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100 Years at the Utah Historical Society Part IV

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Miriam B. Murphy and publications coordinator Stanford J. Layton launching Beehive History in 1975.

* Continued from Part III

One of the defining moments in Utah historic preservation came when Powell presented a carefully prepared nomination of the Martin Millerich Hall in Spring Glen to the Historic Sites Committee Although a physically unimpressive structure, the hall had played a dramatic role in Carbon County labor history Built by striking Yugoslavian miners in 1922, it had also been the headquarters of the National Miners Union during the 1933 strike "That was just full of all kinds of good history for me," Powell reminisced, but the committee initially thought otherwise When "I presented that to the review committee and flashed the picture of this ugly building on the screen," he continued, one of the members who was accustomed to entertaining nominations of sites like the Kearns and McCune mansions burst out, "That's the ugliest building I've ever seen." The nomination was turned down Eventually, though, through the efforts of committee members like J. Eldon Dorman of Price, the vision of the committee broadened somewhat and the nomination was accepted.142

In 1971 Utah State University offered Peterson a faculty position that included directorship of the Man and His Bread Museum and eventual editorship of the Western Historical Quarterly. Like Cooley, Peterson saw professional advantages in academia that the Historical Society would never be able to equal Time has vindicated his decision, for the USU position gave him the research support that enabled him to become one of the most highly respected western historians.

Peterson was succeeded by Melvin T Smith who, like Peterson, had rural origins that affected his personal style and even in the thrust of some of his programs Smith was born to a family of Mormon pioneers in the Big Horn Basin of northern Wyoming. A boyhood spent coping with the harsh imperatives of that environment left its impress on the man. Beneath his rugged good looks and lean physique were an equally tough intellect and an uncompromising integrity—his greatest assets and also the seeds of his downfall in the compromising world of academic politics and government bureaucracy.

Smith became infatuated with history as a young man and majored in that field at the University of Wyoming. During his doctoral program at Brigham Young University, he worked with the famous western historian LeRoy R. Hafen and produced a massive dissertation on the history of the Colorado River below the Grand Canyon—perhaps the single most impressive piece of research on river history ever accomplished. While completing his doctoral work, Smith taught at Dixie College where he soon found himself unable to support the administration of President Ferron Lossee and welcomed the chance to take over the Historical Society's fledgling preservation program. 143

The Smith years (1971-86) saw unprecedented growth in the Society, with a greatly expanded staff and new programs. For one thing, the presence of Jesse D.Jennings on the Historic Sites Review Committee ensured that the state's preservation program included prehistoric sites as well as historic buildings. That, and increasing concern over vandalism of prehistoric sites, led to the creation of an Antiquities Section at the Society under the direction of David B.

Madsen, who was acquiring a national reputation as an expert on Great Basin prehistory The section later included a paleontology program under James H. Madsen, Jr., and occasionally undertook historic archaeology in conjunction with the Preservation Section.144

The increasing federal funds available for historic preservation caused that section to grow faster than any other program at the Society Architects and architectural historians like Allen Roberts, Larry Jones, Karl Haglund, Thomas Carter, and Charles Shepherd capitalized on the lead taken by Kent Powell in creating historic districts, both in Salt Lake City and in rural communities, that included a strong emphasis on folk architecture. Researchers like John McCormick, Roger Roper, and Philip Notarianni helped establish the historical context for sites nominated. Finally, administrators like Wilson Martin and Barbara Murphy established procedures by which owners of historic sites could qualify for tax breaks and other assistance in preserving and restoring their properties. Through all of this, the Society as a whole benefitted; the library acquired funds for published and unpublished sources for preservation research, and the Publications Section received funds to hire staff members to edit and publish the research accomplished by both the Preservation and Antiquities sections.

