A Mixed Methods Approach to Digital Heritage in Rosewood, Florida

The use of digital technologies for cultural heritage work is a rapidly expanding field of research and engagement (Kalay et al 2007). The array of digital techniques presents a bewildering array of possibilities for the heritage professional. The Virtual Rosewood Research Project (VRRP) presents one approach employing multiple technologies for public outreach allowing researchers to present, manage, and disseminate both tangible and intangible heritage. In this post, I discuss the use of archaeological visualization and digital storytelling for collaborative purposes in Rosewood, Florida.

The use of virtual world environments to represent archaeological contexts encompasses hundreds of projects around the world and plans for a peer-reviewed multimedia journal are in the works (Bawaya 2010). Early work in the 1990s focused on creating images and video representing prehistoric and monumental sites. In the last decade research has moved towards visualization, or inferring complete contexts from the incomplete data recovered during archaeological research (Barcelo 2002).

Digital storytelling has its roots in a series of workshops in Los Angeles during the early 1990s (Lambert 2009). These workshops proved so successful that a Center for Digital Storytelling (CDS) was created shortly thereafter and remains the national center for working with digital media to tell personal stories (Lambert 2009:1-10). The impulse to share personal lives continues to characterize digital storytelling.

The Development and Destruction of Rosewood

Rosewood was settled in the mid-nineteenth century by a diverse group of people, and experienced rapid economic growth following the Civil War. Rosewood’s population was majority African American by the early twentieth century. By 1910, Rosewood’s population was eclipsed by the neighboring community of Sumner following the construction of a large sawmill complex approximately one mile west of Rosewood.

On New Year’s Day 1923, a white woman in Sumner fabricated a black assailant to hide her extramarital affair with a white man. A white mob formed and headed for Rosewood, encountering the home of Sam Carter. They interrogated Carter by hanging him from a tree by the neck, and when it seemed the mob might release him, a man leveled his gun at Carter’s face and ended the day with Carter’s lynching.

Two days later, whites in Sumner heard (or fabricated) rumors that the black assailant was with Sylvester Carrier. Carrier’s distrust of whites was well-known and before the night was out, two whites lay dead on his doorstep after attempting to set fire to his family’s home. By the sixth of January three other blacks had been brutally murdered and the white mob, now numbering in the hundreds, began the systematic burning of every black-owned home and building in Rosewood. A train was brought through town during this time to pick up women and children, who were hiding in the nearby swamps following the gun battle at the Carrier home. The train took dozens of families to towns like Otter Creek, Archer, and Gainesville where descendants live to this day.

Image of Rosewood’s Destruction (Literary Digest – January 4, 1923)

My decision to investigate digital heritage was motivated by specific questions posed to me by descendants of Rosewood’s community. These began with deceptively simple questions such as “can you show me where my grandfather’s house was located?” These early engagements ranged towards more complex conversations centering on the exploration of new methods for “getting our story” to wider and younger audiences.

Workflow for Creating Virtual Rosewood

The first step in visualizing Rosewood involved reconstructing property boundaries by reviewing thousands of historic deeds in the local courthouse. There are no maps, directories, or other information about Rosewood’s spatial layout. Therefore, geographic information systems (GIS) were used to reconstruct the metes and bounds on hundreds of historic deeds dating between 1870 and 1930. Historic census, aerial photographs, oral histories, and preliminary archaeological investigations were added to the GIS. The resulting dataset  provides the spatial template for the virtual world environment.

Virtual Reconstruction of Carter Home & Blacksmith Shop

High cost and lack of training has, until recently, limited the use of 3D programs for archaeological visualization. Companies are creating educational licensing programs. For instance, Autodesk, the parent company for 3DS Max and AutoCAD, began offering free educational licenses in 2010 at their educational site. The structures were created using 3DS Max and are available as a virtual world environment via a web-based format developed with a game engine. Game engines are used to create video games, and are increasingly used by archaeologists to create interactive virtual world environments of archaeological contexts (Rua and Alvito 2011). Unity 3D was used to export the 3DS Max models to the web. The result is two-plus square miles of virtual land, which re-creates the spatial layout of Rosewood as it existed in 1922. Interpretive signs throughout the virtual world environment tell the story of Rosewood’s development and destruction.

