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“Two Pull Better Than One”: The Love Story of Grace and Agnes

Posted on February 10, 2025 by ahcadmin

In the early days of Wyoming statehood, when Laramie was still finding its footing as a frontier town, two extraordinary women found each other. Grace Raymond Hebard and Agnes Wergeland would go on to become pivotal figures in the University of Wyoming’s development, but their story goes far beyond their academic achievements. This Valentine’s Day, I’d like to highlight how, through letters, poems, and daily life shared at their home, they forged a bond that defied the constraints of their era.

When Grace Raymond Hebard arrived at the University of Wyoming in 1891, Old Main, shown behind her, *was* the university. Photo File – Hebard, Grace Raymond, University of Wyoming, American Heritage Center.

Though their lives stretched from the late 1800s to the early 1900s, a time when same-sex relationships were not openly discussed, research by scholars—including Virginia Scharff, E. Cram, and Kylie McCormick—suggests Hebard and Wergeland shared an intimate bond that went beyond friendship.

Hebard and Wergeland were partners in life and work, supporting each other’s academic endeavors and personal interests. They shared a common vision of advancing knowledge, culture, and social justice in Wyoming and beyond. They were also part of a network of women scholars, writers, and activists who challenged the male-dominated norms of their time.

Their relationship was not widely publicized or acknowledged, but it was evident in their letters, photographs, and writings.

Professor Burt C. Buffum of the UW Agricultural Dept. captured this image of Grace and Agnes taking a buggy ride through a field of white sweetclover at the UW Experimental Station in Laramie in August 1905. Box 20, B. C. Buffum Papers, Coll. No. 400055, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Grace Raymond Hebard was born in Clinton, Iowa, on July 2, 1861. Armed with a civil engineering degree from the University of Iowa in 1882, she joined her family in Cheyenne where she began her career as a draftsperson and engineer for the U.S. Surveyor General’s office. When the University of Wyoming began construction in 1886, Hebard’s connections to prominent Wyoming families and her brother’s position in the territorial assembly helped secure her appointment to the University’s Board of Trustees in 1891. At age 29, she left Cheyenne for Laramie, beginning what would become a 45-year dedication to the University.

Grace’s graduating photo in 1882 from the University of Iowa. She reflected in a 1928 letter to a colleague on her experience as a female engineering student: “I met with many discouragements and many sneers and much opposition to my enrolling in the scientific course, which was then entirely a man’s college. … All kinds of discouraging predictions were made that I would fail, that it was impossible for a woman to do the kind of work I was undertaking.” Photo File: Hebard, Grace Raymond, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Agnes Wergeland was born in Norway in 1857 and became the first woman to earn a doctoral degree in that country. She was a poet, historian, and professor who taught history and Spanish at the University of Wyoming from 1890 until her death in 1914 at age 56.

This photo of Agnes Wergeland was most likely taken sometime while she was a docent in history and non-resident instructor at the University of Chicago between 1896 to 1902. Photo File – Wergeland, Agnes, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

She was also a feminist and a suffragist who supported women’s rights and education. She wrote several books and poems in Norwegian and English, some of which were published posthumously by Hebard.

Before coming to Wyoming, Dr. Wergeland’s life is described as lonely and melancholic. This childhood experience helped to shaped her into a reserved and private person. But Wyoming would become her refuge and Dr. Hebard her companion and cure for loneliness.

With optimism, Dr. Wergeland moved to Wyoming in 1902 where she made a fast home of the university library. “I spent this morning in the library. I like to be there. I like the books and the view.” There is where she may have first met and grew close with UW’s first librarian, Dr. Grace Raymond Hebard.

Wergeland and Hebard around 1910 with UW student and Hebard protégé Agnes Wright (later Agnes Wright Spring) in the UW library in Old Main. Photo File: Hebard, Grace Raymond, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

In late 1905, Wergeland realized her dreams of owning a home when she and Hebard bought a lot to build their shared home called “The Doctor’s Inn.” They broke ground early the next year, eagerly checking the progress each day on the two-story home. The house still stands at 318 S. 10^th in Laramie.

Photo of the home of Grace and Agnes taken in 2017 by Elisa Rolle for her book *Queer Places: Retracing the Steps of LGBTQ people around the World*.

The home meant so much to Hebard that the brass knocker can be found in her papers at the AHC. Box 79, Grace Raymond Hebard papers, Coll. No. 400008.

Each created a personal sanctuary on the second floor. Hebard’s rooms overlooked the Snowy Range with large windows and plenty of light for her extensive library. Wergeland’s front rooms claimed the balcony, which she filled with flowers. She created a private place to play her piano, still preferring to play alone but leaving her door ajar for Hebard to hear as she hurried about her own work in the other room.

In their new home, Wergeland was able to explore being the artist she always wanted to be. While still pursuing her other scholarly work, she began penning poetry in Norwegian. An excerpt from a translated poem describes the satisfaction she found in her life with Hebard:

When I come through the door

One greets me welcome, we help each other

To bear the household burdens and make life easy for each other.

We both know what it is to be out among strangers

And take the crumbs of benevolence and consideration which the world gives;

And as long as we live we shall not forget

That Life’s hills are long, and two pull better than one,

Together we discuss the problems of the day, while the evening meal

Is devoured—and here you must not think

We live in any great splendour;

Professors, you know, never get rich…

As professors, they may have not been rich, but the salary must have been adequate because in 1908 Wergeland paid cash for 40 acres in the Snowy Range by Libby Creek. For the lot, she purchased a log cabin built in the style of her European homeland. She called her acreage “Little Norway” and carved a sign for her cabin dubbing it “Enebo” or “The Hermitage.” Here she and Hebard spent their summers in seclusion.

A view of Libby Creek in the Snowy Range. Indeed, a quiet place for reflection and seclusion.

At Enebo, Wergeland found a tranquil refuge that further inspired her poetic creativity. Some of her work was intimate, such as these two works. Written for Hebard, both describe a concert they attended. As Hebard became enraptured with the music, Wergeland lost focus of all else but Hebard’s hand. With extended thoughts about hands as the tools of action, turning our interior selves out for the world to see, Wergeland wrote of Hebard’s strength of character and determination.

Excerpt from “Thy Hand”:

The music ceased. — I knew not —

Thy hand was all my thought,

So small and fine and delicate it was,

The gentle throne for thy mild spirit,

Thy strong and lovely profile’s complement,

Thy very self, thy soul, thy roguish smile.

For all its whiteness ‘tis a working hand:

Its clever fingers are the surest bond

Between work and that wise clear will of yours

Which is work’s spirit…

And I would gladly kiss those flower-stems,

So jealously half-hid by lace and silk;

And in my own how gladly I would hold

Thy warm hand, index of thy noble mind.

Excerpt from “May I sing then, dear, the song of thy hand?”:

May I sing thee, dear, the song of thy hand?

No lovelier possession shall heaven me send!

I see thee now, as I saw thee, and

to the music rapt attention, forward bent-

while the music rattled and muttered in storm

my heart sang a song of a different form;

my eye swept thee up in a motion so fleet

and kissed thy sweet self from head to feet,

ah, never was love more tenderly near

and whispered its secret to soul and ear…

Hebard displays the “roguish” spirit that so captivated Wergeland. Photographed during the time of a flag observation in Laramie, Hebard strikes a confident pose, embodying the bold independence that characterized both her public and private life. Photo File: Hebard, Grace Raymond, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Wergeland’s health declined in 1913, but she still celebrated her favorite holiday, Christmas, with her companion. She cleaned the house and decorated it using Norwegian traditions, such as a small fir tree and grain for the birds. She and Hebard also spread their generosity to others, bringing gifts to their friends and to the hospital. Hebard later recalled their last Christmas together: “Was not this all strangely prophetic, that her last Christmas should be her best, happiest, and brightest? Did she know it was to be her last? I sometimes think she did.”

Wergeland was interred in her doctorate regalia and with the silk American flag she received with her American citizenship. Today, the two women are buried side by side, sharing a headstone at Laramie’s Greenhill Cemetery. Hebard would live another twenty-two years without her most cherished partner.

Together forever. Grace and Agnes are interred side by side with Grace’s beloved sister Alice near them at Laramie’s Greenhill Cemetery. Photo by AHC Archivist Leslie Waggener.

Hebard went to great lengths to preserve Wergeland’s memory. For example, University of Iowa Professor E. Cram writes of a briefcase found in Hebard’s papers at the AHC:

Hebard’s name appears worn by time and contact with the fold-over top. Wergeland’s initials appear new. The difference in the clarity and strength of the embossing suggests two different times. Although the story of this briefcase is perhaps the most difficult to understand, my queer intuition ponders if Grace etched Agnes’ name on her briefcase to carry Agnes with her after her death. Perhaps cliché, but Hebard was a sentimental pioneer, and this was especially clear when the woman who was a part of her world moved through the process of dying and encountered the world of the dead.¹

The legacy of Grace and Agnes extends beyond their scholarly contributions or their role in Wyoming’s development. Their story reminds us that even in the most restrictive times, people found ways to build meaningful lives together. Whether in their Laramie home or their beloved summer cabin in the Snowy Range, they created spaces to be fully themselves – as scholars, activists, and companions who held each other through life’s joys and sorrows, even in a time when such love dared not speak its name.

