In the past 18 months
I’ve lost four writing colleagues, prompting me to recall (again) an ongoing
discussion. Beyond the tangible items
left behind—books, manuscripts, documents, photos—there’s something more. Far more.
The writer’s emails.
Two longtime colleagues
died last summer: Robert F. Dorr in June and John Gresham in July. Bob, an Air Force and State Department
veteran, started as a writer for men’s magazines in the 1950s and eventually
published about 70 books. Many of his
online articles are still available.
John was Tom
Clancy’s main nonfiction coauthor. When
John departed the pattern last July at age 58, I was reminded of our occasional
conversations about disposition of one’s email accounts. He had an enormous acquaintance among
military professionals, techno-geeks, and researchers. He used to laugh it off, saying that a
buddy’s first obligation was to “scrub” the decedent’s emails before allowing
anyone else access.
So—what to
do?
Any of our
Usual Suspects has hundreds or even thousands of messages from sources that
could not be duplicated--rare/unique information and recollections that never
saw publication. Rather than allow an email account to languish and
eventually be cancelled, shouldn't The History Community be discussing how to
preserve such material by making it available? The mechanics can be
complex not only technically but legally.
Who owns a deceased person’s email files? Who can grant access. And how?
Presumably
the decedent’s heirs have legal ownership of the traffic, but I don’t know if
that’s been determined in court. So
could anyone with an account password gain legal access? I suspect not, but the world is afloat in
hackers, some of whom may just be curious about a writer’s files.
How long
will an email account remain on a server once it’s gone inactive? I do not know—probably it varies according to
the provider--but it’s a major concern.
So would it be necessary or advisable to generate keep-it-going messages
from that account?
Once a
person’s account is available, there’s probably no way to limit access to
specific messages or folders. That will
cause problems in many or most cases because of confidentiality and just plain
embarrassing content.
Consequently,
probably the safest prospect is for a designated individual or committee to
field requests from qualified researchers—however they may be defined. A relative or colleague could then search the
email files for the relevant data and provide it, perhaps for a fee. But obviously that requires someone with the
time, interest, and knowledge to do the spadework.
I have some
subject folders in my email accounts that I would like to transfer to thumb
drives or CDs. As yet I’ve not found a
way to do that, and probably should seek professional help.
Meanwhile, a handful of us have made
initial attempts to put emails in order.
Several years ago a colleague and I went through 300 or 400 messages
from an elderly friend (still living) who probably knows more about Subject XYZ
than anyone living. But the originals were scrambled and rambling so we
cut and pasted and relabeled them for easier reference. It took weeks but
we got it done. However, I don't think
many people will do that once—let alone repeatedly.
In academia, Serious Historians often
dismiss emails as legitimate source material because they’re not published and
do not appear in the public domain. Therefore,
footnotes and references citing emails may be considered more hearsay than
documentation. But I’ve often cited
emails for direct quotations in several books with hardly a burp from
colleagues or reviewers.
Obviously, this brief blog entry is
not going to settle the matter, but maybe it can generate some competent
commentary among more knowledgeable people.
If you have any observations or suggestions, feel free to comment.
A depressing topic, but a valid one. I lost an entire email chain with Erik Shilling when he passed on some years back.
ReplyDeleteWhat a loss--all the more reason to back up such irreplaceable material.
ReplyDelete