At first blush, the Ernst J. Dornfeld Papers appear to be the output of a career entomologist. The stacks of maps charting butterfly movement, the encapsulated wings, and the thousands of butterfly photographs all point to the work of a rank-and-file lepidopterist.

Encapsulated butterfly wings

But something doesn’t add up. Dornfeld’s Ph.D., minted at the University of Wisconsin, reads “Zoology” and his curriculum vitae is littered with references to cytochemistry and histology. Upon digging into the Dornfeld Papers, one will unearth lecture notes on cytology and histology, images of cellular mitosis, and a thick bundle of reprints with titles like “Structural and functional reconstitution of ultra-centrifuged rat adrenal cells in autoplastic grafts.” Dornfeld, as it turns out, led a double life.

Ernst’s fascination with butterflies developed during childhood and carried into his early scientific career. However, after taking a position at Oregon State University in 1938, he immersed himself in his teaching and cell biology work. He became interested in embryology and cytochemistry, began publishing his work on reproductive cells, and threw himself into his teaching duties. Consequently, his interest in lepidopterology faded into the background.

In the late 1950s, Dornfeld returned to his lapsed hobby with renewed vigor. He crisscrossed Oregon on scouting trips with his son, developed contacts with other lepidopterists, and amassed an astounding collection of specimens from the Pacific Northwest. He also redirected some of his teaching and writing efforts to butterfly work, publishing papers and giving talks on local butterfly biology and ecology. Moonlighting as a lepidopterist afforded Dornfeld the opportunity to work directly with other enthusiasts. His correspondence with colleagues includes discussions of new species, plans for collecting trips, and arrangements for specimen trading, all of it written in the intense tones of obsession.

Following his retirement from OSU in 1976, Dornfeld began developing a comprehensive guide to Oregon lepidoptera. In 1980, he completed Butterflies of Oregon, the definitive work on the subject. He also put in long volunteer hours cataloging the OSU Systematic Entomology Laboratory’s specimen collection—shaping it into a valuable teaching tool. To this end, he even contributed his own collection, the result of hundreds of hours in the field.
The Dornfeld Papers have been placed in the Special Collections & Archives Research Center for all the usual reasons. The collection is a rich resource for entomologists, ecologists, and historians of science. It’s also a part of OSU’s history—something we’re dedicated to preserving. But it takes only a few minutes with this collection to realize it’s more than the sum total of its research value. The Ernst J. Dornfeld Papers are a tribute to a labor of love.

The Ernst J. Dornfeld Papers and other related questions are available for access 8:30AM-5:00PM Monday through Friday at the Special Collection & Archives Research Center. For questions about the Dornfeld Papers or other holdings, please contact us at scarc@oregonstate.edu.

The Special Collections and Archives Research Center recently acquired an edition of Sir Hugh Plat’s The Jewel House of Art and Nature, published in London in 1653.

This collection of “diverse new and conceited Experiments” compiles recipes, household hints, and practical directions on an impressive variety of useful topics, including: “how to write a letter secretly,” “how to walk safely upon a high scaffold with danger of falling,” “to dry gun-powder without danger of fire,” “to help a Chimnie that is on fire presently,” “to prevent drunkenesse,” and “to help Venison that is tainted.” Mixed in among these trinkets are short treatises on “the Art of Memory,” “the Art of Molding and Casting,” a philosophical treatise on soil and marl, and even alchemical experiments. Intended to appeal to an audience as diverse as its contents, the book contains advices useful to travelers, farmers, housewives, soldiers, cooks, merchants, apothecaries, builders, distillers, and brewers, or indeed anyone who had “either wit, or will, to apply them.”

Plat frequently credits the source of his knowledge on these topics. Usually personal acquaintances, these range from seamen who shared various pieces of useful knowledge learned overseas, to clerics and barbers, to laborers and tradesmen.

Plat’s eclectic compilation provides a fascinating glimpse of the daily needs, desires, and concerns of people living and working in the mid-seventeenth century. It has an important place in the history of science, as it reflects what Deborah Harkness has called “vernacular science”—developments in engineering, chemistry, nutrition, medicine, botany, agricultural science, and physics as achieved by the common people as they  experimented and progressed within these areas. The Jewel House of Art and Nature joins other examples of this democratic genre in our rare book collections dating from the 16^th to the 20^th centuries.

