The Mysterious Mister John Collins: A Lesson in Census Math

One of my goals in developing this blog has been to have a space where I can not only share the results of my research projects, but to also share the hows and whys of how the stories come together.  Sharing primary source documents within the narratives fulfills part of this goal, but today’s post will take things a step farther with a more detailed how-to on analyzing data to strengthen the foundations of someone’s story.

This week, I’m working on analyzing some census data in an effort to track enslaved people across a few decades as well as attempting to locate specific people on the official census records and slave schedules.  It can feel a bit daunting to try to make heads or tails of all those hash marks and numbers. How in the world do you locate someone when the record merely counts people living on a property without attaching their names?

Welcome to what I have come to call “census math.”  Census math is simply my way of using information I have to break down those numbers on a census into more manageable and useful data.  

One of the best examples I have of using this process centers around the delightful discovery of the obituary of John Collins. I wasn’t looking for John Collins. In fact, I didn’t even know he had existed. A few years ago, I was scanning old newspapers looking for some information on Dr. John Croghan when an obituary caught my eye.

National Advocate, February 25, 1819

“At the residence of Maj. William Croghan, Locust Grove, on the 9th of January, Mr. JOHN COLLINS, aged 102 years, a native of New Jersey.

The deceased had lived in the family of Major Croghan for the last 27 years, and has uniformly enjoyed remarkable good health; he affirmed before his death that he had never, in the course of his life, been blooded or taken a single potion of physic.  What was remarkable in the deceased, was, that he considered everything his own, and would frequently threaten to dispossess merchants in Louisville of their goods unless they kept their accounts uniform and correct, but in other respects was perfectly sane.”

There’s so much to love about John Collins in his obituary.  In fact, it’s so great that it was picked up by multiple newspapers around the country which is how I found it in a newspaper from New York.  And as much as I would love to write paragraphs on the virtues of never being blooded and keeping ones’ accounts in order, I’m going to focus on the fact that he “had lived in the family of Major Croghan for the last 27 years.”

It would be an understatement to say everyone at Locust Grove was surprised to learn that John Collins had lived with the Croghan family for any length of time.  There is one letter that briefly mentions John Collins during the late 1700’s, but there are no hints that he lived with the family.  Out of the hundreds of letters we have from various Croghan family members, not one of them mentions John Collins living with them and it doesn’t appear that he was buried in the family cemetery at Locust Grove.

I love old obituaries, but I have to admit they aren’t always 100% accurate. So I had to be open to the idea that the general sentiment might be true, but the facts could be off.  Maybe the Croghans treated him like family, but it was possible Mr. Collins did not actually live at Locust Grove. I wanted to find at least one more solid source to prove or disprove if he had lived at the Grove. It was time to do some census math.

Selection from the 1810 U.S. census.  William Croghan’s listing is in the middle.

The U.S. census is conducted every ten years.  According to his obituary, John Collins died in 1819, one year before the 1820 census, which means we have to go back to the 1810 census to try to locate him.   If you look at the categories people were sorted into for the census, you learn that there were 12 “free white persons” and 35 “slaves” listed in the Croghan household. The question was, could I prove one of those free white persons was John Collins?

The first step was to make a list of anyone I knew who was likely to be living at Locust Grove in 1810.  The obvious place to start is with William Croghan, his wife, Lucy, and their eight children. Based on various source materials, I also knew that Lucy’s brother, General George Rogers Clark, had moved to Locust Grove after the amputation of his leg in 1809 and that William Croghan’s nephew, Nicholas Clarke, his wife Emilia, and their children were also living there at the time.

Figure 1. Breakdown of people who could potentially be listed in the 1810 census for the Croghan household.  Emilia Clarke’s exact birth year is currently unknown, but various sources give us an approximate age for her.

The census breaks households down into different age groups so the next step was to add how old everyone on the list was that year.  Then I needed to look at the information that is actually recorded in the census. People are separated by age and gender. It states there were six males under 10, one male aged 26-44, three males 45 and older.  There were also two females aged 26-44.

