Archival Research Debrief (July 21–29, 2025)

I am comfortable clearing the names listed in the Victor Streib collection (Box 1, Folders 114–121) from my immediate workflow. These materials originate from Espy’s collection and already include notes addressing the reliability of several sources. In parallel, I am developing a new page based on Espy’s source material so that others can more easily trace and verify additional information. Although these entries are largely complete, the most pressing priorities of the dataset require my attention elsewhere.

While adding documentation to the Women’s Executions Database (WEB), I encountered a copy of an Espy notecard in the Streib papers and initially considered including it among the “firsts” in the preliminary findings. However, after reviewing both the card and the accompanying correspondence—particularly the claim that Mary Andrews (1834) was the only non-enslaved woman executed in Missouri—I decided against posting it without further verification. The card raises unresolved questions, including the use of aliases, that require reinvestigation through independent sources. Given these uncertainties, I determined it would be premature to include the entry.

In the course of this review, I made the ill-advised decision to begin re-coding every case, which delayed progress on source documentation. That said, one letter within the same folder recommended A Grave for Bobby, prompting me to locate a review of the book. The review itself was unexpectedly bleak, but because it appears to be the only monograph connected to Bonny Heady’s case, I have elected to include it as a source for her WEB entry.

I have added several new “firsts and lasts” to the preliminary findings, though I am largely holding off on further updates until I return, as the volume of newly uncovered material warrants careful review. I am also considering the creation of an “Albany page,” given how much was accomplished in a short period and the clear need for follow-up visits.

Although progress felt slower during this visit, it was, in many respects—especially regarding women’s executions—far more productive than anticipated. After completing my review of the Radelet files, I encountered extensive and revealing correspondence. These letters illuminated the scholarly networks surrounding Espy, the generosity with which researchers shared information, and the collaborative nature of capital punishment research during this period. While some materials were disorganized and occasionally frustrating to navigate, the overall productivity of the visit was substantial.

The Streib documents proved particularly valuable. Although Streib relied heavily on Espy’s note cards—often copying them directly—he preserved much of Espy’s outgoing correspondence with librarians, archivists, and other scholars. These materials, organized by name, were far easier to navigate and often contained additional correspondence with individuals I had not previously encountered, as well as references to works unfamiliar to me, including scholarship on Celia, the enslaved woman. Encountering court documents labeled Kentucky v. Celia, the Slave was especially striking and led me to identify new sources for future review.

This visit also prompted broader methodological reflection. Beyond recording warrants and sources—as Espy did so thoroughly—I am considering extending the dataset to include information on compensation: who was paid, in what amounts, and for what roles. Preliminary evidence suggests significant variation, particularly in cases involving enslaved defendants who killed their owners. I intend to investigate whether documenting these payments, including dollar amounts, would add analytical value and historical clarity.

One of the chief advantages of the Streib files is their organization. Because materials are arranged by name, it is easier to locate discrepancies and supplementary information without extensive cross-referencing. For example, Streib received letters noting inconsistencies in execution lists—sometimes identifying anywhere from one to fifteen additional women across states such as Kentucky and Mississippi. Espy often sent Streib summary lists, which were then annotated and recirculated, resulting in duplication but also greater continuity across records.

Tomorrow is my final day for this visit, though certainly not my last. My immediate goal is to complete the cases Espy marked in red and to finish scanning original index cards rather than secondary copies. Once completed, I plan to upload these images to the website. For those following the online spreadsheet, I regret not explaining the appearance of additional executions; the notes will remain as-is for now, as they are still necessary for internal verification. This account was dictated and transcribed, and I am thoroughly exhausted.

Reflections and Gratitude (July 21, 2025)

Above all, this experience deepened my respect for librarians and archivists. Melissa McMullin’s advance preparation saved me an extraordinary amount of labor—something I did not fully appreciate until spending six to seven hours standing, scanning, and following archival leads. I now understand why archival research cannot be rushed and why entire summers are devoted to this work.

Reading Espy’s correspondence was essential. Patterns in his organization, verification strategies, and scholarly relationships only became clear through sustained engagement with the letters themselves. His exchanges reveal both the intellectual rigor of his work and the emotional toll it exacted, particularly during conflicts with the Capital Punishment Research Group in Tuscaloosa.

Despite these challenges, Espy was supported by a remarkable network of scholars, including Michael Radelet and others associated with what would become the Death Penalty Information Center. Their correspondence reflects generosity, mutual respect, and a shared commitment to accuracy. Espy’s statistical thinking and data practices mirrored those of his academic peers, even as he remained acutely aware of his outsider status. Over time, however, he clearly recognized the value of his work.

The archive also underscored the collaborative nature of death penalty research. Information was shared freely, leads were exchanged, and even obscure sources—such as pulp magazines—proved instrumental. I have encountered similar materials elsewhere, reinforcing the importance of methodological openness.

Although Espy’s archive has often been described as eclectic, what I found was a deeply organized and comprehensive research system. His ledgers and SPSS printouts are irreplaceable, but I documented as much as possible using contemporary tools. Tomorrow’s work will focus on final verification of women’s executions, relying on note cards already scanned and cross-checking missing cases through correspondence.

This visit has also been personally clarifying. Health challenges and the scale of this project have led to moments of doubt, but Espy’s example—his persistence, trust in collaborators, and commitment to independent scholarship—has been instructive. I better understand why he chose to continue his work outside institutional constraints and how deeply personal this research was to him.

There is much I did not reach. I have a substantial list of untouched boxes and folders, along with correspondence documenting Espy’s relentless efforts to obtain records—sometimes thwarted by fires or lost archives. I also encountered personal materials I do not feel comfortable reproducing without family consent.

Ultimately, Espy emerges as one of the most ethical, meticulous, and generous researchers I have encountered. His work—and the community that supported it—offers a model of collaborative, humane scholarship that continues to guide this project.