Reginal F. Lewis Museum Internship #2

 My first task with the museum was to create a digital version of their map which showed the location of their runaways. The original map was very basic and did not include any information other than a small marker with the general location of the event.

In order to create a map, I first had to identify which tool I wanted to use. I have a lot of experience using the Knight Lab digital storytelling tools so I decided to use their StorymapJS tool which allowed me to create markers on a map, write some content, and include some form of media for that specific marker. Unlike the original map, this gave me the opportunity to plot a specific location with coordinates and it allowed me to tell the story of the runaway event in a way that traditional formats cannot. The museum provided me with a lot of their research and documentation but I did further research on my own in order to narrow down specific locations and to be able to tell a better story. As of today, the map is completed but we are discussing the different ways we will be implementing it in order to be able to tell the broader story of the runaways of the Chesapeake.

Internship at the Benjamin Banneker Historical Park and Museum Blog Post #3

Benjamin Banneker’s Family Tree

 Benjamin Banneker’s maternal grandmother was a maid from England names Molly Welsh who came to America as an indentured servant. It is unclear if Molly's name was spelled Welsh or Molly Walsh or if Molly was even a real person. According to Marth Elliot Tyson, one of the first biographers of Benjamin Banneker, Molly was able to acquire  Molly Welsh bought and married an enslaved man from  Senegambia with who she had four children with. One of their daughter’s name was Mary, and she married a former slave named Robert. Together they purchased One hundred acres of land in Oella Maryland in 1737. Robert put Benjamin’s name in the deed to guarantee his freedom. Banneker would live on that 100 acres of land his entire life. The story of Banneker’s family tree is incredibly interesting because of how unconventional it and inspiring it is, in my opinion.

Myths about Benjamin Banneker

Benjamin Banneker is one of the most complex figures in American history. What I mean by this is that Benjamin Banneker’s achievements and legacy is filled with misconceptions of what he accomplished and who he was a person. One of the most common myths that the staff at the museum hear is that Benjamin Banneker built the first wooden clock in the United States. Another myth is that Benjamin Banneker designed the city of Washington DC.  What is true is that Benjamin Banneker was able to construct a wooden clock by deconstructing a pocket watch. Benjamin Banneker also played an important role in the surveying of Washington DC as a timekeeper and equipment maintainer. Banneker made sure that the astronomical clock the surveying team was using was accurate, and its accuracy was critical to the team's work. Banneker also took the field and astronomical measurements. An important job working here at the museum is to differentiate between fact and fiction and clear up any myths about Banneker.

The Legacy of Benjamin Banneker

Benjamin Banneker was an important figure in American history because was a black person that was courageous as he stood for the equality of the races and he sent a letter to Thomas Jefferson advocating that black person were equal to white people. Benjamin Banneker lived in a time when many people, including Thomas Jefferson, considered black people to be inferior to white people. Despite this, Bannaker was able to have reat accomplishments such as becoming a best selling author, a talented scientist, and being involved in the creation of a new nation. 

What I have learned

I have worked at the museum since January, and I have learned much not only about Benjamin Banneker’s life and achievements but also about local history. I have also learned much about the nature and wildlife of the Patapsco Valley, which I think has gotten me interested in learning more about gardening and environmentalism. I know that the Benjamin Banneker Historical Park and Museum is a great resource for learning about history and wildlife, for adults and children. So far, I have greatly enjoyed my time working here. The pictures below are of the manikin of Benjamin Banneker in the museum gallery. The second image is of L'Enfant's plan for Washington DC.

Internship at the Archives of the Holy Trinity Ukrainian Catholic Church #3

    This internship experience at the Holy Trinity Ukrainian Catholic Church has been not just enjoyable, but extremely enlightening as well. I finished the internship with not only a better understanding of the history of my parish, but also with a new, robust skill set. As a consequence of this internship, I now know how to properly preserve and maintain archival materials. I now possess the tools and training needed to preserve some of my family’s own historical treasures. Yet, most importantly of all, I finally realize what it means to be a historian.
    We all learn in our classes that history is everywhere, but personally I did not quite comprehend the omnipresence of history until after I dove into this local archive. Letters, bureaucratic forms, audio recordings, and meeting minutes might seem unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but put together, these small records weave a rich story of the people who created them. But even in archives, these materials risk being lost or forgotten in storage. As part of my internship, I worked to ensure that would not happen. 

Photo of my work station in the archives.