Now the fun begins! At this point, I can attempt to match people with the data I have.

Figure 2. My breakdown of free white males under the age of ten living at Locust Grove in 1810.

First up is the free white males males under 10 category.  The census tells me I need to account for six boys. The three youngest Croghans all meet the age requirement at ages eight, eight, and five which leaves three more boys to fill out the category.  All I have to do is look to my notes in Figure 1 to see that Nicholas and Emilia Clarke had children who were also in the correct age bracket. My original list included William Clarke, who was around five and Nicholas Clarke, who was three.  That left me one short.

Now, the Croghans were known to be gracious hosts who invited various family and friends to stay with them for extended periods.  Maybe the sixth boy was a random nephew? It would be easy at this point to start looking for references to a random child staying at Locust Grove, but a simple solution presents itself when you look at the next census conducted in 1820.

By 1820, Nicholas and Emilia Clarke had moved into Louisville which means they had their own household listed on the census separate from the Croghans.  A quick glance tells me the census taker noted there were three free white males under the age of 10 in their family. Boys in that category would have been born between 1811 and 1820. Census data often relied on the judgement of the census taker which means the information is often more of an approximation than 100% fact.  It’s highly likely the oldest of the three boys listed in this age group could have been born in 1810 and not 1811. The last of the six boys under 10 on the 1810 census is most likely the third son of Nicholas and Emilia Clarke.

Figure 3 shows Nicholas Clarke in the 25-44 age bracket.

There are no free white males between the ages of 11 and 24 in the Croghan household on the 1810 census.  Where are John, George, and William, Jr.? Did the census taker forget to record the three oldest Croghan children? Does this throw the veracity of the source out the window?  Actually, a quick check with various sources tells me all three were away at school and would not have been counted as residing at Locust Grove. And Nicholas Clarke neatly fills the role of the one man between 25 and 44 that is listed.

The ladies are even easier to sort than the young men.  The Croghan girls are only 13 and 9 years old in 1810, but Ann and Eliza are conspicuously absent from the census.  While it might be surprising by modern standards, family letters tell us they were also away working on their studies.  In this case, they had been sent to Mrs. Keets Domestic Academy in Springfield, Kentucky.

Figure 4. The only free white women living at Locust Grove in 1810 were Lucy Croghan and Emilia Clarke.

The census tells us there are only two free white women between the ages of 26 and 44 living at Locust Grove during this time. Based on my handy dandy list (Figure 1), Emilia Clarke is a perfect match and Lucy’s age would only be off by a year which is well within an acceptable margin of error.

Figure 5 breaks down free white males over the age of 45 living at Locust Grove in 1810.

This leaves one last category to evaluate and it’s the big one, free white males over the age of 45.  The census says there were three men in this age bracket living at Locust Grove in 1810. William Croghan and George Rogers Clark were both 58 and comfortably take two of the spots.  That leaves one last person to account for and I have found no evidence of a friend, family member, overseer, farmhand, laborer, or anyone else living at Locust Grove that year. I have only found one document to support someone of the correct age residing at the Grove in 1810 and that’s the obituary of John Collins.  There he was hanging out in the census all of these years, waiting to be discovered.

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Out of History’s Shadow – The Story of Alfred Croghan – Part 1

Alfred and Rose, portrayed by Sidney and Xavier, in the hearth kitchen at Historic Locust Grove in Louisville, Kentucky. – Photo by Heather R. Hiner/Fox and Rose Photography.

In my previous post, I shared the story of an enslaved man named Alfred who was most likely sold by the Croghan family of Historic Locust Grove as punishment for an unknown act.  This post begins a series on the life of a second man, Alfred Croghan.

For the most part, the enslaved people who lived and labored at Locust Grove in Louisville, Kentucky are poorly documented.  When I started this research project, Alfred Croghan was documented better then most. But “better than most” is a low bar. I knew his first name, the approximate year of his birth, and that he had spent part of his adult life at Mammoth Cave.  After many, many hours of research and with the help of librarians, archivists, and others, I am excited to share that Alfred Croghan has gone from being poorly documented to being the first enslaved person owned by the Croghan family that we can trace from a child at Locust Grove to his death as a free man in Louisville.

