Our Vanishing Past producer Lynn Kosek Walker in the HD edit room at NJN Public Television.

Nearly one year ago, Our Vanishing Past premiered on NJN Public Television in New Jersey. Now we are very happy that the show is reaching preservation minded people across the country thanks to the efforts of American Public Television. This major distributer of television shows brings quality programs to stations within the public broadcasting system. The majority of the stations will start airing the documentary in May for National Preservation Month. In total more than 60 stations will air Our Vanishing Past. This will include very broad coverage, ranging from New York and Philadelphia to PBS stations in Los Angeles, Chicago, Denver, El Paso, Salt Lake City and Tallahassee. The documentary will also be shown in Alaska, Puerto Rico, Hawaii and the Virgin Islands. 

Since the day the show first aired, many more historic buildings and homes have been lost in the preservation battle. On my drive in to work I have watched this happen. I first noticed a farmhouse as it became vacant and boarded up after a family had lived in it for many years. A few weeks ago it was torn down along with the farm’s three grain silos. All that remains on the site are some daffodils and flowering trees surrounding where the home once stood. A little farther down the road a two story brick house was also torn down. Just a quarter mile from there, one of my favorite historic mansions has a bulldozer sitting out front. As I write these words I wonder if the centuries old home still stands.

Perhaps the only good side to the depressed economy that we now face is that many buildings are being saved by preservation through poverty. Teardowns aren’t as likely to happen when market forces aren’t in place to drive development. Of course, the downside is that more homes are becoming vacant and preservation groups are struggling even harder to find resources to preserve what remains.      

Edison Schoolhouse/Hungarian Church being moved to new location in town.

I have also witnessed success stories that have emerged since the documentary was first broadcast. A couple months ago, as I drove through the city of Camden, I was pleased to see workmen restoring the exterior of the New Jersey Safe Deposit and Trust Company building featured in Our Vanishing Past. Across town, the historic Church of Our Savior is being converted into a maritime museum. I produced a story on the museum and the new sculpture that stands out front for State Of The Arts. The historic Edison Schoolhouse/Hungarian Church, featured in our photo gallery, has seen some major improvements. Elizabeth Allen, past president of the Franklin Historical Society in Sussex County, New Jersey, has played a leading role in preserving the building. She sends me updates on the group’s progress. A few days ago she wrote:

“We had ground breaking, excavated the foundation area, hooking up the utilities, (sewer and water), built the foundation, and last week finally got the building moved over on the foundation.  There is one more beam which has to be removed from under the building, and then we can start the fun part, the actual restoration.  We are getting estimates for the copper roof tiles, some of which were damaged by trees during the move. This will be a costly item. We will need every avenue to look for funding to finish the project and to pay the mortgage.  But we will find a way.”

It is good to know that thousands of people like Elizabeth Allen are making the effort to “find a way” to save historic buildings that they care about. Most of these preservationists are volunteers. They work on the frontlines to ensure that buildings of great character and with interesting stories are preserved for future generations. Others join in the preservation battle as a way to bring greater meaning to their lives or to overcome a difficult personal loss. George Rowland, Ph.D. is the associate project director of the Camden Shipyard and Maritime Museum. He began volunteering at the museum as a way to help recover from the devastating loss of his wife after 60 years of marriage. George’s bereavement counselor, Carlyn Hard, suggested that he get back into life by using his skills to help turn the old church into a museum.

George said, “I felt so empty after my wife died. I wasn’t sure what to do. Transforming the church is one of the best things that ever happened to me and a great way to keep my juices flowing. It is educational and inspiring. This is a whole new learning experience. I enjoy working with people who share a common goal and are putting their energy into making things better in Camden. I’ll just keep on going until I can’t do it anymore.”

Do you have your own historic preservation story to tell? Send it to me at lwalker@njn.org or comment on this blog.

Robert Sands, four-time Emmy Award winning composer, at his studio in Central New Jersey. Robert scored the documentary, Our Vanishing Past, as well as many other NJN documentaries over the years.

Robert Sands is my favorite composer to work with on documentaries. For more than 25 years, he has created award-winning music for television as well as corporate productions, commercials and songs. Robert won two of his four Emmy awards for music he created for NJN documentaries. He has a state-of-the-art recording studio in his log cabin home. His wife, Vera, operates a graphic design business in an adjoining office to the studio. I always enjoy leaving the city to head for the country and a music session with Robert.

Before we meet, I make notes on different sections in the show where I think there should be music. I send Robert a copy of the program in advance to look at. Time code numbers are displayed over the video indicating the exact running time of the show at any given point. This gives us an onscreen reference, down to the second, so we can mark “cues,” which are the individual pieces of music in the show. In Our Vanishing Past there are more than thirty cues of music.

