One Foot in the Past.

As you can see, I have spent the last few posts writing about the process of moving the collections out of our old home at 1805 Pine Street. Before I move on to other topics, I wanted to take a moment and say something about the old building that served us so well for so long. The Civil War Museum of Philadelphia is the oldest chartered Civil War institution in the country. We were founded here in Philadelphia by Union veterans in 1888. Since 1922, the museum has called 1805 Pine Street home. Through the many years, the museum has taken on new names and new missions. It has seen the passing of the last of the Civil War veterans that founded it, and several generations of those who took on the responsibility of caring for their memories. It saw days when several hundred people climbed up and down its narrow stairs, and many more days when no one came to our door. It was a silent observer of our comings and goings for eighty-six years.

I first came to it as a visitor about ten years ago. I’m not ashamed to confess I feel in love with the place on that first visit and vowed to myself to find a way to work there someday. I became a volunteer there five years later. On November 1, 2004 I was hired on the do a survey of all the objects as part of an eighteen month grant funded project. At the end of the grant, I was kept on as the full time curator and have been honored to hold that position ever since. In the course of the last four years, I have spent a great deal of my time at 1805 Pine Street, mostly in the musty basement. The benefits of the experience are immeasurable to me. I was able to handle some of the most extraordinary Civil War artifacts in the world. I got to meet, talk to, and work with some of the best people I have known. The memories I take from there are very personal and very special to me, but I will spare you the stories.

So, it was a bittersweet experience when we came to the end of the move, and it was time for me to leave the old house for the last time. I know as well as anyone how inadequate the building was for the safe storage of our collection, for proper exhibition of artifacts, and for the access of our patrons. But it was a special place, filled with the phantoms of long lost memory. We museum people are a special breed and we live our lives with one foot in the past. Nostalgia is especially dangerous for us, because we bathe in it every day. It is too easy to believe the past is better, clearer, and safer. But I know that the best days of the Civil War Museum of Philadelphia are yet to come, and I look forward to the part I will play in creating them.

So when I ran my hand over the marble doorframe and walked away, I didn’t look back. I knew I had no reason. I learned during the move that the phantoms of memory swirl around the artifacts, not the house. I had packed those phantoms as carefully as every uniform, painting, and sword. The house is now an empty shell, ready to take on whatever role its new owner intends. The soul of the place is coming with us. The great thing about living with one foot in the past is that you are also a bridge to the present… and the future.