Virtual Rosewood Museum in Second Life

In addition to the web-based virtual world environment, a Virtual Rosewood museum is available in the popular online world of Second Life. The basic design is that of a repurposed, historic building converted to a local history museum. Visitors explore the history of Rosewood through museum-like displays. The Virtual Rosewood Museum continues to attract students, educators, and the general public. In December 2011 I led a two-hour tour to the Virtual Pioneers, a group of educators who regularly meet in Second Life to explore the intersection of online worlds and social justice education.

Virtual Rosewood Museum in Second Life

Visitors to the Virtual Rosewood Museum in Second Life can also watch a 25 minute video exploring Rosewood’s history, which is also available at the VRRP website.

Digital Storytelling and Rosewood’s Heritage

Digital stories can be created with relatively little investment and freely delivered using the internet, making research immediately accessible to more people. The VRRP includes a 26 minute digital documentary (link) exploring the development and destruction of Rosewood, the lives of those who survived through oral histories, and an exploration of the various methods used to document the town.

A particularly touching moment in the documentary occurs when Robie Mortin describes meeting her father for the first time following the 1923 race riot. Mortin’s father recognized early on how the accusation of rape might turn into large scale violence. He sent Robie, who was seven at the time, to a nearby town with her older sister. After hearing about the destruction of Rosewood days later, and failing to meet their father, the two girls assumed the worst. They eventually made their way to Miami working as migrant laborers. Robie Mortin shares what happened one morning when she went to a newly constructed church.

There was a ditch that separated Riviera Beach from the black neighborhood. There was a bridge across it, and there was a Hearst Chapel AME Church there. They had built that church right on our side of the ditch. So, we, my sister and I, went to church, and would you believe our daddy was there, and we didn’t know where he was, hadn’t seen him in months. We didn’t even know he was still alive, and there he was in the front of that church.” – Robie Mortin (2009)

The author conducting oral history interview with Robie Mortin

The ability of digital storytelling to share touching moments like these with a wide audience is an important aspect of social justice education. Robie Mortin’s words, delivered in her soft, ninety-four year-old voice, touch the viewer in an unmistakable way. The emotional impact of her story demonstrates the trials, and in this one example, happy surprises which make a life scared by trauma bearable.

Discussion and Concluding Thoughts

The creation of a website for my research into Rosewood’s past – including a data warehouse with census records and oral history transcripts -  has led to many unexpected engagements. This includes journalists, interested members of the public, and members of Rosewood’s multifaceted descendant communities. While the newspaper articles bring increased traffic to the VRRP website, it is the other engagements which demonstrate the collaborative potentials of new media for heritage. For instance, one property owner in the area where Rosewood was located contacted me after watching the digital documentary. His property is home to the African American cemetery in operation during Rosewood’s occupation. While allowing descendants to visit their ancestors’ graves, he has kept the property closed to academics after previous researchers  misrepresented his involvement in their projects. At present, myself and Dr. James Davidson of the University of Florida are documenting the property and its value to various descendant communities.

Documenting Rosewood’s African American Cemetery

The creation of new media represents a pedagogical toolkit. The new forms of knowledge produced by the synthesis between historical research and new media accomplish a number of things. It highlights the experiences of descendants and other interested parties, provides tools for critically engaging with history and media, and offers researchers new techniques for crafting the way historical knowledge is accessed and interpreted by others. In many ways, new media offers a new set of tools, ones not found in the master’s house (Lourde 1984:110-113) and potentially very liberating. New media is a constellation of approaches and technologies not regulated by gatekeepers and tradition – although certainly in dialogue with them. Obvious and sizable obstacles to full participation include the manifestation of a digital divide as well as the (re)inscription of negative identity politics (Nakamura 2008) within virtual spaces. Only time will tell if this optimistic viewpoint will produce transformative fruit or if mass standardization will assert itself and crush individual creativity and expression. I have chosen to be optimistic, and hope that the Virtual Rosewood Research Site motivates others to do the same.

References Cited

  • Barcelo, Juan A.
    • 2002    Virtual Archaeology and Artificial Intelligence. In Virtual Archaeology, Franco Nicolucci, editor, pp. 21-28. ArchaeoPress, Oxford.
  • Baway, Michael
    • 2010    Virtual Archaeologists Recreate Parts of Ancient Worlds. Science 327(5962):140-1.
  • Kalay, Yehuda E., Thomas Kvan, and Janice Affleck
    • 2007    New Media and Cultural Heritage. Routledge, New York.
  • Lambert, Joe
    • 2009    Digital Storytelling: Capturing Lives, Creating Community. Digital Diner Press, Berkeley, CA.
  • Lourde, Audre
    • 1984    Sister Outsider: Essay and Speeches. Crossing Press, Freedom, CA.