    During the 160 hours I spent working with archival materials, I worked at two tasks which should help preserve these treasures. The first was an archival catalogue, documenting around three hundred unique items within the church’s archives and creating a system to catalog the rest of the archive’s materials. The second was the successful digitization of over a hundred documents, audio recordings, and vinyl records housed within the archives. In the process of completing these two tasks, I found such treasures as gorgeous letterheads and stunning vinyls, hidden in the little basement room where the archives were stored. I learned so much about the beginnings of my parish and the difficult process of building the stunning church of the Holy Trinity.

Album cover for a vinyl record of songs from the opera Bohdan Khmelnytskyi.

    The items in the archives of the Holy Trinity contain the tales of how a small parish strove to build a church of its own. Were it not for the heroic efforts of the church’s head archivist, these stories would have faded away as parishioners relocated, aged, and passed away. Through the catalogue I filled out and the materials I digitized during my 160 hours in the archives, I hope that I helped these treasures survive for generations to come.

Journal Entry 3 Third week at NAMA Internship

                                                                                                            Francis Patrick Fowler

                                                                                                            Aug.6, 2020

                                                                                                            Internship in History

 

Journal entry 3

Third Week at NAMA Internship

About but not written on Monday August.3

I went back on top of the Jefferson Memorial! Wow!  This time it was with four GIS interns and four NCPE interns from Arlington National Cemetery.  The group was too big to get up on the dome like last time. 

This time we walked around the roof and then walked on the platform where repair work is being made on two tiles that broke off and expedited the multi million renovation.  This time I got up and close with some of the pillars and for the first time in my life actual saw Jefferson’s bronze statue. 

I have really explored the space of the memorial.  And like most things I do in life I did it against convention in an upside-down matter.  I started from the top of the dome one day.  Then the next day I walked on a platform on the middle of the dome overlooking Thomas Jefferson’s statue and walking my way down to the bottom. 

I have not been on the ground floor yet.  I ought to get on that.  In any event hieratic scale, how a statue is positioned in comparison to the viewer, has taken on a new meaning for me. 

If I had started like most people, I would be caning my head up at a 19-foot five-ton statue and ask myself.  “Was this a good guy or a bad guy?”  For the first time I was towering over a statue and wondering what judgments and analysis Thomas Jefferson was making of me.  T.J does not look quite as intimidating from up here

            Interesting talks during the tour were made about sound resonance tests in the nineties.  At certain times of day, the sounds of planes, cars, ships ect cause vibrations to climb up the Jefferson dome at the perfect pitch “like the tip of a dogs wagging tail”. 

This overtime caused much of the damage; sound can damage stone it appears.  Another study showed that if the lights on the Jefferson came on an hour after they normally do at night, this would prevent bugs from hitting the memorial and causing further damage. The process of the steam cleaning on the dome, the water sealing of the dome and the lazer treatment on the dome’s biofilm were further talked about.  

Then we went underneath the Lincoln Memorial!  I did not know Lincoln had a basement!  It called the Undercroft.  Construction workers from 1914 to 1922 had to build a massive support labyrinth going 40 feet below the monument. To find bedrock for the memorial’s supporting concrete columns, a 43,800 square foot hole was dug in the marshy Potomac flats. 

After they created the concrete and started on the marble monument above, many workers drew cartoons and their names before sealing everything off.  The undercroft was mostly ignored until sixty years later in 1975.  Limited tours to the public were allowed from the seventies to the nineties but were completely discontinued after 9/11. 

Not a lot of people get to see this!  It fascinated me!  Underneath the memorial’s staircase, there were stalactites from minerals leaking out of the concrete.  Underneath Lincoln’s serene seat of white marble and neoclassical grandeur, the concrete foundations had arches that might not be gothic architecture; but they were some sort of wacky cousin.  Brutalism is the closest architectural movement I could place the undercroft.  Since it was never intended to be seen by anyone, I thought of a made up a word.  It looked like Functional/ Accidental Brutalism.

But it was not scary or ugly.  It was beautiful in its secrecy and its lack of definition.  Concrete cathedral was used by many in the tour to describe it.  This ambiguity extended to the temperature and light of the undercroft’s environment. 

Under the pavers and staircase in the stalactite section, it was humid.  But a step into the concrete cathedral that held the monument cavern it was cool.  It was dark in the inner sanctum of the concrete columns.  But walk out into the outer layer of the cavern and natural light flowed. 

In observations of the Lincoln Memorial, you will see that the architecture endears respect. The sign Infront of Webster French’s masterpiece reads “Please be respectful and quite”. Fifty percent of visitors listen. 

The architecture in the undercroft gave me the impression that such a sign might read “if your down here, you do you”.  There was a bra from the seventies tucked underneath the wooden walkway of the stairwell section.  Alongside 1920 graffiti, there is the more recent “This way out” painted in the concrete.  “Dis vay out” is etched underneath it.  A historic can of Fanta met us as we first entered the complex. 