Alfred’s first documented appearance may be in the 1820 Census.  According to the census, half of the enslaved people living at Locust Grove were 14 or younger.  I cannot be entirely sure that Alfred is one of the children listed in the census because the only person listed by name is the head of the household, Major William Croghan.  Major Croghan’s family and the enslaved people he owned are not listed by name.

1820 Federal Census for William Croghan (highlighted in yellow).  Alfred Croghan may have been one of the eight male enslaved children seen in the census (highlighted in orange).

I have not come across any records of births of enslaved children at Locust Grove.  However, I am pretty confident that Alfred was born in 1820 based on some wonderful photographs I will share in a future post about Alfred.  The census was taken in August of 1820, which means if Alfred was born before August, he is one of the eight enslaved male children living at Locust Grove who were recorded on the census.

Portrait of William Croghan, Jr.
by James Reid Lambdin

The only real glimpse of Alfred’s childhood that we have is a letter written by William Croghan, Jr. to his three year old son, William Croghan III in 1828.  In fact, it is the best account of enslaved children in general that we have and is a treasure trove of information.

“Locust Grove, Fall, 1828

…If you were only here now to see the dear little calves, & the lambs & little pigs – You never saw so many pigs & only to think how you would find the ducks & your eggs.  Little Abe & Al, find the most & Al comes in & says “here old mister here is egg, now give me cake” & then away he runs & then Abe he comes in with his – Little Tommy & Susan live at the river, but they come up here of a Sunday to see us all” –

Little Harvey wants to go with me to Pitts; he says he belong to you.  Little Bob lives in town & is learning to be a barber. He lives with the black Barber than once cut your hair –”…

Excerpt, William Croghan Jr. to his three year old son, William Croghan III  – Locust Grove Manuscripts

Portrait of Mary Croghan Schenley
by James Reid Lambdin

Based on a birth year of 1820 and with no other records pointing to another man around the same age with the same name owned by the Croghans, it is a near certainty that “Al” is an eight year old Alfred Croghan.  It’s an account that shows an exuberant boy who is bold enough to be a bit cheeky with William, Jr.

William Croghan, Jr. inherited Locust Grove from his father in 1822 and continued to live there until the death of his wife in October of 1827.  Devastated by his loss, William and his children moved to Pittsburgh where he could manage his late wife’s estate. He wrote the above letter to his son in Pittsburgh one year after the death of his wife while he was visiting Locust Grove.  

Pittsburgh also became a part of Alfred’s story.  John Abbott met Alfred during a visit to Mammoth Cave in 1854 and shared that “Alfred formerly belonged to Miss Mary Croghan [daughter of William Croghan, Jr.]… After she went to England, she gave Alfred to some of her relatives, and he belonged to Dr. Croghan at the time of his [Dr. Croghan’s] death…”

Being moved to Pittsburgh to serve William’s daughter, Mary, followed by being passed between other members of the Croghan family would have been an experience Alfred shared with other enslaved people owned by the Croghans.  It was a common practice for the Croghans to loan, buy, or sell enslaved people who belonged to their family amongst themselves.

Under the ownership of Dr. John Croghan, William, Jr.’s, oldest brother, Alfred would become one of the enslaved guides of Mammoth Cave. Working alongside the storied Stephen Bishop, Materson Bransford, and Nicholas Bransford, Alfred would leave his own marks at the cave and become a part of it’s history.  And that’s a story for the next blog post, so stay tuned!

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Untangling the Past – Alfred’s Story

 

First person interpreters, Sydney and Xavier portray Rose and Alfred in the hearth kitchen at Historic Locust Grove. (Photo by Heather R. Hiner of Fox and Rose Photography.)

