Records Preservation FAQ: Answers for Clerks and Records Managers

Most of the preservation questions that reach us come from people who inherited a vault rather than chose one: a newly elected town clerk, a deputy recorder who moved up when the boss retired, a historical society volunteer who said yes at the wrong meeting. The questions are sensible and they repeat, so we have gathered the common ones here. The answers come from years spent behind a public counter with patrons waiting, not from a laboratory. Where a question really belongs to a conservator, your attorney or your state archives, we say so.

Frequently asked questions

What does "permanent record" actually mean?

It means your retention schedule says the record is never destroyed. Every state issues or approves retention schedules for local government records, and each records series on them carries a period: three years, ten years, until superseded, or permanent. Land records, vital records, minutes of the governing body, ordinances, election results, court judgments, probate files and tax maps are permanent nearly everywhere, though the details vary by state and by office.

"Permanent" is a legal status, not a description of the paper. A deed book printed on cheap ledger stock in 1895 is exactly as permanent as one written on good rag paper in 1795. It just has a much harder road ahead. Once you accept that the record has to outlast you, your successor and everyone else in the building, preservation stops being a nice idea and becomes a question of when and how.

Who needs records restoration?

Anyone who keeps permanent records long enough. In practice that means towns, cities and counties first – recorders, clerks, clerks of court, probate offices, assessors – then state archives, historical and genealogical societies, schools and colleges with board minutes and student registers, churches and dioceses with sacramental registers, and companies with corporate archives full of charters, minute books and engineering drawings. The volume of paper differs; the problem doesn't. We go through the offices one at a time, with the warning signs for each, in our guide to who needs a preservation program.

Why restore originals when the information is already indexed?

Because the index is a finding aid and the original is the record. Title examiners, attorneys, surveyors and genealogists still go back to the page, and they find things no index captured: a marginal release noted in a different hand, a pencil sketch of a boundary, an erasure, a change of ink showing a later addition, a signature that settles a dispute about who actually signed.

Every budget season someone also compares the cost of restoring a shelf of deed books with the cost of a new truck. The comparison only runs one way. The truck can be bought again with a purchase order. The 1871 deed book can't be replaced at any price, and every title that chains back through it depends on it surviving.

Why not just microfilm the books and leave the originals alone?

Film is an excellent security copy and a poor substitute for the original. Reading faded nineteenth-century handwriting on a microfilm reader is slow, eye-straining work, and a lot of older film was shot from untreated books, so it shows gutter shadow, curled pages and lines lost into the binding. Readers and reader-printers cost money to buy and maintain, and parts get harder to find every time a model is discontinued.

Film also needs its own care. Properly processed silver-gelatin film on a polyester base, stored cool, dry and away from off-gassing cardboard, lasts a very long time. Film kept in a damp basement or a hot closet does not, and older acetate-base film can develop vinegar syndrome. Finally, filming does nothing for the book itself: it goes back on the shelf exactly as acidic and loose as it came off. Our guide to imaging and microfilm explains how film and digital copies fit into a plan that also cares for the originals.

Why not photocopy the worst volumes, or have them retyped?

A copy is always harder to read than the page it came from, and each generation is worse. The original still has to be kept, because a permanent record doesn't stop being permanent when you copy it, so you now store two sets. And the original keeps decaying in the meantime. Photocopying a bound volume face down on the glass also cracks the spine, which is how plenty of books ended up needing treatment in the first place.

Retyped or hand-transcribed volumes have a longer history than people expect. Plenty of vaults hold transcribed books made long ago when an original was falling apart, and anyone who has compared one with a surviving original knows the copyist's eye wandered. A transcription tells you what a clerk read, not what was recorded.

What harm did the old tape repairs do?

More than the people who applied them could have imagined. The household cellophane tape that spread through offices in the mid-twentieth century has a rubber-based adhesive that soaks into paper. Over the years it yellows, then turns orange-brown; the clear carrier dries out and drops off, leaving a stain and either a sticky film or a hard crust behind. Tape laid over writing can obscure it permanently. Tape on a tear holds the paper rigidly, so the sheet simply tears again beside it, and oozing adhesive glues facing pages together.

Older repairs cause their own trouble: animal glue, rubber cement, gummed brown paper tape, even thread stitched through a torn leaf. Don't peel any of it off yourself. Removal is skilled bench work, and even then the stains often don't come out completely. Our article on removing old pressure-sensitive tape shows what the job involves. The single most useful thing you can do is stop anyone from adding more.

What is deacidification, and does it make brittle paper strong again?

Deacidification neutralizes the acid already in the paper and leaves behind an alkaline reserve, usually a calcium or magnesium compound, that keeps absorbing acid as the paper ages and as pollutants drift in from the air. Conservators do it in water baths when the inks can take it, or with non-aqueous treatments in a solvent carrier when they can't.

What it does not do is restore strength the paper has already lost. A page that breaks when you fold the corner will still break after deacidification; it will just get worse much more slowly. Brittle leaves need mending or lining as well. Think of deacidification as stopping the clock rather than turning it back. The full sequence a volume goes through is laid out in our guide to conservation treatments for records, maps and volumes.

