Anthony Wright de Hernandez About Special Collections and University Archives, Civil War, Faculty, University History

Dr. Bud: Life and Legacy of Dr. James I. Robertson, Jr.

written by history graduate assistant Miles A. Abernethy

Introduction

Earlier this month, I completed researching and putting together an exhibit on the professional life and legacy of Dr. James I. Robertson Jr. Known to friends and fans as “Dr. Bud,” Robertson taught Civil War history at Virginia Tech for over forty years, from 1967 to 2011. Even before the term came into vogue, he taught the Civil War like a public historian, seeking to appeal to broad audiences. He achieved this through vivid storytelling, connecting people to the lived experiences of Civil War figures and making events long past seem moving and compelling. His classes at Virginia Tech appealed to all majors and class levels, regularly teaching over one hundred students every semester for most of his time at Tech. Robertson can be said to be part of the university’s growth, especially in the nascent History Department, lending his skills to grow the department as well as the liberal arts broadly. The exhibit covers Robertson’s contribution to the Civil War Centennial Commission, as well as his life and legacy connected to Virginia Tech. I want to share my experience with the collections I used, as well as how I thought about this exhibit, Robertson, and Civil War history in general.

Ironically, I used very little of Dr. Robertson’s own collection (Ms1994-021 James I. Robertson Jr. Papers), and the making of this exhibit was a way for me to identify how the collection can be used, and if it can be expanded. I actually processed a new accession to the collection in 2022 which included his filing system for Virginia units in Confederate service and for Civil War history of Virginia’s counties and cities. In addition, this accession included records on Robertson’s involvement with battlefield preservation, and correspondence with fellow Civil War historians. However, if interested parties want to gain a better understanding of Robertson’s teaching and non-publishing life, they would be disappointed, as the collection is about two-thirds of book drafts for Robertson’s major publications in the 1990s and early 2000s. Luckily, SCUA holds a record group for the Virginia Center for Civil War Studies (RG 21/8 Virginia Center for Civil War Studies), the Civil War academic center that Robertson founded in 1999. This collection contains papers regarding Robertson’s founding and running of VCCWS through his retirement in 2011, as well as documents from outreach events from the 1970s through 2000s. It also has papers concerning Robertson’s tenure as chair of the History Department from 1969 to 1977. It is from this collection that I gathered most of the extant papers and information about Robertson’s professional life at Virginia Tech.

Two other collections proved useful as well. The J. Ambler Johnston Papers (Ms 1974-012) contains correspondence between Johnston and Robertson. Johnston, a 1904 Virginia Tech graduate and career architect, took special interest in Civil War history and communicated regularly with Robertson on the Civil War and on Virginia Tech matters before his death in 1974. Robertson’s biographical Vertical File also proved extremely useful, containing information about Robertson’s perception in the wider Virginia Tech, state, and national community. Helpfully, it also has an article on Robertson’s job as a football referee for the Atlantic Coast Conference, a part of his life that I really wanted information on. While these other collections helped build out the exhibit, they highlight the fact that Robertson’s own collection is severely lacking in information about his non-publishing academic and personal life. What is and isn’t in a collection is the choice of the archivist, the late Robertson, and his living relatives, but as a significant figure in Civil War historiography, public history, and Virginia Tech, we ought to have more information in a centralized collection about him.

James "Bud" Robertson in a referee's uniform.
9 February 1987. Bud Robertson in a referee’s uniform. Gene Dalton. Roanoke Times & World News.

Civil War Centennial Commission

Unfortunately, one of the most impactful episodes of Robertson’s life is essentially absent from the extant archival materials, beyond a few articles and mentions: his work on the Civil War Centennial Commission from 1961-1965. The Civil War Centennial Commission (CWCC) was active from 1957 to 1965, and sought to organize public commemorations of the war’s one-hundredth year. Robert Cook’s Troubled Commemoration (2007) is the current authoritative work on the subject, and focuses on the developments and hurdles faced by the Commission. Conceived by Civil War historians and amateur “buffs,” factions soon emerged in the national and state organizations on the best way to organize events and by what means. Professional historians clamored for a serious and academic remembrance, while business figures argued for more popularly accessible events. Sectional divisions became even more salient as Congressional leaders were appointed to the commission; Northern and Southerners clashed as debates over whose version of Civil War history would prevail. The state commissions, ostensibly under the purview of the national leadership, took their own approaches that varied between the sections.

Tensions came to a head in April 1961 when the CWCC planned to hold its fourth annual conference in Charleston, South Carolina to commemorate the beginning of fighting at Fort Sumter. Officials feared for the safety and inclusion of Madeline Williams, a Black woman on the New Jersey state commission. Segregationist commissioners worked to block Williams’ attendance, in concert with other efforts to block what they saw as revisionism to their “Lost Cause” understanding of the war. With the Commission teetering on failure, President John F. Kennedy stepped in, pressuring the CWCC to meet at desegregated federal military bases. Unwilling to acquiesce to Kennedy’s compromise, many of the staunch segregationists resigned, allowing professional historians to take more active leadership. Leading the revived CWCC were Professors Alan Nevins and James I. Robertson.

Cook characterizes Robertson generally as an effective and straightforward executive that had a genuine interest in telling a serious but appealing story of the Civil War to the American public. Even more important was the pairing of Nevins and Robertson: a Northerner and Southerner respectively, that seemingly balanced any sectional preference that detractors of the CWCC were eager to point out. The Commission’s fortunes soon improved, and Robertsons former professor Bell I. Wiley of Emory noted that he “works hard, maintains a cheerful outlook and wins friends for himself and the Commission by his open cordiality.”1 The new professionalism of the CWCC earned praise from Kennedy, resulting in an awards ceremony with the President in which Robertson was present. The image of both figures is on display in the exhibit.

President John F. Kennedy Accepts Civil War Centennial Commission Medallion
17 April 1962. AR7173-C. President John F. Kennedy Accepts Civil War Centennial Commission Medallion. Abbie Rowe. White House Photographs. John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, Boston. Public Domain.
Robertson describing his experience helping prepare for the funeral of John F. Kennedy.