There are several letters in the Croghan family papers that mention an enslaved man named Alfred. These letters span many years and until recently, it was assumed they were all part of the story of one enslaved man.  However, as I started cross referencing the Croghan family letters with documents I had found in other repositories, it quickly became apparent that there were actually two men of different ages being discussed. While untangling the lives of these two men has answered some questions, many more have bubbled to the surface as new, tantalizing details emerge.

This post will share the story of the first of the two men, who was simply known as Alfred.  There are no documents that list a last name for him. Upcoming posts in the series will share the story of a man who did take a last name for himself, Alfred Croghan. The stories of both men give us insight into different roles enslaved men played in the Croghan household while also exposing the lack of control they had over their own lives.

Alfred’s story begins abruptly in May of 1825. While it may change in the future, we currently have no information about Alfred’s life before this time.  He is first mentioned in a letter from Ann Croghan Jesup, who was living in Washington DC, to her mother Lucy Croghan at Locust Grove, near Louisville, Kentucky.  Ann was not the only person from the Croghan household to relocate from Louisville to Washington DC when she married Thomas Sydney Jessup. Leaving behind friends and possibly family, at least three enslaved people owned by the Croghans, including Alfred, also went with Ann to help establish her new household.

An 1828 map of Washington DC. According to the 1827 Washington Directory, the Jesups lived on I Street, NW between 16th and 17th streets. Ann relates in a letter that the Jesups lived close enough to the President’s House to be able to see it from their home. (De Krafft, F. C, W. I Stone, and John Brannan. Map of the city of Washington. [Washington, D.C.?: John Brannan, 1828] Map. Retrieved from the Library of Congress])
Our first reference to Alfred is tantalizingly small, but we can still glean some of his personality from it.

“Old Mrs. Calhoun has been here, no kind of wether stops her, I don’t know which she talked most about her Methodist coachman who has run away and gone she thinks to New York “the cunning fellow to wate until his new cloth were finished & then march off with himself” – or her grand daughter that is a month old today “tis a wonderful fine child” I had a mind to ask as Alfred did, “if she was cutting teeth” the one before this is six weeks younger than Lucy Ann, & is not near so large nor can’t walk one step.” (Ann Croghan Jesup to Lucy Croghan, May 19, 1825, Croghan Family Letters – Filson Historical Society)

A letter mentioning Alfred dated May 19, 1825. (Croghan Family Letters – Filson Historical Society)

Ann, the proud mother of Lucy Ann, seems to enjoy Alfred’s sarcastic response to the doting grandmother proudly expounding upon (and possibly exaggerating) the qualities of her latest grandchild. However, there is always a line that could not be crossed and while it doesn’t seem to be an issue here, this may ultimately play a hand in Alfred’s fate.

The 1830 Federal Census reveals a free white woman, four free persons of color, and two enslaved people shouldered the domestic work in the Jesup household. Because Alfred was moved back and forth between the Croghan and Jesup households, it is not known if the enslaved man listed in the census in 1830 is Alfred or another man named David.

A short four months later, we find Alfred back in Louisville and Lucy Croghan is visiting her daughter, Ann, in Washington DC.  While she is away, Lucy’s eldest son, Dr. John Croghan is overseeing things at Locust Grove. Ever the dutiful son, Dr. Croghan includes news of how things are going at home in a letter to Ann’s husband, Thomas Sidney Jesup.

“Inform her [Lucy Croghan] that every thing goes on here exceedingly well. The women have dried a great deal of fruit, and are at their houses spinning wool or cotton or something of that kind. Old Nanny officiates for me in the cooking department. Two churns are going daily. Alfred goes to market almost every day & gives the profits to Larriway.” (John Croghan to Thomas Sidney Jesup, Sept. 8, 1825 – Locust Grove Manuscript Collection)

We don’t know why Alfred was back in Kentucky, but it was a common occurance to move enslaved people between Croghan family members.  We can glean from this letter that Dr. Croghan trusted Alfred enough to carry goods to be sold in town and transport the profits from selling those goods.