Post contributed by AHC Simpson Archivist Leslie Waggener.

A huge thanks to Wyoming historian and WyoHistory.org editor Kylie McCormick for bringing my awareness to this beautiful story of Grace and Agnes.

To see how media attitudes toward same-sex relationships evolved over time, explore our Virmuze exhibit “A Different Kind of Spotlight: How the media has portrayed queerness throughout the decades.” This exhibit traces how mainstream media coverage of LGBTQ+ relationships transformed from the 1980s and 90s onward. The Bennett Hammer collection reveals the gradual shift from silence and stigma to growing visibility and acceptance—a journey that helps us appreciate how far we’ve come since Grace and Agnes had to express their devotion through poetry and shared domestic life rather than open acknowledgment.

E. Cram (2016). Archival ambience and sensory memory: Generating queer intimacies in the settler colonial archive, Communication and Critical/Cultural Studies, 13:2.

Posted in LGBTQIA+, Queer history, Uncategorized, women's history, Wyoming history | Tagged Agnes Wergeland, Enduring love, Grace Raymond Hebard, Lesbian relationships, Norwegian immigrants, Women activists, Women educators, Women pioneers, Women scholars, Women supporting women, women's suffrage, Women's Rights, Wyoming educators | Leave a comment

Through the Stereoscope: White Tourists, Native Prisoners, and the Colonial Gaze

Posted on February 3, 2025 by ahcadmin

One afternoon at the American Heritage Center an old photograph retrieved from deep in the archive propelled me on a fascinating research journey. It also led me to reckon with the power of photography as a colonial tool and to reconsider the layered complexities that inevitably exist beyond the frame.

An Unsettling Discovery

I pressed my forehead against the edge of the wooden stereoscope. Across the bottom of the image in glib white print my eyes skipped across the words, “Sitting Bull’s Camp sectional view. Winter Quarters.” I had pulled the old stereograph from a dull grey box filled with old stereographs. I was about to pluck the stiff image from its mount to look for something else, but my eyes were drawn back to the little girl, to the soldier, and to the women posing like self-absorbed holidaymakers. What were they doing there? The question seemed to well up from deep in my belly.

The little white girl stands apart from everyone else. Head tilted forward, arms dangle dejectedly at her sides. The pose conveys petulant boredom. Or perhaps it is the posture of dark wonderment, an expression of a thing her youthful mind cannot articulate but that her body understands viscerally. The white man in the uniform faces the camera. Shoulders back, level chin, the buttons on his jacket glint in the biting morning light. Two women smile at the viewer from beneath their stylish black chapeaux. One of them is buttoned up tight in a dark jacket and gloves. The other looks like a Victorian Frida Kahlo. A white version. A scarf is sinched around her hips and she has draped a colorful shawl over her shoulders. Perhaps her costume is an attempt to blend in with the natives, like blond co-eds dawning saris on the beaches of Goa.

Behind the white people and a bit off center, two Lakota women sit on the ground in front of a tipi. They are wrapped in dark blankets and long, black braids brush their shoulders. It is winter in South Dakota. The grove of young box elders are jagged and naked. To the left of the interlopers a few tribe members are gathered in front of another tipi. It looks larger than the others. There are five seated figures before the entrance. A tall man draped in black, stands facing them. His back is toward the camera.

“Sitting Bull’s Camp sectional view. Winter Quarters,” Box 2, “Indians of North America” Section, Stereocards Collection, Coll. No. 10733, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

As with most stereograph productions, the two images were mounted on thick cardboard. On the back a description was affixed. There, I found another conundrum. In grand capital letters at the top of the description were the words PYRAMID PARK. Below them it said, (Known as “BAD LANDS”) D. T. Territory. Then, set off and separated by decorative lines I read, Northern Pacific Rail Road Extension. Below that, the first paragraph described a rugged landscape of canyons and buttes and upturned trees and rocks that bore no resemblance to the photograph. The second paragraph was more confusing.

Also, Views of the Wild Sioux Indians, showing their methods of living, and modes of burying the dead; together with many of the principal Chiefs, including SENTEGALESKA, or Spotted-Tail, who was assassinated in the Fall of 1881, and was, at the time of his death, Chief of 8,000 Indians. This Event to the Indians was the loss of a wise counselor, and to the whites a true friend.

Views published and kept constantly on hand, and for sale, at my Gallery in In Niobrara, Neb.

W. R. CROSS, photographer.

Back of the stereo card titled “Sitting Bull’s Camp sectional view. Winter Quarters,” Box 2, “Indians of North America” Section, Stereocards Collection, Coll. No. 10733, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

The narrative on the back of the stereograph led me to think it was a sort of canned description of the harrowing terrain, and exotic creatures an intrepid Easterner might encounter if they were brave enough to take the Northern Pacific line through the Dakota Territories. Mr. Cross was clearly a businessman, as indeed so many of the young men were who took up the trade of photography in the West. Profit motive notwithstanding, the description on the back of the stereograph had so little correlation to the actual image I wondered if it were a mistake. Why would you sell a photo of anonymous white people in a Native settlement identified as Sitting Bull’s Winter Quarters? Where was Sitting Bull? Was he the tall standing figure giving his back to the camera? Where was the photo actually taken and why was there a man in uniform?

These are a smattering of the questions that propelled me in search of the origins of the photo. That sepia fragment of history sent me on a journey with Native scholar, Thomas King as he explored and re-storied the mythology of the American Indian, and with Susan Sontag as she dissected the work of the photograph, the way an image can distort reality, dehumanize and symbolically objectify. But before alighting upon a philosophical quest, I first had to learn more about the object itself.

Following the Photographer’s Trail

William Richard Cross seemed like a good starting point. According to the South Dakota State Historical Society, in the course of his career, Cross had a trade list of more than 2,000 images. These not only included photographs of Native American but also landscapes and domestic scenes “that were truly representative of the lives of white settlers on the frontier.”[1] That sentence rankled me as my mind went back to the photograph and woman with the scarf around her hips. Clearly, it did not seem equally important to truly represent the lives of the Native people living on the frontier.

Beginning in the 1860s, Cross was among a handful of professional men who traveled a region encompassing northern Nebraska and into what is considered today as southern South Dakota, with aim of capturing life in the West. This included the Indigenous peoples, of course. Among Cross’s cohort, was a man named Stanley J. Morrow. This fact would later prove to be important. These photographs were primarily created for a rapacious market in the Eastern part of the United States and Canada.

The Business of Native Photography

For the public, those images complemented written accounts of the Wild West and the barbaric Red Men that circulated in newspapers, magazines and dime-store novels. Photographs from men like Cross provided “visual proof of the existence of American Indian tribes.”[2] Susan Sontag notes the photographer “both loots and preserves, denounces and concentrates.”[3] The photograph becomes not only proof of something but also a way to lay claim, to possess; and then, for men like Cross, to sell for profit. In many ways one can think of frontier photography as emblematic of the entire capitalist colonial project ¾ claim, conquer, exploit and destroy to create wealth. It was the Gilded Age after all.

Thomas King agrees with Sontag, though he sees the phenomenon through a different lens. He explains, in the second half of the nineteenth century people east of the Mississippi suddenly became fascinated with Indians. Not all people, of course, he cautions. Basically, the curiosity lie with people who had never seen a real Indian. People living in places like Pennsylvania or Quebec, “those for whom Indians were a distant memory.”[4] Curiosity seemed to be the highest is places where roads had long ago replaced forests and where disease, war and relentless capital expansion had driven the Native people away. Since the original inhabitants were gone from those territories, they took on a new persona, the Indian had become symbolic.

King pushed me to see the impossible situation of the Native people at the time, and perhaps still today. In most cases it appears to me Native people were either feared or made the exotic (erotic) other. But once pushed to the brink of extinction, they suddenly become peculiarly precocious. This realization was deeply unsettling; there is something of the zoo in it, like the way people today might flock to see an endangered snow leopard. Through men photographing tribes across the West, King laments, “Somewhere along the way, we ceased being people and somehow became performers in an Aboriginal minstrel show for White North America.”[5]

Unraveling the Mystery

As part of the George V. Allen collection of Native Americans and the American frontier, the Smithsonian Museum’s online digital collection also has a stereograph titled, “Sitting Bull’s camp. Sectional view. Winter quarters.”[6] The canned narrative on the back is identical to the stereograph I found at the American Heritage Center, but the image is different. In the Smithsonian collection, the white people are gone and instead the camera’s gaze is fixed on two women standing near a tipi draped in dark mantles. Six seated figures are swaddled in blankets and appear to be children. No Sitting Bull in sight. It seems Mr. Cross’s photographs made it into more than once collection. The all-purpose description affixed to the image troubled me. If W.R. Cross, photographer, had actually taken the picture, why didn’t he write a better description? I was beginning to suspect what the back of the stereograph said was of little consequence. Sontag notes, “photographs, which cannot themselves explain anything, are inexhaustible invitations to deduction, speculation, and fantasy.”[7] If one does not respect the subject of the photo why bother to describe the image accurately? Maybe the fantasy was the point.

Stereo card with description “Sitting Bull’s Camp. Sectional View. Winter Quarters” Image from Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History.

