Welcome to the Kenneth Spencer Research Library blog! As the special collections and archives library at the University of Kansas, Spencer is home to remarkable and diverse collections of rare and unique items. Explore the blog to learn about the work we do and the materials we collect.
I developed Spencer’s current short-term exhibit to compliment the research I conducted about Clinton Lake and the Wakarusa Museum as an undergraduate student. While writing my thesis paper last year, I used a lot of the materials featured in this exhibit as primary sources. I hope this blog post will elaborate more on the complex history of Clinton Lake and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers from a community perspective.
Originally passed by Congress in 1917, the Flood Control Act directed the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to begin evaluating issues of flood control along tributaries of the Mississippi River. This included the longest tributary of the Mississippi River: the Missouri River, which feeds the Kansas (Kaw) River. On July 13, 1951, after a series of storms produced up to 16 inches of rain, the Kaw spilled over its banks. More than 115 cities along its path in eastern Kansas – most notably Topeka, Lawrence, and Kansas City – were flooded. In Lawrence, the river crested at 29.90 feet (11 feet above flood stage). The flood also washed out 1 million acres of land and nearly 10,000 farms. For many local community members, the Flood of 1951 represented a once-in-a-lifetime disaster. The flood forced 85,000 people to abandon their homes and amassed $760 million in damages (nearly $5 billion today).
In response, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers built a network of levees and reservoirs to prevent future flooding. The Flood Control Act of 1962 authorized funding to dam the Wakarusa River, a major tributary of the Kaw, and build Clinton Lake. In addition to flood control, Clinton Lake would also supply the city of Lawrence with water and provide a source of recreation for locals and tourists alike. Located southwest of Lawrence, Clinton Lake ushered in an era of excitement and uncertainty for the people of Douglas County. Despite protests from many Wakarusa River Valley citizens, the Corps of Engineers began buying land as early as 1968, and construction of the dam started in 1972.
Swift action on behalf of the Corps of Engineers prompted local residents of the Wakarusa region to form the Clinton Lake Landowner’s Association, which advocated for the landownership rights of Wakarusa River Valley citizens. According to Martha Parker, a lifetime resident of Clinton and an active community member, “they did nothing but lie to you. We used to have a saying, ‘How can you tell a Corps man is lying? When his lips start moving.'” An auxiliary group, the Clinton Lake Historical Society (or CLHS) was formed alongside the Landowner’s Association with the goal of gathering and preserving the region’s history, which many feared would be lost forever beneath the lake. Many local community members held feelings of great anxiety about the proposed construction of Clinton Lake. This anxiety was not only rooted in an intense fear of the unknown, which often accompanies forced displacement, but the idea that the disappearance of regional history meant the erasure of one’s personal identity. “People just had no idea what was about to happen to them,” Parker explained. “Tons of people were selling all their belongings, their land, everything. I kept telling folks, don’t sell. Nobody listened.” With the support of the Landowner’s Association and the CLHS, Parker went on to establish the Clinton Lake Museum, known today as the Wakarusa River Valley Heritage Museum.
However, it is important to remember that Clinton Lake displaced more than just rural residents of the Wakarusa River Valley. The process of artificial lake building results in the forced displacement and subsequent migration of different groups of peoples at different moments in time. Yet this process cannot be viewed from a static perspective. Dispossession is not merely an event; it is a process that continues long after initial physical removal. Beginning in the 1800s, Native American nations located within the Wakarusa River Valley were removed from their federally promised lands in order to make room for white settlers. This included the Kaw Nation (whose ancestral homelands included the river valley) along with tribes relocated from the East (namely the Shawnee and Delaware). Therefore, Clinton Lake serves as a force of continuous dispossession. Flooding the land removes any future opportunity for communities, both Native and non-Native, to return to their homes and restore their sense of historical, cultural, and spiritual connection to that place.
This exhibit is free and open to the public in the North Gallery through February 28th.
Claire Cox Public Services Student Assistant KU Graduate Student in History
Check the blog each Friday for a new “That’s Distinctive!” post. I created the series because I genuinely believe there is something in our collections for everyone, whether you’re writing a paper or just want to have a look. “That’s Distinctive!” will provide a more lighthearted glimpse into the diverse and unique materials at Spencer – including items that many people may not realize the library holds. If you have suggested topics for a future item feature or questions about the collections, feel free to leave a comment at the bottom of this page.
This week on That’s Distinctive! I am sharing a glimpse into the lives of early pioneer homesteaders in Kansas. Coming from the R.H. Gandivan and R. Hugobook collection are photos (1883-1884) of early pioneers in front of their homes in Kansas. The collection consists of 24 photos from around the state. According to the finding aid, “the photographs depict pioneer families and their homesteads in the following Kansas counties: Clay, Jewell, McPherson, Mitchell, Ottawa, and Saline. Subjects include early pioneer houses and farmsteads, family groups, landscapes, and individual portraits.”