One of the healthiest developments during the Smith years was publication in 1976 of The Peoples of Utah, edited by board member and ethnic historian Helen Z. Papanikolas.145 Capitalizing on the suddenly enhanced general interest in American history during the bicentennial of the American Revolution, the Society applied successfully for federal funds to publish a book celebrating the racial and ethnic diversity of Utah. Not only did The Peoples of Utah eloquently refute the ubiquitous cliché of Utah's ethnic and religious homogeneity, it established the Society as the leading promoter in the state of research on racial and ethnic minorities, a theme that is never far from the surface in all its publications and collections.146

One of the major emphases of the preservation program was the adaptive reuse of historic buildings, the principle that the architectural integrity of old buildings could be maintained while employing them for modern purposes and that, generally, such historic structures did not need to be destroyed and replaced Since 1957 the Society had of course practiced what it preached, in adapting the historic Kearns residence for use as its headquarters. The organization's commitment to that principle was tested more strongly near the end of the 1970s when it left the mansion and moved twice, each time wrestling with the problems of adapting other historic structures to its needs.

The Society's tenure in the Kearns mansion was always tenuous, for the state had acquired it for use as the governor's residence. When Governor Lee complained of its inadequacies as a home, the legislature gave the Society permission to move in at the end of his term, assuming that succeeding governors would also not want to live there. George D. Clyde and Calvin L. Rampton lived in the executive residence built on Fairfax Road, but when Scott M Matheson was elected in 1976 he deemed the mansion a more appropriate governor's residence and asked the state to find new quarters for the Society.

Although other sites were discussed, the preference from the beginning of both the Society and the State Building Board was the abandoned Denver & Rio Grande Railroad Depot at 300 South 455 West in Salt Lake City.147 The state was able to purchase the building for a token fee, but renovating and remodeling it for occupancy by the Society was a lengthy and expensive proposition, for the building had long been unoccupied except by transients, and it was almost unbelievably filthy and run down Initial estimates by the architect and contractors projected a fairly optimistic completion date; nevertheless, it was 147 Newsletter, vol 27, no 6 (1977), clear that the Society was going to have to find interim quarters, and in fact the renovation project took about three years.

Despite a cheerful report in the Newsletter in 1978 that "staff and patrons alike" were finding the Society's temporary quarters in the Crane Building at 307 West 200 South "a highly efficient and attractive one for conducting historical business," many staff members in fact found the "Crane Mansion," as it was sarcastically called, almost useless for "historical business."148 The Society occupied the entire first floor and most of the basement, fitting into both spaces about as well as a size ten foot in a size seven shoe. The first floor had to hold all the office space except for some of the library staff, plus the library reading room. The leaky and unheated basement contained most of the library stacks, desks for an average of about eight library staff members, and the laboratory and storage area for the Antiquities Section. Bound volumes of newspapers and some unprocessed maps and manuscript collections were kept in a cavernous space under the Second South sidewalk, where cracks in the concrete and in the glass skylight admitted rain and urine, against which Visquene tarps did valiant battle. Most of the museum artifacts and the more valuable manuscripts and books were placed at Mollerup Storage or in the mountain vault in Big Cottonwood Canyon. Still, thievery was a major problem. The building's elevator gave almost unrestricted access to the basement, and the Society suffered some tragic losses during that time.

There were, nevertheless, some very positive developments during the Crane years For one thing, President Jimmy Carter's Comprehensive Employment Training Act (CETA) of 1977, a sort of WPA program of federal grants to organizations that would agree to provide job training, enabled the Society to add numerous staff members. Most did not find places on the state payroll at the end of their training, but some did. The library alone, which employed some six CETA staff members, was able permanently to retain map librarian Susan Whetstone, who later took over the photograph collection, and for lesser periods Timothy Nevills and William C. Seifrit.149

And the Society acquired its first computers at the Crane Building. Although the incredibly rapid rate of development of computer technology would soon render the Society's Wang word processing system almost laughably obsolete, it revolutionized the efficiency of most of the Society's programs. The Wang offered basic word processing functions through a central file server and printer accessed by remote work station terminals. Files could be saved either on the file server or on twelve-inch floppy disks of rather limited capacity. Among its disadvantages was that it was generally incompatible with other DOS systems. Despite advances in Wang technology during the early 1980s, the Society remained largely cut off from the rest of the electronic world with this inadequate computer system.