Robertson was a product of his time however, and his appointment as the executive director under Alan Nevins was a strategic move to satisfy the worries of the segregationists who feared that the CWCC would become a tool of the Civil Rights Movement. While Cook describes Robertson as genuinely committed to positive civil rights change in the South (albeit at a gradual pace), he recognized that the success of the CWCC required working with conservative Southern commissioners and telegraphing some of their feelings into the national commission. Cook reflects one of these unfortunate moments, as Robertson generally chafed at a request by Nevins and Wiley to write African American soldiers as playing a larger role in winning the war for the Union in a student handbook.2 Despite a conservative historical outlook, Robertson’s work helped cement the centennial as an important historiographic moment. Although the public largely lost interest in the commemorative activities after 1961, the stabilization of the CWCC helped maintain academic and public interest in the Civil War through the twentieth century.

Time at Virginia Tech

I contend that Robertson’s time as a professor at Virginia Tech is his most important contribution to the public vitality of Civil War studies as well as the study of the liberal arts at Virginia Tech. Arriving in 1967, Robertson’s public popularity helped grow the fledgling History Department in its early years. His successful tenure as chair between 1968 and 1977 is indicated by the steady growth of bachelors and masters degrees awarded during that same time, as well as an expansion of history curriculum.3 This is all accomplished while Virginia Tech was, and remains, an engineering and science-focused institution. Robertson’s style of storytelling-teaching attracted history and non-history majors alike, and his wider popularity meant that his Civil War classes were usually attended by hundreds of students. One amusing document that is featured in the exhibit is an October 2000 memo from Associate Vice President Thim Corvin to Robertson concerning the total number of students that had attended Robertson’s classes. Corvin’s office presumably underestimated the number, prompting Robertson to respond with his own personal data that he spent a whole evening compiling, along with some remarks about the effectiveness of Corvin’s people. According to his data, Robertson had taught over twenty thousand students by the late 1990s. If we take that at face value, then by his retirement in 2011, Robertson likely taught over thirty thousand students during his time at Virginia Tech.4

Robertson describes his time teaching at Virginia Tech.

Robertson was a public historian before the term became vogue in history circles, seeking to appeal to broad audiences. In addition to his classes, he organized and led outreach classes and events beginning in the late 1970s. Although classes and lectures had long been part of offerings by Civil War Round Table organizations, Robertson’s partnering of academic prestige with public outreach meant that people who had passing interest in the war or wanted to take a specific course could do so through extension classes. Early organized lectures included the “Campaigning with Lee” series, as well as a featured lecture that Robertson delivered in Squires Student Center in 1979.5 By the early 1990s, steady attendance at these public events prompted Robertson to begin the Civil War Weekend conference in 1992 that continues to this day. Events like these bring the public into spaces with professional historians, enhancing everyday understanding of the Civil War, its meaning, and the historical agents that took part.

Legacies

Dr. Robertson passed away in November 2019, right as I was beginning my time as an undergraduate at Virginia Tech. At that point, I hadn’t decided on a career in Civil War public history and wasn’t really aware of the Civil War history significance of Virginia Tech. I was, however, aware of Dr. Robertson and the emotional connection that he fostered between himself and his students and the war they all studied. I recall meeting people at Civil War Weekends or on online forums that describe the loyalty that he inspired in students, even on a generational level. My father, Robert Abernethy, is a 1990 Virginia Tech graduate and took Dr. Robertson’s Civil War class. We have a signed copy of Robertson’s A.P. Hill: Story of a Confederate Warrior that my dad had signed while he was a student. His academic interest in the war was invigorated by Robertson, and he passed that passion onto me.

Robertson’s professional guidance influenced many historians today. Jonathan Noyalas, a Virginia Tech Masters alumnus who studied under Robertson, is head of the McCormick Civil War Institute at Shenandoah University. Patrick Schroeder, a Virginia Tech student who attended Robertson’s earliest classes, now serves as Historian at Appomattox Court House NHP. Chris Mackowski, author and editor-in-chief of Emerging Civil War noted in a tribute that Robertson instilled in him the confidence and reassurance that newer historians need to stake out on their own.6

Robertson’s work is felt directly at Special Collections and University Archives. His work to donate thousands of Civil War era books and manuscripts has elevated SCUA to one of the largest repositories of Civil War information in the United States. I always like to tell people why I study the Civil War. Plainly put, it is America’s most defining event. Even one hundred and sixty years later, Americans are living out the changes in government, politics, war, and society that the conflict produced. Like the war that he devoted his life to studying, Dr. James I. Robertson has left us a complex legacy, but one that has elevated our understanding and appreciation for the quintessential American experience.

01 September 1986. Virginia Tech history professor, Dr. James Robertson. Bob Veltri. Imagebase. Special Collections and University Archives, Virginia Tech, Blacksburg, Va.
  1. Robert Cook, Troubled Commemoration: The American Civil War Centennial, 1961–1965 (Baton Rouge, Louisiana State University Press, 2007), 218.
  2. Cook, 222.
  3. George G. Shackleford, “Department of History at VPI & SU,” RG 15/13 Department of History.
  4. “Memo to Thim Corvin,” RG 21/8 Virginia Center for Civil War Studies, Box 1, Folder “Student Solicitation.”
  5. “Gone With The Civil War: History that Historians Overlooked” Virginia Tech Union’s “The Not Your Average Lecture Series,” MS 1994-021 James I. Robertson Jr. Papers, Oversize Folder 1.
  6. “Tributes to James I. “Bud” Robertson Jr.,” Virginia Center for Civil War Studies, Accessed November 19, 2024. https://civilwar.vt.edu/tributes-to-james-i-bud-robertson-jr/.
archivistkira About Special Collections and University Archives

Summer technology changes at Special Collections and University Archives!

Please be aware that both Special Collections and University Archives (SCUA) and the University Libraries will be going through several major technology changes in the next few weeks. During this time, you may notice that resources are moving to a new “look,” are temporarily unavailable, or have broken links. We appreciate your patience while we work through these changes and have an opportunity to make decisions and update resources behind-the-scenes. We apologize that some resources may be interrupted, but our services should not be.

As we get through these transitions, we’ll have a new post or two to talk about what these changes mean for visitors, researchers, and staff at SCUA, and if we expect some longer-term temporarily solutions in place.

We encourage you to contact us if you have questions (specref@vt.edu or 540-231-6308)–we’re here to help, especially when things are temporarily disrupted!

vtspecblogger About Special Collections and University Archives, Faculty, Local/Regional History, Physics

Physics and The Man: Cold War Science and Dr. Robert Marshak

Robert Eugene Marshak was born October 11, 1916 in the Bronx in New York City to Jewish immigrant parents Harry and Rose Marshak. He excelled at school, attending City College of New York for a brief time before finishing his undergraduate degree at Columbia University. He then went on to receive his PhD in Physics from Cornell in 1939. He and his thesis advisor, Hans Bethe, researched the role of fusion in star formation. This work landed him a spot on the Manhattan Project in Los Alamos a few years later, where he assisted in the development of atomic weapons technology. Of particular note were his contributions to our understanding of how shock waves behave during high energy events such as nuclear explosions, which led to such waves being known as “Marshak waves”. 