An entry in the Kansas Historical Society’s Kansapedia notes that “after the Civil War and before 1890 the population of Kansas increased by the greatest amount in its history. More than one million people streamed into Kansas seeking a new life on the frontier…Free and cheap land provided by the Homestead Act and the railroads attracted many settlers.” The Homestead Act was passed in 1862. Under its provisions, “settlers could claim 160 acres of public land. They paid a small filing fee and then had two options for getting title to the land…The Homestead Act led to the distribution of 80 million acres of public land by 1900.”
Houses in the late nineteenth century came in many shapes and sizes. The Old House Archives provide an idea of just how vast the design range was (though many have been updated as time goes on). Architectural Observer provides a brief glimpse into an empty late nineteenth century farmhouse.
If you would like a glimpse into the life of a Kansan in the late 1800s, check out our earlier post featuring a Kansas farmer’s diary from 1896 or this post about letters and diaries of Kansas women in the 1860s. The library also houses the diary of Maude Egbert (a Kansas farm wife during the 1940s) and many others from throughout history.
Any red-blooded Kansan holds these truths to be self-evident: the state flower is the sunflower, the state bird is the meadowlark, the state tree is the cottonwood, and Kansas Day is January 29. We celebrate this day as the anniversary of the entrance of the state to the Union in 1861. This year (2024) the state turns 163 years old (though she doesn’t look a day over 130). But as our comrades across the state and beyond observe Kansas Day, some may wonder how to properly celebrate.
Unsure of how to appropriately commemorate the anniversary of statehood, we can look to the Patriotic Manual published by the state in 1954. Under the section on Kansas Day, it is said that Kansas Day was born in Paola in 1877, when schoolchildren became so awakened to patriotism that they searched encyclopedias and called upon their parents and community to furnish local history and interesting facts about Kansas. When Kansas Day came, the school blackboard was covered with careful drawings of the state seal and maps, along with songs and poems, with the state motto “Ad astra per aspera” written in crimson and blue chalk.
Along with the fabled history of Kansas Day, the Patriotic Manual contains state laws describing the Great Seal of Kansas and the Capitol building in Topeka as well as a selection of songs and poems that embody the fine and glorious spirit of the state. These poems are reprinted below.
This patriotic manual from 1954 and an updated edition from 1973 are housed at Spencer Research Library. For digital access, the guide has been digitized by the Kansas State Library.
Check the blog each Friday for a new “That’s Distinctive!” post. I created the series because I genuinely believe there is something in our collections for everyone, whether you’re writing a paper or just want to have a look. “That’s Distinctive!” will provide a more lighthearted glimpse into the diverse and unique materials at Spencer – including items that many people may not realize the library holds. If you have suggested topics for a future item feature or questions about the collections, feel free to leave a comment at the bottom of this page.
This week on That’s Distinctive! I am showing something that may not be so relatable today. Below is an image of the first page of a pamphlet titled The Anti-Horse Thief Association: What It Is; What It Is Not. The pamphlet states that the association was founded in Clark County, Missouri, in 1854. According to the finding aid, it “was a grass-roots organization of U.S. citizens that emerged…as a vigilance body for prevention of theft, especially horse stealing.” The “effectiveness of such an organization quickly became apparent,” noted a 1912 history of Kansas, so “the order spread to other states, and in time covered a large expanse of territory. After the [Civil War] was over, when the conditions that called the association into existence no longer existed, its scope was widened to include all kinds of thefts and a national organization was incorporated under the laws of Kansas.” Law-abiding citizens over 21 years old could apply for membership to the AHTA. In 1926, the organization changed its name to the Anti-Thief Association in response to automation replacing horses.
The Anti-Horse Thief Association collection found at Spencer Research Library houses a couple of minute books, the pamphlet shown, a newspaper clipping, and a blank property description form (also imaged below).
Check the blog each Friday for a new “That’s Distinctive!” post. I created the series because I genuinely believe there is something in our collections for everyone, whether you’re writing a paper or just want to have a look. “That’s Distinctive!” will provide a more lighthearted glimpse into the diverse and unique materials at Spencer – including items that many people may not realize the library holds. If you have suggested topics for a future item feature or questions about the collections, feel free to leave a comment at the bottom of this page.
This week on That’s Distinctive! I am sharing a collection of Lawrence Bank banknotes. According to the finding aid, “the collection contains four Lawrence Bank notes of three and five dollar denominations. These notes are imprinted with ‘The Lawrence Bank, Lawrence, Kansas’ but were probably issued by the Lawrence National Bank, which was established in the 1860s.”
Incorporated by the territorial legislature in 1858 and located on the east side of Massachusetts street in downtown Lawrence, the Lawrence Bank opened for business in 1860. According to an article in the Lawrence Business Magazine, “the Lawrence Bank issued currency in various denominations, but only bills for $1, $2, $3 and $5 are known to survive.” The existence of the Lawrence Bank was short-lived, as “Quantrill’s raiders robbed and burned the bank. It never reopened after the raid but continued to redeem currency presented for payment until it closed for good in January 1864.”
As seen in the images, the banknotes came into the library’s possession as fragments. They were pieced together and preserved by the Libraries’ conservation department. It’s not often that fragmented items are adhered to a secondary layer, but at times it is deemed necessary by our conservators and curators.