During our session, Robert and I watch the show together. We discuss the type of emotion that we want to convey in each section and the type of instruments that he should play. His electronic synthesizers and samplers can recreate the sounds of a wide variety of instruments, including a grand piano, trumpet, saxophone, drum, guitar and harp, among others. He also plays acoustic and electric guitar as well as numerous ethnic percussion instruments such as flutes, ocarinas and didgeridoos.

Robert and I will replay scenes from the show that I think need music. He will improvise a melody “live” to accompany each scene, so I can see how the pictures, words and music go together. He will try different instruments until we get a basic sound that we think works well. Sometimes this goes together quickly. Other times, we will have to struggle through certain areas to get it right. We repeat this process through the entire show until we have a basic idea for the documentary’s musical score. This usually takes a few hours to do.

Then I leave the show in Robert’s hands for the next few weeks so that he can compose the actual finished score for the program. Sometimes I will call him to suggest a new idea for the type of instrument that he might want to try for a certain scene. Other times he will call me and play a new melody over the phone to see if I like it.

One of the most exciting parts of television production is when I get to hear the original music edited onto the completed show. This music is unique. It has been created to enhance the dialogue and visuals of this production only. It is not stock music that you can hear anywhere else.

From our many years of working together I know that I can count on Robert to create a musical soundtrack that will make my documentaries stronger and more meaningful to viewers. Music is such an important element because it communicates emotion. It speaks to people on a personal level. Watch some of Our Vanishing Past on this website and imagine what the show would be like without original music. Then you will know why I think music is essential for making the best quality television program possible.

Many adults care about historic buildings, but it is uncommon to find a child who connects with them on a personal level. Devon Lucas was that exceptional child. I interviewed him for the documentary Our Vanishing Past. It was his second year at the Old Barracks Summer Camp and I asked him why he wanted to return.

“I really like the camp at the Old Barracks because it allows me to go back in time, sort of, and allows me to feel like I’m back in the 1700s,” he said. “It feels pretty cool, I mean, this is a piece of history right here. I get to see the walls that were built here. I get to see what they used to do, where they used to sleep, what the conditions were.”

Devon’s appreciation for history started at a young age. He was eleven at the time we met. I could see the excitement in his eyes when he talked about the Barracks and the connection that he felt for this special place. His parents, Kim and William Lucas, supported his enthusiasm for the past and made sure that he could learn as much about history as possible. Devon went on to play music of the Revolutionary period in the Fifes and Drum Corps at the Barracks.

When I interviewed his mother for Our Vanishing Past, she said, “Devon has always had a passion for history. We were looking for a camp that would provide history, not army renditions, we really wanted a historical profile that he could experience and this is a wonderful program.”

Devon and his family came to see the documentary’s premiere at NJN’s studios in Trenton this past May. His mother and I spoke on the phone a couple times beforehand and she told me how excited they were to be attending.

Only a few months later, I had another call from Kim. At first I thought that it was a pleasant surprise, but then I could hear in her voice that something was wrong. She told me that Devon had died. He lost his life in a tragic accident. He was thirteen.

Kim said that she wanted me to know how much it meant to Devon to be part of a historical documentary. She said the whole family liked the show because it covered so many places throughout the entire state. She mentioned the joy they shared while watching the program when it first aired on television. They had celebrated with a small party for family and friends.

I told her what a positive impression Devon had made on me when I did his interview. He seemed to have a maturity beyond his years and his enthusiasm for history was inspiring. I knew immediately when I heard him speak about the Barracks that he would be in the final program. And I treasured his words about the Barrack’s being “a piece of history right here” that can be experienced firsthand.

“I wanted you to know about Devon,” Kim said. “And I want to thank NJN for letting him be a part of the documentary. It really made him happy, because he loved history so much.”

Memorial contributions can be made in Devon’s memory to the Old Barracks Fifes & Drums Corps, Old Barracks Museum, 101 Barrack Street, Trenton, NJ 08608.

As I looked at the documentary I thought about the process of bringing all these stories together into a one-hour program. I thought about how we as producers start with a concept in our minds that grows into a shared vision that has the potential to reach millions of viewers.  (No wonder I try so hard to be clear and accurate in what I write.)

Seeing the documentary on television for the first time is a little like watching your child reach a milestone. You want to continue providing them with guidance, but realize that they don’t need your assistance. They can stand on their own two feet. When I finish a documentary I often have this similar realization. Now the show can stand on its own. It no longer needs my help. It has its own life, so to speak, and through the medium of television it will connect with people I will never know.

