Guest posting by Bob Beatty, Vice President for Programs, American Association for State and Local History
I have been a history geek for as long as I can remember. It is a mantle I wear proudly and one that was confirmed in various Beatty family vacation photos I recently looked through. There are images of me in costume in an old time photo booth, standing by cannons at various sites, and looking at the Gettysburg statue of General John Buford, an ancestor.
Our vacations could be tracked in the family station wagon trips we made from south Florida through the Southeast and up the Eastern Seaboard. We took trips to St. Augustine, Savannah, Charleston, Richmond, the Civil War battlefields in and around Northern Virginia, and to Gettysburg. We visited forts, antebellum homes, battlefields, just about anything historic that I had found in some random guidebook or had seen on one of the brown signs by the highway (you follow the brown signs too, right?).
I developed a very deep and personal connection to historic sites through these visits and a love for not only the sites and artifacts, but for museums and cultural institutions as a whole. I felt a connection to the history I so loved to read in books that continues in me to this very day.
In the 1980s, I visited Drayton Hall in South Carolina for the first time. I remember initially being unimpressed by its bare-bones interpretation. I was so used to antebellum homes dressed out in all their finery that Drayton Hall’s interpretation and emphasis on historic preservation was initially lost on me.
But after spending an afternoon there, I was soon hooked. I recognized that history doesn’t have to be gussied up to be interesting or to convey something important about the past, an idea I have carried with me philosophically ever since. And to this day, I still covet the rice spoon that my mother got on that visit.
A few years later, we visited again (shown in the attached photo). I was in my sophomore year of college and a history major. While not yet sure what the heck I was going to do when I finished school, my deep and abiding connection to history and historic places remained. I did not imagine that one day I might be in a position to impact others like I had been impacted at Drayton Hall.
My parents initially instilled in me the importance of preservation of historic and natural resources. Probably the most tangible lesson I learned about preservation came during a trip to Florida Caverns State Park (if memory serves). The caverns were lit, emphasizing the beauty of the natural formations. As we toured, our guide implored us not to touch anything. “You’ll have the chance at the end of the tour.” And have our chance we did. At the end, there was one stalagmite/stalactite formation that had grown together into a single column (I’ve since forgotten what that’s called, I got a “C” in geology in college). The guide encouraged us to touch it. It was black and disgusting.
This taught me a lesson that has remained with me for almost 30 years now. Without careful care or handling, our precious past would cease to exist or become sullied and almost unrecognizable.
Twenty-five years after the cave tour Marianna, Florida, and over 25 years since my first visit to Drayton Hall, I now find myself working at the American Association for State and Local History. I am now in a position to affect change and advocate for history organizations and (hopefully) make a difference in a real and meaningful way through AASLH’s programs and publications.
In many ways, my passion for my work comes directly from the deep connections to the past I made at sites like Drayton Hall. It is these “plant the seed” moments that we at historic sites and museums seek in our education and interpretive programs, yet we often have so few instances that we can point to that demonstrate how that seed has taken hold. It has taken hold in me in a myriad of ways, not least of which is my career choice, and, of course, bringing my young daughters to historic sites on a regular basis (see the photo of us at Lookout Mountain National Park a few years back).
So don’t overlook the meaningful connections you may be making with your audiences. They may simmer for years and manifest themselves in one’s career path and life’s work.
Do you have a memorable moment of inspiration at a historic site? How do you remember your childhood visits to historic sites or museums? Please share your experiences with us.





Last week, at the annual meeting of the American Association for State and Local History in Indianapolis, Indiana, Drayton Hall Director of Museum Interpretation Craig Tuminaro presented a session he organized on how historic sites are using technology and social networking tools in innovative and productive ways. Craig was joined by Kara Edie, Visitors Services and Marketing Coordinator at the 








Most people want to break out of jail, but some members of the Drayton Hall Interpretation staff wanted to break into the jail –that is the Old City Jail in Charleston, SC. So, we asked Tim Chesser, a part-time interpreter at Drayton Hall, and full-time professor of English and Communications at the American College of the Building Arts (ACBA) in Charleston to arrange a tour of the jail. ACBA is the only school in the United States which offers a degree program in traditional building arts.
Now, this is not your average old jail. The current building was constructed in 1802 and has housed a few pirates, lots of Union and Confederate prisoners of war, your standard and hardened criminals and even black sailors who, between 1822 and 1865, were housed there while in port. During the 1886 earthquake, the doors were opened and the prisoners were given an “early release”. The Work House, which was on the eastern side of the present structure, was demolished after the quake due to structural damage. As punishment, owners would often send rebellious slaves to the workhouse.
The metal workers explained their project of restoring the gates on the front side of the building. We learned that iron is no longer used in ornamental metal working – steel has taken its place.
Stone masons demonstrated how they prepare measured drawings and then create templates before beginning to carve. We saw a mantelpiece so delicate that you might have thought it was a pencil sketch. Of course, “eggs and darts” were there too.
Carpenters begin by learning to frame with modern lumber and then branch out into traditional methods of framing and joining. The students showed us two methods of constructing a log structure and an example of framing created using salvaged timbers and traditional tools.