Though before my time—before I was even born—the modern preservation wave started in the 1960s, when President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966. This legislation created the National Register of Historic Places and established preservation programs, providing the funding, awareness, and momentum for other initiatives to take shape.
“The National Historic Preservation Act (NHPA) was signed into law on October 15, 1966. It establishes a national preservation program and a system of procedural protections, which encourage both the identification and protection of historic resources, including archeological resources, at the federal level and indirectly at the state and local level. NHPA represents the most extensive preservation legislation ever enacted in the U.S.” — National Historic Preservation Act of 1966
This momentum carried into the 1970s. For many preservationists and local historians, today’s efforts remain deeply rooted in America’s Bicentennial in 1976. The 1970s in general, and the Bicentennial in particular, saw the high-water mark of local preservation. Funding was available, volunteers were plentiful, and communities were invested in this renewed spirit of saving their history.
Many organizations crested during this era at a unique crossroads of patriotism and preservation. Yet, in an unfortunate paradox, it also created an over-abundance of museums that have become became difficult to sustain, especially in today’s smartphone-driven world. I’ve been to many local history museums. They’re all interesting and important—and also very much the same. Take away the caption from a photo or an artifact, and it could easily be from Anytown, U.S.A.
Nonetheless, many historical societies rode that wave to create local history museums. In fact, Fielder Museum, where I volunteer, opened in 1980, right at the tail end of that period. (Though our roots date back to the Cemetery Society in 1887, nearly a century passed before we had a physical museum.) There is usually great excitement when a new museum opens; however, it can fade over time.
Today, most historical societies and local history museums are struggling. Times have changed. Smartphones and the internet easily deliver what used to require a museum visit, leisure time is spent differently, people expect immersive experiences, and there is a generational disconnect when it comes to appreciating local history. Without visitors, museums become stagnant storage units. Without volunteers, critical work goes undone. And though most local history museums are on the same team, we compete for scarce resources.
Local history museums are at a crossroads, now more than ever. Whether it’s patriotism and preservation—or something more dire, like relevancy and relics—it has always been an uphill climb. Many small museums live the equivalent of paycheck to paycheck and it’s no longer sustainable.

At the crossroads of Relevancy and Relics
After fifty years, a changing of the guard is inevitable. The energetic, passionate individuals who started these societies are becoming scarce. My generation, and especially people like me, will inherit these museums and the artifacts, stories, and responsibilities within their walls. Faced with this crossroads, what are we going to do with it all? Local history still matters—and it always should—however, it will take a massive effort to keep it alive and relevant for our generation and the next.
Blog post by Jason S. Sullivan, 07-05-26