A group photo of physicists from the Shelter Island Conference

After the war, Marshak returned to New York to take up a position in the Physics Department at Rochester University in Rochester. In 1947, as a participant in the Shelter Island Conference, Marshak presented a hypothesis theorizing the existence of a new class of subatomic particle, which was shortly to be confirmed. After becoming head of the University of Rochester Physics Department in 1950, Marshak established the Rochester Conference, now known as the International Conference on High Energy Physics, which still meets to this day. His work on weak interactions was instrumental to establishing the electroweak theory, which won Richard Feynman and Murray Gell-Mann a Nobel Prize. (Note: This statement regarding Feynman and Gell-Mann Nobel Prizes is incorrect. See correction in the comments.)

Marshak stands with a number of others at a Physics conference.

It is unclear what Marshak’s beliefs were before World War II, but, following his work on the Manhattan Project, he became a staunch supporter of open science and an end to the militarization of science and technology. He worked tirelessly to enhance scientific communication, protest nationalist scientific policies, and promote peace. While people who knew him frequently described him as being prickly, arrogant, and difficult to work with, he nevertheless used his position and renown within his field to support and advocate for scientists who found themselves persecuted by their own governments. He maintained an active correspondence with physicists and scientists all over the world and attended conferences, symposia, meetings, and workshops to learn and share his own knowledge. 

 

A letter to Marshak from Albert Einstein.

 

In 1970, he was offered the position of President at City College of New York, which he had once attended. He accepted, and ran the school for 9 years. As time wore on, he found he missed physics and teaching, so in 1979 he took up the position of University Distinguished Professor of Physics at Virginia Tech, where he stayed until his retirement in 1991. In 1983, while at Virginia Tech, he also served a year-long term as President of the American Physical Society, which is the largest organization of American physicists. 

Marshak, dressed in regalia, shakes hands with two other men, also in regalia, as he receives an award.

One incident in particular highlights Marshak’s commitment to scientific freedom and openness.  Andrei Sakharov was a nuclear physicist from the Soviet Union. His life had a similar trajectory to Marshak’s. He too worked on nuclear technology for his country, and he too came to believe that weaponizing science was a sure path to war and destruction. However, his life turned out much differently than Marshak’s. In the 1950’s and 60’s, Sakharov began to advocate for peace and an end to nuclear testing. He became a well-known dissident within his own country, work which would eventually lead to his arrest, exile, and a Nobel Peace Prize. It is during this period where his story intersects with Marshak’s. In Marshak’s papers, one can trace the American’s growing concern with the danger and persecution facing his Soviet colleague, as well as his efforts to bring the situation to the attention of the global community and prevent harm from coming to Sakharov, who by now was known much more for his political actions than for his work as a physicist. Marshak did not face such overt threats, but his support of and communication with Soviet scientists throughout the Cold War period brought him under scrutiny at a time when the specter of communism made any connection to the USSR a dangerous one. He was forced to undergo several investigations by the House Un-American Activities Committee as a result of his work. Despite this, Marshak never stopped being an advocate for the peaceful sharing of science and technology. 

This only skims the surface of Marshak’s papers. The finding aid for his collections can be found here.  

 

This project was supported by a grant from the American Institute of Physics.

Aaron Purcell About Special Collections and University Archives, African American History, Civil War, Local/Regional History, New Acquisitions

A Collection of Distinction: The William S. Newton Papers, 1862-1879

A few days ago, a colleague asked me to distribute a job announcement from a nearby university. This is a pretty common practice and there are a lot of job searches underway. But this one caught my attention because the position description referred to building “distinctive collections.” I found the phrasing as an attempt to be clever, but more importantly it highlighted an archival challenge—to decide which archival and manuscript collections are the most or least important. Assigning the value of “distinctive” to collections is problematic since all collections are unique in some way and thus distinctive. Perhaps “distinctive” is another way of saying that the origins or provenance of the collection are significant (e.g., an unpublished manuscript that unearthed in J.D. Salinger’s backyard), that the collection is the “crown jewel” for the institution, or perhaps that it was just very expensive. 

To me, a distinctive collection is one that has the potential to attract great research interest and can be used by researchers for multiple purposes. It is easy to pursue a collection, either through purchase or as a donation, that you believe has great research value, but it is always unknown whether others, such as colleagues and researchers, will have the same opinion. I spend a large amount of time considering which archival and manuscript collections would be a good fit for Special Collections and University Archives at Virginia Tech. Most days, I spend some amount of time talking or corresponding with potential donors, reviewing dealer catalogs, seeking opinions from others on potential acquisitions, or searching through online auction listings. My goal is to identify collections that support research and the major collecting areas that we highlight in the blog. Working closely with collections once they arrive is not my normal routine, but sometimes I remain involved in organizing and creating access to the material that I helped bring in the doors.

As a recent example, I have spent many hours working with the William S. Newton Papers, 1862-1879, which is one of my favorite acquisitions in the past five years. The story begins in early 2017 when I saw a listing for the collection in an auction catalog. Newton’s story fit well with the department’s collecting areas and researcher groups. The collection includes about 170 letters Newton wrote to his wife and children during the Civil War. The letters document the Civil War experiences of an Ohio surgeon serving in Virginia and West Virginia from 1862-1865. The collection also includes a postwar letter describing his experiences at the Battle of Cloyd’s Mountain, which occurred in Pulaski County, approximately twenty miles from Blacksburg. Newton was assistant surgeon of the 91st Ohio Volunteer Infantry and near the end of the war served as surgeon of the 193rd Ohio Volunteer Infantry.

William S. Newton spent most of his Civil War service in Virginia and West Virginia. The following map includes many of the locations mentioned in Newton’s letters. John Formby, The American Civil War: A Concise History of Its Causes, History, and Results, Maps (New York: Scribners, 1910), map 10.