Unsatisfied with what I found at the Smithsonian, further online sleuthing eventually led me back to the South Dakota State Historical Society. There, I located a report published in 1975 called the “Sitting Bull Collection.”[8] The document is a compellation of the images the society received from Mrs. Leona Dix Wilber in 1932. The society paid her twenty-five cents per image. Along with a reproduction of the photograph, the report includes the narrative information on the back. The report begins with a note from the editor:

They were copyrighted in 1882 by Bailey, Dix and Mead of Fort Randall, Dakota Territory. Because these views are also included in the Stanley J. Morrow photographic collection, it is possible that Morrow was the original Photographer and had sold at least twenty-four views to Bailey, Dix and Mead. The Morrow Collection as compiled and organized between 1869 and 1881. And then offered for sale in 1881, either as a set or as individuals views.[9]

Stanley J. Morrow knew W. R. Cross! They were among a small group of professionals working in the region. The puzzle pieces were falling into place…

On the second page of the report, I found an image called “Winter Quarters.” I could feel my eyes grow wide with excitement. As I looked closer, I recognized the tipis squeezed in between the baren box elders, but nothing else. There was another photo called “Sitting Bull and his favorite Wife,” the mere title of which, was implicitly insulting. Then page after page of insipid pictures of tipis and Lakota people wrapped in blankets sitting on the ground or looking away from the camera. The document I thought was answer to the mystery of my photograph appeared to be useless, and disturbing.

Sontag talks about photography as a form of colonization after the transcontinental railroad opened the West. King sees the American Indian photography craze as morbid curiosity, as if there was a sudden desire to preserve the image of beautiful creatures on the verge of extinction. There was so much more to the story than what was contained in the image and more complexity than the glib, and subtly disdainful stereograph descriptions attempted to convey. Looking through the collection of photographs made me nauseous and angry and embarrassed. It is likely I would have been as inured to the indignity thrust upon Sitting Bull and his people as every other American of the time.

In the photo on page 254 I recognized the woman with the pleated skirt and the pert black hat. The image is titled, “Sitting Bull, [s—-] and Twins,” which uses a derogatory term common in that era. The white woman is not mentioned in the title, but she is there, seated awkwardly in front of a tipi in a row with the chief’s family members. A short distance behind them the man with the polished buttons is mounted on a white horse. The little girl from my photograph is also there. She is squished between Sitting Bull’s twins and looks miserable. Later, I would come across this photograph again in an article by David Humphreys Miller published in 1964, called “Sitting Bull’s White [s—-].” Miller claims the white woman is Catherine Weldon[10] – but that is another story altogether.

Photo from *Woman Walking Ahead: In Search of Catherine Weldon and Sitting Bull* by Eileen Pollack published by University of New Mexico Press in 2002.

The Truth Behind the Image

Finally, at the bottom of page 260, I found my photograph. There was the cluster of white people just off center. And there were the tribe members pushed to the edges of the frame like set dressing. The image was labeled “Morning Roll Call.” The caption read, “Every morning the Indians are required to sit or stand in front of their teepees, to be counted by two commissioned Officers, consisting of the old and new officers of the day.” To be counted… Sitting Bull’s people were clearly prisoners. Had the man with the polished buttons brought his family to visit the captives? To visit the zoo.

Image and description from page 260 of the *Sitting Bull Collection* published by the South Dakota History Society Press in 1975. The images in the collection were copyrighted by Bailey, Dix and Mead in 1882.

An article from the Aktá Lakota Museum and Cultural Center explained that after Sitting Bull defeated George Armstrong Custer in June of 1876, public outrage sent thousands more US troops to the area around Little Bighorn River to pursue the Lakota. The Lakota split into small groups to evade the military, yet many were forced to surrender. Sitting Bull, refusing to capitulate, took another path. In 1877, he led his people north to Canada where they stayed for four years. However, he “found it nearly impossible to feed his people in a world where the buffalo was almost extinct.”[11] Millions of buffalo were slaughtered by settlers and hired men, for that very purpose ¾ to hasten the demise of the Native populations.

Sitting Bull holding a calumet (peace pipe). Encyclopedia Brittanica.

In 1881, Sitting Bull surrendered. He and his people were taken to Fort Randall, Dakota Territory. Sitting Bull said, “I wish it to be remembered that I was the last man of my tribe to surrender my rifle.”[12]

A Call for New Narrative

With no answer in sight, I have found myself wondering if it was possible to create a new set of descriptions for some images from the archive. What if descriptions were added by historians that pointed to the circumstances beyond the frame? Descriptions that contested the glib, canned narratives pasted on by men like W. R. Cross. What might that make possible? What might an expanded description mean to the descendants of Sitting Bull and other Native peoples of North America? Starting from a simple act of expanding the narrative, perhaps space could be created for new stories to rise.

Post contributed by Misty B. Springer, PhD student and Graduate Research Assistant in Public Humanities, Dept. of English, University of Wyoming.

[1] Mitchell, Lynn. “William Richard Cross, Photographer on the Nebraska – South Dakota Frontier.” South Dakota Historical Society Press, 1990, p. 95.

[2] Mitchell, “William Richard Cross,” p. 83.

[3] Sontag, Susan. On Photography. Toronto, Canada, McGraw-Hill Ryerson Ltd, 1977, pp. 64-65.

[4] King, Thomas. The Truth about Stories: A Native Narrative. Toronto, On, House of Anansi Press, 2003, pp. 78–79.

[5] King, The Truth about Stories, p. 68.

[6] Smithsonian Institution. “Sitting Bull’s Camp. Sectional View. Winter Quarters” | Smithsonian Institution.” Smithsonian Institution, 2024. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

[7] Sontag, On Photography, p. 23.

[8] Editor. “Sitting Bull Collection – Copyrighted by Bailey, Dix and Mead.” South Dakota Historical Society Press, 1975, pp. 245 – 265.

[9] “Sitting Bull Collection,” p. 245.

[10] Miller, David Humphreys. “Sitting Bull’s White [s—-].” Montana: The Magazine of Western History, vol. 14, no. 2, Montana Historical Society, 1964, pp. 54–71.

[11] Íyotake, Tataηka . “Sitting Bull.” Aktá Lakota Museum & Cultural Center, 2024, https://aktalakota.stjo.org/american-indian-leaders/sitting-bull/. Accessed Nov. 1, 2024.

[12] ibid.

Posted in Historical analysis, Native American history, Photography, Uncategorized | Tagged 19th century photography, American West, Archival Research, Catherine Weldon, Colonial gaze, Dakota Territory, Fort Randall, Frontier photography, Gilded Age, Historical Collections, Historical Photography, Indigenous representation, Lakota, Native American representation, Photographic archives, Sitting Bull, Stanley J. Morrow, Stereographs, Stereoscope, Susan Sontag, Thomas King, Visual culture, W.R. Cross | Leave a comment

Beyond Prissy: The Literary Ambitions of Butterfly McQueen

Posted on January 27, 2025 by ahcadmin

In a small collection at the American Heritage Center – apparently the only archival collection of her papers anywhere – actress Butterfly McQueen preserved a series of typescript works that made me wonder: of all her experiences, why did she choose to document these particular stories?

Born Thelma McQueen in Tampa, Florida, in 1911, she picked up the nickname “Butterfly” while dancing in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Most people remember her as Prissy, the chatty and easily flustered house servant in Gone with the Wind (1939). But the personal archives she chose to preserve tell a much richer story about her life beyond that famous role.

Butterfly McQueen papers, Coll. No. 11269, American Heritage Center.

A Voice Beyond Hollywood

In the 1970s, McQueen self-published the literary works found in her papers, pricing them at $2.00 (with a $1.50 student discount) and positioning them as serious contributions to the era’s social and cultural conversations. These materials, now available to researchers at the AHC, provide unique insights into both McQueen’s life and the cultural landscape of mid-20th century America.

“My writings are a tribute to the visionary ‘Thinkers’ and the relentless ‘Doers’ who shape our world.“

In a work she titled “Students or Victims?,” she chronicles her determined pursuit of education across multiple institutions – from City College of New York (CCNY) to Barnard, UCLA, and Southern Illinois University. She writes candidly about being told at Barnard, located in New York City, that “special arrangements” would need to be made for her attendance, contrasting this with the “beauty of California’s free college.” Her account of campus life in the 1970s is particularly vivid, describing the racial dynamics of the “Budweiser lounge” and offering sharp observations about class and drug use in academic settings.

“Yes, you may enter Barnard,” the examiner was telling me, “but we will have to make special arrangements for your attendance here, Miss McQueen.” This I did not like.

“Black Dog (Female, That Is) at Mt. Morris-Marcus Garvey Recreation Center” documents McQueen’s five years (1969-1974) of employment at the Harlem-based rec center. Her writing captures a challenging time which saw the new community center deteriorating into what she describes as “almost a slum dwelling in four years.” Through detailed observations and candid commentary, she creates a compelling portrait of community life and institutional challenges in 1970s Harlem.

“Why, I ask myself, was I raised to feel comfortable only in cleanliness and order? Why?! When so many others seem so content!“

A fascinating piece is “A Fan Letter to Trisha Nixon Eisenhower,” written in the aftermath of Richard Nixon’s presidency. Far from a conventional fan letter, it’s a complex meditation on power, politics, and human nature. She offers a surprisingly nuanced analysis of Nixon’s relationship with the Black community, writing, “One of your father’s greatest sins was to show love for us Blacks,” arguing that Nixon actually supported Black business leaders and understood that hearts “must change voluntarily and not by force.”

