.K. National Archives page with additional information about Ruhleben:

(Note: those with possible family members interned at Ruleben will find the many references and links helpful.)

In addition, here’s the link to a Ruhleben website called The Ruhleben Story.  

You can search the links on the left-hand side of the page for the names (and short biosketches) of many who spent time at Ruhleben as “guests” of the German Imperial government.

The Harvard Law School website raises two interesting legal questions, which I suspect that genealogists will also find interesting – especially if they’re researching military ancestors:  the first question: what exactly is a “concentration” camp and is it different from an “internment” camp or some kind of “prisoner of war camp”?    The second question: what is the legal status of “civilian” (i.e., non-combatant) internees and, by extension, how do their “rights” differ from those of “prisoners of war” under international law?

Nothing about what we do is ever simple.  Still, the spanking-new “Ruhleben” website certainly helps to shed new light on the “war to end all wars” and, in the process, gives us new things to think about.

BURN, BABY, BURN! Should We Plan On Bringing Marshmallows To The Forthcoming University Book Burnings?

Our “short intermission” a while back turned into a rather lengthy hiatus from the blog-iverse.    

Meetings, appointments, an unexpected speaking request and this particular NYG&B honor upended my formerly well-planned schedule.  Ah, well . . . best laid plans and all that…

Today, rather than return to the “food is family” series, I have been moved to comment on an interesting piece that appeared a few days ago in the Chronicle of Higher Education.  Regular readers will of course recall my concern with the current “If Only Everything Were Digitized and Free” meme that is sweeping through both academic and genealogy communities.

Remember – I actually LIKE online digitized stuff.  I take pains to point out that I’m not really a Luddite. I do, however, like to remind folks about the Law of Unintended Consequences, thus reinforcing the oft-quoted concept that the “best laid plans of mice and men” are sometimes not completely thought through.

If this is not quite sinking in because I’m intentionally understating the obvious, just refresh your memory of the “memory hole” that George Orwell described in 1984.  Here’s the definition from the website dedicated to preserving Orwell’s “newspeak”; just scroll down to “memory hole”.    Hint: it’s also worth going back to the novel to read how the memory hole was used to “disappear” stuff. 

While, on one hand, digitization of records and texts makes distribution easier, on the other, digitization of records and texts also makes alteration and obliteration of information easier.  Photoshop, anyone?

Moreover, I frequently take pains to point out that digitization is NOT a means of preservation, but rather a medium of distribution. Problem is, it’s widely perceived by “non-professionals” to be “preservation.”  Once it's been digitized, who cares about the originals. The web is rife with stories about elected local government clerks who view records digitization as THE solution to expensive long-term records storage issues.

Fact – simple solutions to complex problems often do not work out for the best.  If you ever – back in the 70s or 80s – decided to use one of those then state-of-the art “magnetic” photo albums for your irreplaceable Polaroids, you will know exactly whereof I speak.

But, to get back on track, and all of the above having been said, consider for a moment the thesis behind Marc Prensky’s article, titled In the 21st Century University, Let’s Ban (Paper) Books .

Prensky suggests that total book digitization is the foreseeable future and that the total transition to digital formats and e-readers will be much like the transition from cuneiform to paper and from manuscript scrolls and parchments to printed paper books.  It’s just one more step on the path of intellectual progress.  Inevitable.  The Future.  O, Brave New World.

Disregard for a moment the copyright, quality control and access issues that may be involved here. Think instead about Prensky’s future world of learning.

He envisions an interesting university of the future:

In this bookless college, all reading­­—which would still, of course, be both required and encouraged—would be done electronically. Any physical books in students' possession at the beginning of the year would be exchanged for electronic versions, and if a student was later found with a physical book, it would be confiscated (in return for an electronic version). The physical books would be sent to places and institutions that wanted or needed them. Professors would have a limited time in which to convert their personal libraries to all-digital formats, using student helpers who would also record the professors' marginal notes.

An interesting choice of words, that.  Think about it: students “found with” paper books;  books “confiscated”, the “limited time” for professors to “convert their personal libraries”, using impressed student “helpers.”  There are echoes of Ray Bradbury and his Fahrenheit 451 and other scarier, stranger places mothballed in the dark recesses on the brain that these words conjure up

Perhaps Prensky is envisioning a Margaret Atwood-like digital dystopia.  Or perhaps, as some of the commenters suggest, this is all some kind of Jonathan Swift-like satire.

Presnky is a bright guy.  He has a number of academic credentials and a host of books and articles under his belt.  He introduced and talks a lot about the “digital native” and “digital immigrant” concept that he pioneered, as well as using games as teaching tools.

Still, when he writes, he can be controversial.  At very least, he makes folks think and sometimes makes them angry.