As for some background, William Smith Newton was born on February 6, 1823, near the small town of Harmer, in Washington County, Ohio. The town, now part of Marietta, was located where the Muskingum River flows into the Ohio River, with Virginia (now West Virginia) located on the other side to the south. He was the son of Oren and Elizabeth Fuller Newton. His father, Oren, was an important figure in the community and was involved in farming and the grindstone industry. Like other members of his family, Newton attended Marietta College. He completed his freshman year, 1842-1843, but he did not continue with courses or graduate from Marietta College. Instead, he took an interest in medicine and enrolled as a medical student in fall 1843 at the Medical College of Ohio in Cincinnati. Newton graduated in 1845 from the Medical College of Ohio and returned to Harmar.

In 1845, he married Frances Ann Hayward of Gallipolis and they relocated to Ironton, Ohio several years later. They had seven children during their marriage. Three of their children, Oren Hayward (1846–1858), Lewis Garland (May–October 1848), and Fanny Lillian (1857–1858), died before reaching adulthood. In 1862, when William enlisted in the Union Army, they had three children, Edward (Ned) Seymore (born 1850), Valentine Mott (born 1852), and Kate May (born 1860). Another child, John Beverly (born November 9, 1863), arrived during Newton’s military service.

In the fall of 1862, Newton was appointed assistant surgeon of the 91st Ohio Volunteer Infantry which has just been organized into five companies at Ironton. For the next three years, Newton wrote a steady stream of letters to his wife and children. Those incoming letters were kept together and most likely stayed with the Newton family after the war. At some point, the letters ended up in private hands, most recently with a well-known collector of antique firearms. Sometime in the 1970s, the owner of the collection at that time allowed most of the collection to be microfilmed for use at the Ohio Historical Society in Columbus. Thus, only a handful of researchers who either knew how to contact the owner or were willing to suffer through using microfilm made use of the collection. My search yielded one master’s thesis and a few books on Civil War military history that referred to the William S. Newton Papers. Clearly, access to the collection was limited and it deserved to be in an archival repository. I shared these details with colleagues on campus and in the department and all agreed that the Newton Papers would be a wonderful addition.

On Tuesday, February 21, 2017, I waited on the phone as a live bidder for the Newton Papers to be auctioned. After several bids, we were the successful bidder and a few weeks later the Newton Papers arrived Blacksburg. In the weeks and months that followed, the collection was given a catalog record and put in the backlog for later processing. In the meantime, I shared the news with many potential researchers and invited them to come look at the collection even though it was still unprocessed. In the months that followed I continued to suggest the Newton Papers to graduate students and other Civil War researchers. Surprisingly, I received a very small response and the collection was hardly used.

Despite limited interest from researchers, I was still convinced that Newton deserved more attention. In 2019, I decided to make the Newton Papers a priority. I began working through the included transcripts (which were rife with errors) and in just a few weeks I had become very familiar with the collection. A surprise offer of weekly hours from a graduate student from the history department to help with the transcription work kept the project active. As a potential output for all this work, I had a random conversation with a colleague at the University of Tennessee Press about the collection and they suggested that it would be a great fit for the Voices of the Civil War series. After a lot of consideration and some hesitation, I decided that a book of Newton’s edited letters (not an interpretative work) would be a great way to promote the collection and draw researchers to Civil War collections at Virginia Tech.

I was astonished with the depth of the letters and the range of topics discussed. Newton’s letters focus on many significant topics of the Civil War era—military maneuvers, race relations, politics, medical practices, and life among officers in camp. Newton reported on his work as a surgeon. He managed several hospitals (both in seized buildings and in the field), tended to patients, ordered supplies, arranged for the wounded to return home, and informed families of the loss of a loved one. Newton’s letters mention taking care of soldiers who he knew personally from his medical practice. Although a non-combatant, Newton experienced frequent skirmishes with Confederate raiders and was part of several significant military campaigns. His letters describe significant battles in West Virginia and Virginia, most notably the Second Battle of Kernstown, the Battle of Opequan (Third Battle of Winchester), and the Battle of Cedar Creek. Of note, Newton’s October 8, 1867 letter to Ohio adjutant general Benjamin R. Cowen documents his most harrowing moments during the Civil War—Newton’s capture by Confederates following the Battle of Cloyd’s Mountain in May 1864, his role in operating on wounded Confederate General Albert Gallatin Jenkins, and his brief imprisonment and release from Libby Prison later that month. Other letters describe his working relationships with officers in the 91st Ohio Volunteer Infantry.

After the Battle of Cloyd’s Mountain in May 1864, William S. Newton and other medical staff were captured by Confederates and sent to Libby Prison (pictured above) in Richmond. Newton stayed at Libby Prison only three days, but later attributed his poor health to the deplorable conditions he experienced there. Library of Congress, http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/ppmsca.41823

Newton’s letters reveal the close connections between friend and enemy. For example, in October 1863, Newton was given charge of a Union hospital located in Charleston, West Virginia. In an October 10 letter, he explained “Our Hospital is in one of the finest houses of the town, and I am quartered in the parlor with a nice bed, cane bottom chairs & sofas, all belonging to some rebel, but I will take good care of them, and see they are not abused.” Two days later, Newton wrote “Last evening on examining the portraits hanging around the parlor, I discovered one that looked like John Ruby. On going to the book case, I found two or three with John C. Ruby written in full. I then enquired and found that not only his, but that of wife sister-in-law, Mother-in­law, & Father-in-law, all in very large gilt frames, was this not a discovery.” Ruby was born in Gallia County, Ohio, which may explain why Newton knew him and his family. Newton concluded the letter saying “John Ruby is Quartermaster in 22nd Va. Reb Reg., and I am here living in his house & using his furniture. So the world moves, and such is war.”

The limited status of emancipated slaves in society was another element in Newton’s correspondence. In August 1863, Newton’s letters first mentioned Mary Ann McDonald, a former slave who was emancipated by the Union army following the raid of Wytheville. It is likely that Mary was sent to the hospital for examination and Newton claimed responsibility for her wellbeing. He decided to send Mary to Ironton to assist his wife and family. As part of the plan, Ned and Mott met her in Charleston, West Virginia, and took her back to Ironton. He was concerned that “negro traders” in Charleston might “steal her away from the boys before they get a boat,” but she safely made it to Ironton. Newton explained to his wife that Mary “belongs to you, that your interests are hers.” He suggested that “the boys teach her to read” and possibly write, but Newton made clear that Mary did not have any level of independence. In an August 23 letter he told his wife “You can make, or mold her into anything you desire.” The addition of Mary to the Newton household was not an easy adjustment. The letters were unclear on the details, but rumors about Mary’s trustworthiness circulated through Ironton and found their way back to Newton. The breaking point was the accusation that Mary had stolen personal items from the family. Some of the lost articles were later discovered and had simply been misplaced instead of stolen. Newton’s inquiries confirmed that all accusations against Mary were unfounded. Nonetheless, by October Newton’s wife had lost all trust in Mary and discharged her from service. She was no longer mentioned in their correspondence and there are no existing records to trace what happened to Mary Ann McDonald in the decades that followed. These and other letters make clear the overt racism throughout white society during this period.

