More than a Museum (Article 33)

Most of us have toured museums. We have stood before famous paintings or valuable artifacts, with our arms crossed over our chests or perhaps behind our backs; and admired the exhibits. We likely whispered to our companions as we strolled past numerous interesting displays and then picked up the pace when an area was not so captivating.

 However, as a sign at the Metropolitan Museum of Art declares, “There are museums and then there are Museums!”  The individuals, whose reflections follow, had all recently visited the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois. As we compared our experiences we realized that each of us had seen something personal; however, we had been affected by different sections.

But, we all agreed; this is a Museum!

 One person noted that he was touched by the changes in President Lincoln as the war took its toll, another recalled the lilting music that accompanied each display, and one could not forget the display of a slave auction. One lady said that the exhibits of the Lincoln funeral processions brought back childhood memories of a much later assassination. Another woman said she was moved by the Mary Todd Lincoln gallery, and a veteran was struck by the display of letters from young men in the Civil War to their families. A mother was surprised that, for the first time, she and her young son wanted to linger in the same places.  And one Southerner said that it changed his perception of Lincoln. 

 All spoke of a sense of reverence and awe.

 The Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum is comprised of two adjacent but distinctly different buildings.  While the extensive Library is of most interest to historians, researchers, and authors, the Museum is for everyone. The Library is a gift to academia; but the Museum is a gift to all of the people.

The Museum is unique in that it does not just honor the life and accomplishments of one man, as is common with other Presidential Libraries.  Nor does it offer only one side of a horrific Civil War. Instead, it showcases an entire era and the people who lived through the most turbulent time in our country’s history; northerner and southerner, slave-owner and slave, merchant and farmer, and the soldiers who wore Union blue and Confederate gray.

 Lincoln’s boyhood, early career, and Presidential years are depicted in a series of life sized dioramas that are in amazing detail; however, the museum is not just about Lincoln. It brings the viewer in touch with literally hundreds of people as the exhibits illustrate the first 65 years of the 19th Century. The causes and effects of the Civil War are demonstrated, not just through an academic history recitation, but through the recollections of the individuals who lived in those times. Every display is accompanied by period music, paintings, photographs, newspaper headlines, and commentary by soldiers, farmers, merchants, and slaves. While some commentary is by the societal and political elites of the day, most are the reflections of common men and women who were often trying to describe the indescribable.

 It is almost impossible for any visitor to come away from the Museum without a greater appreciation for these people; especially for those who fought on both sides of the Civil War (or War of Northern Aggression as some Southerners still prefer).

 The Museum strikes a balance between the motivations of Lincoln and those of the Southern leaders, and also between the Union and Confederate causes.

 Lincoln is accurately depicted, from his innate intelligence, his wit, and especially his dedication to his primary cause as President, the preservation of the Union. However, the museum gives an honest assessment of this complex man, with his self-doubts and flaws and is not simply a crowning of “Saint Abraham.”  

Most visitors recalled a personal connection they felt as they toured the various displays and many found themselves drawn and re-drawn to a certain area.

One said that he found himself looking at four photographs of Abraham Lincoln which were arranged on a wall in progression by date; 1861, 1863, 1864 and 1865. The toll on the President was striking and the visitor began to think of how Lincoln was worn down by the enormity of the ongoing Civil War.  He said he kept returning to those four photographs and he had to wipe away tears; which, by the way, he hoped no one had noticed.

 Another said she began to listen to the exquisite companionship provided by the music which surrounded several hundred images of young soldiers, some smiling, some terribly wounded, and some dead; and she said the effect was just “so sad but somehow beautiful.” She purchased the CD of the music and said that when she listens now, the same emotions re-occur.

 A man told of not being able to leave the life sized (and very life-like) diorama of a Negro family being torn apart at a slave auction; the anguish on the father’s face as he is pulled away, the abject horror on the face of his wife, and the ten year old boy, crying, reaching out to his father, without yet realizing his totality of his loss. The visitor returned several times, each time noticing more details in the heartbreaking scene, and the enormity of the tragedy sank in. The display captured the pain of nearly four million men, women and children who, at the start of the Civil War were still only “property”; to be bought and sold by another human being.

 Then there were the images of the Lincoln funeral train and its long slow route through the Northern states to his home in Springfield; which one visitor compared to the public outpouring after President Kennedy’s assassination and remembered how she felt. Now, for the first time, she understood the sadness of so many at the death of Abraham Lincoln.  To her, it became a personal experience, not just a history lesson.

 One lady wrote that at first she could not wait to see the collection of exquisite formal gowns displayed on mannequins of Mary Todd Lincoln. The visitor was aware of Mrs. Lincoln’s fascination with intricate beading and the inclusion of several colors, a hallmark of Elizabeth Keckley, her favorite seamstress who was a former slave. Then, after admiring the handiwork, she began to read the accompanying text and for the first time realized the awful sadness that surrounded Mary; the gowns could give the allusion of gaiety, but they masked the truth. One gown in particular was worn by Mrs. Lincoln to a White House Gala, while her nine year old son, Willie, was sick upstairs in his bed. Willie died a few days later and Mary never forgave herself. Further, her only friend in Washington was Mrs. Keckley, who nursed her through a long grieving period. The visitor noted that she had only come to the exhibit to see Mary’s clothing, but was grateful that she was now able to better understand the woman to whom history has not been kind.

 Another visitor, a veteran of the Vietnam War, stood for a long time before the display of letters from young soldiers (both Union and Confederate) and noted the similarities between those letters and the ones he had written to his family and the letters his own father had sent home during the Second World War. He wrote, “These bring back my own memories. It seems war is always the same for the soldier.”

 A young mother, who had made it a point over the years to take her children to major museums and exhibits, on this day, took her ten year old son to the Lincoln Museum. She recalled that both she and her son found themselves struck by the same exhibits. She said it was the first time that they shared a common reaction as most museum excursions became a tug of war, with each wanting to spend time at different areas. Then she added, “But, not here, not at this place.”

 Finally, there was an elderly gentleman from South Carolina who had reluctantly visited with his middle aged son. He had spent a lifetime believing, and instilling in his children, that Lincoln had deliberately destroyed southern culture.  He now said “I don’t know if I had an epiphany or I have just mellowed, but I found myself changing my opinion. The Slave auction display and letters touched something within me. I just didn’t get it before. I apologized to my son.”

 The many scenes affected these visitors in different ways, but each also recalled sections that were uplifting and others that were educational. And of course, some that were humorous; after all it features “Abe” who was a great storyteller.  

 All of us agreed that we would visit again. I know I will.

 And, I sincerely hope you do too.

Contact the author at  gadorris2@gmail.com