The Disappearing House

In my last blog entry I promised to tell you about the disappearing house in the title/open. The story actually starts in Wyckoff, New Jersey which is a hotbed for teardowns. I interviewed Michael Brienza the co-founder of the Friends of Wyckoff for the show. He gave me some photographs he had taken of the De Pew house before it was torn down. One of the empty rooms had wallpaper with little houses on it. I thought it was interesting and showed the photos to our graphic artist Steve Oleszek and said maybe there is something here that you can use in the open. When I told Steve the name of the house he looked a little surprised. “That’s the name of the town where I grew up,” he said. We both took it as a good sign.

Steve is very creative and he had the idea of taking one of the houses on the historic wallpaper and making it vanish to reveal the documentary’s title. He started by capturing the image on a computer animation program called After Effects. He slowly “painted” away parts of the house and painted in the background that would have existed. Steve decided to make this disappearance actually mimic the progression that an abandoned house goes through when it decays in real life. First the shutters and windows are gone. Then the roof and walls, finally there is nothing left but the trees that once surrounded the building.      

We liked the little house so much that we decided to use it as an icon for Our Vanishing Past. You will see it on the banner that appears when a person’s name is on screen in the documentary. It is also on the homepage and header for the website, the back cover of the DVD case and the tune-in cards for the show. For us it represents what we are losing from teardowns.

Do any of the places in Our Vanishing Past have a special meaning for you? Share your story by writing a comment below.

Did you watch the show at the premiere, on television or on line? Tell us what the experience was like. We want to know more.  

http://www.njn.net/television/webcast/livestreaming.html

The documentary will then be archived on the OVP Video Gallery for later viewing.

When you watch the show, pay attention to the “little house” image that vanishes during the opening title. Tomorrow I will tell you the story of how we found this illustration and its special significance.

Also I invite you to share your thoughts about the show on this blog.

So tonight, get your favorite movie time snack and settle down to watch the people and places that are making history in New Jersey.  

The day of the premiere was a whirlwind. I picked up my two children Victoria and Richard from their respective schools early, so that we could get ready for the premiere of Our Vanishing Past. My son kept asking “Do I have to wear a suit?” While my daughter wanted to know if she could wear heels, even though she was still recovering from a sprained ankle.

At 2:30 we headed into the studio to check out the set-up of the HD equipment. As we watched the documentary play on the big screen I was truly impressed with the quality of “high definition”. The colors and architectural details were so vivid. The buildings seemed to be more true to life. We gave the studio crew a “thumbs up” and went upstairs to my office.

RSVPs were still coming in. Calls confirming the start time, asking for directions and wishing me good luck continued until 3:30. We went to the music library to pick out some background music for the reception. Richard kept selecting hard rock CDs and big orchestral sounds. We finally found something a little mellower. He liked the fact that the library room is sound proof and that it also has production music for things like “nightmares.”

While Victoria and I put on some last minute make-up in the dressing room, Richard sat at my computer and started reading my speech for that evening. When I came back he told me that he had fixed a couple things that were misspelled and had changed HD to high definition because it sounds better. I checked to make sure that was all he had changed and thought the kid’s eleven years old and he’s already editing copy.

At 4:15 we headed downstairs and waited for our guests to arrive. Soon the studio began to fill up. My mother Roni DiSipio and husband Jonathan Walker joined us. I was also happy to see some of the people that were in the program arrive, including Pinelands historian Ted Gordon, architect Michael Calafati and education director Jeffrey Macechak. A photographer captured images of many of our guests, including program content advisors Barbara Haney Irvine, Dorothy Guzzo, Ron Emrich and Howard Green.     

A little after 5 pm, NJN’s executive director Elizabeth Christopherson and board member Tom Bracken welcomed everyone to the premiere. Then the lights were dimmed and the show began.

Audiences create a sense of excitement and energy. It was really interesting to watch the documentary with 200 people in the room. Hearing their reactions surprised me. They chuckled at images of the children’s pie eating contest. Made sounds of surprise during the story on teardowns and Wildwood. Their reactions made me realize that the show was working. They were connecting with it.

When the documentary finished there was a moment of silence and I wondered, “Did they like it?” And then the applause came, that said “Yes we do.”

I much prefer to be behind the scenes so public speaking is always a challenge for me. When it was my turn to make a speech, I silently said a quick prayer, and then headed for the lectern. Somehow I got through it and it wasn’t as bad as I thought. When I said something humorous and the audience laughed it made me feel connected with them. When I mentioned liking Lucy the Elephant I saw nods of agreement around the room. Then I said that I was sorry I had to cut Lucy from the show due to a lack of time. When I told them that Lucy’s story now lives on the NJN/Our Vanishing Past website I saw lots of smiles.

Afterwards at the reception I had the chance to hear many more great stories about historic places. People showed me photographs of their favorite buildings. Told me about preservation battles that they were fighting. And why they liked the show.