AUV Camera Capabilities for Deep-Water Archaeology

Autonomous Underwater Vehicles (AUVs) are built for a variety of purposes and come in many shapes and sizes with near limitless combinations of sensors and payloads.  Some are built solely for oceanographic uses, collecting water column data salinity, dissolved oxygen content, etc., while commercial survey AUVs are designed to collect geophysical (e.g. side scan sonar or seismic, ect.) or hydrographic data. Camera systems are a relatively new addition to deep AUV systems. Currently, there are only a few companies, institutions, or government agencies that operate AUVs equipped with digital still cameras capable of survey to 1,000 meters or deeper.

/C-Surveyor-III/ AUV Being Launched (Courtesy of C & C Technologies, Inc.)

I am writing here primarily about C & C Technologies’ C-Surveyor AUVs, because I have the most access to these systems (a HUGIN 1,000, two 3,000, and a 4,500 meter systems).  Although the sensor payload of each of these AUVs may be slightly different, the basic payloads include an EM 2000 multibeam bathymetry system, Chip Edgtech subbottom profiler system, and duel frequency side scan sonar (120 kHz or 230 kHz dynamically focused and 410 kHz, or synthetic aperture). C & C’s has equipped three of these AUVs with digital still cameras (George 2009a).

In 2001, C & C began using the first commercial deep-water AUV in the Gulf of Mexico.  C & C surveyed the first of several shipwrecks with their AUV in January 2001 when the AUV passed the SS Robert E. Lee during a pipeline survey for BP and Shell. The SS Robert E. Lee was a passenger freighter sunk by the German submarine, U-166 during World War II. A continuation of the project led to the startling discovery of the U-166 in March of 2001. During the course of the survey two other historic shipwrecks, the Mica Wreck and the later designated Mardi Gras Wreck were imaged with sonar as well as four of SS Robert E. Lee’s lifeboats. Between January 2001 and January 2012, C & C collected over 246,000 line kilometers of deep-water AUV data, enough to circle the earth more than six times at the equator. These have included surveys of over 30 deep-water shipwrecks many of which are historically significant.

Photo Mosaic of /U-166/ Conning Tower and Deck Guns (Courtesy of C & C Technologies, Inc.)

Integration of digital still camera

In 2009, C & C began integrating digital cameras into their AUV fleet. The AUV photography system provides black and white still photographs of the seafloor while the vehicle travels at a speed of 3.7 knots. An image is taken approximately every 1.75 seconds which equates to one photo every 3.5 meters of travel at normal survey speeds (George 2009b). The length of the camera footprint is equal to 0.75 times the AUV with an aspect ratio of 4:3. The AUV is typically flown at 6 to 10 meters altitude during camera surveys with a typical tracklines spacing of 5 meter or less allowing for overlap of photos.

The first shipwreck imaged with the C & C AUV camera was the Ewing Banks Wreck in 2,000 feet of water. The near immediate success of the camera provided archaeologists with another tool to quickly assess and ground truth potential archaeological sites in deep-water. Soon other wrecks were imaged with the AUV camera including the Mardi Gras Wreck in 4,000 feet of water and the U-166, in 4,800 feet of water.

AUV Photo Mosaic of the Ewing Banks Wreck Draped Over Bathymetry (Courtesy of C & C Technologies, Inc.)

Advantages and Challenges

Three of advantages of the AUV camera system are a) the ability to take the collected images and efficiently mosaic the photos into larger geo-referenced images; b) the ability to combine those images with the other geophysical data to aid in interpretation and site analysis; and c) the ability to quickly ground truth targets detected with the geophysical sensors.

Several hundred photographs are collected during a typical camera survey and it is important to know what portion of the seafloor each photo represent. C & C developed a software application to sync the photos with the AUV navigation/positioning system and convert each photograph to a geo-referenced image. In addition, a post processing routine was developed to equalize the repetitive flash pattern produced on each photograph, adjust for spherical light spreading, linear attenuation, and flash scattering resulting from water column particulates. The result of this processing is nice evenly lighted geo-referenced images that can then be more easily mosaiced and imported into a GIS system.

Having the photo mosaic and geophysical data (e.g. side scan sonar, multibeam bathymetry, and subbottom profiler) collected simultaneously allows all the site data to be analyzed in conjunction. The photo mosaic can also be draped over the swath bathymetry to provide a three-dimensional photographic perspective of the site. Although individual photographs and ROV investigation may be required for detailed analyses of specific areas or features of a wreck site, being able to quickly see the bigger picture along with the geophysical data offers a larger perspective of a site for assessing site formation, artifact distribution, and other aspects of the site.