What happens next is still a mystery to be solved and Alfred’s story ends as abruptly as it began.  Nine years of his life passes without documentation and what we do have is frustratingly only a small part of the story.  The final two letters we have show us that Alfred is back in Washington DC with Ann Croghan Jesup and her family.

Letter from Dr. John Croghan to Thomas S. Jesup about Alfred. (John Croghan to Thomas S. Jessup, September 29, 1834 – Library of Congress)

“As it respects Alfred I am in hopes that you will that which you deem best.”  (John Croghan to Thomas S. Jessup, September 29, 1834 – Library of Congress)  

We learn that something has happened with Alfred and that Dr. Croghan trusts his brother-in-law’s ability to handle the situation.  Dr. Croghan will quickly send a second letter a few days later, that includes his mother, Lucy’s feelings on the matter.

Instructions from Lucy Croghan to Thomas S. Jesup in regards to the “improper” behavior of Alfred. (Library of Congress)

“…In obedience to your request I send you the enclosed from my Mother in relation to Alfred.  He has acted so improperly that he deserves no quarters…

                                                              Yours truly

                                                                John Croghan

P.S.  Dear General,

By your letter to John I find Alfred is unwilling to return to Ken; I, therefore, have no objection as he evinces so little gratitude, and as his conduct has been so improper to dispose of him.

                                                                    Affectionately yours,

                                                                    Lucy Croghan ”

(John Croghan to Thomas S. Jessup, October 31, 1834 – Library of Congress)  

While I continue to search, we currently have none of the letters or any other records describing what Alfred did that led Lucy Croghan to instruct her son-in-law to “dispose of him.”  We also lack Alfred’s version of the events. The earliest letter referencing him hints at a sarcastic wit, but we currently have no way of knowing what it was that the Croghans found so “improper.”

However, this last letter gives us a prime example of a slave owner, in this case, Lucy Croghan, wielding the threat of selling an enslaved person in an attempt to force him to be grateful and follow her orders.  We can deduce that the Croghans and Jesups felt Alfred should show gratitude for the opportunity to return to Kentucky and possibly be punished in some way once he was there and that they weren’t pleased when he chose not to return to Locust Grove.

Alfred isn’t mentioned in any of the Croghan family letters that we have past this point in time.  While Alfred may have changed his mind about coming back to Kentucky after learning of Lucy Croghan’s willingness to sell him as punishment for his actions, the lack of him being mentioned further hints at the possibility that he was indeed sold.  

While this is all I have to share of Alfred’s story for now, research into his life is ongoing.  I am currently continuing to search for mentions of him in correspondence from and about the Croghans as well as working with the Library of Congress to research Thomas Sidney Jesup’s financial records in an effort to learn if he was indeed sold by General Jesup. If I do uncover anything new, I will be sure to share an update in another post.

 

1825 – An “Out of Time” Event

I’ve had a busy few weeks away from my computer!  My daughter and I enjoyed a girls only trip to Disney World.  My Nikon camera has needed some TLC for a while so I rented a Sony a7iii for the trip which convinced me to make the jump to mirrorless and buy it outright at the end of our vacation. That means I had a good, working camera to take a few quick snaps at an historical event the week we got home.  

Locust Grove Costumed Interpreters enjoying the view during a recent event hosting actress and author Sarah Vowell. Photo Credit Heather R. Hiner

Locust Grove hosted author and actress, Sarah Vowell for a discussion on her book Lafayette and the Somewhat United States along with a dinner to commemorate Lafayette’s 1825 visit to Louisville as part of his national tour.  Unfortunately, I was too busy in the historic home to see Sarah Vowell, but I heard much laughter drifting over from her talk, had a lovely view of the outdoor candlelit dinner, and I always love a chance to hang out with some of my favorite costumed interpreters. As I said earlier, it also gave me a chance to try out my new camera in the often tricky light of the often dark historic home.

We seem to average at least one event a year where the interpreters have a chance to step out of our normal timeframe of 1816.  It’s often a fun opportunity to step into a new role or new clothes from time to time and it can also help everything stay fresh and enjoyable for everyone.  It’s also one of the very rare times when the normally strict costuming guidelines might be relaxed a little.

