Orange you glad you know the story?

My home page is BBC News and today I noticed a news article of interest to collections types.

A museum in Staffordshire (UK) was recently presented with a dried out old orange.

Ew, you might say, nasty old fruit. But this orange is 116 years old and tells a poignant story about a mining disaster in 1891. A man had packed his lunch for the day - including this orange - and went to work. There was an explosion and he was fatally wounded, later dying in a hospital. His effects, including his lunch box containing this orange, were returned to the family, who kept them. The orange, over the course of time, dried out and blackened. He never did get to eat it for his lunch.

I'm sure people local to the area knew the story of the mine disaster, but to learn one of the smaller stories, a story that includes a remarkable piece of fruit such as this, makes history somehow more present.

*image borrowed from a google image search

Tuesday morning answers

The answer to Friday's Whatzit: Awl. Well, an awl from Alaska is what the accession list says (the information written down when we originally acquired the object).

Larissa B. made a good guess of a hair pin. I was thinking along those lines myself; I would have guessed something like a shawl pin.

An awl is an object used to punch holes in things, usually leather. Awls are usually made from a strong, sharp material such as bone or horn. I find it a bit unusual that this awl is so light and made of wood. There is some evidence that it could be an awl - the "pointy" part has a shiny patina on it, as if it were rubbed against something frequently.

The awl will continue to be a mystery to me, at least until someone encounters it and knows the history of this kind of object. But that's part of what makes this job fun. I have the chance to encounter new objects and learn about them. If I don't know what they are, I'll do some research to better understand what it is I'm taking care of.

The mystery presented by objects such as this awl is also why museum people insist on asking so many questions of individuals interested in donating things. Museums are in the business of stories; preserving stories, telling stories, keeping stories. This awl has lost its original story, it's become a mystery. If the awl came to us today, we would ask the owner where they got it, how they got it, what they know about it. We might discover it belonged to the owner's grandmother and was carved by the owner's grandfather to commemorate a friend. We might discover that the awl was used to make the boots which protected the family's feet against the cold. Suddenly the awl would become imbued with a history much greater and much more useful than the mystery that we currently have. But maybe, if we encounter the right person, we'll be able to find a story for the awl yet.