The Museum Division was recently contacted about a potential donation involving seven Native American headdresses. The donor’s husband had been the funeral director for a funeral home in Garrison, ND, for forty years. The headdresses were given to him as thank you gifts from the families of the deceased.

Because these headdresses are excellent examples of contemporary Native American regalia (of which the State Historical Society has very few), our Museum Collections Committee decided to accept all of them. However, since Native American headdresses from the Northern Plains often include eagle feathers, we needed to consider the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act of 1940. In a nutshell, this Federal law states that it is illegal to be in possession of any part of a bald or golden eagle unless you have a permit, or unless the eagle was collected before the legislation was enacted. If you are in possession of a bald eagle or parts of a bald eagle, you need to have proof of ownership prior to1940. If you are in possession of a golden eagle or parts of a golden eagle, you need to have proof of ownership prior to 1962.

In this case, the donor of the seven headdresses did not know for sure whether they contained eagle feathers, nor did she know from whom the headdresses came. Without a clear provenance (history of ownership) we knew the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s Migratory Bird Permit Office would not grant us an exhibition permit for any of the headdresses containing eagle parts, including feathers. Special Agent Kevin Downs of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service was contacted to identify the feathers in the headdresses by reviewing photographs from the donor. Based on the photos, he believed only one of the headdresses contained real eagle feathers, while the others were probably painted or dyed to have the appearance of immature golden eagle tail feathers (white feathers with black tips). In light of his findings, we requested that Special Agent Downs be present when the donor delivered the headdresses to the North Dakota Heritage Center & State Museum for an official positive identification of eagle parts.

Downs was able to determine that six of the seven headdresses were likely made of dyed turkey feathers, and one was made from immature bald eagle feathers. The Museum Division happily accepted the six non-eagle headdresses into the collections. The donor decided to surrender the headdress containing eagle feathers to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. It will be sent to the Eagle Repository in Denver, CO, http://www.fws.gov/eaglerepository/. The feathers will be redistributed pursuant to their policies.

Complying with federal regulations such as the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act is just one of the things the Museum Collections Committee takes into consideration before accepting artifacts into the Museum Division’s collection.

If you are like me, you think that software, as a general topic of discussion, is boring. Few people interested in history and anthropology are drawn to blog posts about software (notice that I didn’t include it in my title, for fear of you abandoning me before I could get a word in edgewise). But what if that software allowed you (literally, you) access to our collections from exactly where you are sitting right now? What if it connected close-up photos of artifacts directly with that object’s records? What if it made collections research more possible, allowed us to put together exhibits much more easily, and allowed us to search across multiple collections at once?

Each of our divisions currently manages its collections in separate types of programs and databases. For example, a researcher interested in Fort Clark would currently have to come to the Archaeology and Historic Preservation Division to search separate databases/shelves for artifacts and excavation notes. Then she would go to the Archives Division to search for historical records and photos associated with the site. Then she might want to check with the Museum Division to see if there are historical objects that relate to the site but were not found archaeologically.

We are happy to report that this wild goose chase is all about to change!

Example of an artifact record after our customizations were implemented. All the fields you see correspond directly to either a field that was already in our existing databases or a field we always wished we had.

The SHSND has recently purchased Re:discovery, software designed specifically for museum collections management. Why is this important? Managing any collection requires us to have updated and easy-to-access information about each object. An artifact record might include where it came from (i.e., Double Ditch Indian Village), where on the site it was found (i.e., “floor level, House 4”) who donated it, its function, its condition, its characteristics, pictures, etc. Under the direction of our astonishingly patient and meticulous IT administrator (whom must secretly feel that working with historians who cling fiercely to ten almost-identical versions of the same database because they are afraid to throw anything away is maddening), we are implementing this software in phases. Our AHP Division was the first up, and here is how it went down:

1. First we had to create our artifact record screens. Re:discovery has a standard one already, but some of the fields did not work for our data. So we requested customizations. We wanted the names of certain fields changed, we wanted certain fields to only allow certain entries, we wanted dates formatted a certain way, and so on. This was made more complicated by the fact that we curate for federal agencies, which have their own database entry requirements. To keep everything organized, we created a “mapping document” that accommodated all SHSND required fields, all federally required fields, and were formatted to receive our existing data in ways that would not create a huge mess or data loss. This process took several months of making requests and corresponding with Re:discovery to figure out what was possible.
    