Hannah made both the beautiful 1825 gown she is wearing as well as the 1825 coat for her husband, Brandon. Photo Credit Heather R. Hiner

Interpreters playing primary roles at these “out of time” events usually make, purchase, or borrow a new outfit that would fall in line with the normal costume standards of the program, only for the new year being portrayed.  If the special event only requires a very small number of interpreters or if the year is drastically out of our norm, then the program may revolve around a reduced cast dressed appropriately for the new time period.

Our lovely theatrical director in an 1825 gown she finished for the event. Photo Credit Heather R. Hiner

However, there are times when a larger cast is needed to make the event a success and this is when the guidelines may be a little softer than usual.  For the most part, the costumed interpreter program at Locust Grove is a volunteer effort. Not only do interpreters volunteer their time for meetings, rehearsals, and events, in most cases, they also provide their own historically accurate clothing.  Some sew their own outfits and others pay to have clothes made according the costuming standards of the program. For some, it can be a fun chance to make something new while other cast members may not want to pay for materials or labor to have an outfit made that they may only wear once, which is understandable.

Heather and first time interpreter, Kristie in lightly modified 1816 gowns for the event. Photo Credit Heather R. Hiner

In cases where the one time event is somewhat close to 1816 and it also requires a larger cast, we relax the standards in an effort  to keep it affordable for our volunteer interpreters. What usually happens is the most important roles are costumed to the new time period as much as possible.  Supporting cast members wear their approved 1816 clothing modified as much as they can be with the understanding that it’s not going to be perfect. So for a woman going from 1816 to 1825, she might add an extra petticoat and lower the sash on her gown.  It’s not going to produce an accurate 1825 look, but it is usually enough to blend in while most eyes are on the appropriately dressed members of the cast who may be in the spotlight more than everyone else.

Interpreters representing members of the Bullitt family in 1825. Sisters Eloise, Mary Ann, (mother) Diana, and Ann Bullitt. I have a soft spot for the Bullitt ladies so I am always happy when they make an appearance. Photo Credit Heather R. Hiner.

In a perfect world, we would have the funding to dress everyone down to historically accurate buttons at every event as our interpreters work quite hard to be as accurate as possible.  However, this compromise does work on the rare occasions we need it to.

Feel free to follow The Past in Focus on Facebook for updates or my Instagram for my portrait work along with some of the photos from my recent Disney trip and additional images of Hannah and Brandon that I will be sharing over the next few weeks!

 

The Staircase

My daughter portraying Miss Mary Bullitt in 2016 at Historic Locust Grove.

There is something incredibly rewarding about taking multiple things you are passionate about and combining them.  While I had been a photographer for a while before my family started volunteering at Historic Locust Grove, it was there where everything meshed together and my love of historically inspired portraiture was born. For me, there’s a bit of magic in using modern technology and careful research to create an image that brings the past to life and makes it feel more real. Toss in one of my children as the subject, and you get an image that tugs at my heartstrings and remains one of my favorite portraits that I have ever taken.

One of the best things about this portrait is that it was a pure moment of serendipity.  For the most part, I don’t go “behind the ropes” when there are costumed interpreter events in the historic house.  I don’t want to ruin the atmosphere the interpreters work so hard to create by standing in the middle of them with a digital camera.  

I had made a rare exception and slipped into the back of the farm office to get some images of the interpreters interacting with guests during the 2016 Christmastide event. I had gotten a few shots I wasn’t fully happy with when I heard someone coming down the staircase at the back of the room.  That back staircase is a bit steep so it’s really only used by interpreters during events to help keep the traffic flow less congested on the main staircase that’s used by guests.

There also happens to be a nice sized window at the bottom curve of the steps that makes for a pretty pocket of light against the gorgeous verdigris door on the landing. So when I heard footsteps, I quickly turned 90 degrees and changed my settings in the hopes of getting something interesting.  I was thrilled when it turned out to be my daughter that appeared in that pretty pool of light.

