From forgotten film to a film archive: the curious history ofFrom Stump to Ship

Abstract

H ow did a forgotten 1930 logging film become a marker of regional identity for many Maine residents? How did its unexpected resurgence in the 1980s lead to the creation of Northeast Historic Film, a model regional archive? How did this obscure, amateur 16mm production land on the National Film Registry in 2002? To answer these questions it is necessary to retrace the history of the 28-minute amateur film From Stump to Ship. The movie, which was rediscovered and reconstructed in the early 1980s, depicts a vanished chapter in the history of the Maine woods. While just its recovery is culturally significant, the critical factor in From Stump to Ship's widespread popularity is that the.4ilm was made deliberately accessible to the people of Maine. While some archival films are carefully protected and seen only by archivists and scholars within a controlled environment, From Stump to Ship broke free from the archival setting and went on the road. Viewed by thousands of people from various socioeconomic backgrounds in cities and small towns across the state of Maine, the film helped to foster a collective memory of woods life. It also helped to publicly commemorate the work of early twentieth century woodsmen, enhance a sense of regional identity and increase interest in Maine history. The From Stump to Ship phenomenon was created by a combination of factors: serendipity, hard work, the understanding that amateur film has the power to connect people, places, and communities, and an artifact that provides contemporary viewers with a social history of early twentieth century woodmen. Discovering From Stump to Ship Alfred Ames, the president of the Machias Lumber Company in Washington County, Maine, purchased a 16mm moving picture camera to document the twilight of his family's business the long lumber industry. Ames took full advantage of the mass marketed, amateur-film technology that was invented in 1923 and popularised throughout the 1920s, for the film is full of the industrious activity of Ames' employees and the natural motion of the Machias River.1 In 1929-30, with the help of a friend, Dr. Howard Kane, who did some of the filming with his professional quality movie camera, Ames meticulously recorded the extraordinary labour of both woodsmen and horses. He documented his employees sawing down trees; horses hauling great loads of logs though the woods; river drivers agilely running over logs in rushing rivers; the powerful current of the Machias River forcing thousands of logs to tumble and roll; men expertly clearing log jams at the head of the river's falls; men in bateaus flying down river rapids; the proficiencies of mill employees cutting logs with a 48-foot band saw, and finally, the schooner Lucy Evelyn, loaded with more than two million laths, setting out to sea. In short, Ames' amateur film