Proper Collections Acquisitions mean EVerything

It all started when…

The Memphis Museum of Motorcycles is a relatively small and unknown museum located on the outskirts of Memphis, Tennessee.   The museum, commonly referred to as the Marvelous Memphis Motorcycle Museum, was born from a small group of motorcycle enthusiasts who wanted to preserve the heritage of motorcycles without the burden of marketing strategies that hampered the official Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.  In 1903, William S. Harley and Arthur Davidson set up shop in a small wooden shed and started a legacy of motorcycles that extends to this day. The founders of the Memphis Museum of Motorcycles recognized the immense legacy, but also realized that the Harley-Davidson story was not all that defined the history of motorcycles.  The Harley-Davidson Museum, as an official entity underneath the corporate umbrella, told the story of motorcycles with a very strong emphasis on their brand and obvious neglect to many of the stories that relate to two-wheels of other brands.

For the last twenty years, the Memphis Museum of Motorcycles has slowly grown through the tireless efforts of the founding board members and the few staff members that the organization could afford. The museum has gained recognition as a hidden gem across the country and is a frequent stop for travelers on two wheels and four.  Despite the under funding and overworking shared by nonprofit museums around the globe, the museum has amassed a significant collection of historic motorcycles, memorabilia, and memories through the generosity of a wide network of supporters.  Led by “Marvelous” Marvin Sims, the founder and only executive director the museum has ever had, the museum was financially stable, ethically sound, and entrenched in the local community.  The problems the museum faced were far from uncommon to other museums and were dealt with through whatever means were necessitated.  As a small museum, there were relatively few insurmountable crises. The only headlines the museum made were for a few unique events they hosted annually as fundraisers.  In November 2019, the headlines shifted to a much more troublesome image.  

As Sims and his staff congregated around the coffee pot and discussed plans for the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, the phone rang.  Teddy Applegate, the museum’s administrative assistant answered and replied that Mr. Sims was busy at the moment but would return the call.   Immediately, his face went blank. He hung up the phone and returned to the break room, telling Mr. Sims that Joe Edwards, one of the board members, had just called.  He said that Marvin needed to look at the local newspaper immediately.  Sims walked outside, picked up the paper, and nearly fell over as he read the headlines.  “Local Museum Accused of Stealing Rare Artifact” read the headlines of The Commercial Appeal, the biggest newspaper in Memphis, on November 15, 2019.  As the city woke, drank their coffee, and read the newspaper, the trust and respect that Sims and the museum had worked for two decades to build would be shattered.  As Sims read the article, his heart raced, and his mind wandered how they would ever overcome this situation.  It would entail legal fees and marketing campaigns that would bankrupt the museum, even if they did get to keep the artifact.

The story was related to one of the most important, and largest donations the museum had ever received.   Eight months prior, Mr. Edwin Davies had called Sims and changed the fate of the museum.  Davies was a prominent businessman, former State Senator, motorcycle enthusiast, and close personal friend of museum board member Joe Edwards.  For twenty-five years, he had an old motorcycle under a tarp in his middle-Tennessee farm.  The 1961 Harley-Davidson Duo Glide was in pristine condition and a beautiful icon of the era.  On top of that, there was a story that accompanied the motorcycle suggesting that it was once owned by a rather famous Memphis resident, Elvis Presley.  While the claims were immediately unverifiable, Sims asked for photos and more information to be emailed to him.[1] Upon receipt of the photos, Sims made arrangements to go look at the bike and had decided, unbeknownst to Carla Jacobs, the museum collections manager,  to take it into the collection.

By itself, it was a pristine show piece and extremely unique.   Marvin Sims, and the rest of the board, were always finding and acquiring interesting artifacts for the museum through their diverse contacts and passionate dedication.  However, they had a reputation among the staff museum professionals as being not as prudent when it came to documenting the legal transfers to the museum.  Sims, and the board, were charismatic and passionate, but as untrained professionals they believed the adage that possession was nine-tenths of the law and that the burden of all the paperwork was just unnecessary.  They believed that no one would ever go back on their word. As such, Mr. Sims did at least make an effort to get Mr. Davies to sign a custody receipt when he went to pick up the motorcycle.  He took the single signed custody receipt and laid it on the collections manager’s desk when he returned. 

When the motorcycle arrived at the museum in late April of 2019, the entire staff celebrated landing such a rare artifact and made quick work of getting it on display. It didn’t take long before the Harley-Davidson Museum called to inquire about a possible purchase or loan. Sims informally discussed the proposal with a few board members and staff, but everyone unanimously decided that sale was not a consideration and any loan would not happen for some time.  For two months, the curator, Bobby Laird, worked day and night to create labels and a featured display among the other motorcycles in the museum.  Because of the unproven claims of ties to Elvis, the museum had decided to not include that in the public information.   Once the motorcycle was finally revealed in the public exhibit area, it quickly became a popular attraction.