I love everything in this picture. I love the delicious natural light. While I admit I may be biased, I genuinely think that’s prettiest verdigris I have ever seen.  I couldn’t have captured a sweeter expression on her face even if I had actually staged the shot. I adore the block printed fabric of her dress. I love the little details and the frozen moment in time. I even love it down to my husband’s dancing slippers tucked away on one of the steps.

 

Wait, You Do This For Free?!

My son giving a house tour to a guest. Photo credit: Jason Hiner

As a docent and a “time ambassador” (more about that in a later post), I go out of my way to let visitors know that the vast majority of the people they interact with when they visit Historic Locust Grove are volunteers.  When my family first started volunteering there about eight years ago, there were four full time staff members and a handful of part time staff. As I am writing this, there are now six full time staff members. Add in the part time and seasonal staff and the total number of people working there is still less than 20.  This small, but mighty group of people obviously play important roles and we are all thankful for what they do day in and day out make the site what it is.

Still, I often let guests know that most of us are out there donating our time.  Now, I’m not angling for a pat on the back when I share that particular tidbit. The simple truth is, that like many historic sites, Locust Grove could not function without a healthy volunteer corps. I want guests to know that so much is accomplished simply because a group of people that love history in general and the site in particular help make it happen. As Locust Grove’s program director, Brian Cushing, has said, “the site exists because the community wants it to.”  

My children helping Locust Grove Program Director, Brian Cushing, plant corn in the garden.

One of the great things about volunteering is that there’s something for everyone.  A small sampling of the ways people help out at the Grove includes gardening, working with school field trips, baking, cleaning, working in the gift shop, demonstrating historic trades, directing traffic, and working concessions. Those are just a portion of the roles people fill.  Within my own family, we have sewed, researched, taught historic games, docented, created student programing, been on trash patrol, helped with the admissions gate, taken photos, and participated as costumed interpreters, among other things. And we have some pretty fun adventures I am looking forward to sharing.

Since researchers tend to love some concrete facts and numbers, I have a few to share with you. According to Mary Beth Williams, the curator of Collections & Education, 131 volunteers recorded a total of 11,822 volunteer hours in 2017. This is the part where I direct you to the word “recorded.”  The truth is that sometimes, people forget to record their hours which means the real number is actually higher.

But let’s run with the official number for a minute.  It varies by state, but Kentucky values volunteer work at $21.38 an hour.  If you do the math, that comes to an in-kind contribution with a value of $252,754.  Those hours really add up!

My daughter demonstrating the historic trade of butter making.

It’s not just the monetary value that’s important, either.  Being able to show volunteer and community support can help a site secure grants and other outside funding that help make programing possible.  The more volunteers and hours logged, the easier it is to secure funding. And that finding can be critical. I’m going to let you in a little secret about why that’s so important.  Most historic sites don’t get government funding. Many run on a very tight budget and depend on donations to keep the doors open. For some sites, a grant could make or break their ability to offer certain kinds of programing to the public.

Keeping all of this in mind, I can’t encourage people enough to consider volunteering for an organization that is near and dear to their hearts.  Obviously, historic sites are my soft spot, but it can be your local science center, a museum, the zoo, an arts program, or a myriad other worthy causes.  It’s a chance to use your unique skills to make an impact on an organization that’s important to you and get as much, if not more, than what you give.

 

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The Responsibility of Someone Else’s Story

When trying to decide on what to share first, I kept going back to something I posted on my personal Facebook page a few months ago.  In the spirit of not filling my friend’s feeds with a great wall of text, I tried to pare my thoughts down as much as possible and it was still a lot for a medium that isn’t necessarily set up for sharing thoughts that are more appropriate for a blog.  As more and more of my research projects have led to a desire to share what I have found along with my thoughts on the process of unearthing facts from the past and how they translate to life today, I have finally decided to give them a more proper home here.  And since this was the post that got the ball rolling, I feel it is only appropriate to expand upon and share that original Facebook post here.