If you were there that night please post your thoughts on the premiere. And don’t forget to send us photos by e-mail of your favorite building for the Snap Shot Gallery.

Cheers!

On our guest list so far we have architects, planners, mayors, members of the New Jersey Historic Trust, Preservation New Jersey, the New Jersey Historic Preservation Office, historical societies, friends groups, volunteers, production team members and now (as Uncle Sam says) we want you. 

Come and join the historic preservation community for an evening of fascinating stories, wonderful people and delicious hors d’oeuvres.

As I would tell them about some of the places that were going to be in the documentary, nearly every person I spoke with would ask me a common question. “Is (fill-in-the-blank) going to be in the show?”

Sometimes I could answer, Yes! More times than not, the answer was no, sorry. (Let’s face it there are thousands of historic places that could be featured. Getting more than thirty into a one hour show was tough.) 

Then I would ask each person to tell me about their favorite place. I loved to hear their personal story about it. Why it was important. And if it was at risk. That is what gave me the idea to have a photo gallery on the OVP website where people could submit a photo and write a short description of their favorite place.

We really want to hear the stories and see the buildings that matter most to you. It can be a historic site on the national or state register of historic places. Maybe it is your own home that you restored.  A building that has a special memory for you. Or one that you are concerned about because it is at risk. It can even be a building that you have a photo of that is now gone forever.

We can only take photos and responses sent by e-mail. Please send them to me at lwalker@njn.org. We are accepting submissions for the month of May only, in honor of National Preservation Month. We will post the photos in the Snap Shot gallery for everyone to enjoy. Just a couple sentence description please. We are looking forward to hearing from you.

The first time I tried to save a house I was in elementary school. A friend told me and my brother that the old Donges Mansion was going to be torn down. We decided that it must be because Mrs. Donges couldn’t take care of the house by herself. (She was a nice little old lady.) We thought that if we helped clean it up that we could change people’s minds. (Ahh the innocence of youth.)

No one was home when we arrived to begin work. We decided to start in the carriage house behind the big Victorian mansion and spent the day sweeping and organizing things. Later that afternoon a man saw us cleaning and asked what we were doing. When we told him we were trying to fix the place up so that it wouldn’t be torn down, he was surprised. He said that wasn’t the reason the house was being torn down.

Of course, we didn’t believe him. He called Mrs. Donges, so that she could tell us for herself. She thanked us for trying to help, but said she couldn’t live there anymore and that she had sold the house to a real estate developer and he was going to tear it down to put up three new homes. She said that we could take something from the carriage house for all our hard work.

My brother Ron took a copy of the Philadelphia Bulletin newspaper dated 1899 that he found lying on a desk. On the bike ride home most of the paper disintegrated in the wind.  Only the part held in the palm of his hand survived. He still keeps this tattered piece of paper, because of the memories that it holds of a special place and a childhood adventure.

Ever since those early days I have had an interest in old homes. It intensified when my parents spent a summer looking at “fixer-uppers” with the intention of buying one, working on it and then selling it. It fascinated me to walk through each house. Imagine what it would be like to live there. They finally settled on a Victorian. We worked on it for a year. I cried the day it sold.

In college the first mini-documentary project I worked on featured the village of Smithville in Burlington County. I convinced the other members of my group that this would be a good topic. (Home of the dynamic Mr. Smith who built a woodworking machine factory, a mansion, conservatory, zoo, high wheeled bicycles and a bicycle railway. Smith later ran for Congress and was discovered to be a bigamist.) I still have the script and hope to transform that student project into a television show.

A year later I received a grant from the Burlington County Cultural and Heritage Commission to produce an independent documentary on the village of Whitesbog where the blueberry was first cultivated from the wild. The village was at risk of being torn down. I was one of a small group of people that helped to start the Whitesbog Preservation Trust, a non profit organization dedicated to preserving this historic site. Over the years, raising two small children took me away from my volunteer work there, but the group continues to this day.    

I tell these stories to give you a sense of why it means so much to me to have produced the documentary Our Vanishing Past. I feel like I have been fighting the preservation battle for a long time without even knowing it.

Working on this show has given me the chance to discover how at risk our historic buildings are in America. It has connected me with the historic preservation community, from the grass roots level to the National Trust for Historic Preservation. I have interviewed volunteers, architects, mayors, builders, executive directors, teachers and historians who all have interesting stories to tell. They care about the historic character of the places where they live and are working to preserve these buildings. They also identify what we have lost. And why that loss makes it even more important to save what remains.

Throughout the Month of May I will be writing a producer’s blog to take you behind the scenes of the making of this documentary. You will get to discover how the team of associate producers, editors, camera people, graphic artist, music composer and executive producer all contributed to the creation of this show. I hope that you will read along and share your thoughts with me.