In public history and conservation work there is a push and pull between restoring and letting things erode with some dignity, while presenting them to the public in some form of shared authority.  The upcoming renovations of the undercroft seem to be an experiment in a new field.  The push and pull of preserving and leaving alone what are and aught to me undignified in a form of shared absurdity.  But what a magnificent and all inspiring absurdity.

I am starting to see I am interested in overlooked sections of the built environment that have been partly reclaimed by nature.  I will remember it always a place to get a bit of fresh air forty feet below a marsh.  Laughter, laughter, laughter at the bleakness of these times.  A place of rest from a Pandemic and a recharging for action against racial inequities. 

As we exited through doors that flowed into the Memorials small museum and gift shop, someone commented not be left in or we would be Lincoln memorial’s phantom.  But what if I stayed behind for decades living off left over Fanta.  When I met the next generation would they think of me in my now historic magnificent and all inspiring absurdity?

There is one distinction that I already want to do away with is the divide between the Lincoln Memorial and the Lincoln undercroft: it is all the same to me.  There will always be the knowledge there is another phrase underneath the immortal.

In this temple as in the hearts of the people for whom he saved the Union the memory of Abraham Lincoln is enshrined forever.

Forty feet below rest the words “I love chicken and waffles”.  But I will go on the record I think Lincoln would find them funny.  He might agree with my idea for the signage “If your down here you do you.”  What a magnificent, all inspiring, and shared absurdity.

 

About but not written on Wednesday Aug. 5th:

A delightful day.  I spent it with the Geographic Information Systems Interns identifying and assessing trees on the National Mall.  The three made me feel welcome and it was awesome learning something new.  I am mostly only good at identifying oak and not-oak.  However, I think a couple more outings and I will get the hang of it.

On a personal note, collaborating with other students today made me especially happy.  I have done teamwork with the preservation crew, with the conservator and with contractors in this internship.  But this was the first time since last March where I have worked with other students. The work reminded me of field work that I almost did for a UMBC class last Spring.

I took a Special projects class last semester where I was collaborating with a team of UMBC students to write up a nomination for a site to be placed in the National Register of Historic Places.  The group was small like the GIS interns with about six of us.  This project was changed the day we were going into the field due to Covid.  We made do. Through zoom calls and interviews made a great foundation for the next group.  But I missed that opportunity to go out into the field with my classmates.  

Neither the special projects class nor the GIS field work were substitutes for each other.  I am still proud of the adaptability of my classmates in March.  The experience of looking up a tree leaves and spray-painting markers with three up standing people was a pleasure by itself. 

Really everything is linked.  And having a nice sunny day with trees, caterpillars, friendly people, and an obnoxious squirrel helped remind me that there is no shame in connecting even the most loosely connected of events.  So long as a I enjoy them for themselves too.  Long story short it was a beautiful day.

 

Journal entry 2 Second Week of NAMA Internship

                                                                                                Francis Patrick Fowler

                                                                                                Aug.6, 2020

                                                                                                Internship in History

                                                                                        

Journal entry 2

Second week of NAMA Internship

Today is Aug.6^th 2020.  It is my day off.  I did not write a journal entry for last week, so I will bring up some highlights from my second week before moving on the third.

 

 About but not written Monday July.27^th

Looking back, I remember I got my ID in the morning.  I did not have a shirt yet, but the Department of Interior badge made me feel good.

The Conservator and I cleaned graffiti, one foot in length, from a lamppost near the War World II memorial.  It was someone’s name.  It was not obvious to the public.  It was in white out.  The Conservator and I applied acetone.  There was a little bit of ghosting (remnants of the graffiti), but it was minimal.  I looked about me.  From War World II The Lincoln Memorial is to the West, the MLK Memorial and Jefferson Memorial to the South and the Washington Monument is to the East.

As we headed south to the Tidal Basin, we were stopped by a park policeman.  Congressmen John Lewis’s funeral procession was stopped at the Martin Luther King Jr Memorial.  The pr Tidal Basin past War II and the Washington Monument.  It would turn to the Lincoln Memorial.  Two Park Rangers in full uniform saluted the procession.  We waited.  I reflected.  But I do not remember what sat in my head.

I think back now but it is heavily mediated by time.  My thoughts lead to something that happened two days after the motorcade at a NPS picnic (see July.29^th entry).  I would find out at a picnic on July.29th that the MLK and Lincoln memorials were favorite sites for the Civil Rights leader to visit.  It was fitting that his motorcade stopped at the sites for one last visit.

