Good Historians are Ghouls
GREAT HISTORIANS ARE GHOULS
To be a good historian you have to be a ghoul. It comes with the territory. You have to be eager to paw through rubble of people’s lives and willing to bear the slings and arrows of outraged relatives. You also have to understand that in spite of your efforts, you may be thwarted within sight of your most cherished goal.
As a case in point. When I was working on a biography of Alaskan bush pilot Archie Ferguson — see ALASKA’S CLOWN PRINCE on Medium — there was a dearth of material. . Though Ferguson was no one’s fool, he was barely literate. This means there are few personal letters to reflect his passing. Thus, to complete my biography, I am being forced to rely on the most elusive of sources: oral histories.
Oral histories, however, are incredibly time-consuming. This project is no exception. Since Ferguson died decades earlierin his 70s, few of his contemporaries are still living. Many are in their eighties. Most no longer live in Alaska. All are reluctant to slander the dead. This makes it difficult to collect the primary documentation that distinguishes the average biography from the great one.
As I followed lead after lead, I suddenly discovered that I might have been born blessed. Ferguson had unknowingly given a fairly lengthy interview, two hours’ worth of stories and quips, and the tape was still in existence. It was in the possession of Dr. B**** who was retired and living in the Ozarks. Nearly dancing with joy, I dashed off a letter to get a copy of the tape. To my surprise and dismay, I got a lengthy response back which boiled down to rude ‘NO.’
As a biographer, there are two kinds of people I dread. The first are friends and/or relatives of the deceased who insist that any biography show the individual as they want him shown. This usually means that he is portrayed as a man who walked on water and cured lepers with the touch of his fingertips.
Then there are the people who have documents or recordings that I need which they will not release. Sometimes it is because they have always wanted to do a book themselves but have “just not gotten around to it.” Or they don’t want their memories sullied by the facts.
The letter I received from Dr. B**** was of the latter vintage. Explaining that he had paid a “price financially and physically” to acquire the tape, he declined to send a copy because he wanted to remember Alaska as a paradise where “innocence, good humor and realism were still to be found at the core of lives lived close to the earth.”
I expected more of a man who had a Ph. D. Every historian I know pays both financially and physically to find documents. Research is not easy work. It is time-consuming, frustrating, often boring and usually in vain. It is not financially or physically rewarding either. In terms of cash, history pays nada.
Further, the odd assortment of terms “innocence, good humor and realism” can be found in all ages. They are not hallmarks of any one era or eon. The first two never die; they only appear to pass from the scene because the observer becomes older and jaundiced. As to the third item, “realism,” I’m not sure Dr. B**** knew what he meant when he used that term.
Alas, the very people who want to preserve history are the ones doing the most to distort it. These are the people who feel that only those books which reveal the past as they view it should be published. “Don’t cloud my memory with the facts,” they cry, “I want to remember the past as I want to remember it, not as it really was.” A good example is the brouhaha over the last night in the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Whether or not King spent that night in the arms of a woman who was not his wife makes absolutely no difference when viewing his entire life in retrospect. People read books about King because of the life he led, not the women with whom he slept. The revealing of his sexual escapade will not change the impact of Martin Luther King, Jr. All the revelation has done is allowed blue noses the opportunity to spout their moral convictions. What is most amazing is that anyone cares at all.
When I received Dr. B****’s letter, I was disheartened. But I was not broken-hearted. Afterall, I am a seasoned historian and, therefore, a ghoul. I was in my 40s and he was in his 70s. I can wait. If I can’t get the tape, some other historian will. Sooner or later that tape will be released, primarily because historical documents have no monetary value. Thus it is more reasonable to donate the material to a library and take a tax deduction than to store the material in a shed.
There is a lesson in this for all those who would try to change the past by hiding the facts. Culprits can shred papers, burn memos, deep-six documents and destroy tapes. But we, the Sherlock Holmes of the scholarly world, will find the duplicates, the backups, the xerox rough drafts, the unknown third copies. On onion skin, in diaries, on film or in locked trunks in dusty attics, the documents are there. It may take us a generation, but we will find them.
Yes, Dr. B**** may have thwarted me. But there are historians behind me. What I cannot find, they will uncover. That which I cannot research, they shall reveal. And the tape I will never hear they will enjoy. Enjoy your arrogance, Dr. B***, but remember, we, the ghouls, are waiting.
[Steven Levi’s mysteries can be found at www.authormasterminds.com. His other books are available from Kindle and ACX.]