2. Screens customized and approved! Time to move on to data conversion. This just means that we had to move the artifact data we have put in a bunch of disparate Access databases over the years into a single directory in Re:discovery. Let’s be honest – this was a nightmare. As with most institutions, people entered different types of data in different ways over time. So in one database, for instance, the location information (i.e., Excavation Unit 10) might be in a field called “location,” and in another database for a different collection, it might be in a Description field. So you can’t just say “all Description data in our Access fields can be migrated into the Description field in Rediscovery” (because you want location data in your fancy new Location field). So you have to reconcile all those discrepancies before you can migrate data. And we are talking tens of thousands of records. We also had to make decisions about what information got moved and what could be dropped. For example, some collections staff would write their thoughts in the Description field, like “I have never seen one of these before” (Is this really informative and worth saving?). In some cases the entry to describe the object tells you more about the context of its use rather than its function. For example, instead of calling a military button a “button” in the Object field, it said “Military” – not ideal when you want to search your database for buttons! This phase forced us to make some standardizations and changes in our cataloging procedures. I definitely had moments where I felt like we were in an endless loop of adjusting and converting our data, and maybe I just had to accept that this was what the rest of my life was going to be…
   
   A list view in Re:discovery. Instead of viewing individual artifact records, you can scroll through lists of artifact records, all of which can be filtered by whichever fields will give you the info you need (i.e., I can search for all artifacts from the Larson Village site, or all the bone beads from Larson Village, or all the scapula hoes from Larson, Boley, and Sperry Villages. The search options are endless, which brings tears (of unabashed joy) to my eyes.
    
3. At last, data converted! But we couldn’t just assume it all migrated perfectly. We had to check the data conversion to make sure data migrated safely and was not lost. This amounted to tens of thousands of records, and checking each one individually was not possible. Instead, we calculated a statistically representative sample for each database, which means we ended up checking about 200 to 300 randomly selected records for each one (amounting to about 1000 entries). We compared every field (thirty or so) from the old database with those in the new and noted any inconsistencies, formatting weirdness, mix-ups, etc. Any problems we found in the conversion we communicated back to the IT administrator and Re:discovery project manager, who adjusted the program or data as needed.
   
   
   Some artifacts we have recently entered into our new system – stone scrapers, a historic bottle, and a pottery sherd from the Woodland period decorated with a cord-wrapped stick.
    
4. Home stretch! Last steps were to set permissions for which staff can access or modify the data, document problems with our own data that this process helped us to discover, and get formal training on how to use the program.

As of last month, we began actively cataloging multiple archaeological collections, attaching digital photos of artifacts, geeking out on the program’s functions, and forcibly stopping ourselves from doing cartwheels in the lab from excitement that we can now do this work in one place so efficiently. Next up is the Archives Division, followed by the Museum Division. After that, we will work on getting the Web Module up and running so the public can search our collections online, complete with images. Our goal is to bring the collections to you. You can see for yourself all the objects we are preserving, without having to leave the comfort of wherever you are sitting right now. Stay tuned!

For many years, the Chateau de Mores State Historic Site has largely downplayed some of the more controversial aspects of the de Mores story, namely the Marquis’s anti-Semitism. Most of this comes from the fact that the Marquis’ anti-Semitism seems to have manifested itself after the family left Medora in 1886. From the beginning, the site has focused mainly on telling the story of the family’s life in Dakota Territory. However, as the years have passed and with the last of the family gone, the site has become the repository for the full history of the de Mores family. Because of this, our interpretive duties have evolved to tell their post-Dakota Territory story as well.

A photo of the Marquis taken in France in 1889 during his political years.