McQueen at the dedication of Roosevelt Pool in Hempstead, New York on July 7, 1973. The pool was one of the few recreational facilities available to Black residents in the area. It played an important role in the community, providing a safe and welcoming space for swimming and social gatherings. Butterfly McQueen papers, Coll. No. 11269, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Finding Deeper Meaning

But it’s her “Miscellanea” collection, that is particularly rich with insights. “Miscellanea” reveals McQueen’s gift for transforming life’s painful moments into penetrating social commentary. Consider her encounter with Lena Horne, one of the most prominent Black performers of the 1940s, during a wartime radio recording. The interaction occurred during an era when Horne was celebrated for glamorous roles while McQueen was typecast in stereotypical maid roles that reinforced racial stereotypes – parts that McQueen later said she grew to resent. Finding themselves momentarily alone, Horne fixed McQueen with a look and called her “You dog!” – unleashing what McQueen described as “centuries of horridly bitter hatred.” Yet McQueen’s response transcends the personal hurt. Instead of anger, she writes philosophically, “Thank you, Lena Horne for introducing me to the stark pitiable misery of a top success.”

This ability to find deeper meaning in difficult encounters appears throughout her writings. On Jack Benny’s popular radio show of the 1940s, McQueen initially played the girlfriend of Rochester, a witty valet character portrayed by Black actor Eddie Anderson, before being switched to the role of Mary Livingston’s maid. One day during rehearsal, Benny, furious at Anderson’s lateness, declared he “hated all Africans” because of the “dirt and squalor” he saw during USO shows in North Africa. Rather than focusing on the personal hurt, McQueen reflects on missed opportunities for dialogue. She later wondered if she could have used Benny’s outburst to address broader issues of cleanliness and social responsibility in America.

“Primarily, I left the show because Mr. Benny, in a temper over Rochester’s lateness, said he hated all Africans. Naive me! Had I known then that here, too, in America, there was dirt and squalor I could have helped by telling what Mr. Benny had said.“

Her observations of Broadway life are equally revealing. She recounts how actor Leon Janney quit Three Men on a Horse after discovering two stars were receiving $1,000 weekly bonuses from box office earnings. While Janney took to his “dressing room cot” in protest, McQueen notes her own response with characteristic irony – here she was, “a BLACK adult,” surprised by the “childish actions” of “a WHITE adult.” Though “a bit peeved” herself, she was more fascinated by the contractual mechanics that allowed some agents to negotiate better terms than others.

Through it all runs McQueen’s mordant wit and unflinching honesty about human nature. Whether describing the “mind-controllers” she suspected influenced celebrities’ behavior or pondering why some prosper through insincerity while others struggle with integrity, she consistently moves beyond personal grievance to explore larger questions about power, prejudice, and human fallibility.

Butterfly McQueen papers, Coll. No. 11269, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

A Life of Unconventional Achievement

McQueen was an unconventional figure in many ways. She was an outspoken atheist who won the Freedom From Religion Foundation’s Freethought Heroine Award in 1989. She earned her bachelor’s degree in political science from City College of New York at age 64, declaring “We were born to improve ourselves as human beings.” Her early involvement with the International Workers Order and its Harlem Suitcase Theater, where she made her acting debut in Langston Hughes’ “Don’t You Want to be Free?”, suggests a longstanding commitment to using art for social change.

“Work was and is my way of praying. I served ‘my creator’ by my day to day activities… Jobs may come and jobs may go but my present service was security for a better future.”

What strikes me most about this collection is what McQueen chose to preserve – and what she didn’t. There are no scripts, no Hollywood memorabilia, no material from her famous roles. Instead, she saved writings that documented her observations of American society and her efforts to make sense of her experiences as a Black woman navigating multiple worlds – Hollywood, academia, and community service.

Through her self-published writings, priced to reach students and academics, McQueen seems to have been working to ensure that future generations would understand not just what happened in these spaces, but what it meant. Whether describing a chance encounter with Lena Horne or documenting life at a Harlem recreation center, she consistently focused on moments that revealed larger truths about institutional power and social dynamics in American life. In doing so, she left us not just a record of events, but a model for how to learn from them.

Post contributed by AHC Archivist Leslie Waggener.

Posted in American Social History, Black History Month, Collections Highlights, Entertainment history, Uncategorized, women's history | Tagged 1970s, American Heritage Center Collections, Archival collections, Black history, Black History Month 2025, Black Women in Hollywood, Butterfly McQueen, Civil Rights, Gone With the Wind, Harlem, Hollywood History, Social Commentary | 1 Comment

Veiled in Gold: The Mysterious History of Disappearing Fore-Edge Decoration

Posted on January 20, 2025 by ahcadmin

The anatomy of a book includes the fore-edge, or the vertical outer edge of a closed volume. The American Heritage Center’s Toppan Rare Books Library holds fourteen specimens of disappearing fore-edge paintings. Eight of these were collected by Charles Chacey Kuehn (1906-1978). Kuehn owned the Rocking Chair Ranch in Dubois, Wyoming. He was a graduate of the University of Wyoming, having been affiliated with the College of Agriculture and the American Studies program. Additionally, there are six disappearing fore-edge paintings on three volume sets in the Fred and Clara Toppan Collection, the Fitzhugh Collection, and the Coe Pre-1850 Collection.

To have a library or any number of books was once a privilege of the higher classes, the monarchy, and the church. The desire to decorate one’s books is well over a thousand years old. The practice of fore-edge decoration is rooted in the tenth century when books were displayed with their edges facing outward rather than inward as we are accustomed to today. One identified a book on the shelf by its unique fore-edge patterns. Beginning in the fourteenth century, elite people who could afford costly books began placing heraldry colored with expensive pigments on fore-edges as a method of declaring ownership. In the sixteenth century, royal bookbinder Thomas Berthelet (d. 1555) began painting the Tudor family crest on the edges of Henry VIII’s books.

Visible fore-edge painting. *Book of Common Prayer*,BX5145 .A4 1675, Coe Pre-1850 Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

During the reign of Charles II, the king’s bookbinder, Samuel Mearne (1624-1683), is thought to have developed a new and instantly popular form of fore-edge decoration in England: the disappearing painting. One of Mearne’s painters , John Fletcher, has been identified by his signature. Fletcher may have been the first to shroud the disappearing painting under gilding.

James Macpherson, *The Poems of Ossian*, printed by R. Malcolm of Glasgow, PR3544 .A1 1824x v. 1-2, Fitzhugh Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

A book with a disappearing fore-edge painting required an extremely skilled hand. After the artist burnished the edges, they clamped the book’s pages in a fanned position. The artist then coated the edges with a layer of alum water – a mixture of water and the sulphureous powder that coats alum stones. The effect of this substance was two-fold: it kept the pigments from sinking into the paper and increased their vibrancy and longevity. Once the alum had dried, the fore-edge went through a process of wetting and drying five times to lock in the alum. Only then did the artist proceed to paint a watercolor miniature or landscape befitting the genre of the book. Once the painting was completely dry, the book could be unclamped and re-clamped in its normal closed position. After applying a film of egg white glair along the edge, the artist finished off with two coats of gold leaf to protect the painting beneath and burnished it to a high shine.

An extremely well-preserved fore-edge painting that is testament to the effect of careful implementation of each step outlined above. George Gordon Byron, *Marino Faliero, Doge of Venice*, printed by C. H. Reynell, PR4366 .A1 1821, C. C. Kuehn Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

Luiz de Camões, *Poems, from the Portuguese of Luis de Camoens*, printed by C. Whittingham, PQ9199 .A5 S7 1805a, C. C. Kuehn Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

Popularity of fore-edge painting peaked between 1785 and 1830 in London when production of books with disappearing fore-edge decoration accelerated. Bookbinder William Edwards (~1722-1808) was a master of the art and opened his own bookbinding firm in Halifax during this era. His bookbindery became known for its fore-edge work along with its vellum paintings and calf skin bindings. Edwards of Halifax was the first to produce landscape paintings that ran the full length of the edge. By then demand for painted fore-edges had risen and created a market that did not rely solely on commissioned work. It was also common enough to commission a painting after a book had been bound and sold to increase its value. One must always be aware of the fact that a book and its fore-edge painting may not be the same age.

*English Minstrelsy*, printed by James Ballantyne & Co. of Edinburgh, PR1195.F8 S4, C. C. Kuehn Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

Edwards of Halifax also had a habit of painting specific imagery on specific genres of books. For instance, English poetry was likely to be decorated with fore-edge scenes of “rural landscapes and moonlight views of ruined abbeys” while the classics frequently bear images of country estates. Furthermore, sporting books were adorned with lively hunting scenes. Although other printers deviated from these rules, the three images referenced below are examples of these common themes.

