Alice Cunningham Fletcher and Francis La Flesche in the Transcription Center

Earlier this month, the National Anthropological Archives (NAA) posted the first of many newly digitized materials from the Alice Cunningham Fletcher and Francis La Flesche Papers (NAA MS 4558) to the Smithsonian Transcription Center. Primarily comprised of Fletcher’s professional and personal correspondence, allotment field books, and notes, this digitized content makes up only a portion of the large, and extremely significant, joint papers of Fletcher and La Flesche.

Alice Cunningham Fletcher at her writing desk, undated, BAE GN 4510,
 National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

Born in 1838, Alice Cunningham Fletcher was one of the first women ethnologists in the United States. She was a lifelong student and intellectual, receiving her education from a number of different prestigious institutions. Fletcher’s career in anthropology, however, did not begin until the 1870’s when she became an informal student of Frederic Ward Putnam, Director of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology at Harvard University. Eager to make her mark in the field, she embarked on her first ethnographic trip in 1881, travelling to Nebraska to live among and study the Omaha people. It was uncommon at this time, for female ethnologists to conduct field research alongside their subjects, and Fletcher’s decision to live and study among the Omaha people, solidified her professional, and tenacious, role in a male-dominated field. Fletcher was accompanied on this trip by Omaha writer-activist Susette La Flesche (1865-1915) and her half-brother, Francis La Flesche (1857-1932). This trip marked the beginning of Fletcher and Francis La Flesche’s life-long personal and professional relationship. The two forged an informal mother-son relationship, often working and living closely with each other. Because of this, their professional papers are merged within the collections of the National Anthropological Archives.

Portrait of Francis La Flesche and Sister, Susette,
undated, Photo Lot 24 SPC Plains Omaha
BAE 4558 La Flesche & Family 00689800,
National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

Fletcher’s research with Native American communities--including the Omaha, Nez Perce, Winnebago, and Sioux--focused primarily on culture and music. A pioneer in the ethnographic field of American Indian music, she studied and wrote out native songs and was among the first anthropologists to use a Graphophone to record music (Scherer and DeMallie 2013).  She published over forty monographs and reports relating to native culture.  Her contributions to the Bureau of American Ethnology’s Handbook of North American Indians, under the editorship of Frederick W. Hodge (1907 and 1910) included not only a section on music and musical instruments but more than ninety-six other articles as well. Fletcher also took on a number of leadership roles and appointed positions within the field of anthropology.

Working as a consultant for the Bureau of American Ethnology, Bureau of Indian Affairs, and the Peabody Museum, she worked on land allotment claims with Native tribes, continued in her own ethnographic research, and presented at a number of professional associations. Fletcher worked closely with the Women’s National Indian Association, was elected president of the Anthropological Society of Washington, became the first female president of the American Folklore Society in 1905, and served as Vice-President of the American Association for the Advancement of Science.

Alice Fletcher, Meepe, and Martha, ca. 1887-1889, BAE GN 4439,
National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 

Fletcher’s professional career and research paved inroads not only for female ethnologists, but in the field of ethnomusicology, anthropology, and Native American studies more generally. Yet it’s also important to note that her work, along with many other ethnologists in the nineteenth century, emphasized cultural assimilation for Native peoples and resulted in many negative consequences for these communities. Reflecting the common paternalistic view of many white Americans at the time, Fletcher believed that education was of primary importance for Native Americans, as it would ease assimilation into “civilized” culture. This belief undergirded her interest in ethnography and her work among American Indians. She was involved in the early 1880s with the Carlisle Indian Boarding School in Pennsylvania, the most well-known Indian school devoted to the purpose of educating and “civilizing” Native children (famously known for its founder, U.S. military officer Richard Henry Pratt’s slogan, “kill the Indian, save the man”). She also prepared an exhibit to the World Cotton Centennial in 1884 showing the progress of civilization among the Indians of North America, and conducted research in 1886 among Native tribes in Alaska for the Commissioner of Education.

In 1887, Fletcher was appointed United States special agent in the allotment of lands among the Winnebago, Omaha, and the Nez Perce under the Dawes Act, which she helped write and pass that same year. This act, created by Senator Henry Laurens Dawes of Massachusetts, authorized the President of the US to survey American Indian land and divide it into allotments for individual Native Americans. Those who accepted were granted U.S. citizenship. Fletcher advocated for the Dawes Act as a way to better assist American Indians in obtaining land and homes and thus ensure survival. In reality, the act had detrimental consequences for Native culture. It led to the eventual breakup of numerous Indigenous reservations and imposed a system of private land ownership on many Indigenous tribes. This practice of land allotment was not ended until the passage of the U.S. Indian Reorganization Act in 1934. Additionally, Native boarding schools, and cultural education and assimilation of Native Americans resulted in the loss of traditional language and culture for generations of Indigenous communities, separated families, and often included physical, verbal, and emotional practices directed at Native children by white educators and officials. Fletcher herself may have eventually realized the error of these policies, as she abandoned her political work at the end of the nineteenth century, and began focusing more directly on her ethnographic research.

Transcription of Fletcher’s correspondence and notes will help make this material--and significant history--more accessible by creating readable, searchable content, available through the Smithsonian Collections Search Center and other major online search engines. This work will bring further awareness to the history of nineteenth-century ethnological work, the developing role of women in a male-dominated research field, and the evolution and consequences of United States Indian Policy. Those studying these topics, including historians, anthropologists, and Native scholars from the communities Fletcher worked with, will benefit from increased access and readability.

Access to this newly digitized and transcribed content is especially crucial for Native communities, who are now the NAA’s second largest user group. Native community researchers often use NAA materials like these to research their language, culture, and family history. Native researchers will be able to more easily locate this information within Fletcher’s writings once it is transcribed and keyword searchable, making genealogical research and cultural and language revitalization projects easier.

Dedicated digital volunteers (or volunpeers as we call them in the Transcription Center) have already completed projects from Fletcher’s archival collections, but there is still much work left to be done. More projects will launch online each week! Many of our volunpeers have even noted the interesting discoveries they’ve found, or provided additional background information while working through these rich materials.