Unfortunately, Mr. Davies would not see the artifact’s grand opening reception.  He passed away in late May, at the age of 84, from a massive stroke.   His untimely death coupled with the popularity of the artifact and a greedy heir led to the current accusations against the museum.  Edwin Davies, Jr., known as Eddie, was Mr. Davies son, but that apple had fallen far from the tree which gave it life.   Eddie was a trust-fund brat with a well-publicized cocaine addiction and frequently the subject of headlines. Much to the dismay of his father, Eddie never worked a day in his life and spent his time bouncing from party to party, with a few paternity lawsuits disturbing his normal daylight sleeping hours from time to time.  One afternoon as he was scrolling through his Facebook feed, a friend of his had shared an article about another Elvis motorcycle at an upcoming auction, with a possible value of $2 million.[2]   Eddie had not given his late father much thought since his passing, but he remembered the story that accompanied his dad’s motorcycle and now saw a huge benefit to himself.   A million-dollar addition to his inheritance would pay for quite a bit of fun.  

In late August, Eddie contacted the museum and spoke with Marvin Sims.   He demanded the motorcycle be returned to him as his inheritance.  When Mr. Sims disagreed and refused to return the motorcycle, Eddie threatened to sue the museum.   Mr. Sims discussed the matter with several of the board members and knew that Eddie Davies had several high-dollar and high-power attorneys on his speed dial.  They thought that they would be in for a huge legal fight but hoped that it was a passing thought and something more glamorous and fun would grab Eddie’s attention.  They chose not to tell or involve the staff in order to not upset them or worry them about the impending lawsuit and associated expenses.   They had enough to worry about with the day-to-day operations of the museum.   The newspaper article was just the opening salvo of the upcoming battle thanks to a beat reporter who was party friends with the younger Davies and an editor hungry for sensational headlines.   They had not even talked with the museum. 

Now that the headlines were out accusing the museum of theft, Sims knew he had to discuss the matter with his staff.  He returned to the break room and gathered the rest of the team.  When he broke the news and the subsequent backstory, gasps filled the room and nearly every face shifted to concern. As the team blurted out their questions and angry sentiments, the newest member of the team, Carla Jacobs, tried to relieve their concern.   Unfortunately, no one could hear her due to her quiet nature.   Finally, she raised her voice and said “Guys, remember all that stuff that I have been pushing to prioritize our collections management?  Today is one of the many reasons that I have been doing all of that. As far as legalities are concerned, We’re good!  Eddie Davies won’t have a leg to stand on in court. As for the public opinion and trust, I think that will be resolved once we share how we acquire objects, how this item in particular was brought into the collection, and show the legal documentation that validates our claim to the motorcycle.”

As the new collections manager, she had only been with the museum for fourteen months, but she had been very busy during that time.  A hush fell over the room and Sims asked her what she meant.  The staff recognized that she was not a motorcycle enthusiast like much of the team and she didn’t always socialize with them, but they knew she was the utmost professional.  In reality, she didn’t have much time to socialize during work hours because she was so adamant about getting the museum in line with industry standards for collections.   She had learned from her previous job in South Georgia how important it was and how quickly objects can land a museum in hot water.  A sound collections management policy was her first course of action.  

Ms. Jacobs knew it was not sufficient for the collections management to be limited to a good inventory, which the museum did have when she arrived.  The board and other staff members knew they needed someone to keep up with the growing collection, but they had no idea how lacking their collections management was.  They were only concerned with knowing what they had, where it was, and the stories associated with the items.  The museum needed a collections management policy that minimized risk to the collection and encompassed acquisitions, loans, deaccession, access, and collections care.[3]  A thorough collections management policy would  guide how the museum, its objects, and the public interacted now and in the future.  

Ms. Jacobs began shortly after her arrival by incorporating the museum’s mission, their governance structure, and their vision for what was ideal for the museum’s collection.[4]  Along with provision of ethical operations, these elements served as the introduction to a formal collections management policy and the foundation of the procedures it would guide.[5]   Seeing as she was so new to the organization, and recognizing the importance of constituent input, she regularly consulted with other staff and board members as she assembled a comprehensive policy.   The Memphis Museum of Motorcycles (MMM) was a collecting organization, so there had to be particular focus given to how the museum acquired new items. 

