For Richard Norton Smith, departing director
of the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum, just one
thing is certain in his professional life. After leaving Springfield at the end of
March, Smith will become a scholar in residence at George Mason
University, in a suburb of Washington, D.C. The part-time post pays
$30,000 a year, a tenth of what he’s been making in Illinois
and also a pittance in comparison with his previous salaries at
such institutions as the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Library in
Michigan and the Robert J. Dole Institute of Politics in Kansas. He
says that the academic post will allow him time to finish a
biography of Nelson Rockefeller. So far, that’s it. The man who has
spent the past 20 years heading up libraries and museums for
Republican presidents and one presidential wannabe has no other
guaranteed gig, although he says that he has irons in various
fires. One is serving as a consultant to the private foundation
that raises funds for the museum and library in downtown
Springfield. Susan Mogerman, CEO of the Abraham Lincoln
Presidential Library Foundation, says that a contract with Smith
hasn’t been signed. Smith also says that he plans to conduct
a review of the presidential-library system for the National
Archives, but nothing is official yet. A National Archives
spokeswoman says that a contract hasn’t been signed. This marks the first time in nearly 20 years
that Smith has left a job without having another one lined up. In a
batch of sometimes-spirited e-mails to Illinois Times, he says that
he’ll end up just fine. He bristles at the words
“sabbatical” and “job.”
“My previous jobs, and the
credibility/visibility they have gained for me over the years,
affords what may appear to be odd or simply a luxury — i.e.,
escaping the all-consuming demands of an
administrative/organizational/fundraising model which I have been
engaged in, more or less nonstop, for over 18 years, and do exactly
what I want to do: above all, write, teach, consult and speak,”
he writes. “I have several speaking engagements lined up and have
been told to expect more once I put down roots in D.C. The same holds
true with television and other work, some which is already under
discussion. What all this illustrates is not a sabbatical . . . but a
newfound freedom to pick and choose among professional opportunities,
all the while keeping in mind the overriding priority of finishing the
Rockefeller biography by the summer of 2007.” OK, let’s just say that he’s
following his bliss. Smith is leaving behind an institution that
has succeeded beyond everyone’s expectations, including his
own. The museum is on pace to draw 600,000 visitors in its first
year of operation, double what was forecast. He’s credited
with drawing such intellectuals as historian David McCullough to
Springfield for lectures. And he’s resurrected private
fundraising efforts at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library
Foundation, which was an organization in name only when Smith came to town in 2003. What lies ahead, however, could be as
challenging, if not more so, than getting the museum open. Known for its Disneyesque displays, the
institution is expensive to operate compared with other
presidential libraries and museums. The annual budget is about $9
million. By contrast, the annual budgets for other presidential
libraries and museums administered by the National Archives in
fiscal year 2004 ranged from $1.8 million (Herbert Hoover) to $4.8
million (Ronald Reagan). Unlike these institutions, the Lincoln
museum in Springfield gets no federal money for operating costs.
Despite sky-high attendance, gate receipts, which stood at slightly
more than $2.5 million in mid-December, aren’t nearly enough
to pay costs, so state and private funding must make up the
difference. The state isn’t likely to pony up for new bells
and whistles, so if the museum wants fresh attractions to keep
folks coming back, private donors will have to pay for them. The
museum foundation hasn’t raised sufficient cash to have an
acquisition fund, so it must rely on gifts from collectors of
Lincoln artifacts. The foundation is banking on the bicentennial
of Lincoln’s birth in 2009 to attract media attention and
donations. No one has ever accused Smith of lacking ambition
— in three years, he hopes to digitize every document that
ever crossed Lincoln’s desk so that the Great Emancipator’s
papers will be available to scholars worldwide by way of the Internet.
It’s an enormously expensive and time-consuming process that
requires the organization and indexing of tens of thousands of
documents. It’s also the sort of thing that would make Feb. 12,
2009, more than just a date and would presumably increase the
museum’s stature and national reputation, not to mention the
public appetite for all things Lincoln. Smith, however, won’t be here to ride
herd, and a successor has not been named. Although Smith says that
he’s already done a lot of behind-the-scenes planning and
expects to visit Springfield often as a consultant, he acknowledges
that the whole thing could go south. After all, promoters of other
historic anniversaries haven’t exactly captured the national
imagination. “It can become just another excuse for
wreath-laying, indifferent public oratory, self-congratulation and
another costume ball in the Old State Capitol,” he says.
“In other words, if the same level of imagination is applied
to the Lincoln bicentenary that, at its best, characterizes the exhibits and
programs of the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum,
then I believe Illinois can defy the recent and disappointing
tradition that includes the American bicentennial, the 200th
anniversary of the Constitution, the disastrous Columbus
quincentenary, and the uneven Lewis and Clark commemorations.”
Julie Cellini, who sits on the foundation
board, says a national search to find a replacement for Smith could
take as long as six months. Cellini, who is also a member of a
federal advisory committee on the Lincoln bicentennial, says
it’s too early to talk publicly about bicentennial plans, and
there will be plenty of time for a new director to put a mark on
the occasion. “It’s still three years
away,” she says.
This article appears in Feb 9-15, 2006.