Depiction of a rural landscape with the lone ruins of a castle. James Thomson, *The Seasons*, printed by S. Hamilton of Weybridge, PR3732 .S4 1811bx, C. C. Kuehn Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

Depiction of a country villa with boats floating on a river in the foreground. Christoph Christian Sturm, *Reflections on the Works of God*, printed by T. Davison,BV4834 .S72 1826x, C. C. Kuehn Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

Depiction of a hunting scene. Legh Richmond, *Annals of the Poor*, printed by Ibotson and Palmer, BV4515 .R5 1840x, C. C. Kuehn Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

There is evidence that Edwards of Halifax employed numerous painters to meet the demand. John Harris (1769-1832) and James Boulton were paid by Edwards to produce paintings of insects, fruit, flowers, seascapes, and miniatures. From documentary records, it is probable that Edwards employed women artists as well. A letter written by one Mrs. Thrale in 1812 describes Thrale’s visit to Edwards of Halifax and seeing a lady hard at work on a fore-edge painting.

William Cowper, *Poems*, printed by W. Lewis, ND2370 .C87 1820 v. 1-2, Coe Pre-1850 Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

By the early nineteenth century, fore-edge painting increasingly became a woman’s craft. Though popularity of the trade dropped off after 1850, it renewed again fifty years later. During this “Golden Age,” the twentieth century witnessed one of the most important fore-edge painters: Miss C. B. Currie, from London. Currie worked exclusively for Henry Sotheran & Co. Her contribution to fore-edge art remained largely unnoticed until the early 2000s thanks to her faithful practice of signing and numbering her works.

A revival in fore-edge painting led by Alfred De Saunty took place in Chicago between 1923 and 1935. Then around the beginning of the Second World War, a Hollywood based artist named Vera Dutter rediscovered the disappearing fore-edge. Dutter was self-taught and worked alone, but she eventually produced over four hundred paintings between 1939 and 1989. Both she and Currie preferred to paint the edges of old books. Not only was the paper of better quality, but purchasing antique books with existing gilded edges from bookshops in Hollywood and Los Angeles also saved Dutter the expense of gilding them herself.

Caption: News article from the Golden Rain News, July 17, 1980.

It was also during the mid-twentieth century that fore-edge painting expanded its geographic reach. Chinese examples are usually dated from 1936 to 1942 and were sometimes painted vertically along the edge. Toppan’s vertical fore-edges may well have been created by a Chinese artist. Jeff Weber points out that Chinese artists did not have unlimited amounts of gold leaf at their disposal. The vibrant paintings on the Poetical Works of Vincent Bourne are only partially concealed under gilding.

Fly leaf inscriptions state that these vertical paintings depict the Prodigal Son and the Order of Melchizedek. Vincent Bourne, *Poetical Works of Vincent Bourne*, printed by N. Bliss,PR3326 .B2 1808 v. 1-2, Fred and Clara Toppan Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

The Toppan Library holds only one example of a double disappearing fore-edge painting. Earlier scholars have argued that it was an invention of Edwards of Halifax in the 1790s. However, rare book dealer Jeff Weber insists that no double fore-edge was done prior to 1900. While he has not been able to definitively say just when the first double fore-edge was produced, Weber notes examples from the 1920s and after 1945. Vera Dutter is known to have added a few doubles to her voluminous bevy of fore-edges.

A double fore-edge painting. These paintings have faded over time, which may be due to the minimal amount of gold leaf and/or alum on the edges. Rachel Russell, *Letters of Lady Rachel Russell*, unknown printer, DA447 .R95 1792x, C. C. Kuehn Collection, Toppan Rare Books Library.

Fore-edge painting is going through yet another revival in the present-day. There has been a distinct shift since the COVID-19 pandemic in which young people gravitate back to tangible items and prefer object permanence. In an increasingly digital society that exalts cheaply made goods and engenders ever-shortening attention spans, younger generations have begun to look for ways to add value and uniqueness to their physical possessions. If your social media algorithm is just right, you’ll stumble upon the work of many free-lance fore-edge painters. In the corporate world, Barnes and Noble has recently added special editions of popular works with stenciled and sprayed edges as well as a DIY fore-edge stenciling kit to their sale catalogue. Moreover, a recent minimalist trend that favors shelving one’s books with the edges facing outward may have informed a maximalist trend to paint those edges – a reminder of Anglo-Saxon English practices. Whether or not contemporary fore-edge painters know of what they imitate, we are seeing an important revival and expansion of a very old art form.

Post contributed by Toppan Rare Books Library Archives Specialist Emma Comstock. Photos by Grace Derby.

References

“A Chinese Fore-Edge Painting.” Colby Library Quarterly 3 (August 1955): 67.

“The History and Technique of Fore-edge Painting.” Connoisseur 200, no. 804 (February 1979): 128-130.

Hughes, G. Bernard. “English Fore-Edge Paintings.” Country Life 122, no. 3167 (Sep. 26, 1957): 602-603.

“Lady Lions Learn of Disappearing Pictures.” The Golden Rain Seal Beach Leisure World News (Seal Beach, CA), Jul. 17, 1980.

MacDonald, Mona. “Early Art of Fore-Edge Painting.” The Christian Science Monitor, Jul. 26, 1947.

Marks, P. J. M. “The Edwards of Halifax Bindery.” The British Library Journal 24, no. 2 (Autumn 1998): 184-218.

Weber, Carl J. Fore-Edge Painting: A Historical Survey of a Curious Art in Book Decoration. New York: Harvey House, Inc., 1966.

Weber, Jeff. Annotated Dictionary of Fore-Edge Painting Artists & Binders. Los Angeles: Jeff Weber Rare Books, 2010.

Weber, Jeff. “Fore-edge Painting: From the Seventeenth through Twenty-first Centuries.” Jeff Weber Rare Books no. 156 (December 2009).

Posted in Art History, Book arts, Historical Crafts, Library Collections, rare books, Uncategorized | Tagged Art preservation, Art revival, Bibliophilia, Book aesthetics, Book collecting, Book decoration, Book design, Bookbinding, C.B. Currie, Cultural Heritage, Fore-edge painting, Historical bookmaking, rare books, Samuel Mearne, Toppan Rare Books Library, Vera Dutter, Victorian book arts, Vintage books, William Edwards | Leave a comment

Samuel A. Peeples: From Western Frontiers to Sci-Fi Stardom

Posted on January 13, 2025 by ahcadmin

In 1965, a Western writer helped launch an unexpected science fiction phenomenon. Samuel A. Peeples (1917-1991) was an American screenwriter and novelist whose career spanned genres and mediums, leaving a lasting impact on both Westerns and science fiction.

Samuel’s career is mostly focused within the Western genre, but he was a science fiction enthusiast and fan first. However, Peeples wasn’t just a fan, he was a professional writer, and he made his own impact on the sci-fi genre. The American Heritage Center preserves his collection of scripts, records, and memorabilia, showcasing his incredible multifaceted career.

Peeples began his writing journey in 1949 with the novel The Dream Ends in Fury (later re-titled Outlaw Vengeance). To expand his literary career, he adopted the pen name Brad Ward, under which he published six Western novels during the 1950s, including The Hanging Hills (1952) and The Man from Andersonville (1956). Before moving away from novels, Peeples also published five more titles under his own name, some of which include The Lobo Horseman (1955) and Doc Colt (1957). By the late 1950s, Peeples transitioned from novels to screenwriting, creating a new chapter in his career.

Book covers for *The Lobo Horseman* and *Outlaw Vengeance* by Samuel Peeples. The two Western novels explore the complexities of justice and revenge in an unforgiving American frontier. Photos from Amazon storefront.

As a television writer, Peeples made his mark by creating three Western series: The Tall Man (1960), Custer (1967), and Lancer (1968). Before these successes, he wrote for popular Western series like Tales of Wells Fargo, Bonanza, and Wanted: Dead or Alive.

In the 1960s, Peeples also began to explore his first love—science fiction. At first, Samuel mostly offered advice and reference material to his good friend and science fiction giant, Gene Roddenberry. It just so happened that most of that advice was given while Roddenberry was creating the American science-fiction television series Star Trek.

While Gene worked on that project, Samuel was working on his own western television masterpieces. Then Roddenberry selected Peeples and two other authors to write a proposed second pilot for Star Trek. That moment changed the course of the series. “Where No Man Has Gone Before” was the 1965 pilot that Peeples wrote, which ultimately sold the series.

“Where No Man Has Gone Before” is the third episode of the first season of Star Trek. Written by Peeples and directed by James Goldstone, it first aired on September 22, 1966. The episode was the second pilot, produced in 1965 after the first pilot, “The Cage,” was rejected by NBC. Reportedly, Lucille Ball, who owned the studio where the pilot was produced, persuaded NBC management to consider a second pilot, because she liked Gene Roddenberry and believed in the project. It was the first episode to feature William Shatner as Captain Kirk and James Doohan as Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott. Its title also became the final phrase in one of the most iconic opening voice-overs in television history.

Captain Kirk and Dr. Elizabeth Dehner (played by Sally Kellerman) in a tense scene from “Where No Man Has Gone Before.” The episode explored themes of power corrupting humanity, a concept that would become a recurring motif throughout *Star Trek’*s run. Photo from Wikipedia.

Samuel’s success with the script, and his friend Roddenberry’s tenaciousness, propelled the Star Trek series into television fame, and created a pop culture phenomenon. The episode title’s appearance in the voice over has propelled it to the popular culture vernacular.

Samuel A. Peeples and Gene Roddenberry. Photos from the Star Trek fan website “Warp Factor Trek.”