These discoveries, and notes left on transcription pages, not only increase our excitement about and interest in this material, but also help to enhance the records and improve their use even further.

Want to join the effort to make the Alice Cunningham Fletcher materials more accessible? Visit the project pages on the Transcription Center’s website, sign up for a free account, and dive in! Have questions? Reach out to the NAA (naa@si.edu) or the Transcription Center (transcribe@si.edu) anytime.

Caitlin Haynes, Coordinator
Smithsonian Transcription Center 

and

Katherine Crowe, Reference Archivist
National Anthropological Archives 

The finding aid to the Papers of Alice Cunningham Fletcher and Francis La Flesche, which contains more information, can be found here. Fletcher’s Sioux journals are currently being prepared for publication by Joanna C. Scherer, Emeritus Anthropologist at the National Museum of Natural History, and David Posthumus.

Works Cited:

Scherer, Joanna C. and Raymond J. DeMallie, eds., 2013
Life among the Indians: First Fieldwork among the Sioux and Omahas by Alice C. Fletcher. Introduction by Scherer and DeMallie.  University of Nebraska Press.

Hodge, Frederick Webb, ed., 1907-1910.
Handbook of American Indians North of Mexico, 2 Pts./ vols. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 30. Washington: Smithsonian Institution: U.S. Government Printing Office. (Reprinted: Rowman and Littlefield, New York, 1979).

Uncovering History with the Smithsonian Transcription Center

Since the Smithsonian Transcription Center launched in June of 2013, dedicated volunteers around the world have helped the Smithsonian transcribe more than 322,000 pages of materials like journals, logbooks, botanical specimens, and photographs. If you’re familiar with the Transcription Center, you may have noticed we like to use the word “volunpeer” to describe the more than 9,300 volunpeers who contribute. The idea is that we all help one another to get the most accurate, usable transcriptions. As a result, we not only make knowledge more accessible but we preserve and promote cultural heritage.

Some of the most rewarding moments with the Transcription Center occur when volunpeers share what they uncover. Recently, while transcribing U.S. naturalist Vernon Bailey’s field books from an 1890 expedition, volunpeers were caught by surprise when they read in his field book that he had captured and eaten a golden eagle. Volunpeers following our Twitter account engaged in a lively discussion and even got the Smithsonian Institution Archives to chime in. Check it out:

In some journals, authors' personalities seem to leap right from the page. Take, for instance, Robert Kennicott's colorful telegrams to Spencer Baird, Assistant Secretary of the Smithsonian at the time, from 1865-1866.

Baird appointed the young Kennicott as the lead naturalist for the 1865 Western Union Telegraph Expedition in search of a suitable route for a telegraph cable across the Bering Strait. Even before embarking on the voyage, however, Kennicott's relationship with the expedition’s leader, Colonel Charles Bulkley, was strained. In one telegram transcribed by volunpeers, Kennicott writes to Baird in hopes that his reputation will be cleared should he die or possibly be killed on the voyage. In the image below, you can see his handwritten letter beside the transcription form used by volunpeers.

In this telegram to Spencer Baird, Robert Kennicott writes: "Should I die I fear [Bulkley] might not find it for the company's interests to take any special pains to make my true record clear. This [is] because some of his subalterns are jealous of me."

Kennicott would die the next year at age 30, and his death remained a mystery until only recently. Read this blog post by the Smithsonian Institution Archives to find out more.

"I've some pleasant memories to take to the arctics with me, and am keeping one little soft spot in my heart despite the general hardening of that organ. Such is life." - Robert Kennicott.

What's Next for the Transcription Center?

In September, the National Air and Space Museum's archives department put up their own project for transcription: the Joseph Mountain collection. The collection follows Joseph D. Mountain’s career as a U.S. Air Service pilot who served as an aerial survey photographer for a 1934-1935 expedition to Saudi Arabia. It captures a snapshot of traditional Saudi Arabian life and it has proven to be popular among volunpeers. In just 7 days, 411 pages were transcribed and reviewed! There are more pages available to transcribe, although we're certain they won’t last long. But don't worry -- we have more projects in the pipeline. Stay tuned.

An image from the Joseph Mountain collection.

On Saturday, September 23, 2017, we spent the day at the Smithsonian's Anacostia Community Museum for the DC History for All: Volunteer Fair event where we joined local cultural heritage institutions to share how residents can help preserve local history. You can read a summary of the event here in this blog post by the Library of Congress.

If you missed us and happen to be in Washington, D.C. throughout October, say, "Hello," to us at the 2017 Smithsonian Digitization Fair from October 18-19 and at the 2017 Archives Fair on October 21.

We’re grateful to our more than 9,300 volunpeers who make the Transcription Center possible, not to mention the 15 Smithsonian galleries, libraries, archives, and museums who provide us with content to transcribe.

Want to help preserve history with the Smithsonian? Visit us at www.transcription.si.edu and let's see what you uncover.

Andres Almeida, Coordinator

Smithsonian Transcription Center

“My curiosity was stronger than my fear”: The Michiko Takaki Papers

It was 1964 when Michiko Takaki boarded a plane to take her from Tokyo to Manila to begin her ethnographic fieldwork. She was planning to spend one year among the Kalinga people of the northern Luzon region of the Philippines, a location she had chosen because her doctoral advisor (Harold “Hal” Conklin) studied the nearby Ifugao. “The usual allotment for doing doctoral research and observation is one full year,” she said in 2010. “That’s what I had thought going in, but that went right out the window because I couldn’t speak the language in one year.”[1]

It was 1968 before Takaki finally returned to Yale University to complete her doctoral dissertation. In what a later colleague described as “an unprecedented 46-month uninterrupted period of fieldwork,” [2] the planned one year of research had turned into four. The data and notes gathered during those months form the bulk of the Michiko Takaki papers, 1921-2011 (bulk 1960s), the most recent collection opened to researchers at the National Anthropological Archives (NAA).

