Tales of Archival Terror!

Record of the Month!

As the days grow shorter and a slight chill sets in, many of us wistfully think of witches, ghouls, and things that go bump in the night. The month of October, with the ancient holiday of All Hallows’ Eve has long been associated with macabre tales and ghostly fables that terrify. In that tradition, this month we are featuring tales of archival terror! Below are two true tales to make any archivist or lover of historical objects tremble with fear...

The Storm!

Image courtesy of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration Central Library 

‘Twas a dark and stormy day in the year 2018; the archives staff had just settled into a newly renovated facility. Despite the weather, the staff continued with their work conducting research, fulfilling record requests, and digitizing records. Late in the day, the winds began to howl and the clouds swirled and darkened. A flash and thunderous rumblings signaled that a tempest was brewing. The rains fell in sheets drenching the sodden parking lot and causing the alleyway next to archives to resemble a flowing river. As the sounds from the storm roared, a few staff members ventured to the reference room to see the gale. Little did they know, a liquid monster, known to kill and maim records, was now amongst them...

In spite of the motion outside, an eerie stillness had taken the office. One staff member went to place a volume back in the collections space (stacks), in preparations for the end of the day. She opened the door slowly and a loud whooshing sound met her ears; her blood ran cold. Water was gushing from a small hole attached to a drainage pipe. The liquid monster was shooting three feet in the air and pooling fifteen feet away under the shelves of the first row. Water was also discovered to be dripping from the ceiling onto the collections, seeping in under doorways, and running like blood down the walls. Springing to action the staff did what they could to save the victims of the liquid monster and prevent it from returning. For a time it seems the staff had kept the monster at bay. However, on rainy days the liquid monster can still be seen lurking...

 

The Tape

Once upon a midday dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While carefully cataloguing, suddenly there came a ripping,

Cracking and sticking, what vile thing was gluing, fusing these pages four?

“‘Tis something small,” I murmured looking close, “fusing these pages four

Only this and nothing more.”

 

Ah, how distinctly I remember this volume once had splendor, 

With soft leather, and patterns that surrender impressions of yore. 

Eagerly I wished to save it;—vainly I had sought to remit

Damages brought by spaces sun lit— spaces sun lit and mold spore.

Someone had attempted to repair, with tape, stressed pages which tore.

Damaged here for evermore.

 

“Tape!” said I, “thing of evil! Excreting acid, staining pages!”

Kindness meant by repair, but archival practice they did ignore.

Destruction they did assure, with tape the volume would not endure.

The damage permanent, eating pages both behind and before.

Powerless to undo, future reader your mercy I implore.

It could be used nevermore.

To learn more about what you can do to protect your own family archives from these horrors, please feel free to contact us by phone at 740-670-5121 or email archives@lcounty.com. Please also check this Archival Care Brochure.