Peeples’ success with the Star Trek pilot set the stage for further collaborations with Roddenberry. In 1973, Peeples wrote “Beyond the Furthest Star,” the pilot episode for the animated Star Trek series. Later, in 1977, the two worked on the television movie Spectre, based on an unsuccessful pilot. Peeples also contributed to other science fiction projects, including writing the first six episodes of Jason of Star Command in 1976 and the 1982 television movie Flash Gordon: The Greatest Adventure of All.

1977 *Spectre* film title card. Photo from Wikipedia.

Peeples continued to write novels and scripts into the late 1970s, including Final Chapter: Walking Tall (1977). And over the course of his career, he amassed an extensive collection of memorabilia spanning Western and science fiction genres, which he donated to the American Heritage Center between 1958 and 1990. This collection includes Peeples’ personal film and phonograph records, comic books, correspondence, artifacts, and a treasure trove of scripts. The highlights include multiple drafts of “Where No Man Has Gone Before,” offering a glimpse into the creative process that helped shape Star Trek into a cultural phenomenon.

Samuel A. Peeples’ legacy as a storyteller, fan, and visionary continues to resonate. His unique contributions to both the Western and science fiction genres reflect a creative mind that pushed boundaries and brought timeless stories to life. The American Heritage Center is proud to preserve his collection and celebrate his indelible impact on popular culture.

Post contributed by AHC Processing Archivist Brittany Heye.

Posted in Entertainment history, science fiction, television history, Uncategorized, Western fiction, Western genre, Writers and authors | Tagged 1960s Television, American Heritage Center, Brad Ward (pen name), Custer, Film archives, Flash Gordon, Gene Roddenberry, Jason of Star Command, Lancer, NBC, Pop culture history, Samuel A. Peeples, Science Fiction Writers, Screenwriting, Spectre (1977), Star Trek, Television pilots, Television writing, The Tall Man, Western novels, Western Writers, Where No Man Has Gone Before, William Shatner | 4 Comments

On the Road: How Wyoming’s New Roving Archivist Program is Supporting Local History

Posted on January 6, 2025 by ahcadmin

Imagine trying to preserve a century-old photograph album in a historic building with challenging climate controls or figuring out how to digitize thousands of irreplaceable documents with limited resources. Across Wyoming, local institutions face daily challenges as they work to preserve their communities’ stories.

These are the places where Wyoming’s history lives – not just in major repositories, but in local museums, historical societies, and archives across the state. Each holds irreplaceable pieces of Wyoming’s past: photographs of early homesteaders, letters from World War II soldiers, records of vanished mining towns, oral histories of community elders.

Recognizing the vital role these local institutions play in preserving Wyoming’s heritage, the American Heritage Center, Wyoming State Archives, and Wyoming State Historical Records Advisory Board (SHRAB) joined forces to launch the state’s first mobile preservation initiative in July 2024. Co-founded by AHC archivist Leslie Waggener, who continues to serve as an advisor, the program brings expert guidance directly to the institutions that need it most.

Since hitting the road, Roving Archivist Linda Sampson has encountered everything from delicate nitrate negatives needing specialized storage to oral histories documenting vanishing memories of Wyoming life. In each visit, she provides recommendations tailored to the institution’s specific needs and resources – whether that’s advice on protecting precious documents from potential water damage or guidance on proper storage for oversized historical maps.

The RAP offers guidance on a wide range of archival challenges. For institutions looking to start digitization projects, it provides detailed recommendations on equipment, workflows, and best practices. For those dealing with space constraints, creative approaches are suggested to organize and store collections. When preservation concerns arise, helpful strategies are proposed that balance proper archival care with available resources.

The process begins when an institution reaches out through the RAP website. After an initial virtual meeting to understand their specific needs, Linda conducts an on-site visit to assess their situation firsthand. Within two months, the institution receives a detailed report with customized recommendations, and the RAP team remains available to support them as they implement changes. A follow-up assessment within the year helps track progress and address any new challenges.

But perhaps the most unexpected benefit has emerged from the monthly online gatherings where staff from different institutions connect to share their experiences and solutions. A volunteer in Sheridan might share tips about organizing historical photographs that help a museum in Green River. An archivist in Cody might offer advice about disaster planning that proves valuable to a historical society in Laramie. These conversations are creating a community of practice among Wyoming’s heritage institutions.

This collaborative approach marks a shift in how we think about preserving local history. Rather than expecting small institutions to find their way alone, the RAP brings expert guidance directly to them, helping ensure that Wyoming’s stories are preserved where they were created, in the communities they belong to.

Linda never knows who might greet her during her visits to Wyoming’s cultural institutions.

The program continues to evolve based on what is learned from each visit. Whether it’s advising on proper storage for fragile materials or helping develop disaster preparedness plans, the RAP is committed to providing the guidance these institutions need to safeguard Wyoming’s historical treasures.

Want to learn more about how the RAP might help your institution? Visit https://rovingarchivist.wyo.gov/home.

This initiative is supported by grants from the National Historical Publications and Records Commission (NHPRC) and the Wyoming State Historical Records Advisory Board (SHRAB).

Posted in Archival work, Community Impact, Local history, Uncategorized, Wyoming history | Tagged Archives, archivist, community, Digitization, heritage, historical, history, localhistory, museums, nhprc, outreach, preservation, records, shrab, Wyoming | Leave a comment

1926 Revisited: Nellie Tayloe Ross, First Woman Governor, Wins Again?

Posted on December 30, 2024 by ahcadmin

Picture this: It’s a crisp autumn day in 1926, and Wyoming’s capitol building in Cheyenne is buzzing with excitement. Election results are trickling in, and against all odds, Nellie Tayloe Ross has just secured a second term as governor. The first woman governor in U.S. history is set to continue her groundbreaking tenure, shaping Wyoming’s future for four more years.

Except, of course, that’s not quite how it happened.

Pen and ink drawing by William Allen Rogers. Taken from front, “This cartoon appeared in *The Washington Star* on March 4, 1925, N.T.R.” Depicts Nellie Tayloe Ross riding into town on a horse as Governor of Wyoming, while Uncle Sam tips his hat to her. Box 34, Nellie Tayloe Ross papers, Coll. No. 948.

In reality, Ross lost her re-election bid by a hair’s breadth – just 1,365 votes out of nearly 70,000 cast. But as we mark the centennial of her groundbreaking first election, it’s interesting to contemplate: what if?

Now, before we enter an alternate universe, let’s rewind a bit. On October 4, 1924, Nellie Tayloe Ross is standing by her husband’s grave. William Ross, then governor of Wyoming, had just died of appendicitis. She is shell-shocked, grieving – and about to be thrust into the political spotlight. With the election just a month away, the chairman of the state Democratic Committee approaches with a delicate question: Would she consider running for governor?

A heartfelt letter from Nellie Tayloe Ross to her sister-in-law, dated October 17, 1924, just days after the death of her husband. This poignant correspondence captures Nellie’s raw emotions at a pivotal moment, just before her unexpected entry into politics as the first woman governor in U.S. history. Box 3, Nellie Tayloe Ross papers, Coll. No. 948.

Despite her personal loss, Ross found herself in an unexpected position. The twist? Far from being a reluctant candidate thrust into the political arena by circumstance, Ross harbored a genuine desire for the role. Her brother George later revealed in a letter to his wife, “No one ever wanted it more.”

Yet Ross knew that as a woman, she had to disguise her ambition. It just wasn’t seemly for a woman to look ambitious. She ran a reserved campaign, allowing others to speak on her behalf, and won the election. On January 5, 1925, Nellie Tayloe Ross made history as the first woman governor in the United States.

To understand the significance of Ross’s hypothetical second term, we must consider the broader landscape for women in American politics during the 1920s. Women had only gained the right to vote nationwide in 1920. Ross’s initial election in 1924 represented a crack in the political glass ceiling. Yet, the press seemed more interested in her appearance than her policies. The New York Times ran the headline, “Mrs. Ross Wears Hat Before Legislature,” noting that she “defied precedent” by “wearing hat and gloves.”

Box 18, Nellie Tayloe Ross papers, Coll. No. 948.

While the media fixated on her attire, Ross focused her term on advocating for several progressive policies, including stronger banking regulations, improved safety for coal miners, and protections for women in industrial jobs. However, as a Democrat in a predominantly Republican state, she faced significant challenges in implementing her agenda. The Republican-dominated legislature not only opposed her initiatives but also made several attempts to reduce her powers as governor. Despite these obstacles, Ross demonstrated her political acumen by successfully defending her executive authority and managed to pass five of her eleven proposed policies during her short time in office.

Ross was a popular media figure. Box 20, Nellie Tayloe Ross papers, Coll. No. 948.

Undaunted by her first term’s challenges and driven by unfinished ambitions, Ross set her sights on re-election in 1926. She hit the campaign trail hard with a grueling schedule. Ross’s friend Cecilia Hendricks wrote in a letter home: “No man could stand up under such a strain, and no one but a woman could meet all the requirements placed on her everywhere.” Ross traversed the state in a big Packard, sometimes giving six or seven speeches a day, fighting to retain her position.

Had Ross’s relentless campaign efforts succeeded, a second term would have been both historic and challenging. As a Democrat in a predominantly Republican state, she already struggled to pass her agenda in her first term. A second term might have seen increased resistance from lawmakers wary of her growing influence. However, Ross had demonstrated her ability to navigate political minefields with grace and wit. When asked if she would appoint any men to office, she quipped, “It is most amusing and amazing to me…to be asked…whether I expected to appoint any men to office?”