Michiko Takaki surrounded by Kalinga associates and assistants, 1965, Box 116, Michiko Takaki papers, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

Born in Japan in 1930, Michiko Takaki (also known as “Michi”) had traveled to the U.S. in the early 1950s with a precursor to the Fulbright program (then called GARIOA, or Government Appropriation for Relief in Occupied Areas) to earn her bachelor’s degree in literature. She returned to America for her master’s in journalism, from Southern Illinois University. Anthropological study followed soon after. She began her PhD studies at Columbia University, then transferred to Yale. She received funding from the Wenner-Gren Foundation to pursue her doctoral fieldwork, which began when she was in her early thirties.

In a series of oral history interviews recorded between 2006 and 2010, Takaki reflected on her experience completing fieldwork in the Philippines as a woman and an outsider among the Kalinga, a people known for ritual violence associated with headhunting. [3] “I chose to go to Kalinga, but with tremendous apprehension,” she is recorded as saying. “Now for a man, an American man, to go into that part of the Philippines would be fine because Americans had prestige. Nothing would happen to a white American male, but a Japanese woman would be a very different story…Professor Conklin, my mentor, assured me that it isn’t too bad, but he is a white American. In the city, it’s a different story, but anything can happen up in the mountains. No one can come quickly to rescue you as it’s not just a single mountain range. I was frightened on my way, but my curiosity was stronger than my fear.” [4]

Michiko Takaki in the Philippines, 1965, Box 116, Michiko Takaki papers, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

The danger Takaki felt was palpable. “Anyone who is not one of the Kalinga is an outsider,” she said. “Eventually, you’ll be beheaded and people will know that you were killed. I don’t think it’s possible to survive in Kalinga unless you are protected by someone there.” Conklin had connected Takaki with a Kalinga man named Tan Jin, who served as her entry point to the Kalinga. “Once you are allowed to enter somebody’s house and drink their water, the master of the house is obliged to help you in the event that you are attacked…I was very fortunate, early on, that Tan Jin took me in as a guest and it was known that I had eaten his food and had drunk his water.” [5]

In the end, Takaki felt, perhaps ironically, that her gender aided her immersion into Kalinga society. “I don’t think they really knew what to do with me. I didn’t fall into [any] category they had known. I appeared to be a harmless female and it was to my advantage because, from the very start, they had sensed that I was not there with hostile intention.” For the next four years, Takaki would study the Kalinga, predominantly in the villages of Uma and Butbut. With notebooks, pencils, tape recorder, and two cameras (one for color film and one for the less expensive black and white), she compiled meticulous notes on Kalinga culture, language, and the subsistence activities of rice cultivation and livestock ownership. “At the beginning, I couldn’t even think of the means by which to communicate. I was always afraid because I didn’t really know what I could or could not do.” But by the time she left, “In Uma…they came to know me and I came to know them.” [6]

Michiko Takaki in her field office, 1968, Box 116, Michiko Takaki papers, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

Takaki flew out of Manila and back to Tokyo – and from there to New Haven and Yale – in 1968. The trove of ethnographic material she had gathered during her four years in the Philippines made a similar cross-continental trip. Over the next nine years, she would work with this material to complete her 3-volume doctoral dissertation, “Aspects of Exchange in a Kalinga Society, Northern Luzon” (1977). She continued to refer to the same field notes and field-gathered data for the remainder of her anthropological career, as a faculty member in the Department of Anthropology at the University of Massachusetts, Boston. Now preserved at the NAA, these materials serve as rich mid-twentieth century documentation on the Kalinga that should interest anthropologists and other scholars working on the northern Luzon, as well as Kalinga community members interested in their language and cultural heritage. This collection also shines a light on the life and work of Michiko Takaki, who overcame the challenges of her status as an “outsider” to complete an immersive and extended field experience, the documentary results of which have continuing value.

The NAA thanks the colleagues of Michiko Takaki at UMass/Boston who helped to facilitate the transfer of her papers to the NAA. The Michiko Takaki papers, 1921-2011 (bulk 1960s) were processed with funding from the Wenner-Gren Foundation. The collection is open for research at the NAA. A finding aid for the collection is available on the Smithsonian Online Virtual Archives (SOVA).


Kate Madison, Processing Archivist
National Anthropological Archives

Sources

[1] “Kalinga story,” Box 109, Michiko Takaki papers, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.
[2] “Tenure dossier,” Box 109, Michiko Takaki papers, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.
[3] Headhunting, the practice taking and preserving the head of an adversary, has been widely studied by anthropologists in an effort to understand the relationship between ritual violence and attaining manhood and/or sustaining cosmological balance among peoples like the Kalinga.
[4] “Kalinga story.”
[5] “Kalinga story.”
[6] “Kalinga story.”

Tribulus Troubles: Wildflowers in the Edward Palmer Papers at the National Anthropological Archives

Although archives are best known for their well-organized and carefully-described materials, this TV-ready appearance belies a wealth of intellectual and physical labor by archivists. Behind the scenes are records which defy description, papers for which no particular order seems better than another, collections of questionable or wholly unknown provenance. Archives are full of trouble. So it's no surprise that archival records for a flower which was once categorized as part of the genus Tribulus - deriving its name from spiky weapons and multi-pronged threshing boards - should provide some poetic archival entertainment.

Image by Max Licher,
courtesy of SEINet Arizona-New Mexico Chapter.

Kallstroemia grandiflora, the plant formerly known as Tribulus grandiflorus and commonly referred to as the "Arizona poppy," is a low, creeping plant with a show of bright orange flowers during and after the monsoon in the Sonoran desert. Samples of K. grandiflora were collected on behalf of the Smithsonian Institution in the late 19th and early 20th centuries by self-trained ethnobotanist Edward Palmer. Many of Edward Palmer's papers were retained by William E. Safford, who wrote a biography on Palmer, and William Andrew Archer, a former chair of the National Museum of Natural History's (NMNH) Department of Botany. Documents by Palmer, Archer, and Safford coalesced and were eventually transferred to the National Anthropological Archives (NAA) as the "Edward Palmer Papers."

Other materials by Palmer exist elsewhere in the archives, including photographs, maps, and vocabularies. William Safford was himself a US Naval officer who collected for the U.S. National Museum, and some of his photographs were donated to the NAA by his wife. Within the Palmer collection are folders which contain both handwritten notes by Palmer and typewritten duplicates of Palmer's notes by Safford or Archer - sometimes with additional unsigned, handwritten corrections or queries. In the end, at least five individuals contributed content to the collection, representing a confluence of interests, careers, and experiences among many people and across many decades at NMNH. From among this particular multi-vocal tangle emerges K. grandiflora.