The AUV camera is also an excellent tool for ground truthing unidentified targets. Often potentially significant targets are detected with side scan sonar during an archaeological survey and a recommendation has to be made based solely on the geophysical data. Having the option to collect photos over select targets, helps remove most of the ambiguity in the interpretation.

Conclusion

AUV cameras are advantageous to both the survey industry and the advancement of deep-water marine archaeology.  Since the introduction of digital still camera systems into survey class AUVs, the technology has repeatedly proven its value, efficiency, and effectiveness.  Although the technology is still in its relative infancy, it has immediately demonstrated its benefit for deep water AUV surveys in ground truthing unidentified targets, inspecting previously known sites, and creating geo-referenced photo mosaics to analyze historic shipwreck sites.

What other potential archaeological uses or advantages are there for this type of technology?

References

  • George, A Robert
    • 2009a.  Sensor Upgrades for Deep-water Survey AUVs.  International Hydrographic and Seismic Search, (August): 32-33.
  • George, A Robert
    • 2009b.  Integrated High Resolution Geophysical and Photographic AUV System.  Oral presentation given at the IMCA Annual Seminar, Rio De Janeiro Copacabana, Brazil (November).

All images courtesy of C & C Technologies, Inc.

LiDAR: Pushing the bounds of a technology or using what we have effectively?

The literature surrounding the use of LiDAR, light detection and ranging, imagery can often be disjointed, vague, and impractical for its application in archaeological investigation.  Wanting to utilize the available data, I became frustrated with the lack of literature that described a basic methodological approach to using LiDAR.  The most common usage for LiDAR in archaeological contexts continues to be identification of sites and associated features.  Recent interest in LiDAR’s ability to aid in the monitoring of conditions on archaeological sites offers another opportunity to employ the available datasets (Challis et al. 2008).

LiDAR, light detection and ranging, is the constant transmittal of high-resolution laser light to the ground surface, with the time differential of each pulse recorded at the receiving station attached to a low-altitude aircraft (Fennell 2010:6-7).  The accuracy of the method varies dependent on location and how the data was gathered; essentially, a micro-topographic map of the bare surface of the site and surrounding lands can be produced for archaeological analysis.  LiDAR has been used in multiple case studies including both prehistoric and historic archaeological surveys with and without vegetation cover (Fennell 2010; Harmon et al. 2006; Petzold et al. 1999).

While the usage of LiDAR in archaeological contexts remains limited, the ways in which it is manipulated and more thoroughly realized continue to expand (Challis et al. 2008; Chase et al. 2011; Devereux et al. 2005; Devereux et al. 2008; Fennell 2010; Harmon et al. 2006; Rowlands and Sarris 2007).  The various techniques to extrapolate information include, among others, the application of hill-shading algorithms, the manipulation of illumination sources by direction and elevation, the alteration of contour intervals through arbitrary and relational settings, the creation of local relief models, the application of statistics in analysis to include nearest neighbor, quadrat, and chi-square, the variance of resolution between micro and macro glimpses of the landscape, and even the use of multiple color gradients (Challis et al. 2008; Chase et al. 2011; Devereux et al. 2005; Devereux et al. 2008; Fennell 2010; Harmon et al. 2006; Jaillet 2011; Rowlands and Sarris 2007).

Of course, where there is potential…there is also pitfall.  Some of the more common issues with LiDAR that deter it from a more widespread usage include the potential for data overload, inconsistency in its interpretive value, human error or unfamiliarity with LiDAR, present surface imagery’s inability to cope with temporal and/or cultural association, and resolution issues (Harmon et al. 2006; Jaillet 2011).  Another point worth noting is that while it is without doubt a useful tool in the archaeological toolbox, it continues to be a method that works best in conjunction with other archaeological methods to include other remote sensing techniques, historic documentation and field investigation (Fennell 2010; Harmon et al. 2006; Jaillet 2011; Kvamme et al. 2006).

At this point, we come to the crux of the matter: what are we doing with LiDAR?  In order to get at this question, we could go back to the algorithm.  The algorithm most commonly discussed in the literature of LiDAR deals with the language of computers and programming.  The meaning, in most instances, is in reference to the computer science behind its analysis and the GIS, geographic information systems, functions used to analyze it.  While a great deal has been learned and a great deal more will be learned using this standard definition, I would ask that we apply the most basic ideas behind mathematical induction and recursive relations to our methodological approach to LiDAR analysis.

