abraham lincoln

Every productive graduate of the United States of America’s public school system knows what today is:   Abraham Lincoln’s birthday.  This particular February 12th is a special one, because it also commemorates the 200th anniversary of his birth.  Lincoln was born in Hodgenville, Kentucky, and grew up in Illinois — in both cases, living very rural pioneer’s life, in what was the westernmost reaches of the United States at the time.  So the story goes, despite  his humble start, Lincoln was educated, eloquent, and measured in his leadership, making him one of the most endearing and respected presidents in history.   A few summers ago, my family visited a Civil War reenactment, and a tall, lanky gentleman was sporting the Lincoln costume of a top hat and a beard, posting for pictures and handing out pennies to children.   Our youngest — who had already claimed Lincoln as his favorite president ever — was absolutely amazed that he could get a picture with Lincoln, but then take home a tiny copper disk with Lincoln’s image on it…a monetary gift from the spirit of Lincoln himself.

When Lincoln was young, of course, pennies didn’t have his picture on them; that would have made things more difficult for the young lad.  The copper penny was actually the very first coin authorized by the government to be produced by the U.S. Mint.   As we’ve seen before, the U.S. had a difficult time fixing its currency through the first half of the 19th century, so numerous varied designs appeared during Lincoln’s youth.  The Mint stuck mostly with classically-Greek women’s profiles, but the coin was much larger than today.   These “large cents” were either 27mm or 29mm, or almost as large as the current half-dollar coin.  Small cents came into use shortly before Lincoln was elected president.   In 1857, the Mint began producing “flying eagle” pennies, at the current penny size.   Minting problems, however, were aggravated by design problems with the flying eagle, so in 1859 one of the most famous coins of the 19th century first appeared: the Indian Head penny.

The Indian Head penny was the standard cent for fifty years, from just before Lincoln’s election, to the 100th anniversary of his birth.   In 1909, a new penny was introduced into circulation as part of President Teddy Roosevelt’s ambitious currency redesign.  New York engraver Victor D Brenner, a Lithuanian Russian immigrant, was selected based on his previous work for Roosevelt.  The design was a hit, and Brenner’s design has remained in use for a hundred years, an amazing amount of time for a single coin’s obverse.

One consistent design feature of the penny, even going back to the large-cent period, was a wreath on the reverse.    Each wreath was a little different, varying forms and foliage, but consistently round, with the coin’s value in the center.   The Lincoln Cent had a wreath of wheat stalks on the back, earning them the nickname “wheatstraw pennies”.    In 1959, however, the obverse design was changed — commemorating the 150th anniversary of Lincoln’s birth, Mint engraver Frank Gasparro produced a design depicting the Lincoln Memorial.   The Memorial had been built about 37 years before, and was a excellent pair to match Jefferson’s Monticello on the reverse of the 20-year-old nickel design.

As of today, however, the Memorial has been exchanged for a new design, to celebrate Lincoln’s 200th.   Four designs, in fact, are being issued, each depicting a different period in Lincoln’s life: one depicting a log cabin of his youth; a young Lincoln reading a book representing his life in Indiana, a Lincoln participating in the Indiana Legislature; and the construction of the Capitol representing his presidency.   Three of the designs will start appearing in the next several months, but today the Log Cabin Penny is available from the Mint.  For a hundred years, the penny has been a symbol of one of our greatest presidents, and this new series intends to further express our affinity for his life and works, with these commemorative designs.

Is a museum where objects go when they die? Or is it a place where the potential of objects is unleashed?

Those were the preliminary questions posed the Unleashing the Power of Objects session I attended at the joint MPMA AMM conference this year, led by Steve Friesen (Director of the Buffalo Bill Museum and Grave), Kiersten Latham (School of Library & Information Management, Emporia State University), and Eli Paul (Director of the National World War I Museum).

The session covered more than the “hide, protect & preserve” versus “show, educate & share” philosophical debate, but rather focused on the sacred and secular powers of objects. Some scholars call these kind of experiences “numinous”.

One example of this is Abraham Lincoln’s hat.

Top Hat Worn By Lincoln At Ford Theater

Lincoln and his hat are very popular. Lincoln is mentioned so often at conferences, at workshops and during lectures that hubby and I joke, “Everybody loves Lincoln.” It’s not an exaggeration. When the Smithsonian created an exhibit of 150 of the most popular (powerful) objects in their collection, Lincoln’s hat made the cut.

“It’s not unusual to see people raise their heads from examining this thing and see tears in their eyes,” said J. Michael Carrigan, the exhibition director, of the hat.

Why we are all so attached to Lincoln’s hat is debatable. Maybe a hat just makes him seem real, human, and vulnerable; maybe we just are drawn to an everyday object from a time long ago, which draws the line between yesterday and today. Lincoln certainly had no idea that his hat was or would become iconic. He didn’t opt to wear it to become powerful or memorable, it was just the fashion at the time. In fact, his top hat was a cheap hat made of cardboard with beaver fur glued on. But whatever ‘it’ is, the hat’s power is more than a symbol; it’s a connection.

When we stand before it, we “feel” or “know” Lincoln in a way that reading, visualizing, or even seeing a photo of it can’t compete with. We want to see it — make pilgrimages to see it; we’d touch it if we could. We have numinous experiences with that hat.

The Smithsonian is aware of the power of Lincoln’s hat, which means the museum is now facing a difficult decision.

Lincoln’s top hat is in bad shape — the kind of bad shape where it’s days are numbered. (Being a cheaply made hat of 143 years, it’s lucky to still be here to cause visitors to weep.) The Smithsonian can either prolong the object’s life, putting it away in the temperature controlled dark for ‘future generations’, or leave it on display and have it deteriorate before the our eyes — slowly, but surely.

The riddle this poses is rather like those questions posed at the top of this post; the ones listed in the museum conference session description. Is it better to preserve and protect the object — letting it physically survive (at least a while longer) at the expense of it’s death to the public; or is it better to let it live and be loved until it physically passes away — allowing the people who come to stand before it have their numious experience?

Let’s say you are the one who has to make that call; what do you do?

Hubby, ever the pragmatist (and believer in technology), says he would put it away under the faith that better conservation methods will one day be available, allowing the old hat to be safely displayed to the delight of those future generations.

But I wonder if Lincoln’s hat, long hidden and perhaps forgotten, would then be returned to display only to be placed in front of people who didn’t have the same connection to it…

Since we don’t know exactly what causes us to stand before Abraham Lincoln’s top hat and have such profound reactions, we can’t necessarily say that the hat’s ‘it’ factor will be here engaging and evoking people as it does today.

So, is it better to save the hat for future people who may not care so much, or to allow it fade away to nothing in front of the people who care so much they weep?