What is the difference between encapsulation and lamination?

Encapsulation places a sheet between two layers of clear polyester film and seals the film to itself around the edges, usually with an ultrasonic or heat welder. No adhesive touches the document. If anyone ever needs the original out, they trim one edge and slide it free. The sheet should be deacidified first so acid isn't sealed in with it.

Lamination fuses a film, historically cellulose acetate, to the paper itself with heat and pressure, often with a tissue layer. It was used widely in the middle of the twentieth century on vital records and deed books. The acetate yellows, turns brittle and can give off acid as it ages, and getting it off again means solvent baths and many hours of bench time. The rule is simple: encapsulate, never laminate. That includes the office laminating machine.

Our vault has laminated pages from decades ago. Should we have them undone?

Not automatically. Removing lamination is slow, expensive and carries some risk to the paper underneath. If the laminate is stable, the text is legible and the volume isn't heavily used, good storage may be the sensible answer for now. Have it assessed when you see yellowing that is starting to hide text, cracking, edges lifting, a vinegar smell, or pages sticking together. Those volumes move up the list.

What is a condition survey, and do we need one first?

A condition survey is a structured look at every volume or series you hold: binding, paper, inks, past repairs, any water or mold history, how heavily it's used, whether a usable film or digital copy exists, and the conditions where it's stored. The result is a ranked list with a recommended treatment for each item and a rough sense of scale.

Conservators in private practice, regional preservation centers and vendors all do surveys. A free survey from a company that sells treatment is still useful, but treat it as a proposal and compare it with at least one other. Yes, do one first. A survey turns "the books are in rough shape" into a plan a council or board can fund in phases.

How do we decide which volumes go first?

Weigh five things: how often a volume is handled, its condition, whether a usable copy exists, its legal and historical weight, and its exposure to risk such as a shelf under a pipe or against an outside wall. A score of one to three for each is plenty. Indexes usually come out on top because they are pulled more than anything else in the vault. A volume that is both falling apart and used every day goes ahead of an older, prettier book in worse shape that nobody has asked for in years. Earliest land records, vital records and the founding minutes of the town or county belong near the top on significance alone.

Can our own staff do repairs?

Some things, yes. Staff can keep shelves clean, keep volumes upright and supported (or flat if they're oversized), stop people pulling books out by the top of the spine, use book trucks instead of armloads, and replace rubber bands on broken volumes with cotton tying tape. They can swap sticky notes and paper clips for strips of acid-free paper and keep a log of temperature and humidity.

The rule I used for years: if a job involves adhesive, water, solvent or a blade, it goes to someone trained. That includes "archival" mending tape, which is a poor substitute for a proper tissue mend. Workshops run by state archives and regional preservation centers are a good way to build skills for the safe jobs.

Who pays for preservation?

Usually a patchwork. Some offices carry a line in the operating budget; others treat restoration as a capital project. Many states authorize a dedicated fee on recorded documents for records preservation or modernization. Read your statute closely, because some of those funds can be spent only on technology, not on bench work.

Grants help with planning and pilot projects. State archives and state historical records advisory boards run programs in many states, and federal funders such as the NHPRC and the National Endowment for the Humanities have supported preservation at smaller institutions; check current guidelines and eligibility before you plan around them. Historical societies and friends groups sometimes "adopt" individual volumes. Whatever the source, phase the work over several years so it survives a lean budget.

What should we ask a vendor before signing?

• Who does the bench work, what training they have, and whether they follow the American Institute for Conservation's Code of Ethics.
• Will we get a written treatment proposal for each volume, plus before-and-after photographs and a treatment report?
• Which materials will be used? Look for Japanese tissue, wheat starch paste and polyester film, and no lamination or pressure-sensitive tape.
• How are volumes transported, insured and secured, and who can show the chain of custody at every stage?
• How many volumes leave the office at once, and how long will they be gone?
• Do you count pages on return, and is imaging included, in what formats?

Ask for references from offices like yours. Check, too, whether you need statutory or court authority to send originals off-site. Be wary of anyone who proposes the same treatment for every book on the shelf.

If we scan everything, can we get rid of the originals?

For permanent records, almost never on your own say-so. Your state's records law and retention schedule decide, and many require state archives approval before originals are destroyed after reformatting, if they allow it at all. Even where it's legal, think hard. A digital file stays alive only with continuous care – multiple copies, regular checks that the files haven't changed, and migration to new storage and formats as the old ones age. A properly treated book needs a shelf and a stable room. Keep both, and let the scan take the wear.

How long will a restored volume last?

That depends far more on the vault than on the vendor. A deacidified, mended and rebound volume in a room with steady, moderate temperature and humidity, out of sunlight, away from pipes and handled with care, should serve generations of users. The same book returned to a hot attic or a basement with a weeping radiator will be back on a conservator's bench sooner than anyone wants to explain to the council. Spend some of the restoration money on the room.