This blend of humor and political acumen might have served her well in facing the heightened challenges of a second term. She would have needed to continue navigating the delicate balance between being “ever feminine, never a feminist,” as contemporary media often described her while using her sharp wit to disarm critics and build coalitions.

Francis E. Warren, Nellie Tayloe Ross, Robert Carey, and John B. Kendrick. Box 194, John B. Kendrick papers, Coll. No. 341.

Armed with these political skills, a second Ross term could have had notable impacts. Her ability to navigate complex political landscapes might have allowed her more time to implement her progressive agenda, including stronger banking regulations and protections for women in industrial jobs. Moreover, a full eight-year tenure for Ross, successfully managing the challenges of high office, could have influenced women’s participation in politics, albeit within the constraints of the era. Her continued presence in the governor’s mansion, coupled with her demonstrated political acumen, might have contributed to gradually normalizing the idea of women in executive positions, potentially inspiring some women to consider running for office.

While these scenarios remain speculative, Ross’s actual career trajectory demonstrates the impact she had even without a second term. Although she once stated, “Really, I dropped accidentally into politics,” her subsequent achievements suggest a deeper commitment and aptitude for public service. After leaving the governor’s office, Ross continued to break barriers, serving as Director of the U.S. Mint for 20 years – once again, the first woman to hold that position. This appointment suggests that the political acumen and progressive spirit she displayed as governor continued to serve her well throughout her career, even if not in the way our “what if” scenario imagined.

President Harry S. Truman at his desk in the Oval Office, receiving a gold commemorative medal of the National Capital Sesquicentennial Commission from Ross as Director of the U.S. Mint. Box 18, Nellie Tayloe Ross papers, Coll. No. 948.

When reflecting on Nellie Tayloe Ross’s legacy, it’s clear that even without a second term, she left an indelible mark on American politics. She once wrote to her brother, “Something entirely new seems to have been given me.” In turn, she gave something new to all of us – a glimpse of what was possible for women in government leadership.

While we can speculate about what might have been had she secured a second term, her actual achievements stand as a testament to her capability, determination, and vision. As we celebrate the centennial of her taking office, we honor not just what was, but what she made possible for future generations of women in politics.

To see more materials from Ross’s career alongside other trailblazing figures who pursued equality, visit our Virmuze exhibit “In Pursuit of Equality.”

Post contributed by AHC Simpson Archivist Leslie Waggener.

Posted in Uncategorized, Women in History, Women in Politics, women's history, Wyoming history | Tagged 1920s Politics, Centennial Commemorations, Democratic Party, First Woman Governor, Gender and Politics, Gubernatorial History, Historical What-If, Nellie Tayloe Ross, Political Barriers, Political Biography, Political History, Political Pioneers, Progressive Politics, U.S. Mint, women's suffrage | Leave a comment

Scrooge Magoo – The Making of Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol

Posted on December 23, 2024 by ahcadmin

From 1962 to 1967, a hallmark of the Yuletide season was the television broadcast of Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol. TV viewers of a certain age will remember the unlikely pairing of cartoon character Mister Magoo with the age-old Charles Dickens’ tale A Christmas Carol. It was a bit of holiday magic.

Publicity for *Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol*. Box 1, Darrell Van Citters papers, Collection No. 12908.

The character Mr. Magoo made his first appearance in 1949 in the United Productions of America (UPA) film Ragtime Bear. Magoo was a bulbous-nosed old codger, who plunged into all sorts of predicaments with consummate confidence. His nearsightedness led to an abundance of comic situations. Audiences loved him and UPA obliged by producing more films, this time with Magoo as the star. Mr. Magoo films won Academy Awards in 1954 and 1956. By 1959, there had been 53 short subject Mr. Magoo films made. That same year, Mr. Magoo made the leap to television. He was firmly ensconced in pop culture. Still, it was an unconventional decision by producer Lee Orgel to propose a cartoon version of A Christmas Carol featuring Mr. Magoo as Ebenezer Scrooge. It was equally unconventional to make the cartoon a musical.

Orgel worked tirelessly to sell the idea to NBC and sponsor Timex. He also puzzled over how to convince audiences that their beloved Mr. Magoo could be Scrooge. Orgel solved the problem by presenting the play A Christmas Carol as a show within a show. Viewers would see Magoo as the principal player on the stage as the drama unfolded. Magoo was playing the part of Scrooge, just as any actor might.

One of the opening scenes from *Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol*. Box 1, Darrell Van Citters papers, Collection No. 12908.

Originally Orgel had intended Magoo to play a more comedic Scrooge. But he eventually thought better of the idea. Orgel said, “We got to thinking how almost sacred Dickens’ Christmas Carol has become with many people and decided it might not be good taste to have Magoo caricature Scrooge too broadly.” So, it was established that the comical Magoo would play his first serious role in a cartoon. Mister Magoo was given just a few comic moments. As the show opens, he, in his classic nearsighted manner, mistakenly enters a restaurant, rather than the Broadway theater stage door. But before long, Mister Magoo is where he is supposed to be, on stage as Ebenezer Scrooge. The opening night of A Christmas Carol begins.

Once the play starts, viewers meet the stingy, grumpy old Scrooge, busy hoarding his money and refusing any holiday cheer. As the play unfolds, he’s visited by the ghost of his old business partner, Jacob Marley, who warns him to change his selfish ways or suffer the consequences. From there, Scrooge is taken underwing by three more ghosts – Christmas Present, Past, and Future – each one giving him a glimpse into how his life choices have affected those around him. During Christmas Present, Scrooge sees his clerk, Cratchit, with Cratchit’s family and infirm son, Tiny Tim. The Cratchit family count their blessings despite their impoverished circumstances. During his Christmas Past, Scrooge visits scenes from his greedy youth. Then, the final ghost, Christmas Yet to Come, shows Scrooge a lonely future that helps him realize the error in his ways. By the end, he’s had a total change of heart and wakes up on Christmas morning ready to spread joy and generosity to the Cratchit family and beyond.

When the Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol initially aired on NBC in December 1962 it was the culmination of a full year’s work by more than 300 people. Barbara Chain was hired to write the adaptation, and she stuck closely to the original Dickens’ story. Music and lyrics were composed by Jule Styne and Bob Merrill, both famed on Broadway. They provided a hummable and catchy soundtrack.

Sheet music for “The Lord’s Bright Blessing” from *Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol*. Box 1, Darrell Van Citters papers, Collection No. 12908.

The comedian-actor Jim Backus, who by then had become the well-established voice of Mr. Magoo, was enlisted on the project. Animation director Abe Levitow and his team of animators brought Dickens’ characters to life.

Artwork from *Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol*. Box 2, Darrell Van Citters papers, Collection No. 12908.

The hour-long TV special was, as producers had hoped, a hit with kids as well as their parents. Some 35 million people watched the show. For owners of color televisions (which in 1962 were still a luxury), Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol offered a rainbow of delightful scenes.

Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol became the first prime-time animated holiday special, breaking ground for other Christmas classics like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and A Charlie Brown Christmas. Magoo’s success in playing Scrooge also led to an entire NBC television series, Famous Adventures of Mr. Magoo, in which Magoo played historic characters running the gamut from Noah to Frankenstein.

The Darrell Van Citters papers at the American Heritage Center contain an interesting assortment of materials for Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol fans. There are scripts, sheet music, production materials and interviews with cast and crew members as well as Lee Orgel’s scrapbook full of reviews and articles. Van Citters’ research files for his book titled Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol: The Making of the First Animated Christmas Special, give further insight into the behind-the-scenes creation of a holiday classic.

Post contributed by AHC Writer Kathryn Billington.

Posted in Animation history, Holidays, television history, Uncategorized | Tagged 1962, Abe Levitow, Animated Television, Animation Archives, Bob Merrill, Broadway Adaptations, Charles Dickens, Christmas Carol, Christmas specials, Darrell Van Citters, Holiday Programming, Jim Backus, Jule Styne, Lee Orgel, Mister Magoo, Musical Animation, NBC Television, Television Firsts, UPA (United Productions of America), Vintage Television | 2 Comments

Designing the University of Wyoming: The Architecture of Agricultural Education

Posted on December 16, 2024 by ahcadmin

When the University of Wyoming opened its doors in 1887, agriculture was more than just another field of study—it was a cornerstone of the institution’s mission. The Morrill Act of 1862 had established land-grant universities across America with a clear purpose: to provide practical education and support agricultural research. UW would fulfill this mission for the state of Wyoming, bringing agricultural education and research to its communities.

In those first pioneering years, the College of Agriculture, established in 1891, didn’t need much physical space on campus—because most of its work happened in the field. The real laboratories were the experiment stations scattered across Wyoming’s varied landscape: Laramie, Lander, Saratoga, Sheridan, Sundance, and Wheatland. While few students were enrolled in formal college programs, these stations were buzzing with activity, tackling the practical challenges faced by Wyoming’s farmers and ranchers.

Man holds up his hat to show the heigh of the barley. Another holds a label reading “Hanna Barley, Spring Plowing.” This 1911 photo was taken at the Laramie Agricultural Experiment Station. Box 20, B.C. Buffum papers, Coll. No. 400055.