Palmer's earliest sample of K. grandiflora still within the NMNH Botany Department holdings comes from the city of Guaymas, Sonora in the year 1887 - Palmer Sample 177(1),(2). Yet Palmer's notes from that year are scant and make no mention of this plant, despite noting the bloom times of chrysanthemum, rose, and tuberose in the region (3). His 1887 specimen of K. grandiflora finally reappears over 60 years later when William Andrew Archer compiled Palmer's collection notes into a series of index cards.

Notecard for Tribulus grandiflorus, 1887, Edward Palmer Papers 1869-1920,
Box 11, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution. 

The unsigned handwritten corrections point to ongoing name confusion. The plant is commonly referred to in English as "Arizona poppy," despite not being part of the poppy family Papaveraceae but rather the caltrop family Zygophyllaceae. In the Mexican Spanish spoken during Palmer's time, the plant was referred to as "mal de ojo" (in English, “the evil eye”) or "abrojos" but these two terms can also refer to two other plants: desert globemallow (Sphaerlacea ambigua) and puncture vine (Tribulus terrestris) - the latter plant being known for distributing its thorns into passersby's clothes, shoes, and - most painfully - feet (5),(6).

Notecard for Kallstroemia grandiflora, 1898. Edward Palmer Papers 1869-1920.
Box 11, National Anthropological Archives, ,Smithsonian Insitution.

Yet the lack of original documentation for Palmer Sample 177 is actually fitting for a plant sample: emphasis on sample. K. grandiflora produces flowers which are likely cross-pollinated by a regional wasp, Campsoscolia octomaculata (7). Later, the flowers become self-pollinating. In either case, another agent becomes involved: C. octomaculata, the vibrations from another insect shaking the pollen onto the stigma, or even wind moving the plants around and shaking pollen onto the stigma. Beyond pollination, K. grandiflora is part of a larger ecosystem. The plant roots itself in sandy, alkali soils which are unacceptable to many plants and absorbs monsoon floodwaters. For two other non-pollinating wasps (Bembix u-scripta and Myzinum Navajo) K. grandiflora provides a source of nectar. As Archer mentions on a notecard for a later sample of the plant, residents of Saltillo used the tops of the plants to treat rheumatism and K. grandiflora is often spotted in 'wasteland' (8). Using the documentation in the Edward Palmer papers, the plant can be seen as a part of our bodies, our economies, our visual landscape, and our understanding of space.

Much like K. grandiflora, the Edward Palmer Papers reflect the involvement of many agents, not all of whom were working at the same time or on the same projects. The 60+ year gap between Palmer’s trip to Sonora and the creation of Archer’s notecards reflects the fits and stops which characterize scientific discovery, and science within a natural history museum. The collection is a snapshot, or a sample, of some of the ongoing processes in the careers of ethnobotanists, the administrative staff behind them, politics, and infinitely deep ecologies around the globe – all at particular times. Upon being transferred to the NAA the records were re-organized, meaning they are also representative of archival theory in practice.

Together, the NMNH Botany collection and Edward Palmer Papers provide us with two complementary samples. While the dried sample of K. grandiflora can give us structural information on the species, it tells us little about the ecology from which it emerged and can only tell so much about the collector. For instance, Palmer's existing 1887 notes touch on other interests which took up his time: local market offerings, politics, racial ideologies, and a woodpecker pecking on a tin can. Without the archival records we're left with an incomplete picture of how the sample arrived at the Smithsonian and how it fit into Palmer’s complete life in Guaymas. Without Palmer Sample 177, we have no way to experience the materiality and physicality of K. grandiflora in Guaymas 130 years ago. Palmer’s missing notes remind us that no record is complete within itself, which is why interconnected collections – like those found at the Smithsonian Institution – are so invaluable. While this kind of documentary 'trouble' might not be what most researchers hope for, it hints at the complexity of all archival collections and the ways that botanical and archival collections are involved in one another.

Dani Stuchel, Reference Intern
National Anthropological Archives

Sources 

(1) "Palmer Sample 177" is only meant to indicate that this was the 177th sample from Guayamas in 1887, not that it was the 177th sample from Palmer's career or the year 1887.

(2) Kallstroemia grandiflora. Catalog number 14164. Botany Department, National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian Institution. EZID: http://n2t.net/ark:/65665/363a7966f-bf47-414f-83a9-196d5a305bd8.

(3) Notes on Plants from Guaymas 1887, Journal Notes 1880-1889, Box 3, Edward Palmer Papers 1869-1920, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

(4) Notecard for Tribulus grandifloria, 1887. Box 11. Edward Palmer Papers 1869-1920, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

(5) Wolf, M. and B. Evancho. 2016. Plant Guide for desert globemallow (Sphaeralcea ambigua A. Gray). USDA-NaturalResources Conservation Service, Tucson Plant Materials Center. Tucson, AZ. 

(6) Washington State University Extension Office. Control de abrojo o cadillo. URL: http://www.nwcb.wa.gov/pdfs/puncturevine_spanish.pdf

(7) O'Neill, Kevin M. Pollen foraging and pollination, in Solitary Wasps: Behavior and Natural History. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. 2001.

(8) Notecard for Kallstroemia grandifloria, 1898. Box 11. Edward Palmer Papers 1869-1920, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

Stories from Ethnographic Field Diaries in the Edward C. Green Collection

On October 27, 1971, anthropologist Ted Green was on the way to the airport with his wife and one-year-old son to begin his doctoral field research among the Matawai Maroons in Suriname. “1st day must be worst in anthropological history,” he wrote as the first line of his fresh field notebook. “Attaché case and tape case lost en route to airport containing everything. I’m set back a year, if indeed I can start work at all now. Complete despair.” In the cases were traveler’s checks, letters of introduction, and the family’s medications – essential items for a long foreign stay. More bad news was to follow: “Other things screwed up: house promised not available, museum friend has emigrated, etc. etc.” Fortunately for Green and his family, the cases were found the next day and sent on to meet him in Suriname. “Awoke this morning to learn via phone from Washington that both cases found…Fantastic good fortune. Contents were priceless, irreplaceable,” Green noted.

