Transmission from the Trail #4: The Archivist

“As a historian, what I really try to do in my day to day life is take a broader perspective than what’s presented with an idea or theme. To me, whatever where talking about, it’s tied to history.”

David Brownell is executive director of North Olympic History Center in Port Angeles where he oversees the management of their research library, their archival collection, and their education outreach program.

Born in Cincinnati, Brownell lived in South Carolina, Turkey, Florida, Texas, and Italy by the time he was in seventh grade. His father was an engineer for General Electric. Much of his work was in contracts to the Air Force working on F-16 engines. Later, he would work on power generation for industrial settings. This saw them moving every few years.

Brownell’s initial interest in history stemmed from his maternal grandfather, who was a Civil War history buff. He would bring Brownell to regional sites of historical import on the family’s regular summer visits to Cincinnati.

Sequim Gazette photo by Elijah Sussman / A Department of Natural Rescource road clearcut.

Sequim Gazette photo by Elijah Sussman / A Department of Natural Rescource road clearcut.

When Brownell was in the fifth grade, he and his family moved into a 450-year-old villa in Tuscany, Italy. This historical home had seen a para-trooper battle in World War II. Living in the countryside, at least a half mile from the nearest neighbor, his parents bought him a metal detector to stave off the boredom. Brownell would wander the property, sometimes discovering wartime bullet shells, metal plates from soldier’s boots, and shrapnel.

His mother, a school teacher and a bookworm, organized summer trips by train throughout Europe for Brownell and his sister. On these trips Brownell was exposed to a wealth of historically interesting sites and information. These early travels culminated in a trip to his mother’s ancestral family home in Ireland, which deepened his interest in the past.

Brownell attended Hanover College, a small school overlooking the Ohio River. His leanings towards majoring in history were confirmed when he took a student job as an archivist in the library. His first project was to archive a collection of objects, journals, and photographs donated to the library. The collection was from a family who had moved off of the gird in the 1950s.

Sequim Gazette photos by Elijah Sussman / David Brownell stands over a deep section of the Dungeness River at what remains of Clink Bridge on June 28.

Sequim Gazette photos by Elijah Sussman / David Brownell stands over a deep section of the Dungeness River at what remains of Clink Bridge on June 28.

“My first job in the archives was processing this absolutely fascinating collection,” says Brownell, describing his honeymoon phase with archival work. “These people were the definition of Americana. You get to dive head first into really personal history.”

Brownell loved working alone on the second floor of the library, as the river moved pass below.

He went on to get his Master’s in public history with a focus on archiving at Wright State University.

Archiving, and creating guides for research persists as a major part of his work today.

The center has objects dating back thousands of years, and generally maintains historical objects from as recent as 50 years ago. There are however exceptions, when important events like the pandemic, or the removal of the Elwha Dam happens, the center immediately gathers relevant history. A few years ago, they underwent the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) process and gave objects back to local tribes according to tribal interest.

Before moving to the Olympic Peninsula, Brownell was the research coordinator for the Seminole Tribe in Florida.

Sequim Gazette photo by Elijah Sussman / The Dungeness River running through the rocks that once supported Clink Bridge.

Sequim Gazette photo by Elijah Sussman / The Dungeness River running through the rocks that once supported Clink Bridge.

In 2015, he moved to Sequim to become the Tribal Historic Preservation Officer with the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe. He worked in this role for several years before beginning with the North Olympic History Center in 2021.

On the trail

I met Brownell on the morning of June 28 at emailed map coordinates — the trailhead of a Department of Natural Resources (DNR) road off Fish Hatchery Road.

He showed me an old Department of Interior map as I finished the last of my coffee and scone. We were to hike to Clink Bridge. Built in the 1880s and flooded out in the 1890s, the bridge was built by the Clink family who were settlers in the area.

The DNR road is wide and well graded, We walk past a clear cut and Brownell fills me in the historical context that would lead the Clink family to settle so high up the river. In 1850, to encourage settlement in Oregon, the Land Donation Act offered 320 acres of land to white males at least 18 years of age, 640 acres if married.

Sequim Gazette photo by Elijah Sussman / David Brownell points to the old bridge that once stretched across the Dungeness.

Sequim Gazette photo by Elijah Sussman / David Brownell points to the old bridge that once stretched across the Dungeness.

The land was also made available to half-White half-Indian males.

The requirement was for the settler to make improvements on the land for four years before they received the deed. This means that they could not use the land for its resources immediately.

In 1853 the Organic Act extended the Donation Land Act to Washington territories, and in the next decade, settlement boomed with 985 ‘bounties’ granted, totaling in 290,215 acres of land.

By the 1880s the Sequim Prairie was completely settled and people were beginning to move uphill into the Palo Alto area and the Upper Dungeness. This is when the Clink family settled and built the bridge.

After 15 minutes of mellow uphill grade, we start walking downward into the valley, here running into some slightly muddier trail. Brownell is enthused by the history of this place, and by the place itself. Another 25-30 minutes of walking and we arrive at the old bridge. Wood remnants of the old bridge jut out over cribbing, and 150 year old cable spools out under the wood. A simple bridge spanning what appears to be 20-25 feet, the bridge was set on two huge rocks that bottle neck the river. The water below is beautiful and deep.

We cannot see the bottom. Brownell explains that this bridge was flooded out a number of times before being abandoned. Parts of the Upper Dungeness are uniquely steep, which means that when the water flows at higher volume, it can become uniquely destructive. Brownell describes the river as a water saw, cutting through the mountains.

Sequim Gazette photo by Elijah Sussman / David Brownell rooting around where he suspects a geo cache might be hidden, no successes to dat. June 28.

Sequim Gazette photo by Elijah Sussman / David Brownell rooting around where he suspects a geo cache might be hidden, no successes to dat. June 28.

After judging the location as too loud to record a conversation, we walk north along a small trail to see if we can find a quieter place to talk. The trail pushes us further away from the river and after a few moments, Brownell suggests that we trail-blaze towards the river, I agree.

We emerge from the off-trail foliage and onto a quiet side-channel several hundred feet down river from the bridge, we sit on a log and pull out our snacks. Brownell offers some rainier cherries from his backyard. In addition to his history and profession as a historian, he is passionate about his small farm in Sequim, where he spends much of his extra time and energy.

When we finish our chat we decide to see how far up the river we can walk by jumping from stone to stone and skirting the side. My feet slip into the shallow water at one point, and wanting to see the bridge from below, I decide it’s time to get wet and submerge my calves into the cool water. Brownell joins in the fun.

Trudging the last 100 feet up the river, we cross the side channel and we stand on a little river island peering up at the Clink Bridge.

After snapping a few photos, we cross back and Brownell shows me where he suspects an a geocache might be hidden in some old trees, then we head back to our cars, conversations winding ever further out.

More history

Brownell often gives lectures and leads historical walks in the area. He will be offering a Sequim Prairie walk and talk through the North Olympic Land Trust on July 19; the event is currently full, but those interested can learn more and get on a waitlist at northolympiclandtrust.org/event/get-to-know-the-sequim-prairie.

The North Olympic History Center, at 931 W. Ninth St. in Port Angeles, is open to the public 8 a.m.-5 p.m., Monday through Thursday offering free research library access from 9 a.m.-2 p.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Find out more at northolympichistory.org, or call 360-452-2662.

The North Olympic History Center is also contributing to an upcoming exhibit on the Elwha Dam removal hosted by the Port Angeles Fine Arts Center (1203 E. Lauridsen Blvd.) through Sept. 8.