By 1912, it was clear that agricultural education needed a proper home on campus. Enter William Dubois, the architect who would leave an indelible mark on UW’s campus. Having already completed Merica Hall in 1908, Dubois designed what would become a pioneering structure in campus architecture—Agricultural Hall.

Construction of Agricultural Hall, 1913. S.H. Knight Collection, Coll. No. 142, Negative No. D1-2403.

Agricultural Hall, shown around 1928. This west facing building fronted Ninth Street and had a drive off the street. By 1941, the facility was struggling to accommodate growing student enrollment and equipment needs. Box 14, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167, Box 14.

When its cornerstone was laid on January 24, 1913, few might have guessed that this building would introduce an architectural tradition that would influence campus design for decades to come. While earlier campus buildings featured red brick, Agricultural Hall broke new ground with its tan pressed brick exterior, setting a precedent that future university buildings would follow.

But Agricultural Hall’s innovations weren’t just skin-deep. Of the five earliest surviving campus buildings, it was the only one constructed with fireproof concrete and steel, rather than wood. Its spacious classrooms, flooded with natural light from large, paired windows, and its generous corridors would prove remarkably adaptable over the decades—a testament to the forward-thinking design.

Agricultural Hall’s adaptability proved significant over time. Though the 1969 Pharmacy Building was initially planned with the hall’s demolition in mind—intending to create a courtyard where the historic building stood—these plans changed. Instead, a 2005 renovation project creatively connected Agricultural Hall and the Pharmacy Building into the Health Sciences Center.

Images showing current Health Sciences Center and the integration of Agricultural Hall. Photos from College of Health Sciences websites.

The integration preserved one of the university’s earliest academic buildings while demonstrating how historic structures can be adapted for contemporary needs. Today, Agricultural Hall’s west façade maintains its historical integrity, standing as testament to both William Dubois’s original design and thoughtful preservation efforts.

But long before Agricultural Hall found its new purpose in health sciences, the College of Agriculture faced its own expansion needs. By 1944, with World War II still raging but victory on the horizon, UW was already planning for the future. The impending G.I. Bill promised to bring waves of veterans seeking education, and the College of Agriculture needed room to grow. After years of planning and construction, 1949 saw the laying of the cornerstone for a new Agriculture Building on Prexy’s Pasture.

Designed by Frederick Hutchinson Porter, the new building bridged architectural eras. While it paid homage to the Collegiate Gothic style with its symmetrical composition and decorative stonework, its clean lines hinted at the modernist designs that would soon follow. By fall 1950, two units were open for use, though full occupancy wouldn’t be achieved until 1952.

The story didn’t end there. As the college grew from 300 students and 30 faculty in the early 1950s to 700 students and 120 faculty by 1982, the building grew with it. A massive six-story addition in 1981 more than doubled the building’s size, though some now view the addition’s towering presence and architectural disconnect from the original structure as unfortunate.

Agriculture building shown in 2015 with the 1980s addition looming in the background. Photo by Carol M. Highsmith. Library of Congress.

Campus view looking east, ca. 1982. Agricultural Hall is still untouched in its original place just north of the round Classroom Building in the bottom section of the photo, but the new Agriculture building with its addition is now in place on the north side of Prexy’s Pasture. Photo File: Colleges and Universities – University of Wyoming – Aerial and General Views.

Display iconography, such as this by sculptor Robert Russin on the Agriculture Building harkens back to the system of agriculture in the early twentieth century. Photo from page 81 of *University of Wyoming Historic Preservation Plan* by Megin Rux, July 2015.

Behind the main building, the agriculture complex once included a beloved campus fixture—a sales room where the university community could purchase cheese, ice cream, and other dairy products fresh from UW’s dairy farm. Though the sales room closed in the 1970s and was eventually demolished in 2013, many alumni still fondly remember its treats.

Today, the building houses not just classrooms and offices, but also the fascinating University of Wyoming Insect Museum, home to more than a million preserved specimens, including 400-year-old glacial remains of the now-extinct Rocky Mountain locust and 40-50 million-year-old insects preserved in amber. The UW Insect Gallery, located in room 4018 of the Agriculture building is the public-viewing area for the museum. The gallery is open weekdays from 9:00 AM to 4:00 PM.

Display of butterflies at the UW Insect Museum. The museum offers the only research collections of insects in the state of Wyoming. Photo from museum’s Facebook page.

UW’s agriculture buildings are more than just campus landmarks—they’re physical reminders of how agricultural education has evolved since 1887. From the innovative design of Agricultural Hall in 1913 to the massive expansion in 1981, each architectural decision reflected the changing needs of Wyoming’s agricultural community. While not every choice was universally praised (the towering 1981 addition being a notable example), these buildings have successfully adapted to serve generations of students and researchers.

Looking at these buildings now, it’s clear that they’ve done exactly what they were meant to do: provide a home for agricultural education in Wyoming, even as that education has grown far beyond what the original builders could have imagined.

Explore More Campus History

Want to see how Agricultural Hall and other historic UW buildings have evolved over the decades? Check out our virtual exhibit “Keeping History Alive: 136 Years of Progress,” which combines historic photos from the American Heritage Center’s collections with contemporary campus images to show how the University of Wyoming has changed—and stayed the same—since 1887. For even more about campus sites, visit our exhibit “University of Wyoming: A Brief History of Campus.”

From Old Main’s original tower to the architectural innovations that Agricultural Hall pioneered, discover the stories behind the buildings that shaped campus life.

Posted in Agriculture, Architecture, Campus Heritage, Uncategorized | Tagged Agricultural education, Agricultural Hall, Campus Architecture, Frederick Hutchinson Porter, Historic Buildings, Morrill Act, Prexy's Pasture, University of Wyomig Agriculture Building, University of Wyoming, University of Wyoming Agricultural Experiment Station, University of Wyoming Insect Museum, William Dubois (architect) | Leave a comment

‘It’s in My Heart’: A Lakota Chief’s Descendant Bridges Past and Present in Wyoming

Posted on December 9, 2024 by ahcadmin

I had the opportunity to listen to many interviews conducted for the American Heritage Center’s Wyoming Voices Project. It’s an oral history project, which means it is a collection and study of historical events and information using recordings of interviews done with individuals with personal knowledge of the past.

These interviews included individuals from all walks of life, people born in Wyoming or people who moved to Wyoming, people who were doctors, lawyers, business owners, teachers, and many other professions. All the individuals interviewed shared amazing stories from their lives and how Wyoming is a special place. All were interesting in their own way, but one interview stood out to me. This was the interview completed with Donovin Sprague, a member of the Miniconjou of Lakota tribe.

Donovin Sprague. Photo courtesy Sheridan College.

Sprague was born on the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation in 1953, in Dupree, South Dakota. His great-great-great-grandfather was Chief Hump and, as he explains, “That name was originally Canku Wakatya in Lakota, which translates to High Backbone, further translated, they said that’s the buffalo hump.” Sprague devoted a large amount of time to learning his family history and the history of the Lakota tribes.

Location of tribal headquarters. https://sdtribalrelations.sd.gov/tribes/Cheyenne-River-Sioux-Tribe.aspx

Sprague graduated from Dupree High School in 1971, and he began working in construction, ranching, and jobs that were around the reservation. He received his undergraduate degree from Black Hills State University and his master’s degree from the University of South Dakota. Sprague is now a historian at Sheridan College in Sheridan, Wyoming.

Being in a college setting and having a strong knowledge of Native American history allows Sprague the opportunity to initiate and support American Indian studies and societies. Sprague began two chapters of the American Indian Science and Engineering Society called AISES, one at Black Hill State University and another at Iowa University. Sprague is also a musician, stating: “Music is a big part of my life, it’s as big as anything.” Sprague owns multiple outlets for vinyl records across South Dakota and in Gillette Wyoming.

During the oral history with Sprague, he was asked about the best aspect of being Native American. Sprague responded, “The best thing about Native American or American Indian is just the uniqueness of one kind of people of the First Nation, what are the first people here, and knowing that on the land of separate characteristics…” The Lakota think of well-being, or medicine, as a wheel that consists of bravery, generosity, respect, and wisdom. If an individual is ill, it is important to look at those four values.

In the South Dakota penitentiary, around 60% or more of the population is native. When Sprague has provided talks at the penitentiary, the prisoners “just clung to me, like for the historical and this family genealogy type stuff.” Sprague’s knowledge allows others to connect with their history and know who they are, “I know where I come from and it’s in my heart and it gives me that strength.”

Sprague has a strong connection to his past and a vast knowledge of Native American history that he shares with others. His interview shed light on many topics that I had no previous knowledge of and allowed me to learn the life story of an individual who has a strong presence in his own right. Learning the different stories of people around Wyoming allows me to have a deeper appreciation for the rich history and cultures that make up the state.

Interviews that are part of the Wyoming Voices project will be available in 2025.

Post contributed by former AHC intern and University of Wyoming student Adrianne Blum.

Posted in Interns' projects, Native American history, oral histories, Uncategorized, Wyoming history | Tagged AISES, American Heritage Center, American Indian Studies, Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation, Cultural Heritage, Donovin Sprague, Higher Education, Indigenous Culture, Lakota, Miniconjou, music, Oral History Interviews, Sheridan College, Tribal History, Wyoming Voices oral history project | Leave a comment