A page of a field notebook, Suriname, 1971, Box 4, Edward C. Green papers, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

Green would spend the next two years in Suriname with his family, documenting the Matawai dialect of the Saramaccan language and Matawai kinship structures. (Green’s dissertation, completed in 1974, was entitled “The Matawai Maroons: An Acculturating Afro-American Society.”)

Ted Green in Suriname, 1974, Box 3, Edward C. Green papers, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

The field notebooks he kept during this time now reside among the Edward C. Green papers, c. 1970-2016 at the National Anthropological Archives (NAA). In addition to standard field note fare – such as interviews, observations, and analysis – Green’s field notebooks capture intimate moments where his professional life as a doctoral student intersected with his personal life as a husband and father. Green’s young son borrowed his father’s notebooks for handwriting practice. Scrawls and loops in earlier notebooks turn into doodles in later ones, with big block-lettered “TIMMY” scratched across pages. The antics of the family dog, Karl, make the cut as well, as do the concerns and ethnographic observations of Green’s first wife, Shannon.

In December 1971, Green wrote, “We flew to Jacobkondre because we were afraid the boat trip would be dangerous for the baby…Gaddan [Jarien Gaddan, a member of Parliament] and the village (missionary) schoolteachers were quite interested in us. We were given a house by the airstrip, the upstairs of which is used for radioing Paramaribo. Then Gaddan and the plane left. A number of children came over to look at Timmy and our big dog, and soon they were all playing.” Perhaps no notebook entry is so dramatic as the opening salvo, but the diaries nevertheless capture the intimate and messy process of ethnographic field work – including the loss of traveler’s checks and their miraculous recovery!

Three field notebooks, Suriname, 1971-1972, Box 4, Edward C. Green papers, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution.

The Edward C. Green papers, c. 1970-2016 were processed with funding from the Wenner-Gren Foundation. The collection is open for research at the NAA. A finding aid for the collection is available on the Smithsonian Online Virtual Archives (SOVA). Sound recordings in the collection, including field interviews among the Matawai, are currently being digitized process so they can be made available online within the next year.

Kate Madison, Processing Archivist
National Anthropological Archives

"Lots of love…" Letters from Antarctica, December 1962

Below are letters written by Invertebrate Zoologist Waldo Schmitt to his wife, nicknamed "Stummy", while he was completing field work in Antarctica during 1962-1963.  Schmitt wrote these letters during his last major trip into the field.  Schmitt had been going into the field since 1911 when he served aboard the U.S. Bureau of Fisheries Albatross as an Assistant Naturalist during its cruises along the west coast of America and Alaska.  He married his wife Alvina in 1914.

The letters below were taken from crowdsourced transcriptions from the Smithsonian Transcription Center.  Photographs were taken by Waldo during his time in Antarctica.

Participant sitting with a penguin on the Palmer Peninsula, Antarctica c.1962,
SIA RU007231 - Waldo L. Schmitt Papers, 1907-1978, Smithsonian Institution Archives, SIA2012-0662. 

December 15, 1962

Dear Stummy, 

Here we are in Antarctica at McMurdo. A bright and sunny day; there are puddles of water, ice-edged to be sure in the streets (such as they are of volcanic ash largely; and no colder than a

crisp winter day at home; maybe a little more crisp about 15° this early a.m and now at 8 p.m it is 18°, the same as at noon. We are in the "land of the mid-night sun. The sun is high in the heavens, and as bright as the clearest day at home at mid-day.

Oh! yes from the shore as far out as you can see a sheet of snow covered ice over which the tractors plough back and forth hauling supplies from the ice - airfield where the planes land about 3 miles from the Station proper. 

Quite a place and honestly it doesn't feel as cold as the thermometer has it. We sleep two In about an 8x8 room, one cot above the other bunk bed style with a fair sided [[bedsi?]] locker, one ceiling lamp, & one chair. The sleeping accommodations are quite primative - the meals on the other hand quite lavish - meat twice a day, and a hot plate of beans on the side at lunch

and dinner to day. Dessert at lunch today was bread pudding with raisins; at dinner a square of chocholate cake with white icing. The coffee seems quite good. Canned milk does not stand up well, tends to separate they say, and so Proam is used instead. We have to walk about half a block, or is it a block to the toilet facilities. There are no showers - "sponge baths" are what serves here. I got about 4 hrs sleep on the plane and am beginning to feel sort of dopy. Tomorrow the mail goes out so I shall try to send this and a few cards. A pretty one to each

of you in Coronado.

Gee Stummy, I should have sent you out to Barb's before I left. Please don't feel apprehensive about money matters or Barb, or me either things will work out alright. I believe I get $12 a day per d for the days we are not either on a ship or at this station. Of course I [[Had?]] pay the

hotel, but I shall get the per diem which will more than offset it. Then I should get the $1,800 on top of that. It will more than cover all the bills and some besides, and that is not taking the "pay" checks into account.

Stop worrying. It looks as though I shall come through alive to plague you the rest of our days. And don't worry about Barb until you see for yourself this time out there. Too bad about Ruth. To think after all these busy years that she had to run into this trouble whatever it is. ||| The Seiglers sent me an Xmas card! 

Be good Stummy we aren't going to be so badly off. I'll check over those taxes when I get back

Lots of love girl and then some 

Waldo

View of vessel during specimen collecting near Peterman Island, Antarctica, 1962-1963,
SIA RU007231 - Waldo L. Schmitt Papers, 1907-1978, Smithsonian Institution Archives, SIA2012-0666.

Dec. 16, 1962

Dear Stummy,

Here we still are, I hardly know what to write. In the hotel they moved me to a single room on the second floor a bother because I'll only be here another day or two. Tomorrow or the next day I move in with Jack Crowell at Eddie Goodall's place. I did not go out Sunday with Jack
because I wanted to see the Museum director G.A. Turbot, and a Dr Stonehouse who has been up on the Palmer Peninsula where we are going or expect to go. Stonehouse was due last night at 5 oclock but did not return on the plane. I had thought he was on vacation but he's down at McMurdo.

