An article in yesterday’s Philadelphia Inquirer brought back fond memories of reporting I did a few years ago. The story heralded Bert Levy, a 96-year-old docent at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which gave him a birthday party:
Levy has volunteered as a guide at the art museum since 1996, and his colleagues can’t get enough of him. “He’s revered,” said Ronn Shaffer, a fellow guide. He quotes Shakespeare, reads and writes Latin, knows French, recites poems and doesn’t hold back his sense of humor.
“The art museum saved my life,” Levy responded — explaining to the reporter that it was
where he had turned for diversion after his wife, whom he had known since his teens, died.
Not to one-up Mr. Levy, or the Inquirer, but I attempted to write an article about volunteers at the Metropolitan Museum a few years ago. My lede was about Laura Reiburn Kashins, who volunteered at the Met for 28 years, until August 2004, when she was 101. She, too, told me that working at the museum saved her life, when I interviewed her by phone at (almost) 103.
More interesting, neither Ms. Kashins nor Mr. Levy are unique. I interviewed many Met volunteers, young and old — they were so devoted to the museum that they seemed, at times, like a cult to me.
The Met had about 1,100 “vols” at the time, and they were critical to operations — not only leading tours but also manning the information desk, signing up new members, offering guidance to families wandering the Great Hall, leading school groups, conducting research for curators, working in the libraries, staffing the Patron’s Lounge and reception desks, taking art lessons to retirement homes, and serving as hosts at members’ previews.
They had to commit to at least one day a week of work, and those who lead tours had to go through a year of training and testing. Every single one I interviewed told me about feeling privileged to work at the Met; several, like Mr. Levy, had signed up after suffering a personal loss. One mother recovered from the death of a disabled daughter by pouring herself into museum work, commuting from Connecticut to do so.
Not everyone was wounded or retired, of course. Several wanted to learn about art and found volunteer work to be a disciplined way of doing that. Others wanted to spread the gospel of art or to “give back.” I know some people dropped out of the program, not finding what they sought. But the typical feeling about working at the Met was this: “I have to pinch myself a little,” one 40-something man told me. Every year, the Met had more people wanting to volunteer than it could use.
I was seduced by their stories, and wrote a long article — too long, the editor I had sold it to said. Not wanting to cut it, I instead withdrew the story — but never managed to sell it elsewhere. It’s out of date now, but the vols’ stories still resonate. Many museums — all? — depend heavily on them, maybe more than ever now, after staff cuts.
This is just a thank you.
Here’s a link to the Inquirer article.