THE MOVE TO THE D & RG DEPOT

Renovation of the depot continued during 1980 while the Society moved in; indeed, renovation has never really ended. Some of the Society's expenses have been subsidized by renting space to the Rio Grande Cafe, a popular lunch and dinner spot featuring Mexican cuisine on the first floor in the north end of the building Much more revenue—all of it earmarked for maintenance and renovation of the building—has come from renting a corresponding space in the south end of the building to AMTRAK for a depot. Although vigorously resisted by Melvin Smith (with the support of Governor Matheson, who maintained that the building was no longer a depot and that using the space for one would seriously encroach on the Society) Governor Norman H. Bangerter thought otherwise and allowed AMTRAK to move in. Whatever the merits of the debate, the money has certainly been welcome and has been efficiently administered by staff architect Don Hartley to repaint the interior, install ultraviolet blocking windows to brighten the museum space while protecting the artifacts, and similar projects.

All sections of the Society benefitted from the move to the majestic, historic, and spacious depot, but perhaps the greatest beneficiaries were the Museum Section and the bookstore. As we have seen, the preservation and exhibition of historical artifacts were part of the original purpose of the Society We have also observed, though, that throughout most of its history that was probably its greatest failure because of lack of space and inadequate budgets for construction of secure and appropriate display facilities. Things improved dramatically with the move to the Kearns mansion, for the magnificent building was itself a museum, and the Society displayed paintings and other works within it. The nature of the building and its interior decor precluded certain types of exhibits, and limited storage space restricted museum acquisitions.

The move to the Crane Building was certainly no boost to the museum, but in anticipation of the vast exhibit and storage space offered by the depot,John M. Bourne was hired to plan an expanded museum program and to recruit a staff. In spite of serious conservation and security concerns that had to be overcome, the museum has thrived in the depot Under the directorship of Bourne and later of Philip F. Notarianni, the museum has featured a succession of popular and effective exhibits, both traveling exhibits and those designed and constructed by staff members. Education has been the primary goal of the museum, and one of its best programs has been the training and employment of docents initiated by Wreatha A Witte for interpretation of the exhibits to school children and other groups.

Sale of historical publications began as soon as the Utah Historical Quarterly was founded, and over the years visitors to the Capitol could purchase bound volumes of the Quarterly, copies of Alter's Early Utah Journalism, and special publications like the Valley of the Great Salt Lake number of the Quarterly. In the Kearns mansion and the Crane Building the Society maintained small book stands by the reception desk. With the move to the depot the first really adequate bookstore space became available. Operated at first as part of the Publications Section, the bookstore eventually became an independent operation run by the resourceful Debbie Dahl and carrying not only Society publications but also a wide variety of local, state, and western historical material as well as a generous selection of gift and souvenir items.

Unlike Historical Society staff members, who are hired through and protected by the state personnel system, the director—like all state agency heads—serves at the pleasure of the governor. Although the circumstance is rife with the obvious perils that an incompetent director could be appointed for political reasons or a competent one similarly fired, in practice the system has generally functioned effectively. All of the directors to date have been extraordinarily capable people who have often worked effectively with a governor of the other party. Only once has politics intruded into the Society deeply enough to cost a director hisjob. In 1985, undercut by his dogged resistance to AMTRAK and by his outspoken Democratic dissatisfaction with the budget-cutting conservatism of the Bangerter administration, Melvin T. Smith was forced out of office. His reputation for integrity and effectiveness was vindicated in his being almost immediately appointed director of the Idaho State Historical Society, but his firing was an ugly example of politics over professionalism.