The weather is/as I wrote before. The present is the more rainy season and though its summer we get temperatures in the low 40's at night, and in the low 60's (63) at midday if the sky clears by then and the sun comes out.

There is no heat in these rooms or this hotel except the hot water tap and a fireplace in some of the rooms. There was one in the double room we had but none in the cubicle I am in now.

I am sitting here writing on my lap because there is no table and bureau top is too high, wearing my heavy blue shirt. On bed I have besides sheet, two thin blankets and 2 spreads white, and red one. Yes, I am plenty warm, but at that the room is colder than out of doors, at least when I go out after breakfast. The other reason I have not yet moved out of hotel is that Eddie
Goodalls place is way out by the airport and the busses that go by his place run 45 mins apart in busy - rush hours - and 1.10 mins apart during day. Most of yesterday I spent in the public Library here checking up on Antarctic animal & biology literature. I want to go back at
least another day to check over some of the reports of earlier expeditions.I had intended doing this at home and would have done so except for that darn moving. I hate to think of what I have awaiting me back at Museum.

Too bad that mail is going to be so little and far between. Now take this one. If I send it home Thelma will have to forward it, but at that it will just about reach you when you get to California.

There is nothing much else to write a-bout. Here at this hotel the meat is mutton most all the time but they do have a fish course and now and then pork and chicken, of course eggs for breakfast almost smothered in bacon strips, not crisp fried either. I try to have them bring me only one strip, but they seem incapable of doing it, or just won't from force of habit. The hot tea at 7 a.m served in room is not so bad - in a fairly cold room. However the
water runs hot and that's a comfort.

Maybe at Eddie's place over the week end I'l have a table to write on. Next week if we still are here I shall try to get in a little collecting. I'd hate to be here a couple of weeks and not have a New Zealand crab for the Museum collection, but nothing is handy, and the few "tools" I brought are so tied up in warehouse at airport that I can't well get at them. They are also too well packed to undo for fooling around here.
Also I am afraid I'll have to let Christmas buying go over. the sending is the chief problem after trying to think of what to buy. I do hope you are keeping "weller," getting over that too worried spell. It will be nice to see Barb and the kids again. Lots of love girl first to you and then the rest

- from the old man - Waldo

Helicopter fire on McMurdo Base, Antarctica, prior to arrival of emergency response team,
SIA RU007231 - Waldo L. Schmitt Papers, 1907-1978, Smithsonian Institution Archives, SIA2012-0665.

Penguins on the Palmer Peninsula, 10-11am January 28, 1963,
SIA RU007231 - Waldo L. Schmitt Papers, 1907-1978, Smithsonian Institution Archives, SIA2012-0665.

Dec. 16, 1962

Dear Stummy,

Today we had snow - a brief flurry this a.m. a bit of a let up and then with lunch more through the rest of the afternoon and supper perhaps till 7 or 8 // I got off a number of Xmas cards including one to Dick.

This was an earlier letter, Before the unfinished one above. The part that got carboned read as follows "You may not think that I know what I am doing, but we are utterly dependent on the Navy. Today I want to get Xmas cards; its finally come to the point where I get them, or not. The
question is to whom to send them and how many. If as the bunch here is doing I would get U.S. stamps on them which we can do from here out, but there is the thought that folks would expect N.Z.stamps. - That decision I wont make till I get cards written /// As ^ [[insertion]] is
[[/insertion]] always the case, we are having unusual weather, the summer has suddenly descended upon us - after all the cool weather I have been complaining about in the 40s and 50's - day before yesterday was in mid 80°s and yesterday it was over 90°! Believe it or not, today, the temperature is back more to normal summer temperature. When its cool here its delightful, when its chilly, not so good! [When its hot, it is pretty hot & uncomfortable, you want to move along.

Lesley Parilla, Cataloging Coordinator

Field Book Project, Smithsonian Institution Libraries

Throwback Thursday: The Field Notes of M. Moynihan

The field notes of Martin Moynihan, first director of Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, have been a source of fascination for the Field Book Project since they were cataloged in 2013.  Moynihan was an evolutionary behaviorist who studied birds, primates, and cephalopods.  He had a unique way of recording observations that has inspired blog posts, a hand writing contest, Flickr set, and even an article during 2016 in Hakai Magazine.

Field notes on gulls, November 13, 1955, by Martin Moynihan, Smithsonian Institution Archives, SIA2014-03311. 

A flamboyant and distinctive individual, Neal Griffith Smith, a colleague of 36 years, described him:

“When I first met him, he looked like Salvador Dali, for he sported an almost 5-inch waxed mustache, wore a Bond street suit, and carried a proper British umbrella. He remained an elegant though less dandy figure for the rest of his life…He had a reputation for rages and sudden changes of mood. In the early years he was always firing off his resignation because things were not going his way. It was pure theater. Martin was a gentleman in the true sense of the word, and perhaps the most intelligent person I ever met.” (p. 758)

Primate, 1960, by Martin Moynihan, Smithsonian Institution Archives, SIA2014-0118. 

Thanks to a grant the Field Book Project received last year, Smithsonian Institution Archives is now digitizing and making Moynihan's and numerous other collections available online through Smithsonian Collections Search Center, Internet Archive, and Biodiversity Heritage Library, with more being made available each week.  New digitized content is made available on Smithsonian's Collections Search Center each month.  These are just a few examples of his photographs and field notes.  We encourage you to check out as more become available online.

Field notes on Alouatta palliata [South Pacific Blackish Howling Monkey] with drawing, August 30, 1961, by Martin Moynihan, Smithsonian Institution Archives, SIA2014-03780. 

To learn more about Field Book Project's other field book collections, we encourage you to check out Smithsonian Collections Search Center that holds records for 628 field note collections covering the natural sciences.