In August 1863, William S. Newton sent Mary Ann McDonald, a former slave who was emancipated by the Union Army following the raid of Wytheville, to Ironton to work for his wife. In this August 23, 1864 letter Newton explained that Mary could learn how to ready and write, but he outlined few other freedoms. A few weeks later, Mary was wrongfully accused of stealing personal items and the arrangement ended.

Newton’s letters expressed a deep interest in family affairs. His letters advised on family matters such as buying and selling property back in Ohio, naming his newborn child, advising his teenage son Ned to live an upstanding life, prescribing medicines to remedy illnesses in the family, and preparing a new farm for when he could return home. His letters conveyed a deep sense of loneliness, especially for his wife.

As a possible cure for Newton’s homesickness, two of his children, Ned and Mott, visited him in camp. During the day, while he attended to the sick and wounded, his children would fish in nearby rivers and streams for their evening meal. On July 5, 1863 Newton explained:

Ned hardly has time to accompany me. He is very busy fishing, spends the day catching the little ones for bait, then at night puts out his trot, with 30 or 40 hooks. He wants me to tell you that he caught one on Friday morning weighing ten lbs. The soldiers had a good laugh, for he used one of the boat oars as a club, with which to pound the fish over the head, because it did not hold still. The only wonder is, that he did not knock it loose from the hook. He was alone at the time, and captured five in all.

In a July 5, 1863 letter to his wife Newton described the fishing exploits of his teenage son Ned.

My favorite letters were those written directly to Ned. In a February 24, 1864 letter, Newton scolded Ned for a variety of offenses. He wrote:

What would be your feelings, if a man, should you see another man, a stranger, impose upon your mother; would you not risk your life in resenting the imposition, or insult! If not, you are not of my blood or kindred. Then how much more despicable is he, that would abuse, or offer an insult to his own mother! . . . You certainly are not demented, or crazy, yet how could I suppose a boy almost 14 years of age, could commit such indiscretion. I truly hope no one knows of it.

In addition to disrespecting his mother, Ned was also playing with firearms. In the same letter Newton wrote:

Did you think it would afford me any happiness, to know that you were taking the gun out, contrary to my express command, and have you reflected that if, some accident should take place, how much misery you might cause to your parents & others.

Like any parent would, Newton outlined a remedy to get Ned back on the proper path—penmanship. Newton explained:

Character is said to be exhibited in the penmanship. If yours is the true exhibit of character, how uneven & unbalanced it must be. I fear your energy & resolutions are short lived, and to little purpose. Can you not do better! Will you not try! And before I see you, let me see some specimens of improvement, both in penmanship & character. Your happiness as well as mine depends upon it.

In a February 24, 1864 letter William S. Newton advised his son Ned that penmanship built character and contributed to a successful life.

Newton’s later letters, especially those written in 1865, focused on his dreams for the postwar. He purchased a farm in West Union, Ohio from Benjamin F. Coates (colonel in the 91st Ohio Volunteer Infantry) and advised his boys to begin preparing it for the family. There was a clear sense that Newton believed that farming represented an idyllic lifestyle and way to teach his children the value of hard work and patience. He wrote more letters to Ned during this period, and it appears that the teenager was again having behavior problems but took an interest in joining the church. Newton wanted both of his boys to be men of business instead of “town loafers.” Newton’s instructions for growing crops, cleaning fencerows, and tending to a new home were aimed at teaching Ned important life lessons in a more wholesome setting with fewer temptations.

After the war, Newton and family settled in Gallipolis and not in West Union. Newton resumed his medical practice, served as postmaster in Gallipolis, and participated in reunion activities with his former regiment. Included with the collection is a copy of Newton’s pension application. He suffered from several maladies which he attributed to his brief imprisonment at Libby Prison in 1864. Newton died on Saturday, November 18, 1882, just a few months shy of his sixtieth birthday. 

Newton’s letters are as much about daily life and society of the 1860s as they are about the military or medical details of the Civil War. The more I followed clues in Newton’s letters the larger the puzzle of people, places, and topics became. I connected with descendants of the Newton family in Ohio and Florida, who were excited to learn more about their ancestors. In the months that followed, which included working remotely because of the COVID-19 pandemic, I continued to work on the project. During the summer of 2021, I finalized the processing and posted the finding aid to the Virginia Heritage database. The book of edited letters was accepted as part of the University of Tennessee Press’s Voices of the Civil War series and is scheduled to be published sometime in the spring of 2022. My involvement with this collection was significant, but the good news is that there is much more for researchers to discover by reading Newton’s letters.

I suppose the Newton Papers count as a distinctive collection for Virginia Tech because they were expensive, expansive in content, and touch on multiple research areas. But, the more I thought about the concept of a “distinctive collection” the more I wanted to avoid the term which sounds like certain collections should be prioritized from the larger whole and treated differently. Instead, the Newton Papers are an excellent addition to the already strong collecting areas of the Civil War in Virginia and Appalachian history at Virginia Tech. In other words, on its own merits the collection is wonderful, but it is even more significant when placed alongside other similar primary sources. As usual, I will be on the lookout for more collections that have such attributes. In the meantime, please come to the first floor of Newman Library and spend some time with the William S. Newton Papers, which are significant, unique, and far more than just distinctive.

LM Rozema About Special Collections and University Archives, Events, University History

We Are Better Than We Think: April 16th remembrance exhibit online

Metal piece by artist Eric W. Schuttler, VT Class of 1993, inscribed “We are better than we think, and not quite what we want to be.” (H00203, Ms2008-020)

Every year Special Collections and University Archives, in partnership with the University Libraries and Virginia Tech Student Engagement and Campus Life, hosts annual remembrance exhibits to highlight the outpouring of love and support the university received in the aftermath of the tragedy of April 16, 2007. Although we are unable to host substantial physical exhibits this year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, we have continued the remembrance exhibit online.