It is important that while we do not shy away from discussing uncomfortable topics like anti-Semitism, we need to be careful about how we address it. This begins with proper training for all site employees. The interpreters need to be ready and able to talk to the visitors about what happened to the family after they closed the house for the final time in 1886. This naturally means the Marquis’s duels, political career, and death, much of which revolved around his anti-Semitic rhetoric and beliefs. After the Marquis returned to France, he became involved in politics. He supported anti-Semitic candidates and often spoke at rallies. The Marquis was also a frequent contributor to several anti-Semitic journals. An article in one of these journals led to one of the most famous episodes in the Marquis’s short life, his duel with Camille Dreyfus. Dreyfus, a Jewish government official, wrote an article in the journal La Nation attacking the Marquis’ anti-Semitism. The Marquis promptly challenged Dreyfus to a duel. Dreyfus accepted, and the duel took place on Feb. 3, 1890. Neither the Marquis nor Dreyfus was seriously hurt in the duel, but the Marquis shot Dreyfus in the arm, winning the duel. The Marquis’s death can also be viewed as an extension of his anti-Semitic activities. The Marquis’s reason for being in North Africa was to unite the Muslims against the Jews and their “British puppets.” It is ironic he was killed by the very Muslim tribesmen he was trying to recruit.

These are topics we address but do not dwell upon. However, the interpreter must be able to discuss the topic further if asked. It is the job of the site supervisor and assistant site supervisor, in spring training and morning meeting discussions to prepare the interpreter to speak intelligently and with sensitivity. Store employees, usually the first ones to interact with a visitor, must be as able as any interpreter to answer questions.

Technology has opened up new ways to enhance and add information to the tours. The site is currently using QR codes in several locations in the Chateau. This technology is inexpensive and easy to create. The possibilities with QR codes are almost limitless, providing graphics, text, and audio/visual resources on the visitor’s cell phone without intruding on others’ tour experiences. This allows topics like anti-Semitism to be addressed in a more in-depth way for those desiring additional information. Another technology the site uses is our eight-minute video. This free video is used at the interpretive center to provide some context for understanding the history of the site and the de Mores family. The video also discusses the Marquis’ background and personality, providing further background for the controversial views he expressed later in life. The video can be updated as we see fit. This is important because the video may be the only site information source for visitors.

As museums and historic sites become more willing to address darker issues in the past, sites like the Chateau have examples and advice for how best to open the door on these subjects. If done carefully and sensitively, confronting the more unsavory aspects of a historic site can lead to a more complete understanding of our past.

Microfilm. Microfiche. If you work in a museum, archives, or library, or have researched in enough museums, archives, or libraries, you are most likely very familiar with different types of microform. However, you may also be part of an ever-growing group of people unfamiliar with the material or even the word(s). Microform may be an older format, but it is both historic in its own development and highly useful for documenting and preserving items for the future, and should not be underrated.

In very basic terms, microform is a miniaturized, reproduced image of an item. (Makes sense, right?) We take something flat, like newspaper or a journal, and photograph each page. Microfilm is developed on photographic film that wraps around reels (and is the form we typically use), and microfiche is developed on a flat sheet. These items can then be used on readers, printers, and scanners, which work by shining light on the image and projecting it out at a larger size.

Microfilm is reel-based, like this old roll. A roll of microfilm can hold a lot. One roll can hold a month’s worth of a daily newspaper, such as The Fargo Forum or The Bismarck Tribune; perhaps two years of a weekly paper; multiple small manuscript collections; or several volumes of naturalization or marriage records.

In this world of touch-screen, high-speed internet tech, this may seem old fashioned. Okay, so it kind of is. Microform was actually developed in the mid-1800s, and was considered something of a novelty at first. The State Historical Society of North Dakota only began microfilming newspapers and other frequently used and/or fragile items in the 1950s. We are still microfilming today. This is evident in our Reading Room, where we have more than 16,000 rolls available for public use. The majority of this number encompasses newspapers from around the state, naturalization records, small manuscript collections, and an ever-increasing count of marriage records from various counties, pre-1925. We have masters to most of this film and other microform within collections stored away in more controlled environments.

Microfiche like this is a flat sheet. Each square represents a frame of film, which will include one image—in this instance, a page of The Grand Forks and North Dakota Manual for 1885.