Smith was replaced in 1986 by Max J Evans, a nationally known archivist and computer expert whose administration would transform the Society as profoundly as that of any previous director. A Utah native with deep family roots in Lehi, where he grew up, Evans majored in history at Utah State University and the University of Utah and then returned to Logan to earn his master's degree under S George Ellsworth. During his graduate work he served as the first editorial assistant on the new Western Historical Quarterly. That experience, added to an enjoyable period as a bookmobile driver for the Utah State Library, opened his eyes to the possibilities of a nonteaching career, something history graduates were increasingly having to consider anyway in the face of an oversupply of historians that was emerging at the time.150

A turning point for Evans came in 1971 when he joined the staff of the LDS Church Historian's Office, as it was then known. In 1970 Apostle Howard W Hunter was placed in charge of the Historical Department with a mandate to convert the church archives from a mere records repository to a working research facility. With the hiring in 1972 of Leonard J. Arrington as church historian a refreshing breeze of openness and professionalism blew into Mormon history, inaugurating what one participant has called "Ten Years in Camelot."151

Evans got his first substantial computer experience at the LDS Historical Department, but he extended it dramatically when he went off after a few years to work at the State Historical Society of Wisconsin, one of the nation's showcase historical organizations. There he gained experience with Spindex, a pioneering electronic cataloguing system for archives and manuscripts. His greatest contribution came as a developer of the MARC format that has become the standard cataloguing mechanism in the field.

Evans also became inspired by Wisconsin's integrated system of managing archives, manuscripts, and libraries in which local records repositories, the state archives, the university system, and the Historical Society all cooperate more or less harmoniously. It was a harmony sadly lacking in Utah, where most manuscript collecting, in particular, was done in high competition among several fiefdoms with little regard for reason or for the convenience of the researcher.

The Evans administration got off to an unexpectedly slow start because of the simultaneous retirement of state archivist T Harold Jacobsen, whom Evans, because of his reputation in the archives field, was asked to replace temporarily while a new archivist was selected. In what turned out to be one of his rare failures, Evans, at the request of the Bangerter administration, argued for a reunification of the State Archives and the Historical Society, which would thus achieve a rationalization of state records administration inspired, to be sure, by the Wisconsin model but also well within the pre-Little Hoover Commission tradition in Utah. In the end it proved to be an overly ambitious dream that was burst by internal archives opposition and unimaginative legislators who did not see the plan's advantages.

With the hiring ofJeffrey O.Johnson as state archivist, Evans was free to direct his attention solely to the Society. Perhaps the most consistent theme of his administration has been to inspire the staff with a common vision of the Society's function. In pursuit of that goal, he effected a sweeping administrative reorganization. Concerned that each of the Society's sections—Library, Museum, Preservation, Publications, and Antiquities—was performing overlapping functions with its own purposes in mind, Evans hired two mid-level managers to try to integrate functions wherever possible. Wilson G. Martin, who had administered the preservation program during much of the Smith period, was placed over preservation and antiquities, while Patricia Smith-Mansfield was hired from State Archives to integrate the other sections, except for publications.

Another integrative enterprise has been accomplished by modernizing the Society's computer systems, an immense task that one may say without exaggeration has revolutionized the way staff members work together and do their individual jobs As soon as possible Evans scrapped the outmoded Wang system in favor of fully IBM compatible desktop computers linked by a central file server. From a Society that had only a few Wang terminals, Evans soon achieved his goal of a PC on every desk. The system has made it possible for the publications staff to accomplish more of the publication process in house and has enabled other staff members to share common files easily and to communicate electronically. The library began cataloguing both books and manuscripts online, when Evans created an electronic guide to archives and manuscripts in Utah, in which most of the major repositories in the state have contributed to an online records database. The Society now has a home page on the Internet, to which Evans hopes to add dramatically in the near future.