The exhibit We Are Better Than We Think: Selections from the April 16, 2007 Condolence Archives highlights the items Virginia Tech received following the events of April 16th. It features artifacts, children’s letters, poems, and more with messages of love, hope, and peace, most of which have not been displayed for exhibition before.

Visit the exhibit online at https://tinyurl.com/April162021Exhibit.

The title piece of the exhibit, “We Are Better Than We Think” by Eric W. Schuttler (pictured above) is on display in Newman Library near the 2nd floor entrance, April 12 thru April 23 during the library’s open hours. (No other items are on display.)

For more information on the university’s remembrance events, including the virtual 3.2-Mile Run in Remembrance, please visit https://www.weremember.vt.edu/.

  • April-16-2021-Exhibit-Cards-pg1
  • April-16-2021-Exhibit-Cards-pg2
LM Rozema About Special Collections and University Archives, Events, University History

Unknown Origin: April 16th remembrance exhibit online

“We will never forget” poster with pictures of Norris Hall and a black VT ribbon, a poem, and the names of the 32 victims. (P00526, Ms2008-020)

Every year Special Collections and University Archives, in partnership with the University Libraries and Virginia Tech Student Engagement and Campus Life, hosts annual remembrance exhibits to highlight the outpouring of love and support the university received in the aftermath of the tragedy of April 16, 2007. Although we are unable to host physical exhibits this year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, we have continued the remembrance exhibit online.

The exhibit Unknown Origins: Anonymous gifts in the April 16, 2007 Condolence Archives highlights the messages Virginia Tech received from unknown individuals, organizations, or places following the events of April 16, 2007. It features anonymous donations and gifts of unknown origin, paying homage to those who want to be part of the mourning and recovery process but do not necessarily want to be known. 

Visit the exhibit online at https://tinyurl.com/April16Exhibit.

For more information on the university’s remembrance events, including the virtual 3.2-Mile Run in Remembrance, please visit https://www.weremember.vt.edu/.

vtspecblogger About Special Collections and University Archives, Local/Regional History, Science and Engineering

Avery-Abex Metallurgical Collection: All Plugged In

I began work on processing the Avery-Abex Metallurgical Collection at the beginning of November 2019, and boy has it been a rollercoaster so far. This collection, which spans 248 cubic feet, consists of case files, general company records and correspondence, photo negatives, glass plate negatives, photographic prints, and some 40,000 metal samples encased in resin plugs (more on these later). The collection has largely been languishing in Special Collections since it was acquired in the mid-1990s.

Over the years, several student employees have chipped away meaningfully at portions of the collection, but the majority of the boxes remained untouched. Because my time to process this collection is limited, I will need to strike a comfortable balance between getting all the work done on the remaining boxes before the end of July- a high priority- and processing the materials to the highest useful level- also a high priority. (Note that I did not say to the highest possible level. There is a point of diminishing returns to optimizing arrangement and description, and archival resources are scarce enough that frequently this equation must favor a more rough-and-ready processing style in order to reduce backlog and make more collections accessible faster.)

This balance is especially important to consider, given the large size of the collection. The boxes that much of the material arrived in are significantly bigger than the standard sized archival record carton, which necessitates a certain amount of space planning for both pre-and post-processed containers. The increased volume makes them very heavy and awkward to handle, and so much more prone to accidents when retrieving them from shelves.

I havent dropped any yet, but hauling them around really makes me appreciate the elegantly dainty standard sized boxes Im moving the records into. This is infinitely more so the case with the boxes of glass plate negatives, which are substantially heavier than their paper-holding counterparts and have the additional challenge of being very fragile. Let no one tell you that the life of an archivist is boring or sedentary.

Another quirk of this particular collection is that the boxes were more or less put where they would fit in the offsite storage facility when they were first acquired about 25 years ago, without recording their shelf locations, which makes finding the boxes a bit of a scavenger hunt. Pictured is one of three aisles of shelves at the storage facility. Attempting to process the boxes in any particular order would be a waste of time as a result, and so Ive had to change my approach to arranging this collection.

Instead of refoldering and replacing the records into their final resting places, I am processing box by box, keeping careful track of what ends up where, so that I can rearrange things as needed once I finish and have a better idea of what order best suits the materials. This way is much faster on the frontend than doing the boxes in order, and the surprise of not knowing whats going to be in the next box has proved a lovely diversion from the occasionally tedious tasks of pulling boxes, refoldering, relabelling, and filling in spreadsheets.

My favorite part of the collection so far has definitely been the metal samples. There are approximately 40,000 squat resin plugs, each with a small chunk of metal embedded in it with one surface exposed for testing, and a serial number etched on the outside. They are quite unique, in my experience, and are an instant point of interest for anyone who sees them. Their quantity, their different sizes and shapes, and the complete obscurity of their purpose to the uninitiated, makes them a valuable showpiece for the collection. However, these characteristics also make them a challenging processing project. Several have sprouted highly colorful oxidation growths over the years, which are fascinating and delicate. I have not yet decided whether they are more valuable remaining intact, or if I should attempt to clean off this reaction residue, knowing full well that it will likely grow back in time, as the fresh metal is exposed to air and humidity.

Oxidation on various metal alloys

Another slight wrinkle in processing that Ive encountered was the significant presence of mold on the cabinets housing the metal samples in the basement storage room used for some Special Collections and University Archives materials. The samples themselves were not in immediate danger, because resin and metals do not tend to support mold growth, but the mold would need to be killed and the plugs cleaned before they could be moved into appropriate archival boxes and placed near other, more vulnerable materials. I had planned to process the plugs first, but this had to be put on hold until the mold issue was dealt with. Luckily, we managed to employ a company specializing in mold remediation fairly quickly, and the problem was taken care of before it could spread to other collections being stored in this space. Now, the work of cleaning and boxing up the sample plugs can commence.

jojacks2 About Special Collections and University Archives, Feature Items, Just for Fun, Rare Books

A Peter Newell Tangent

With the growth of a literate middle class and the greater availability and affordability of paper and printing, childrens literature came into its own in the mid-19th century, and here in Special Collections and University Archives, we hold many of examples of colorful, richly illustrated childrens literature from the late 19th / early 20th century.

Included within our holdings are at least two movable books, publications that enhanced young childrens reading experiences by allowing them, though the use of pull tabs, flaps, and other gimmicks, to simulate action. Among our holdings are at least two examples of movable books: a reprint of Ernest Nisters Revolving Pictures (1892) and a 1979 reprint of The Dolls House by Lothar Meggendorfer, considered the father of the pop-up book, a form that continues to be very popular today.