The Congressman liked to walk around the Mall in the evening.  He was friendly to NPS staff and always willing to talk.  He would not ask for any special treatment.  But crew members were often reluctant to interrupt the man’s sojourn.  He could be found at the Lincoln Memorial’s steps, sometimes unnoticed by the stream of humanity filing in and out.  He was at Martin Luther King Jr.’s memorial at dusk.  He had been at the groundbreaking and its dedication.    

The rest of this memory is abstract and imagined.  Should I have asked, were the cherry blossoms in bloom?  To give a sense of time was it Spring, Summer, Winter or Fall?  Was the Congressmen staring at the statue or looking at the Tidal Basin?  Maybe, Cormorants flew by him as he stared at his mentor and friend.

What was it like to know someone in the flesh and blood who was now rendered and emerged from stone, bathed in light from the evenings last rays and the reflection of marble?  I can imagine many questions, but I do not want to intrude on those thoughts.

Elenore Roosevelt’s bronze statue is a five minute from MLK’s marble likeness at the FDR Memorial.  She once remarked near the end of her life about the loving and painful memories flooding back to her strongest at twilight.  “The night” she would say “has a thousand eyes.” 

They most have been powerful for the Congressman, in this imagined moment from a secondhand recollection.  But as we waited and the hearst waited, I cannot honestly remember what I was thinking.

I could make assumptions about my thoughts as the motorcade went by from what I feel now sitting at my table with my laptop handy.  Yet, it lacks the strength of immersive observation, be heavily mediated by time and be as abstract as imagining Congressmen Lewis standing at some unknown evening on the Tidal Basin and connecting it to a his funeral procession waiting during the afternoon. 

In these days of joy and panic observation, time and abstraction do not seem to always follow a linear course.  What I imagine and what I hold as fact must sit close by in my brain. 

I would have to explain to anyone reading that I was not a reliable primary source for a historian.  I would explain John Lewis’s posthumous note in the New York Times captured the moment more than I could.  President Obama’s eulogy encapsulated Lewis’s call to “good trouble”.

I remember one thing about the motorcade that is fact.  As it passed, I placed my hand on my heart and said, “Safe travels, sir.”  I was told later by my mom, a retired Navy commander, that this is a proper civilian salute. 

About but not written on Tuesday July.28th

I hanged out with the Preservation Crew at Brentwood D.C.  I learned from one of the preservation crew’s mason’s how to replace pavers down at the Archives building.  We removed and replaced two pavers.  The first one we used hand tools.  The second one we used an electric chisel. 

The Mason expert stressed the importance of working smart and not hurting myself.   I was greatly appreciative.  As it neared 100 degrees at noon, he took over and banged out the job in ten minutes.   It was a good experience, but I do not think I will be pursuing a career in mason work.  However, it was an important skill to be aware of even at my novice level.

In front of the archives I realized that the last time I had been hear was a year ago when the Nationals won the World Series.  Before a Pandemic but during a time when racial injustice was still ongoing, I was obliviously high fiving strangers.  The world has changed, but have I?  To use an expression from New Zealand “yeah, nah, yeah.”

I will say that it was nice to get to know the mason.  No stone or pavement is placed without labor and precision in this city.  After explaining his love of building things encouraged by his father he went on to explain that regardless if a piece of construction is the size of a pebble, the logistics of fitting it in and making it work with the built systems in place can be monumental.  No job is small in masonry.  Mason work is an honorable profession and should never be looked down upon.

About not written on Wednesday July.29

Every part of my body is sore!  The mason was right about working smart.  I was wrong. OUCH!

Today I did some cleaning with two preservation crew members.  I have done brass waxing on some of the signage around the memorial with the conservator.  Today, we were cleaning some of the leaves out of the empty pools.  The water system of the memorial will be turned off till the Fall. 

I am starting to get a keener eye for looking at the statues.  I noticed what I thought was a fracture on FDR’s funeral procession relief.  I snapped a picture and sent it to the conservator.  She explained it was a casting flaw.  I looked underneath FDR’s collar by his main statue.  Found some green here and there.  But for the most part the brass looks good with a nice dark brown. 

I am not getting to bogged down by definitions like Patina, or the hundreds of descriptions of cracks and rusts.  But I am slowly getting more comfortable asking questions the preservation crew and conservator.

I finished the day with a small picnic at Hain’s point that NPS hosted.  I got to talk with the head of the preservation crew about his thirty years with the Park Service.  He talked about his experience seeing the Grand Canyon.  He talked about sighting Congressmen John Lewis along the National Mall. 

He also mentioned growing up in D. C’s Navy yard and one time riding his bike with his friends to Roosevelt Island.  He said that too nine-year-old it was like finding a lost world.  I got a chance to talk with NAMA’s superintendent.  After my shift at Brentwood I went to the Arboretum to see the famed Capital Columns.