Turning a Love of History into the Job of Preserving Maine's Heritage

Below is a lightly edited transcript of conversations with three Bowdoin graduates—all history or art history majors—who have impacted Maine's historic preservation field. (A short version of this interview appeared in the Fall 2025 Bowdoin Magazine.)

Deborah Gilbreath Andrews ’77 majored in art history at Bowdoin and earned a master's degree in historic preservation from the University of Vermont. She was executive director of Greater Portland Landmarks, a nonprofit formed in 1964, before leading the city of Portland’s historic preservation program for more than three decades until her retirement in 2022. 

Tim Brosnihan ’99 majored in history and minored in visual arts at Bowdoin, and he earned a master’s degree in historical archaeology from the University of Maine. He has worked at Victoria Mansion, a National Historic Landmark and museum, since 2002 in several positions before being appointed assistant director in 2010 and executive director in 2021.

Shannon Gilmore ’02 majored in history and minored in German at Bowdoin, and she earned a master’s degree in historic preservation from Goucher College. She is past president of the board of trustees at Pejepscot History Center in Brunswick, and became director of Lincoln County Historical Association four years ago.

What drew you to a career in historic preservation?

Deb: I spent most of my childhood in the state of Texas and moved to Maine when I was fourteen years old. I remember loving it here immediately. The built environment made a huge impression on me. There was a sense of rootedness and connection to community that I had this visceral reaction to, and of people living comfortably with their history.

Tim: Nobody who knew me when I was young is surprised by what I do for a living today. My interest in history and art seems to be hard-wired. Stints working as a hands-on interpreter at Old Sturbridge Village, and studying art and American history at Bowdoin and historical archaeology at the University of Maine, reinforced my belief that material things have as much to tell us about the past as written documents. 

Shannon: I’ve always been going in this direction, ever since I was a kid. Maybe it was because I grew up in a small town, in Kingfield, Maine, where my family had been for generations. I felt very connected to the history of that place and always wanted to learn more about it and make sure those stories weren’t lost.

Slideshow: Saving Portland's Old Buildings

Can you tell me about a project you worked on that was particularly special to you?

Deb: During my time with Greater Portland Landmarks, I worked hard for the adoption of a local preservation ordinance in Portland. Without it, a community leaves to chance the preservation of its historic assets. No amount of advocacy will save a building if the owner is determined to demolish or wholesale remodel it, and you have no legal mechanism in place to protect it.

Passage of the ordinance [in 1990] was a very gratifying moment for me, as it put in place a comprehensive mechanism to designate areas of historic and/or architectural significance and to effectively manage change in those areas. I was very fortunate to go on to oversee the city’s preservation program. Over the next three decades I witnessed the positive transformation of so many historic buildings and neighborhoods. I’m proud to think I had a hand in that transformation. [Read about other major projects accomplished by Andrews in the slideshow above.]

Shannon: My passion, and what I wrote my thesis about, is Maine’s grange halls. I see a lot of grange halls around the state where the grange members need help to care for their buildings.

The grange came onto the scene in the late 1800s to benefit farmers, to help them educationally, socially, and economically. The grange is important in Maine for advocating for rural people, farmers’ rights, and offering women equal standing before they could vote nationally.

The grange halls have had meetings continuously for 125 years or more, although over time their focus has changed as farming has changed—they are not all agriculturally based. But they are still places in communities, often small communities, where people gather.

There are around eighty active granges in Maine—those are the ones I’m looking at; they’re the top priority for preservation. Many are still being used as grange halls, some have been repurposed for other uses, and many others are in peril.

Can you tell me what is most satisfying about helping to maintain the Victoria Mansion for the public?

Tim: The best thing about my work here is the people. Between members of the staff and outside artisans, conservators, and consultants…I work with a lot of smart, creative, and skilled people who approach preservation through different disciplines and help produce better outcomes for the building, the public who come to enjoy it, and for future generations. When I think back on projects that I have enjoyed, faces pop into my mind as often as objects or parts of the building. 

Why should people care about preserving the built environment from the past? 

Deb: Historic buildings and neighborhoods are the most tangible evidence of our shared history; they are a vehicle for storytelling, for telling a story of the community in ways that photographs and other archives don’t do. People feel a deep-seated connection to areas that retain a unique sense of place, where layers of history are still evident.

There is also the fact that many historic buildings exhibit materials, construction techniques, or styles that are virtually impossible to achieve today because of the economics of construction. So many of the commercial structures built today, for example, look alike. You just don’t see commercial towers with iconic rooflines anymore!