One solution would be to apply a back-to-the-basics approach involving the basic recursive algorithm of Divide-and-Conquer.  Using the Divide and Conquer Algorithm, one would break the larger problem down into two more manageable questions.  What can we do with LiDAR, in addition to we have already done?  How do we go about doing it, in the most basic sense?  It is the second question that appears to be the one plaguing the archaeological community most, as we have excellent examples worldwide of what can be done with LiDAR and archaeologists are continuing to apply it in innovative ways.

We need to come to a consensus on the variables that we are trying to measure using the LiDAR dataset.  One way to go about this would be quantification of the variables using archaeological signatures that essentially typify features common to historic and prehistoric site types.

Essential to the idea of the Divide-and-Conquer algorithm is its parallelism, its ability to be used for multiple purposes, just as we know LiDAR can be.  The same set of variables can be combined in differing ways to represent the different archaeological signatures expected of different archaeological resources.  For example, a historic agricultural settlement might include linear features such as field lines, roadways, and waterways, as well as, polygon features such as structures and specific forms of vegetation.  A prehistoric quarry site might include polygon features such as borrow pits and distinctive topographic features advantageous to the process of quarrying for lithic resources.  The limits to the use of this technology are as of yet unmapped.

Essentially, what we need is a solution that is both mathematical and manual, a more efficient way to standardize LiDAR analysis.  One potential solution would be to compute a coding system to manage the variables and allow for the ability to analyze LiDAR datasets with reference to the individual and combined variables, which would, in turn, limit the number of possible outcomes to a manageable number that could be reviewed and manually analyzed by the archaeologist.

In closing, I ask the archaeological community to rethink the algorithm in LiDAR and continue to expand upon the ways in which we use this valuable tool.  Where to from here then… continue to push the bounds of this technology or begin to utilize what we have effectively?  Must we make this choice or can we begin to apply consistent methodological standards to our use of LiDAR, while pushing the bounds of possibility?

References Cited

  • Challis, Keith and Ziga Kokalj, Mark Kincey, Derek Moscrop, Andy J. Howard
    • 2008. “Airborne lidar and historic environment records.” In Antiquity. Vol. 82. 1055-1064.
  • Chase, Arlen F. and Diane Z. Chase, John F. Weishampel, Jason B. Drake, Ramesh L. Shrestha, K. Clint Slatton, Jaime J. Awe, William E. Carter
    • 2011. “Airborne LiDAR, archaeology and the ancient Maya landscape at Caracol, Belize.” In Journal of Archaeological Science. Vol. 38. 387-398.
  • Devereux, B.J. and G.S. Amable, P. Crow
    • 2008. “Visualisation of LiDAR terrain models for archaeological feature detection.”  In Antiquity. Vol. 82. 470-479.
  • Devereux, B.J. and G.S. Amable, P. Crow, A.D. Cliff
    • 2005. “The potential of airborne lidar for detection of archaeological features under woodland canopies.” In Antiquity. Vol. 79. 648-660.
  • Fennell, Christopher
    • 2010. “Archaeological Investigations and LiDAR Aerial Survey in Edgefield, South Carolina.” In African Diaspora Archaeology Network Newsletter.  December.
  • Harmon, James and Mark Leone, Stephen Prince, Marcia Snyder.
    • 2006. “LiDAR for Archaeological Landscape Analysis: A Case Study of Two Eighteenth-Century Maryland Plantation Sites.” In American Antiquity. Vol. 71(4).  649-670.
  • Hunter, William A.
    • 1960. Forts on the Pennsylvania Frontier (1753-1758).  Pennsylvania Historic and Museum Commission.
  • Jaillet, Angela S.
    • 2011. The People of Pandenarium: The Living Landscape of a Freed African American Settlement.”  Masters Thesis.  Indiana University of Pennsylvania.  Indiana, PA.
  • Kvamme, Kenneth L. and Jay K. Johnson, Bryan S. Haley.
    • 2006. Multiple Methods Surveys: Case Studies.  In Remote Sensing in Archaeology: An Explicitly North American Perspective.  Ed. by Jay K. Johnson.  251-268. University of Alabama Press.  Tuscaloosa, AL.
  • Rowlands, Aled and Apostolos Sarris
    • 2007. “Detection of exposed and subsurface archaeological remains using multi-sensor remote sensing.” In Journal of Archaeological Science. Vol. 34. 795-803.