Though his books didnt rely on movable parts, Peter Newell (1862-1924) was an innovator in creating novelties that appealed to young readers. The rare book collection includes two unusual books published by Newell. In both The Shadow Show and The Hole Book, as well as his other works, Newell manipulated the book form to help tell his stories.

Peter Newel (frontispiece from Through the Looking-Glass (1901))

Peter S. H. Newell (1862-1924) was born to a family of farmers in Illinois. He studied at the Art Students League and by the time he was in his mid-twenties had become a popular illustrator for various periodicals, his work regularly appearing in such publications as Harpers Weekly, Scribners Magazine, and The Saturday Evening Post. He was particularly noted for his imaginative caricatures, some of which would be regarded today as racially insensitive.

In The Hole Book (1908), also one of Newells more popular works, the story follows the path of an errant bullet as it causes mayhem through a neighborhood. The storys inventiveness is found in Newells imaginative use of an actual small, round hole that pierces each successive illustration in the book.

A sample illustration and rhyme from The Hole Book

Similarly, The Slant Book (1910) tells the story of a runaway baby carriage, with the story being enhanced by the books shape, which, instead of the usual rectangle, is a slanted rhomboid. (Newman Library holds a 1966 reprint of The Slant Book in its circulating collection.) Newells idea for The Slant Book led him to file a patent claim, in which he wrote, In books made according to my invention the shape of the book itself and of the pages therein suggests the action or motion in which is intended to characterize the illustration contained therein. Newell was granted patent 970,943 on September 20, 1910. It was one of several patents granted to Newell for book and toy designs.

Newells A Shadow Show (1896) relies on the translucency of paper for its gimmick. Rather than telling a story, the book simply presents a series of rather oddly contrived colored illustrations. When the reader flips the page, the previous pages illustration appears in silhouette, revealing a much different subject. Unfortunately, the copy in the rare book collection has not held up well over time, and the illustrations have all transferred to adjacent pages, making the silhouettes difficult to distinguish.

A sample from A Shadow Show(Due to the condition of the original, this digital copy has been altered for illustrative purposes.)

Newell is perhaps best remembered for his first book, Topsys and Turvys (1893) and its two sequels. In the Topsys and Turvys series, each page contains an illustration and accompanying first line of a rhyming couplet as a caption. When the page is inverted, a much different illustration is revealed, and the caption appearing below the flipped image completes the rhyming couplet, explaining the illustration. Illustrations from these books continue to be frequently used as examples of optical illusions. A digitized version of The first Topsys and Turvys book may be found on the Library of Congress website.

In addition to providing illustrations for popular magazines and publishing his own books, Newell also illustrated the works of other authors of childrens literature, chief among them, perhaps, being his illustrated edition of Through the Looking-Glass (1901), which also may be found in the rare books collection. Later, Newell tried his hand at comic strip illustration. For 18 months in 1906/1907, Newells The Naps of Polly Sleepyhead appeared among such acknowledged comic strip pioneers as Buster Brown and Little Nemo in Slumberland. A second strip, Wishing Willy, wasnt so successful and lasted through only six installments in 1913.

Id planned here to provide the briefest of overviews on our holdings in childrens literature but instead got sidetracked by this Peter Newell tangent. Suffice it to say, the few books mentioned here comprise just the smallest part our childrens literature holdings, many of which overlap with our collection focus areas in the history of food and drink, the Civil War, local and regional history, etc. Together, these works can provide a different perspective on their subject matter or be used to examine popular culture and early childhood education in earlier eras. Or they can can simply be enjoyed for what they were intended: fun reading for the young and young at heart.

 

vtspecblogger About Special Collections and University Archives, Events, Local/Regional History

Fries Textile Plant Records Processing Project Post-Mortem

Here I am, on the final day of my grant-funded project to process the records of the Fries Textile Plant. Its been a fun year, and Ive truly enjoyed working on this project. Wrapping it up the past couple of weeks, Ive found myself quite pleased with the amount of work Ive managed to accomplish. Go me! 

Shameless self-promotion aside, Id like to do a sort of post-mortem on the past year. More and more new (or not-so new) archivists are finding themselves in time- and scope-limited jobs, which require a different set of skills than the endurance race into posterity that is the lot of the traditional archivist. Rather than thinking about the long term health and wellness of the archives as a whole and wearing a variety of necessary hats as a result, we temporary members of staff are typically asked to execute very particular orders along a strict timeline, and then- frequently- to leave, occasionally with our work unfinished. It can be heartbreaking, and freeing, and terribly restrictive, and wonderfully lax.

Ultimately, the success of the project- and your own success as a project archivist- depends on the project youre employed on, the team youre working with, and your personal career goals. Unfortunately, almost none of us can afford to be picky these days when hunting for archival work. While I understand the temptation to take the first job offered in the field (boy howdy do I, but thats another story), often it is the jobs taken out of desperation that lead to the worst fits professionally.

Luckily, that is not the case in this instance. I have loved working with the textile mill records, the other staff in Special Collections and University Archives, and the people of Fries. I have learned an enormous amount about the region, the textile industry, and being an archivist from my time here. I liked it so much, tomorrow Im embarking on another collection processing project here at Virginia Tech, this time with the records of a defunct metallurgical company. To put a nice bow on the past year, though, I offer the following summary and thoughts.

The majority of my time this year was spent in processing the records. Previous student employees had made a dent in this work, but there still remained a large number of boxes as-yet untouched. The day-to-day of processing involves a certain tolerance for repetitive tasks, but the frequent discovery of interesting documents in this particular collection kept me engaged and happy with my job. Processing is often the bulk of project positions such as these, so its a valuable skill to be able to find joy it. This photo shows a (tiny) fraction of the staples I pulled this year, a task which does not give me joy but which does offer a certain small satisfaction.


By far the most rewarding part of the project has been working with the people of Fries, and bringing this collection back to them in the form of 3 community events I put together over the course of the year. The Fries-ians are warm, passionate, and deeply committed to their town, which was both refreshing and touching. They were wonderfully eager to interact with the collection and learn more about the place that they lived in. It has been an honor to facilitate their historical interest. This picture was taken of attendees at the first event I put on in Fries, March 30, 2019.


My work also involved a small digitization project, resulting in a digital exhibit hosted on the Special Collections and University Archives site, which can be found here. I am pleased with the result, overall. I gave several presentations on the project and my work for peers within Virginia Tech and the larger archival community as well, to make them aware of the collection and share what I had learned. I love being able to share my efforts, and I hope that these presentations have shed light on what we do in the archives and helped those facing similar processing projects.