Technology has its perils, of course, in the hands of immature technocrats for whom creation of ever more complicated and powerful programs can become a sterile end in itself As Henry David Thoreau (who never dreamed of a computer) observed, technology can become nothing more than an "improved means to an unimproved end." In spite of the infectiousness of his boyish love for computers, though, Evans has handled that risk well at the Society's helm. In a recent Newsletter editorial he made some inspiring connections between the contemporary Society and the organization as it existed under J. Cecil Alter. After musing with admiration that Alter and his associates, "each successful in other professions, [could] produce so much history using such primitive tools," he reminded us that the basic human conditions and problems that history attempts to illuminate remain the same: "Both the problems and advantages of contemporary life have their roots, not in a high-tech, fast-paced, and increasingly urban environment, but in the nature of the human race."152 Technology can be an improved means, not perhaps to an improved end but to the perennial purpose of history: to delineate the process that has made us what we are.

As we have seen, the Wisconsin model of integrated records administration is apparently only applicable to Utah conditions in limited ways, but Evans has worked hard to encourage local participation in the creation and administration of Utah history. In this, of course, he is building on a strong tradition of local chapters begun during the Mortensen and Cooley years. For one thing, he has advocated, with only limited success to date, a system of local records repositories administered by professionals or volunteers with the Society's support. Also, during the state's centennial celebration, he initiated an immense collaborative rewriting of Utah history that involves both professionals and knowledgeable local amateurs Beginning with Thomas G. Alexander's well-received Utah: The Right Place (1995), a general history of the state by one of Utah's premier scholars, the series is planned to include a more detailed multivolume history by other leading authorities.153 Finally, under the leadership of Craig Fuller and Kent Powell the Society has organized the writing of a series of new county histories authored by people chosen by the counties themselves. About a third of the twenty-nine volumes have already appeared at this writing. When completed, it will be the first systematic county history publishing project since the Daughters of Utah Pioneers series in 1947.

As the Society faces its second century, and shortly a new millennium, there seems to be a consensus among administrators, employees, and patrons that it is fulfilling much of its function in Utah cultural life very well. Utah Historical Quarterly and the Society's other publications consistently earn impeccable marks from readers and stand in the very top rank of such publications around the country. The emphasis in the Society's collections and publications on Utah's ethnic, cultural, and religious diversity is surely well founded and has led to a significant reinterpretation of Utah history. Computerization has enabled fewer people to do more work more easily than in the old typewriter days and has opened the Society's collections and programs, through electronic communication, to the world The evolving image of the Preservation and Antiquities sections as sources of assistance for those who need to meet federal and state regulations and develop resources rather than as enforcers of those regulations has helped those programs to thrive The depot itself, the Society's headquarters, projects an image of history as something dignified yet appealing and accessible. The competent and dedicated staff is the best bargain in state government in efficient use of tax dollars.

And yet there also seems to be a consensus that the Society could be doing more. Most of those shortcomings appear to be related to the Society's inconspicuous public image. Memberships, for example, for many years have stagnated at around three thousand, a disconcertingly tiny figure in a state with a population of over two million, especially considering that many memberships are held by non Utahns. One staff member has recently suggested a blitzkrieg of advertising, including even billboards. At the very least, one could hope for another Russ Mortensen, who was not above selling special issues of the Quarterly on supermarket magazine racks through distributors. A heartening step toward increasing public awareness of the Society was taken by Max Evans, who played the lead role in a theatrical reenactment of the announcement of Utah statehood on Main Street during the Statehood Day centennial celebration. It was an encouraging echo of Marguerite Sinclair's serenades of the state legislature and of Everett Cooley's radio and television broadcasts promoting Utah history in the 1960s.

One hundred years is a long time, and the Society has experienced the most profound changes imaginable during that period. As we face the future, we can be certain that change will not cease, and an awareness of our history ought to help us build upon the best of our traditions. With that awareness in mind as we work, perhaps we can even sense by our side the quiet presence of Juanita Brooks or John James, the turbulent energy of J Cecil Alter or Dale Morgan, the warm smile of Marguerite Sinclair, or, on a bad day, the bristling indignance of Russ Mortensen's mustache or the disapproving scowl of Charles Kelly.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Being a professional historian means being part of a community that offers both criticism and support. That criticism and support guarantees the scholarly depth and integrity of what we write, and this essay has benefited greatly from colleagues who have helped me deepen my research and hone my interpretations. To my peril, I have ignored some of their counsel, and I accept ultimate responsibility for what I have written.