Microfilm is not going away anytime soon. There are many reasons why. Microfilming allows us to capture a copy of an original that likely is in the process of deteriorating without handling it and possibly making it worse. It is relatively low cost to produce, maintain, and store; equipment needed to access microfilm is simple enough to use (really, all you need is some light and a method of magnification); the material is supposed to last hundreds of years; and the format is stable. The alternative, a more up-to-date digital file, can indeed be easy to access on the technology so many use on a daily basis—but takes time and money to digitize and store, requires vigilance in the case of updates and reformatting, and has an unknown (and possibly, in some cases, short) shelf-life. Also, it is noteworthy that digital items are not automatically OCR (optical character recognition)-capable. (That means you can’t necessarily search documents by key word, just because they are scanned.) For all of these reasons and more, many agencies continue to use microform for storing and accessing their files. This includes, or perhaps is led by, the National Archives and Records Administration, which succinctly highlights these very comments on its site.

You can see by the condition of our microfilm boxes that they take a lot of use. Is microform the next Holy Grail?

Despite the fact that we use microfilm all the time, in my front-desk capacity at the State Archives, I meet a lot of people who don’t. They run the gamut of ages, but there is definitely an upward tick in the younger age groups. I like to try to explain things in terms that make sense to people. I got pretty excited when I saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull for the first time—for no other reason than our hero was trying to obtain microform in one of the scenes. It’s my overwhelming memory of the film, which perhaps says something about the film—I’ll allow you to draw your own conclusions there—and it has led me to reference the film with certain age groups who enter our building.

Me: Hello, students who were not yet born in time to remember Y2K or 9/11!
Students: (mumble, mumble, mumble)
Me: So, do any of you know what microfilm is?
Students: (blank stares)
Me: Have any of you seen Indiana Jones? (Pause as students raise hands.) The last one? With the Crystal Skull?
Students: The first one is my favorite!/I just saw (insert latest move here)!/I liked that one!/I didn’t like that one!/etc.
Me: Remember when he was in the library? (Trying to disguise the fact that I barely remember that scene anymore, except to use it for this purpose, and hold up a disheveled little box as if it’s the greatest treasure on Earth.) This is what he was after! Microfilm!
Students: (Mixed reactions…perhaps not as excited as I am.)

Then I show them how it works. Just like movie magic, it’s actually seeing the microfilm on screen (in this case, on a microfilm reader/printer/scanner) that produces the best response. Once the film is loaded, and people of all ages find their own birth announcements, their great-grandfather’s naturalization record, a picture of their mother or father on the front page of a newspaper… it’s worth it.

The old technology of microfilm printers like this one was cutting edge back in the day; it is still useful, but does not offer the same options as the new types of machines.

That’s the miracle. It’s not the microform itself, but that we have something that can offer us such stability, and that we thus have the capabilities of making these items so accessible. The miracle is being able to use this format.

We recently acquired these modern microfilm scanners. They work on the computer and provide the user with more flexibility in making copies. They also can scan to a USB drive, which some researchers prefer to the older ones, which only print out paper.

Another series of bones are being slowly added to the State Fossil collection. Concordia College in Moorhead, MN, held one of the largest collections of Edmontosaurus (“duck-billed” dinosaur – same kind of animal as “Dakota the Dinomummy”) bones in the country. Dr. Ron Nellermoe, who recently retired from a position of teaching biology and geology at the school, worked on a quarry of Edmontosaurus in South Dakota for over ten years. During that time, thousands of fossils were collected, many with beautiful preservation. This collection of fossils is where I got my start – my real start – in paleontology.

I had spent the last five years preparing Green River Formation fossil fish from Wyoming, so I wasn’t totally new to the time and patience needed for fossils. It was the spring of 1998; my grandmother had spotted an ad in the local paper about a “communiversity” course being offered on dinosaurs and fossils. I wanted to jump at the chance, but I had already watched one opportunity vanish. Two years prior, my aunt let me know about a dig in Wyoming – BUT – you had to be 15 to go. I waited a year, only to find out the dig had shut down. Now at 16, I wanted more than anything to go on this dig, but we weren’t sure if they would allow a high school student along.

My family contacted the school, and thus Dr. Nellermoe. He wasn’t thrilled about the idea of a 16-year-old girl going along. -Somehow they convinced him and assured him that an adult would accompany me on site. I was in! The spring was spent volunteering in the paleontology lab, learning how to clean and identify bones, and reading every paleontological reference book I could. Summer finally hit, and I dove into digging. I pulled my weight, probably asked way too many questions, kept a journal, and soaked up as much as I could. Meanwhile my Mom painted the local landscape.