Lesley Parilla, Cataloging Coordinator
Smithsonian Field Book Project

Neal Griffith Smith. (July 1998). “In Memoriam: Martin Humphrey Moynihan, 1928-1996.” American Ornithologist’s Union. Published by University of California Press. Accessed December 1, 2011 at http://www.jstor.org/stable/4089423

From the Mountains to the Sea: Vin Hoeman and POBSP

The Division of Birds in the National Museum of Natural History holds an extensive collection of field books that are part of Smithsonian Institution Archives Record Unit 000245, and contain the notes of researchers who worked for the Pacific Ocean Biological Survey Program (POBSP). A significant portion of my internship has involved finding out more about the people who were involved with POBSP, and creating biographical profiles for these researchers. While many of the researchers who worked on POBSP went on to careers as botanists, entomologists, ornithologists, and zoologists for the Smithsonian and other academic institutions, there were a few that went in other directions. One especially notable example was John Vincent “Vin” Hoeman.

Vin worked with POBSP in 1964 and 1965, but his path to working with birds was somewhat unorthodox. He earned his B.S. from Colorado State University in Forest Management, and later moved to Alaska, where he did graduate work in zoology and worked for the Arctic Health Research Center in Anchorage. Life in the outdoors, especially mountaineering, had been an important part of Vin’s life from an early age, so it is not surprising that he was interested in working on these types of projects. Although he had no formal training in ornithology, his detailed notes for the field books indicate his keen interest in studying birds and other wildlife. Vin worked as a research assistant for POBSP, participating in six at-sea expeditions, as well conducting research on the main Hawaiian islands while not at sea. His main duties involved bird banding, taking blood samples, and general wildlife observation.

An example of bird banding data

Vin’s field notes come across as thoughtful and intelligent, even poetic at times. After his arrival in Hawaii to begin work with POBSP, he writes, “the steady stream of thoughts kept sleep from reaching me.” (SIA RU000245, Series 60, Volume 57) Notes about interactions with fellow crew members frequently included details about family and physical descriptions. He was also in Hawaii at the time of the April 1964 Alaskan earthquake, the second most powerful earthquake in recorded history. The field notes show Vin’s internal monologue, worrying about his friends in Anchorage, and debating the pros and cons of leaving POBSP to help with the recovery efforts:

Tell Pat when I get back, waking him to do so. “Do you think it’s that serious?” he says. I tell him I think the lives of my friends are of importance. He later agrees and would’ve let me go on my own. I’d thought of doing so, of course, but told myself that would be irresponsible. After all I’m unauthorized and probably not needed. Civil defense and the Army will have things under control. What matters that I’m a member of ARG [Alaska Rescue Group]. I’d just be another mouth to feed. If I was any good or a first aid instructor my pupils will save lives.
I hope these were my foremost thoughts rather than the cost of fare I’d have to bear, the possibility of losing my job, the fact that I’d have to buy arctic gear in Seattle before going up; the threat of prolonged discomfort. (SIA RU000245, Series 60, Volume 57)

Destruction on 4th Avenue in Anchorage after the April 1964 earthquake. On the left, Mac's Foto (mentioned in Vin's notes) is visible as one of the damaged businesses (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:AlaskaQuake-FourthAve.jpg)

 When Vin finally visited Anchorage as he prepared for a POBSP expedition in the Aleutian and Pribilof Islands in June of 1964, he saw a city that had been devastated, making note of a “rubble-pile and a terrific fault full of sunken houses.” Despite this (or perhaps because of this), he also tries to find humor in the situation: “Walk up to 4th Ave., and look at the gap where all those bars, Mac’s Photo, Dendi Theater and Hautbrau used to be. Urban renewal I call it – a fine view.” (SIA RU000245, Series 60, Volume 57)

Mountaineering was never far from Vin’s mind, even when he was out at sea. His field notes from March 5, 1965 give some insight into his plans for after his work with POBSP was finished, saying “If I’m going to be a great anything it’ll be [a] mountaineer and mtn. writer I think.” (SIA RU000245, Series 60, Volume 57) Vin did end up returning to Alaska, and became a mountain climber of some renown. Among his many “firsts”, one that stands out is his accomplishment of being the first person to reach the summit of all 50 states. He was also part of the team that became the first to cross the Harding Icefield on the Kenai Peninsula. Sadly, Vin was killed in an avalanche during a climbing expedition on Dhaulagiri, a peak in the Himalayas, in 1969, leaving behind his wife Grace, as well as many family members and friends.

Notes from an at sea expedition

Although he was only with POBSP for a few seasons, Vin evidently thought highly enough of his cohorts to send a letter in 1967, informing everyone of what he had been doing since leaving the program. And Vin certainly had a positive impact on POBSP through the data he collected. I believe that this story points to the importance of “citizen scientists” – that no matter what a person’s academic background or training might be, if someone is passionate about a certain topic, they can make a contribution to the world’s understanding of that topic. It also reminds us that behind the data, there are wonderful human stories to be shared. I hope you have enjoyed learning about Vin’s story.


Conal Huetter, Intern
Field Book Project, Smithsonian Institution Libraries

To learn more about the Pacific Ocean Biological Survey Program and its field documentation, check out “Life in the Field: a Reflection on Cataloging Field Notes in the Pacific Ocean Biological Survey Program”  on the Field Book Project Blog, images on Flickr, and field book records on Smithsonian Collections Search Center.

Sources consulted:
Hoeman, J. Vincent. Field Notes. 1964-1965. Series 60, Volume 57. SIA RU000245, National Museum of Natural History (U.S.) Pacific Ocean Biological Survey Program, Records, circa 1961-1973, with data from 1923. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC. 15 July 2016.

Gonzales, J. (2014). Project 49: Grace without Vin, a love story without a happy ending. Green and Gold News. Retrieved from http://greenandgold.uaa.alaska.edu/blog/30162/project-49-grace-without-vin-love-story-minus-happy-ending/.

Johnston, D. (1969). John Vincent Hoeman, 1936-1969. American Alpine Journal, 16 (2). Retrieved from http://publications.americanalpineclub.org/articles/12196950100/John-Vincent-Hoeman-1936-1969.

Researching Druids

I recently researched a scientist by the name of Druid Wilson in order to create his EAC-CPF record-- EAC schema provides a way of delineating a collection creator's biographical details. I do this type of research because our collection creators commonly don't have archival collections with finding aids or published biographies.

