By Jessica Brody ~ Photos Courtesy Turks & Caicos National Museum, Ludington & McCollum Collection

Grace Bay Beach circa 1970

The beaches, diving, snorkeling and remote location of the Turks & Caicos Islands create the ideal image of a “get-away” spot for many visitors, but in the 1970s, the Islands were truly a place to get away from it all. The Turks & Caicos National Museum recently took in a slide collection that shows exactly how different the Islands were from the TCI we know today.

A whirlwind introduction

In Fall 2009, I made my first trip to the Turks & Caicos Islands. The Museum needed help re-organizing its library and archives, which were the last cleaning efforts after Hurricane Ike. As soon as we touched down at the Providenciales airport and I was met by Museum Director Neal Hitch, I learned the pace of work at the National Museum. With only a few short hours before we continued onto Grand Turk, our day of meetings and running errands immediately began.

Dr. Hitch and I stopped by Brenda Ludington’s new ceramic shop for an informal chat, which soon turned to museum business. Brenda had something to show us. She pulled out a photo album and directed our attention to a rare sight: Grace Bay before extensive development began. I had been sightseeing from the car all morning and instantly recognized the significance of the image. The picture before me showed soft grass and long empty beaches, a far cry from the bustling resorts of today. The image brought to mind a much quieter island: Providenciales of the 1970s.

Brenda returned to the Turks & Caicos two years ago, but has a long history with the Islands. She witnessed much of the development of Provo, including the “new” airport. The picture in her album that most captured my imagination was of a group gathered on a flatbed. Brenda explained that these gatherings were actually “board meetings” for Provident Limited, a land development company. Since vehicles were scarce, reviewing sites often meant board members piling into the back of one truck and discussing business from the field. As Brenda told the story, I began to get an “image” of the adventure that was life on these Islands.

We began brainstorming who else might be interested in donating images to the museum. James McCollum, long time resident of Provo, avid diver and pilot instantly came into the conversation. Jimmy’s visits to the TCI began in 1969 and continued for 40 years (and counting). In fact, the pictures he had taken during those years were recently used as part of a celebration of his 40th year on Provo and his 85th birthday. Brenda was one of the party planners and had recognized the historical value of the pictures. She had already suggested to Jimmy that the pictures become part of the museum’s permanent collections and after a short phone call to confirm, we were in the car again and on the way to “Jimmy’s.”

Brenda’s donation had consisted of two photo albums and a small box of select items. In my mind’s eye, I imagined Jimmy’s collection to be of a similar size. I was in for a surprise. When we walked into the house, the most notable feature was the mound of boxes piled high in the living room. Each box contained a carousel of 35mm slides. I did some quick math: at least 20 carousels lay at my feet — assuming 50 slides per box that would be about 1,000 slides.

I was not even close. The collection contained more than 2,000. As we gingerly bounced down the back roads of Provo with the new acquisitions, I took stock of my first day. I had met government officials and cultural icons, but the highlight was meeting Brenda and Jimmy. From the two Provo residents I received a whirlwind introduction to Providenciales and the TCI and the project of my career.

Preservation of images

Fishing in 1970s Providenciales

Due to the delicate nature of photography, original images have many natural enemies. As a medium, slides generally last for 50 years, but preventing deterioration of the image is a constant battle. In a normal household environment, they can begin to fade in 10 to 20 years. Particularly, exposure to light and water (even humidity) can deteriorate an image before its time. Simply resting an image against another object puts a photograph at risk. Think of old pictures that fade around the edges. The parts of the picture that touch the frame are absorbing the acid in the framing material, corroding the picture.

Slide collections have all the conservation concerns of a traditional photograph but with added complications. Unlike traditional photos, which are viewed with the naked eye, slides are viewed with an outside light source. Once a convenient method for showing off vacation photos at the neighborhood barbecue, the design now presents issues of long-term preservation. Each time the slide is viewed in a projector it is exposed to intense light. This causes the image to irreparably fade. Slides, unlike photographs, have no negatives from which to print another copy. Once the original image deteriorates, it is lost forever.

Early 1970s photo of The Third Turtle Inn in Turtle Cove

Slide images are produced when a positive image is captured on a transparent background. The dye used to create those images is the factor that determines the severity of the reaction to light. The McCollum collection includes two types of film: Ektachrome and Kodachrome, both manufactured by Kodak. Ektachrome slides are manufactured with dye known to resist fading under the intense light of a projector, but develop yellow stains in dark storage areas. In contrast, Kodachrome slides retain color vibrancy in storage, but fade rapidly when exposed to a projector’s light. To properly care for slides with such varying reactions, decisions must be made as to the best course of preservation.

Finally arriving at the museum, I surveyed the new collections. The McCollum slides document life on Provo from the late 1960s to the late 1980s. Within the collection are images of the progressive development of the Third Turtle, one of the first resorts on Provo, underwater diving excursions, and the construction of homes on the island. As one views the collection in chronological order, the whole process of construction unfolds; from the unloading of parts at the dock, to the parties held in the finished buildings.

The McCollum slides were stored in plastic carousels and cardboard boxes. Over the short term, these materials are adequate for storage, but in the archive world, the goal is for images to last for hundreds of years. As plastic and cardboard age, they breakdown at the molecular level. This causes caustic chemicals to slowly release, a process known as off-gassing. Over time, acidic microenvironments develop, leaving collections suffocating in their own home. Taking the slides out of their toxic containers and placing them in safe storage was the first priority.

To complete the preservation process, I worked closely with a museum staff member to remove, number, and transfer to archival quality slide sleeves each of the 2,142 slides. The slides will be stored permanently in the museum’s climate controlled storage room. Keeping collections at a constant temperature and humidity level is imperative in slowing the natural chemical process of deterioration.

Practicality prohibits archivists from describing or scanning every single item in an image collection. Having the collection accessible, however, is an important step in the preservation process. Preparing digital surrogates to import into the database and developing individual descriptions is incredibly labor intensive, but selecting representative images to place in the database provides a comprehensive overview of the images available.

Pictures, like those highlighted in this article, were chosen from the collections as a visual sample. Digital copies were created by scanning the images as high quality TIFF files. These TIFF files capture details at a higher resolution than the more common JPEG files, allowing archivists to save as much information in the images as possible. After the digital surrogates were entered into the database we attached detailed descriptions. Now the images can be searched by word or subject, providing access to the photographs and a window into the larger collection.

The journey of Brenda and Jimmy’s photos from Provo to long-term storage is a typical one for archival records. Transferring materials to acid-neutral containers and cataloging items guarantee their continued survival and accessibility. Without this meticulous process, the memories held in private collections stay . . . well, private. The completion of this project leaves the fragile originals stored in stable environments and, more importantly, the collections secure Provo’s years of growth as a living memory for future generations.

The museum would like acknowledge Brenda Ludington, who has become a great friend of the museum. Without her involvement, this acquisition project would not have been possible. The author extends a special thanks for her assistance in the writing of this article. Brenda Ludington is the proprietor of Paradise Arts in Providenciales, located at Neptune Plaza, Suite 105.