by Julia Mathias Manglitz, AIA, NCARB
In preservation circles there’s been a lot of talk about underrepresented history and how we fix that. We’ve been looking for systemic reasons, ingrained bias, and questioning how and where to start to tell the whole story of our past. Ernie Watts is never that far from my mind. Walking in my door or looking at the barn I think of him. The first time I went looking for information about Ernie Watts I didn’t have much luck. But recent events had me thinking about Ernie’s untold story and wondering if the tides had turned with the ongoing wave of digitizing historic records. They had.
Falling Forward is how I feel most of the time when I am engaged in work of any sort. It is always a crazy, mixed up, sometimes desperate, mad rush to the end of a goal.
In youth in my home area I used to enjoy to go to the local sand and gravel pit, then up top to jump over the edge and run down the hill as the sand and gravel drifted below me (not recommended unless you are a professional). Or, in town, to pick a steep hill and run down the sidewalk. It felt like flying. One needs to keep on the run as once there is any hesitation then there is the risk of a wipe out, possibility to land on the face, or break an arm or leg. Skid marks.
This is how I see doing business. Always at the risk of a crash and burn. One can work very hard to build up a talent to be able to do a particular thing, like to hit a stone with a hammer and to miss the hand, then suddenly slam the hammer down on the thumb and rip out the nail. Trust me, it hurts.
Standing back is the space of ‘those not doing very much of anything’ times and an opportunity to think through, “Maybe that running was not such a good idea after all.” Or, then again, “Maybe I should be more cautious when I put my hand in front of the hammer swing.”
Ken Follett, editor