Finally, Id like to close with some thoughts about what Id do differently, if I had it to do over. First, I would put more effort into the community engagement with the events I put on. My points of contact for setting up the events were frequently busy, so relying on them to spread the word in town about these events led to a poorer turnout than I had hoped for, given the deep interest in town history that I knew many residents had. In future, I will do more advertising for community events to make sure that everyone who might want to attend knows about them.

Second, Id have liked to take more careful notes on items within the collection that I wanted to digitize. Several times, I found myself with such helpful comments as Folder 7, really neat, with no further context. In the haze of processing, I had prioritized moving on to the next folder over giving my future self any but the vaguest clue. This led to several instances of poring through folders, looking for the particular document I had been referencing. I will save time in the future by taking a few extra seconds to describe the materials I found really neat.

Lastly, I would have liked to do more digitization. I got the necessities done, the fascinating and the context-giving documents featured in the online exhibit, but ultimately I wish the whole collection could be made available online. I know that this is rarely feasible and occasionally not particularly desirable, but with this collection, I want very much for the people of Fries to be able to look through it at their leisure without needing to come up to Tech and sit in the reading room. Personally, I believe that as an archivist, access is my highest calling. In an ideal world, this small town would have its entire history to peruse at will. However, this is not that world, so I must be content with the circumstances as they lay. 

All that being said, I am proud of what Ive accomplished here, and I hope the next project will be even more successful. 

LM Rozema About Special Collections and University Archives, University History

Special Collections and University Archives: a new name for a venerable department

We are very pleased to announce that our department has taken on a new addition to our name: Special Collections and University Archives (SCUA, for short). The University Archives have always been a meaningful part of our department, and this name change recognizes its significance in a more visible way.

This is just a recent change in a long line of them in SCUA’s nearly 50 year history. Virginia Tech has been collecting manuscript collections, university archives, rare books, artwork, and historical maps and photographs since the early days of its history, and many of those items constitute the foundations of our department’s collections. However, before SCUA’s establishment, the activities we engage in today were all separate. For example, the rare books were kept in locked cages serviced by the Reference Department, and an Archives section was created in 1968/1969 with Mary Larimer as archivist.

In 1970, the new Library Director Gerald A. Rudolph formally established Special Collections, combining the rare books, manuscripts, university archives, and historical photographs and maps into one department. The first head of Special Collections was the aforementioned Mary Larimer. During her tenure, she expanded the southwest Virginia collections, such as the acquisition of the J. Hoge Tyler Family Collection, Ms1967-002; began the science and technology collecting area, including the John W. Landis Papers, Ms1969-001; and acquired a number of American literary works through the estate of professor Dayton M. Koehler, including both the Dayton M. Koehler Papers, Ms1971-002 and his rare book collection. The University Archives also expanded, with President Hahn sending all presidential records from before 1960 to the department and encouraging the members of the Board of Visitors to donate their papers in 1973.

Form letter for soliciting manuscripts, 1973
Form letter for soliciting manuscripts, 1973, RG 23h/6/1, Records of Virginia Tech Special Collections

In 1979, Glenn L. McMullen became the second head of the department. Special Collections partnered with the International Archive of Women in Architecture, founded by Milka Bliznakov in 1985, and the department established the Archives of American Aerospace Exploration (AAAE) in 1986 with the opening of the Christopher C. Kraft Papers, Ms1985-001. The University Archives collection began to expand with papers and publications of faculty in addition to the official university records already obtained. A number of rare books collections were acquired, including the Bailey-Law Ornithology Collection in 1982 and the William J. Heron Speculative Fiction Collection, starting in 1989.

Glenn McMullen, 1983, RG 23h/6/1, Record Group Vertical Files
Archives of American Aerospace Exploration, 1986, Donation by Kraft opens collection, RG 23h/6/1, Record Group Vertical Files
Bliznakov establishes archive, 1985, RG 23h/6/1, Record Group Vertical Files

Stephen Zietz was the third director of Special Collections from 1993 to 1995, and he spearheaded the development of the Friends of the University Libraries, an advisory board to help build collections and funding. During his tenure, Special Collections began collaborating with other departments on campus to digitize some of its collections and launched its website. The Elden E. “Josh” Billings Collection of over 4,000 volumes on the American Civil War was cataloged, and processing the university presidents, such as President Hahn’s 100+ box collection, and vice presidents became a priority. The University Archives also began actively collecting materials related to underrepresented and traditionally marginalized groups at the university, such as the Black Women at Virginia Tech Oral History Project, Ms1995-026.

Friends to meet, 1994
Friends to meet, 1994, RG 23h/6/1, Record Group Vertical Files

The Director of Scholarly Communication, Gail McMillan took on the additional role as the fourth director of Special Collections in 1995. Both departments were under the aegis of Digital Library and Archives (DLA), starting in 2000 with McMillan as DLA director. From 2001 through 2003, Jennifer Gunter King served as the fifth head of Special Collections, but following her departure, McMillan once again became de facto head in her role as director of DLA.

While part of DLA, Special Collections began digitizing materials in bulk, including the creation of ImageBase and the Bugle yearbooks for online access of these materials. McMillan was also influential in the development of the history of food and drink collecting area, acquiring the Peacock-Harper Culinary Collection in 2000 and the Ann Hertzler Children’s Cookbook and Nutrition Literature Collection & Endowment Fund in 2006. That same year, the department also expanded with a newly renovated reading room.

Culinary collection at Virginia Tech libraries celebrates 10 years, 2010
Culinary collection at Virginia Tech libraries celebrates 10 years, 2010, RG 23h/6/1, Record Group Vertical Files

Following an outside consultant’s report in 2006, Dean Eileen Hitchingham decided to split Special Collections and DLA into separate departments. In 2007, the seventh and current director Aaron D. Purcell was hired. Major developments in the department over the past few years have included the mass creation of finding aids in Virginia Heritage, the first redesign of the department website in 20 years, the active collection of LGBTQ+ history at Virginia Tech and in Blacksburg, expansion of the processing of the University Archives records and publications, and of course, the new and improved name Special Collections and University Archives.

Sharing Our Voices: A Celebration of the Virginia Tech LGBTQ Oral History Project, 2015
Sharing Our Voices: A Celebration of the Virginia Tech LGBTQ Oral History Project, 2015, RG 23h/6/1, Record Group Vertical Files

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