07 Sep Commercial Construction Tours The Afro Charities Archives
Commercial Construction’s Upton Mansion project team had the pleasure of taking a private tour through the AFRO Newspaper archives. The 1,200 linear foot, mixed-media AFRO archive is a complete collection of the newspaper’s 130-year legacy. It is temporarily being held inside the Maryland State Archives until our work on the mansion’s renovation is complete.
The building from the outside looks like a cold, brutalist government building. To be fair, that is exactly what it is—it’s a government archive. That doesn’t change the cold exterior.
I had to buzz in, sign in, and leave my coffee on the table. I sighed a little, knowing it would be lukewarm or watered down by the time I got back to it. I’ll leave you guessing whether it was a hot or iced coffee.
Once I was led into the archives themselves, all there was to see were rows and rows of metal grates holding boxes and boxes of history. As I was being led back to our group, my guide told me that we were walking past every record in the state of Maryland, from founding to present. Birth certificates, marriage licenses, business documents—they’re all in that ever-expanding room.
When I eventually caught up with the rest of the Commercial Construction team, we had finally reached the beginning of the AFRO archives. Our tour guide was Savannah Wood, the director of AFRO Charities.
Family Legacy
(1) The passion in Savannah’s voice was palpable. This archive meant something to her. The historical value of the AFRO archive is impossible to measure, but let me ask you, the reader, a question: what makes you proud of your family?
(2) “This is actually my grandmother’s filing cabinet from when she founded the AFRO.”
This ordinary filing cabinet, filled with unassuming files, suddenly became so much more—a bulwark of the First Amendment during a violent culture war.
“This drawer even has hinges that pull its door face forward at an angle!”
Savannah pulled the drawer out, but the old springs didn’t return it. She sheepishly closed the cabinet, shrugged, and told us to continue the tour.
HUMOR THROUGH HARDSHIP
Just down the hall was a “well-loved” drafting table, complete with flaking, smoke-stained paper covers, and the name “Thomas Stockett Collection” written in the corner.
(3) “That was our on-staff cartoonist’s desk. He worked there until the day he died. Right here is his entire catalog.”
Savannah opened another ordinary filing cabinet filled with unassuming files and pulled out original cartoon drawings from decades before. His art style was reminiscent of classic Looney Tunes, with social criticism closer to Mark Twain. He was a clever guy. These cartoons are legitimately hilarious.
(4) The disheartening thing is they were all talking about the same issues we talk about today. That part I didn’t find funny. Decades later, and we still have many of the same problems.
(5) Have we learned nothing?
Still, I took solace in reinforcing my belief that humor is an American tradition.
PRESERVING HISTORY
Upstairs, we met Lead Archivist Megan McShea, who was busy cataloging metal photography printing plates that were commonly used up to the 1980s.
(6) Cameras have been able to produce high-resolution images for a very long time. The difficulty comes in mass reproduction of those images. It isn’t feasible to run every copy of every issue through a darkroom. But that didn’t stop the need for graphics in a newspaper. How else would you sell ad space?
It wasn’t the camera’s fault. The issue had to go to print!
(7) The original magnetic plates, however, were stunning. I turned the slate back and forth in my hand and, depending on the angle, different parts were highlighted almost like a 3D image.
(8) Old newspaper clippings that look flat to the reader were given new life when brushed with silver.
These details can get lost in translation—which makes sense for a newspaper. Seeing the originals, however, gives more weight to that flimsy newsprint.
“I’d like to find a way to display some of these magnetic plates in the mansion. A magnetic wall, maybe?” Savannah pondered.
“I’m sure we can figure something out,” said Project Manager Carl Thorpe.
As a 40-year construction veteran, Carl takes immense pride in leading the mission to house this history.
Savannah showed us some original photographs from front-page stories over the years.
“We have over 3,000,000 photographs in this collection,” she told us.
Some of the images are striking.
I saw several alphabetized boxes on the table behind us. They were going through the J’s, and one box was labeled:
“Jim Crow to Johns Hopkins.”
(9) “That’s quite the label.” “There was a lot to talk about.”
RECOVERING HISTORY
“Come! There is one more thing I would like to show you.”
Savannah led us back into the lobby and through some double doors to the garage.
She walked over to a tall, narrow object with a cloth draped over top. I was expecting some sort of painting. She pulled the cloth away and smiled.
(10) Underneath the cover were the original doors to the first AFRO Newspaper location. Paint was flaking off. The doorknob looked like it had been bent downward. The NAACP office was also housed in the same building, with their name faintly remaining right next to AFRO’s on the glass panels (that were holding on for dear life thanks to some tape).
“Someone contacted us recently and said they saw these doors up for auction. We had to have them.”
Carl told us that the Watchers stood at that door when he was younger.
“Who are the Watchers?” I asked.
“They would guard the doors to protect the people inside. Some people were not happy with the AFRO’s mission,” he humbly said.
“That’s one way of putting it…” I replied.
As much personal pride as Carl takes in building this project, he has immense respect for those who made it possible.
Freedom of the press and freedom of speech are two foundational ideas of American identity, and these doors embody that.
The doors were open for anyone who had a story to tell—and could justifiably close to anyone who tried to take those rights away.
Carl paused for a moment and looked at Savannah.
“So, where should we put it?”
by Dan Glennon