What do these things have in common?

OSU is known as “the birthplace of the modern maraschino cherry industry” and Ernest H. Wiegand was the man with the plan. Before learning more about Wiegand’s work, let’s take a step back and dispel some myths about this tasty candy treat.

First off, it wasn’t actually invented here… The garnish originated in Europe and demand was fueled by Americans who had developed a taste for them in cocktails.

By the early 1900s, maraschinos were all the rage in the United States, largely bobbing around in cocktails like the Manhattan. A New York Times story from Jan. 2, 1910, captured the nation’s maraschino-cherry mania: “A young woman engaged a room at a fashionable hotel and, after ordering a Manhattan cocktail, immediately sent for another. Soon she was ordering them by the dozen. The management interfered and someone was sent to expostulate with her; also to find out how she had been able to consume so many cocktails. She was found surrounded by the full glasses with the cherry gone.” (The fruit that made Oregon famous, Verzemnieks, 2007)

However, it is not a myth that production of this bright red favorite was actually perfected just down the street from where I sit typing.

Another myth is the link between Wiegand’s work and prohibition. While there is a maraschino liqueur made from the marasca cherry and Americans clearly loved to drink, Wiegand wasn’t driven by the limits of prohibition in his work; instead, he set out to develop a method of manufacturing maraschino cherries using a brine solution rather than alcohol.

When Wiegand began his research, sodium metabisulfite was being used to preserve maraschino cherries. Some accounts indicate that this preservation method was being used long before Prohibition. Some manufacturers used maraschino or imitation liqueurs to flavor the cherries, but newspaper stories from the early part of the century suggest that many manufacturers stopped using alcohol and artificial dyes before Prohibition (Wikipedia, “Maraschino cherry”).

In any case, even for those Americans who were not looking to add the candies to their cocktails, we do know that cherry consumption in the U.S. was way up; but most were manufactured on the East Coast or imported from the other side of the ocean.

Inara Verzemnieks says in a rollicking blog post from 2006 that everything changed “the day a tall, kindly man sporting a pencil-thin mustache arrived at Oregon State University, and that’s when everything changed.”

When he arrived in Corvallis in 1919 he set out to help cherry growers solve a spoilage problem — the Queen Anne variety, which thrive here, spoiled and became mush when preserved. So from 1925 to 1931, Wiegand looked at ways to develop a new preservation process.

His final solution, which included adding calcium salts to the brine that the cherries soaked in, was revolutionary and is still the standard used in maraschino production today (Oregon Encyclopedia, “Maraschino Cherries”).

So… why bring this up today when real cherry blossoms are beginning to pop all over Corvallis? A few weeks ago Collections Archivist Karl McCreary got a fabulous new addition to our SCARC collections — a Maraschino Cherry Kit, replete with instructions and ingredients for making one gallon of Maraschino Cherries! The kit will become part of RG252, the Extension Family & Community Health collection.

• Want to make your own? The kit contents are Calcium Chloride, Citric Acid, Sodium Meta Bisulfite, Maraschino Flavor, and (of course) Artificial Color. Yes, there are instructions!
• Want to see some pretty pictures? Check out the Flickr set!

This week I took a trip to look at some records, but not the kind I would normally look at…

But the kind I might actually listen to…

A “Record Album” record

The U of O Library had a “Discover Music Sale and Music Services Intro” on April 3-4. Since I live with an audiophile and avid LP collector, we were there bright and early to explore stacks of thousands of de-accessioned vintage 78 rpm records, hundreds of vinyl albums, scores, sheet music, and books.

“Library record sale”

The range of music was incredible, from foreign language sets to adventures in reading records, square dancing to Shakespeare, jazz gems to “background music.”

Although I’m not an avid LP collector, I am avid picture taker. So I spent some time photographing some of my own favorite record album covers, which you’ll find in a delightfully colorful set on Flickr, with gems such as those you see below.

Enjoy!