Remember – this article appeared in The Chronicle Of Higher Education, after all.  Lots of its readers are – well – higher educators.  Who teach in colleges.  And research universities.  Their comments are more incisive than lots of the stuff you will find on the internet and well worth reading.  And, as might be expected, not everybody agrees that digital universality is a particularly good thing.

Consider, for example, the thoughts of a person who is self-described as “beck6818:”

There is no doubt that technological advances have increased access to information, but I do not believe the goal of education is simply to increase access. My students have access to plenty of resources, but they haven't the slightest idea about how to sit and think, and no amount of digitizing will help that.

I love this.

This is exactly what I stress in my lectures.  Genealogy is NOT just looking stuff up and copying it down.  In this digital age, with so much electronically available, this is the easy stuff.    

Real genealogy, however, is the HARD stuff. It’s about forming questions, considering all possibilities and devoting substantially more time to record analysis than to record collection and digitization.  In short, it's all about thinking.

In the end, a totally electronic, book-less university may well be the world of the future.  There may come a time when lots of folks think that everything that’s available digitally is all there is and all there ever was.

The scary part is that they may also think that it’s all correct and true.  After all, it’s digitized and online. 

What could possibly go wrong with that idea?

Public Libraries Are Free; So, Does That Mean They Don't Cost Anybody Anything?

Lots of folks took the time to read the last post here about libraries and books.  And, as I suspected, real books still matter to lots of folks.  Nobody likes to see books go to “book heaven”, even if they’re the umpteenth copy of really bad teen paranormal romance novels.

And with regard to the destruction of actual manuscript public records  -   that's a special legal issue all unto itself.

There was, of course, an ulterior motive behind the post in the first place.  It wasn’t just about pulping books.  It was to subtly suggest that “free” public libraries aren’t really “free” at all.  Choices have to be made.  Choices cost money.  The physical space that libraries need is not “free.”   Publishers do not provide books for “free.”  And – surprise – the companies that provide libraries with online databases don’t do this for “free.”

Somebody pays for it all in the end.  You pay. I pay.  Pretty much everybody pays something.  And while public libraries are “free” to use, that doesn’t mean that they’re, well, “FREE.” 

Like lunch, ferinstence.

Look, everybody loves libraries.  Just ask ‘em.  But when you ask them to actually PAY for libraries, their tune starts to change a bit.  In fact, the melody gets to sound a bit off-key.

Back in 2008, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation dropped a bunch of money on OCLC (OCLC – the library cataloging gurus   - the people who bring you WorldCat and one of the leaders in the field of library research) to look at the “support” status of libraries as the 21^st century was getting underway.

When all was surveyed, said and done, here’s what they found:

• Public library use is increasing.
• Public library support from government at all levels (federal, state, local) has either flat-lined or declined and ballot initiatives for additional funding haven’t been doing very well.
• Ballot initiatives for new space have been doing especially poorly.
• Largely funded by local tax dollars, libraries compete with local police, fire, public works and other “key services” departments for public funding. Guess who wins?
• Being “supportive” of libraries in the abstract and actually being willing to fork over actual cash to actually support them financially in the “real” world aren’t necessarily the same thing.

Lots of these “on the surface” public library “findings” were predictable.  

However, it gets really interesting when you drill down in the report and see some of the more specific findings.  For example, more than half of the people who described themselves as “financially strapped” felt that their local public library already had enough government funding and said that they would be unlikely to vote for increased support. Less than 30% of the respondents overall felt this way.  

40% of these “financially strapped” folks thought that tax increases for libraries would be “a waste of the public’s money”, compared to 16% of overall respondents.

Remember – this report came out way back in 2008, before “financially strapped” took on its current meaning and encompassed even more of the population.

Another interesting finding was that the segment of the population identified as “Detached” – that is, the “higher income than average” (29% earn $100,000+), well-educated, non-library users are no friends of libraries when it comes to public funding.  While more than 40% would be willing to spend more for fire, police, schools and public health, only 20% would support increased library funding. 

Libraries were close to the bottom, beating out the last-place “park services” only by 3%.

The really interesting finding was the report of the views of what OCLC called the “Web Wins” segment of the population.  These are the folks who felt that the Internet beat the public library five ways to Sunday.  They tend to be well-educated, technologically savvy, gainfully employed and economically successful.

Turns out that the public library is the “least likely” of all public services that they’d support.  Police, yeah, sure.  Fire, yup.  Even “parks”, that’s a “go.”  But libraries – not so much.

After all, they rarely use the public library. They're convinced that they can do it all online at home. Plus, they think that librarians do not add value to the research process.  Here’s the kicker:  in answer to the question “It’s easier to do research on the Internet using search engines like Google and Yahoo than in the local public library”, 69% of the “Web Wins” respondents agreed, while only 37% of the total respondents agreed.  Of course,  most had high-speed internet access at home.