There are a multitude of ways that museums can become the repository for items, but each carry with it a set of procedures that actually give the museum title to the objects. Purchases need bills of sale or receipts.  Gifts need signed deeds of gift.  Bequests need validation.  Field collections need cleared through a number of legal guidelines intended to protect cultural assets.  Conversions necessitate meeting a different set of legal requirements.  To the same end, all need clear claims of title.[6] Contrary to the commonly cited thought, just having the item is not sufficient.   In her previous job, new leadership infuriated several local community members and they demanded their items be returned.  Ms. Jacobs had taken the job as the museum transitioned from a hobbyist museum with little recognized procedures to a professional museum but had not had time to properly secure all of the incomplete acquisitions.   Some of the items, due to the nature of the donation were deemed abandoned property and she was only starting the very lengthy process required by Georgia law to legally title the objects.[7] The museum’s leadership protested, but insufficient documentation and a lackluster follow through on the acquisitions process led to a number of objects leaving the collection.   She was determined to not let that happen again. 

Once she had a start, she relied upon industry standards to guide the process for how the museum acquires and documents their items.   She adapted the policy to fit the MMM and added sections to cover other elements related to the collection.  The policy outlined how loans would be given or taken in, who would have access to the collections, how items would be removed from the collection through deaccession, and how the collection would be cared for so that the items would be best situated for preservation. 

It was a lot of work for Ms. Jacobs, but after four months she had a draft that she circulated to the staff and board.  The staff offered some input, but the board offered very little.  In fact, several board members were concerned that she had been paid to create something that was of no importance in their opinion. Nevertheless, she persisted to push for a formal policy and the board adopted it in January of 2019.  Ms. Jacobs was satisfied that the creation and adoption was done but realized that was only part of the battle.  Getting the entire organization to buy-in and abide by the policy was also going to be a challenge but that was the only way for the museum to protect itself. 

Over the summer months, she took time to frequently remind others of the new procedures when items came into the museum.  Clearly, Mr. Sims had neglected to follow the plan when he took the new motorcycle into possession.  Ms. Jacobs had realized that it was going to take some time to get everyone following the new policy, but she was persistent. She took the custody receipt that Mr. Sims had left on her desk and made time to move it along a well-defined process that the organization had adopted. She went to the storage area, took a number of quality photographs and returned to her office.  There, she opened the collections management software on her computer, and gave it a temporary receipt number, uploaded the photographs, wrote a condition report noting any blemishes and a brief description, and noted its storage location in the computer.[8]  She also created a hardcopy of these items and put them in a filing cabinet before returning to the storage area to hang a tag with the corresponding number on the motorcycle handlebars. 

Unbeknownst to Mr. Sims, she contacted Mr. Davies from his contact information on the custody receipt.   During a brief phone call, she explained who she was, and that she needed a little bit more paperwork completed for the motorcycle.   Mr. Davies was agreeable, if not excited, to be involved in the process and getting attention for his donation.  Ms. Jacobs set up a time to go to Mr. Davies office early the next day.  After greeting him and some small talk, Ms. Jacobs got down to business.  She explained the museum’s acquisition process and the importance of it.  She informed Mr. Davies that she needed to do some preliminary research and validation of the motorcycle.  She acknowledged that it was only a formality as everyone believed it truly was a genuine 1961 Harley-Davidson DuoGlide.  Following that, the collections committee would have to formally approve acceptance of the donation. Again, she assured Mr. Davies that this was a formality as everyone was very excited about the donation.  Once formally approved, she would send Mr. Davies a deed of gift that required his signature and return to the museum.   In doing so, she explained, this would solidify the museum’s ownership of the item with clear intent, acceptance, and delivery.[9]

In addition, Ms. Jacobs elaborated on other elements of the agreement and the collections policy of the museum. She walked Mr. Davies through how the motorcycle would be cared for, so that it would be around for many future generations of motorcycle enthusiasts.  This had him outwardly proud to know that years after he was gone, his philanthropy would still be telling the story of two-wheeled excitement.   She also explained that no matter how unlikely, the museum had the right to remove the motorcycle from the collection and possibly sell, loan, or dispose of it in any other manner.  Mr. Sims was not at all happy to hear this, but after sincere consideration acknowledged that he was an avid supporter of the museum and trusted they would do what was best in the future.  