Priority of place among my supporters goes to Max J. Evans, director of the Utah State Historical Society, who invited me to write this essay and devoted a couple of hours of his time to an unfortunately unrecorded interview on his life and career. He also read the manuscript carefully and thoughtfully and offered some valuable criticisms. The Society's publications staff, particularly Stan Layton and Miriam Murphy, recommended me as author and supported me closely through preparation of the manuscript Both of those close friends and colleagues over many years shared their reminiscences (though I recorded only Miriam's) and suggestions for sources and interpretations.

Although I met A Russell Mortensen on a couple of occasions, I did not have the chance to interview him before his passing, but I enjoyed the opportunity to record the reminiscences of his widow, Dorothy Mortensen, who generously cooperated with my project I also profited greatly from Levi Peterson's interview with the Mortensens which, though it focused on their recollections of Juanita Brooks, included much of value on their involvement with the Society.

Other interviewees included former directors Charles S Peterson, who also shared with me some unpublished parts of his chapter on regionalism and local history in the Oxford History of the American West, and my own boss and close friend for many years, Melvin T. Smith, who has my eternal gratitude for giving me my start in the historical profession Allan Kent Powell, who has the record of longevity among current employees of the Society, and who has made some of its most impressive contributions to Utah history, submitted to a very useful interview and read the draft manuscript.

During my research I received invaluable help from two of the best oral history transcribers I have ever worked with: former Society staff member Adrienne Call and my colleague at Salt Lake Community College, Marianna A Hopkins Thanks to both of them for speedy and accurate transcriptions.

I owe especial thanks to two great records repositories where I did most of my documentary research The Utah State Archives, whose reading room is administered by Ray Matthews and supervised by my colleague of years gone by at the Society, Steven Wood, provided access to the records of the Society. The Society's own library, which I have not yet learned to call the Utah History Information Center, cooperated fully in my research in Utah Historical Quarterly and other literature I should like to thank especially Alan Barnett and my old comrade Linda Thatcher.

My greatest source of both support and criticism, however, was my friend and colleague of more than twenty years, Dr Everett L Cooley, now retired from the Marriott Library at the University of Utah If there is such a thing as omniscience, its name is Everett Cooley With his long career as state archivist and later director of the Society, he qualifies more than any living person as a true Founding Father. His support of this project included a two-hour interview, access to his invaluable private diaries during his directorship, and close criticism of the draft manuscript, which saved me from many errors and significantly deepened my understanding of the Society's history.

GARY TOPPING

NOTES

142 Powell interview, pp. 10-11.

143 Personal information on Smith comes from his interview with the author, October 19, 1996.

144 Some of these projects included excavation of the Social Hall in downtown Salt Lake City, the Isaac Chase Mill in Liberty Park, and the Donner-Reed wagons on the Salt Flats.

145 Helen Z Papanikolas, ed., The Peoples of Utah (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1976).

146 The Miriam B. Murphy interview emphasizes this point and lists some of the publications and programs that have exhibited the state's diversity.

147 Newsletter, vol. 27, no. 6 (1977), indicates that the Board of State History had also passed a resolution favoring the depot.

148 Newsletter, vol. 28, no. 2.

149 Ibid.

150 The discussion of the Evans years that follows is largely based on an interview with Max J Evans, January 10, 1997.

151 Davis Bitton, "Ten Years in Camelot: A Personal Memoir," Dialogue: AJournal of Mormon Thought 16 (1983): 9-33 See also Bitton and Leonard Arrington, Mormons and Their Historians (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1988), pp 135-41.

152 Newsletter, vol. 46, 16. 6 (1996).

153 Thomas G Alexander, Utah: The Right Place: The Official Centennial History (Salt Lake City: Gibbs Smith Publisher, 1995).

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