Pages from the first field journals Becky took at the Concordia Edmontosaurus quarry.

Fall hit – I was back volunteering in the lab. This kept up for the next two years until I finally could officially enroll at Concordia College. By this point, I transitioned my volunteering to work study and obtained one of my favorite job descriptions ever: bone technician.

Becky hiding from the summer sun. OR A young Becky on site. OR both.

After Concordia, I continued my schooling at NDSU, using the Edmontosaurus collection as the basis for my Master’s degree. Eventually graduating and moving to Bismarck, I had to wave a fond farewell to the collection and professors that played such a large part in getting me to where I was. Then a few years later – a phone call. The science buildings at Concordia were undergoing a massive renovation, and there would be no room for bones. Would the State Fossil collection in Bismarck make a good home?

Long story short, we’re in the process of transferring the collection – I get the chance to continue working with the bones that started me on my way.

Plastered and finished bones moved to the State Fossil collection so far.

When people find out I’m an archivist, I am often greeted with a very puzzled look and usually another question—like, “What’s that?”

On any day, you can find me processing collections of documents, records, photographs, or moving image materials. As archivists, one of our main priorities is to make sure items are stored and organized properly in order to maintain the longest record life possible. In this blog, I’ll discuss processing a large manuscript collection that includes all of these items.

Over the past year, I and other archivists at the State Historical Society picked up personal papers, research, and records belonging to Frank Vyzralek, North Dakota’s first state archivist. Vyzralek was a passionate historian who researched a great variety of topics in relation to North Dakota such as baseball, beer, the city of Bismarck, crime, mills and elevators, places in North Dakota, railroads, and steamboats.

When Vyzralek’s donation arrived at the State Archives, almost 400 feet of boxes contained loose papers, photographs, and audiovisual materials. We had to determine how to best organize and store this valuable collection.

The first step we took was to establish series for the different materials. In the archives world, a series is a group of similar records. The series we decided on were Research Files, Personal Papers, Photographs, and Audiovisual Materials. Within the series, we then created subseries and sub subseries that reflected the topics and types of records with each series.

Processed records from the Mill & Elevator Sub Subseries alphabetized and dated in archival folders

After the series, subseries, and sub subseries were established, we began the preliminary sorting. Most of the time, each box contained many different topics and types of records in no particular order. Along with the paper items, some boxes even had different types of artifacts like matchbooks and other collectables. These items will be offered to the Museum Division, because they are three-dimensional. This part of the processing took my colleague and I about three months to complete.

Newspaper clippings regarding mills and elevators in Burleigh County in chronological order

When we finished with the preliminary sort, we began a more in-depth process, where we tackled each subseries, organizing the records by location or chronologically. Vyzralek liked to use newspaper clippings in his research. For one sub subseries, for example Mills and Elevators, it took some time to organize the thousands of newspaper clippings in a way that would be useful to researchers who will use Vyzralek’s papers in the future. After eight months of alphabetizing and organizing chronologically, this part of the processing was complete. During this stage, we came across a few live bugs and spiders. It added some excitement (and screams) to the process.

Processing in progress on photographs

Once we were finished with the paper records, we began to process the photographs Vyzralek took or collected. Again, we had to decide how to organize the photographs in a way that would create the best accessibility for researchers. We thought it would be best to organize the photographs by those Vyzralek used for research and those that related to his personal life, such as family and school photos. Just as we did with papers, we organized the photographs by location and date. Topics in the research photos include railroad depots, postcards, aerials of towns, churches, breweries, and other buildings in North Dakota.

Hundreds of floppy disks from the Frank Vyzralek Collection

Vyzralek stored much of his research on floppy disks, which will also be in his collection. However, floppy disks are now obsolete. As we process the physical papers, we also have to harvest the files of his research off the floppy disks to make sure the digital files are accessible to researchers, too. This entails finding a floppy disk drive, scanning for viruses, and ensuring there are no changes to the file during the processing of the digital files. Digital files provide more accessibility to the collection.

We are still processing the Frank Vyzralek Collection, but it will be finished in spring 2016. Once processing is complete, there will be a finding aid available on our website (http://history.nd.gov/archives/manuscripts/inventory/10553.html) for researchers to use. This is just one of many rich collections of North Dakota history that can be researched in the State Archives.