While I plan to post on a wide array of subjects, this particular project, researching the enslaved people that belonged to Croghan family of Historic Locust Grove, may be the most important research I have ever done and as such will appear quite a bit here.  I am very proud to be a volunteer at a site where bringing these stories to the forefront is a priority.

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Today, I begin to organize and expand on the research on the enslaved people of Locust Grove that I have have been doing off and on for the past two years. I find myself in a different mindset than I usually am when I tackle research. Normally, I’m energized and very focused when I settle into a research project. There’s a sense of satisfaction when I turn up something new and expand on someone’s story. I get very excited when I discover something that allows us to relate to and empathize with someone from the past. I still feel those things, but this time, there are other feelings, too.

Stone from the remains of a slave cabin at Historic Locust Grove.

I feel a greater need to turn over every stone and pebble, to find the tiniest of facts. There are so few that no matter how small, they are all significant. I find my heart heavier at times as I try to grapple with understanding lives lived that I can never fully comprehend because their experiences were so different from mine. There’s a desire to fill in the gaps and give agency and voice to these people who had so little of it in their lifetimes and who were often silenced or ignored by history. There’s anger at how the details of their lives were recorded by others and frustration on the scarcity of information available. And there’s hope, hope that I can somehow do justice to their memories, to their struggles and triumphs, and to the lives they lived.

There’s also a weight to the process.  It weighs on me.  How do I properly share someone else’s story?  Can I do justice to them? There’s concern if my self taught research skills are enough to fully convey someone’s existence that was so very different from my own.  In the end, I always circle back to the idea that something done in the spirit of love and service to another is worthwhile in spite of the fact that I am still learning the best ways to research and share.  It also drives me to keep learning how to convey these stories in a better way.

Remains of a tree growing on the foundation of a slave cabin at Historic Locust Grove.

And there’s also a beautiful solemnity to the process. This past spring, I photographed the ruins of the foundation of the slave cabin in the woods at Historic Locust Grove so they have a visual record of it’s current condition. As I was trying to figure out which pictures I needed to take, I also found myself reflecting on who might have lived there. Who from my list of names made this their home? Was this Charlotte’s house, or maybe this is where Criss lived? Or could this be the abode of Hannah, Isaac, Alfred, or someone whose name was never recorded? Who cooked meals here, raised their children, rested after a long day’s labor? We don’t know and it’s possible we never will.

But we do know this: There’s no slave cemetery at Locust Grove. We have some theories and guesses about the final resting places of these people, but ultimately, we just don’t know for sure. That, of course, is it’s own kind of indignity when you look at the family graveyard so carefully preserved. Was the “child of Beaty”, who died from bilious fever in the fall of 1832, buried in an unmarked grave outside the boundary of the family cemetery as was often the case, or was this unnamed child laid to rest somewhere else on the property?  It’s a mystery that may never be solved.

But I do know this: enslaved people lived their lives and worked to carve out their own space on the site of that cabin foundation. They existed in that space and the simple act of naming their names, of standing where they stood and remembering them is a spiritual act of remembrance.

Remains of the foundation of a slave cabin at Historic Locust Grove.

As I moved around the space, trying to find the angles to properly record the building’s remains, I couldn’t help but feel the presence of those who lived there over 200 years ago.  Standing by myself, among the scattered stones in the quiet woods, I was struck that it was a very sacred space.  And so I left my own stone, my own token of remembrance, just like I do when I visit a grave. There may not be a slave cemetery, but this space was more their’s than most on the property and it just felt right to honor their passing there, where they had lived.

How I felt as I recorded the site has become an overriding reminder of why I do this and it does add to the weight of it all. How do I do right by these people who were marginalized during their lifetimes and forgotten after their deaths? Ultimately, I know I can never fully give them the justice they deserve and that the best I can do is to gather what we have and hopefully find a few new details to fill in the narratives of their lives. And so I organize, and search, and dig, and hope I do well by them.  I share their names and their stories and honor their memories in doing so.