45% of the “Web Wins” group think that all the great TV programming and all the great kids’ activities make public libraries much less important to kids than they once were.

So, if you’re one of these folks and you think it’s all on the ‘net and that librarians don’t add value to the research process – please – do me a big favor.  Don’t vote.  Don’t teach my grandkids.  Don’t do anything that puts you in charge of any kind of “public policy”, especially when it comes to libraries.

Still, the most interesting finding was simply this: support for libraries was strongest among those people who felt that libraries were “transformational”, not just “informational”.  

Libraries and librarians make a difference.  Plus, it’s more than just about storing printed information in book form.  It’s about learning.  More people are using libraries.  More people are seeing their value.

Libraries are all about transforming lives.  

Transformation doesn’t come cheap.

You can read the whole OCLC report here.  All 212 pages.  Knock yourself out.

Everything! We’re Genealogists! We Want Everything! Free! Online! Whaddaya Mean You Pulped It???

Today was a “book” day.  

I’ve been choosing and packing books for our vendor exhibit space at the Connecticut Society of Genealogists annual fall event this coming Saturday – this year in North Haven, Connecticut – and also ordering books for the event the week following in Bergen County, New Jersey. 

(I’m doing one talk at the Connecticut event, should you be interested.)

So, to continue with the “book day” theme, let me point out that the brand-new New England Historic Genealogical Society book catalog was released today.  We stock a number of the NEHGS titles, so it was good to find some new things in print.

In print. In  paper. As in real paper-and-glue books.  

You know, the kind of things that don’t need a special “reader”, will work when the power goes out and can be loaned out or given to friends.  Real books.   You may have heard of them.

Now, before you get on my case, call me a Luddite, tell me to get with the program and suggest it’s only a matter of time till everything of value is (a.) digitized and (b.) online for free, please permit me this simple indulgence to point out that you’re probably grossly mistaken.

No question, more and more stuff is being digitized.  Similarly, more stuff is going online.  That’s all to the good.  But not everything.  Not even close.

Moreover, there’s a dirty little secret that nobody talks about.  Real glue and paper books are being destroyed.  Pulped.  Dumped.  Sold for waste paper. Burned. Ground up.  Shredded.  Turned into blown-in insulation for the thousands of overpriced McMansions that now dot the landscape in ex-urban America.  The very same McMansions that offer convincing proof that there are Schools of Architecture and licensing boards that should be sued for malpractice, at least as far as architectural aesthetics and design are concerned.

But I digress.  The issue at hand is books.  As I said, today was a book day.

First, let me say that I LOVE Google Books and all the other digitization programs.  Nonetheless, when I swivel my desk chair around to look at the stuff on my own shelves – my personal reference collection of real honest-to-Murgatroyd books – most of them are not digitized.  There are both copyright issues and “popularity” issues that keep that from happening. 

Let’s face it: a book titled “The Record : a History of the Graduates' Association of the State Normal School, Worcester, Mass. ; Revised and Brought Down to 1904” is not a title that makes the heart beat quicker.   

In fact, our friends at WorldCat locate a single copy at the Worcester Public Library.

That’s it.  One copy.  In one library.   

There may be others, but WorldCat doesn’t know about them.

Were you to check the out-of-print booksites for that title, you’d find that currently there were exactly NONE for sale. 

So, my personal copy on the shelves behind my desk is – to use the technical term – “hard to come by.”  Of course, most people will never want or need a copy, so it’s a “low-priority” item for reprint or for digitization.

Besides, there’s a copy at the Worcester Public Library.  You can always go there to look at it.

Oh, wait… there’s that “dirty little secret” thing I talked about.

That’s all about space and storage being expensive and libraries being “patron demand-driven”.

Did you know that libraries actually got rid of (i.e., destroyed) books?  Given much thought lately to how/why they did that and how/by whom that was decided?

I spent a large number of years as a trustee of an urban public library and also as a board officer of a large library system.  The concept of “library of last resort” – the library that kept one single reference copy of things that needed keeping – was a much talked about and little acted upon issue, but that was before space was an issue and before digitization got a foothold in the library/book world.

Now it’s a major issue, but still a little talked-about or acted-upon one.

So, if you think that “books in libraries” are safe from extinction and destruction, you might just as well believe in gardens of prancing unicorns and free pie for everybody.  Ain’t gonna happen.

Here’s an article by Linda Holmes on the NPR Blog website that underscores what’s really going on in the book/library world with regard to books going “bye-bye.”  It’s called “Hard Choices: Do Libraries Really Destroy Books?” 

Read it.  Be surprised. Weep.

Then go buy a real book and save it for future generations.

Because what you think is probably happening ...probably isn't.