True to her word, the collections committee accepted the gift and she mailed a deed of gift to Mr. Davies two weeks later. He immediately signed and returned it.   Ms. Jacobs scanned all of the legal documentation into the digital records and made copies for the filing cabinet.  At this point, she assigned an accession number to the motorcycle and completed a more thorough condition report, description, and photographic record of every portion of the machine.  She proceeded to mark the number on the motorcycle in a way that would not be detrimental to the artifact.[10]  She hung two tags with the identification number on the motorcycle.[11]  One was in a prominent location on the handlebars and the other was more concealed on the rear fender.   When the item went on display, the handlebar tag would have to be removed, so she also used Rhoplex to adhere a small tag on the underside of the air intake cover where other motorcycles in the museum are marked.   

She asked some of her coworkers to help move the item onto the line of other motorcycles in the storage area and documented its final storage location. With these items completed, the motorcycle legally belonged to the museum, and it was completely entered into the museum’s collection according to the collections policy.  Ms. Jacobs updated her paperwork on the item and provided the necessary information and template for Mr. Sims to send a thank you letter to Mr. Davies.  Before mailing, he followed directions from Ms. Jacobs and made a copy, which he laid on her desk.  That Friday, as she always does, Ms. Jacobs produced a backup of her digital records and placed them on an offsite server in order to insure they have records no matter what happens.[12]

The motorcycle only sat in the storage area briefly before it was moved into the exhibit hall.  Throughout the process, Ms. Jacobs was involved in the handling and care of the object.  She tediously monitored the motorcycles condition at every step and noted any signs of pests or environmental damage that could be affecting the entire storage area.  The motorcycle has a number of different materials, so careful consideration was given to protecting the metals, plastics, and leather from deterioration caused by natural and artificial light.[13] 

Once Ms. Jacobs had finished explaining everything that she had quietly been doing to everyone in the breakroom, a look of astonishment came over everyone’s face.   Ms. Jacobs explained that she had been hired to do a job, so that is what she did.   She excused herself politely as she claimed she had plenty more work to do in the collection.  As she exited, she quietly asked Mr. Sims to remember this for her upcoming annual review, gave him a smile, and went back to her office.

Following the collection management policy for the first time ever, and requiring every ounce of self-restraint, Mr. Sims addressed the claim of ownership from Eddie Davies openly, seriously, responsively, and with respect to the dignity of all parties involved.[14]  After consultation with the museum’s legal counsel, the legal documentation that recorded intent, acceptance and delivery were forwarded to Eddie Davies’ lawyers and the publisher of the Memphis newspaper that had run the original article.  In addition, Sims included in his packet to The Commercial Appeal a strongly worded condemnation of their irresponsible reporting and a request for public apology.  That never came, but thousands and thousands of visitors did, especially after research had proven that the motorcycle was indeed owned and ridden extensively by Mr. Elvis Presley.    

[1] “Flowchart-object assessioning.pdf”, Atlanta History Center, accessed June 19,2020.

[2] “Elvis’s 1976 Harley Davidson, His Final Motorcycle, Could Fetch a Record $2 Million at Auction,” https://robbreport.com/motors/motorcycles/elvis-harley-davidson-electra-glide-2864061/, Accessed June 19,2020.

[3] Rebecca A. Buck and Jean Alman Gilmore, Eds., Museum Registration Methods, 5th Edition, (Washington, D.C.: The AAM Press, 2010),24.

[4] Ibid, 26.

[5] Ibid, 24.

[6] Rebecca A. Buck and Jean Alman Gilmore, Eds., Museum Registration Methods, 5th Edition, (Washington, D.C.: The AAM Press, 2010), 27.

[7] “Georgia Museum Property Act,” State of Georgia, accessed June 20, 2020.

[8] Rebecca A. Buck and Jean Alman Gilmore, Eds., Museum Registration Methods, 5th Edition, (Washington, D.C.: The AAM Press, 2010), 40.

[9] Rebecca A. Buck and Jean Alman Gilmore, Eds., Museum Registration Methods, 5th Edition, (Washington, D.C.: The AAM Press, 2010), 45.

[10] “Flowchart-object assessioning.pdf”, Atlanta History Center, accessed June 19,2020.

[11] Rebecca A. Buck and Jean Alman Gilmore, Eds., Museum Registration Methods, 5th Edition, (Washington, D.C.: The AAM Press, 2010), 234.

[12] Rebecca A. Buck and Jean Alman Gilmore, Eds., Museum Registration Methods, 5th Edition, (Washington, D.C.: The AAM Press, 2010), 159.

[13] Rebecca A. Buck and Jean Alman Gilmore, Eds., Museum Registration Methods, 5th Edition, (Washington, D.C.: The AAM Press, 2010), 290.

[14] Rebecca A. Buck and Jean Alman Gilmore, Eds., Museum Registration Methods, 5th Edition, (Washington, D.C.: The AAM Press, 2010), 71.