Specimens collected by Druid Wilson in the Paleobiology Collections of the National Museum of Natural History. Clockwise from top left: Maretia carolinensis Kier, 1997 (PAL 398338), Rhyncholampas gouldii newbernensis Kier, 1997 (PAL 398324), Echinocyamus wilsoni Kier, 1997 (PAL 398476), and Psammechinus carolinensis Kier, 1997 (PAL 398321). 

When I began my research, I figured I had three details in my favor. He worked for the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS), his name is unique, and he published articles with USGS. Given that he was published, worked for a major federal agency, and had an unusual name, I thought finding basic details would be relatively easy. How many Druid Wilsons could there be? 

According to my research, there may be more than one, and both had a demonstrated interest in paleontology. What are the chances?

I started with my favorite online platforms: VIAF, Google, JStor, and Ancestry.com through Smithsonian Libraries. I found a tantalizing bit of information in a JStor article about proposed members in Journal of Paleontology from September 1949:

"WILSON, DRUID, Frostproof, Fla. B.S., 1929, Southern College, Lakeland, Fla. Citrus grower and amateur paleontologist. Interested in Tertiary invertebrata. Proposed by Katherine V. W. Palmer and G. D. Harris."

I checked Ancestry.com and found that life dates that appeared to be for possibly two different Druid Wilsons, approximately 1906 - 2002. My confusion was due to the locations listed in Ancestry. It appeared as if one Druid lived his entire life in Florida and the other didn't. Most long term USGS staff live in the Washington DC area. Florida didn't make sense. However, as I began to catalog his papers, I found a significant portion of them covered the paleontology of Florida. I found a listing for a Druid Wilson in Alexandria, VA, which made more sense geographically.

If I could trust the bits I found online, I could say he was born around 1906, lived in Florida, primarily Frostproof. He earned a B.S. from Florida Southern College. Druid was originally a citrus grower who developed an interest in paleontology, and later worked for U.S. Geological Survey. He married Ethel Adams Wax in 1941 (source: Florida Department of Health), and passed away around 2002.

I would love to think that we have the field notes of a former citrus grower. I want to find out how he became fascinated by paleontology. However, I don't even know Druid Wilson's middle initial to confirm his identity. If there are two Druids, their life dates are also similar.

To add to this mystery, I found a Smithsonian form for official travel, listing travel to Frostproof, Florida in 1978 in volume 7 of his notes on Florida!

With more time and research, I may be able to determine that they are indeed the same person. This brings up a difficult question of balancing time with other work responsibilities. I am personally tantalized by the potential story, but will have to leave the bread crumbs for a future researcher or staff member. The details I leave behind must be definitive and verifiable, so that the EAC record makes an excellent trail of crumbs.

Lesley Parilla, Cataloger
The Field Book Project

The Mystery of "Dear Ed"

Blogs across the Smithsonian will give an inside look at the Institution’s archival collections and practices during a month long blog-a-thon in celebration of October’s American Archives Month. See additional posts from our other participating blogs, as well as related events and resources, on the Smithsonian’s Archives Month website.

In 1934, Harry S. Ladd traveled to the Fiji Islands to study fossilized coral as it related to the formation of islands and atolls in the region.  There are two field books in which he recorded information about the specimens collected and the locations; the text is wonderfully engaging.  This may be partly due to Ladd's choice of writing his notes as a series of letters to "Edward."

The first page of Harry S. Ladd's journal documenting his work in Fiji during 1934. Smithsonian Institution Archives. RU007396, Box 3, Folder 3. SIA2015-009575.

But who was Edward?  This was one of several questions I wondered about while cataloging them for Smithsonian’s Field Book Project – a partnership between Smithsonian Libraries and Smithsonian Institution Archives to make field books easier to find and available in a digital format for current research.  Given the lighthearted nature of the two field books, I felt sure that Edward had to be a colleague and friend, but leads were few for the time available while cataloging.

Smithsonian Institution Archives recently digitized the volumes, so I decided to take a closer look at the work the two field books document.  By reading through the specimen records related to the volume, I not only answered my primary question, but came to understand the extent and implications of the work the volumes document.

106 specimens from the 1934 trip reside in the Paleobiology collection of the National Museum of Natural History.  Many of them are part of the Mollusca Cenozoic Marine Type Collection. Some of these specimens list a joint collector by the last name of Hoffmeister.  With this last name, I uncovered Hoffmeister's personal papers, UC Sand Diego, J. Edward Hoffmeister Papers, 1925 - 1982.  I finally found a plausible "Edward."

In 1934 Harry S. Ladd and J. Edward Hoffmeister of the University of Rochester in Fiji to study one of the major questions in the history of geology during the early twentieth century -- the "coral reef problem." As stated in UCSD's finding aid,

"At issue was a seeming paradox: the food and light conditions necessary to reef-forming corals are found only in relatively shallow water.  Nevertheless, two common coral formations, atolls and barrier reefs, frequently occur far below the ocean's surface. Most of the proposed solutions to this problem have postulated a change in sea level relative to the reefs' foundation."

Darwin had proposed that the land beneath these kinds of corals sank, and the sea level correspondingly rose, as the reefs grew. American geologist Reginald Daly offered a theory that involved a combination of glacial warming and coral growth.  However, neither theory completely addressed what was observed in the field.

These two volumes document Ladd's second time in the field with Hoffmeister.  It appears that by this second trip, the two had formed a solid friendship.  Interestingly enough, the finding aid for Hoffmeister’s personal papers indicates that his materials impart the same wide range of description: field observations alongside notes about the people and communities of the Pacific.

"Caution - If  taken more than a few pages at a time this book is absolutely DEADLY!" Harry S. Ladd's field books capture his sense of humor along with his scientific observations.  Smithsonian InstitutionArchives. RU007396, Box 3 Folder 3.

One of the Field Book Project's long term goals is to describe the field books so that they can be reconnected with the specimens and resulting publications.  We are often concerned about the information that informs the specimens collected, but is not recorded on the specimen tag.  In this case, the specimens ended up being integral to understanding the field book content.  By connecting the field books to the specimens they document, we are able to better understand the archival materials as well.

Lesley Parilla, Cataloger
The Field Book Project