Tim: The built environment is like a crystallization of human culture: it reflects the outlooks, values, creativity, and technologies of past peoples. It also reflects their ideas about beauty. If you open yourself up and really look, you can connect with the people of the past through the things they left behind, buildings included. And this, like foreign travel, is an enlarging experience, one that broadens our perspective as human beings. I also believe that older and historic buildings, especially those built before the widespread adoption of prefab components, have a special, handmade beauty that hums with human energy.

Shannon: It comes back to the thing I love so much, which is a sense of place. Sometimes people look at historical preservation and think it is just about protecting architectural marvels, but it can be the preservation of any place or building that has meaning to people. Preserving the built environment is also preserving stories and helping to connect us to our roots and heritage, which is incredibly meaningful.

How do we balance protecting the past while also opening up space for innovative contemporary ideas? 

Deb: A lot of folks assume that those who are interested in preserving the past want to freeze things in amber and have no interest in contemporary architecture. In my experience, that’s just not the case. When introducing a new building within a historic streetscape, preservationists don’t want mimicry or sad replicas of old buildings. It is entirely possible—I would say encouraged—to have a new building that is a clear product of its own time. The designer or architect is simply asked to consider the surrounding streetscape and develop a design solution that reflects or reinforces some of the key characteristics that are common within that context. This “tethers” the new building to its surroundings and can be achieved in a contemporary way. Some of the most interesting new buildings in Portland sit cheek-by-jowl with historic buildings, where a creative tension is created between new and old.

Tim: I don’t see much inherent conflict here. Having seen my share of beautiful, interesting, and otherwise significant buildings torn down in the name of progress, I can say that few projects come along that can only be accomplished by destroying a piece of history. There is always another path forward. In most cases, people destroy historic properties because they see no inherent value in them. I hope the work that we do at Victoria Mansion helps shine a spotlight on what historic buildings can offer modern people.

Shannon: It is an important question everywhere, in cities and in rural areas. You can look at a historic building and some will say, 'That is in the way of progress and of a new sense of place and new set of memories for people.' I think the best way to balance this is to go to the community, rather than use a top-down approach. You need to ask the community, to ask those who care about the place, who have stories here, to help you identify what is prime for preservation.

Slideshow: Lincoln County Relics 

The Lincoln County Historical Association protects and maintains three National Register–listed buildings: the 1754 Chapman-Hall House, the 1761 Pownalborough Court House, and the 1811 Old Jail with its attached 1839 Jailer’s House. “Each of these places has an incredible story to tell as it helps us interpret local history, and we’re constantly working to uncover fuller narratives that deepen our understanding of the past,” Gilmore said.

Also, this is a quick history lesson (for me!): When did historic preservation take off in this country and what propelled it?

Deb: The earliest documented effort to preserve a historic structure was in 1816, when a group formed to preserve Independence Hall in Philadelphia from demolition. A lot of early efforts were driven by a sense of patriotism, so there was the Mt. Vernon Ladies’ Association that organized in 1853 to preserve Mt. Vernon, the plantation home of George Washington.

A handful of cities like Charleston and San Antonio developed ordinances very early on, in the 1930s, recognizing their historic built environment was a key asset that warranted protection.

Federal recognition began in 1906 with the Antiquities Act that allowed the president to designate national monuments—not only open spaces but also physical monuments. The National Trust for Historic Preservation, a private nonprofit, organized in 1949 to support local preservation efforts.

And the National Historic Preservation Act, which was essential for creating a framework for efforts and a whole methodology and standard by which communities review projects, was passed in 1966 under President Lyndon Johnson.

Tim: The push to save George Washington’s Mount Vernon in the 1850s is often cited as one of the first significant preservation victories in the country. Most cities or regions of the country have ‘that one building’ that was threatened or destroyed, galvanizing the local preservation movement. Here in Portland it was Union Station, torn down in 1961 despite public outcry.

Urban renewal efforts in the 1950s and 1960s took their toll on historic buildings and neighborhoods across the country. Opposition mounted. The Historic Preservation Act of 1966 marked a new era of federal involvement in preservation, creating both the National Register of Historic Places and state historic preservation offices that continue to do important work identifying, documenting, and protecting historic properties.

Shannon: In the middle of the last century, historical preservation started to crop up around the country. While there had been interest before that, one of the things that vaulted the movement into prominence was a pushback against urban renewal. A lot of city centers were starting to crumble, and there was this conflict between an urban renewal where we tear things down and start fresh, or one that preserves historic places. Penn Station in New York City, which was built in the Beaux-Arts style in 1910, was a catalyst for historic preservation when it was demolished in 1963.

You started to see a lot of preservation organizations cropping up around then, like the Lincoln County Historical Association, where I work, which formed in 1954.

Are there ways that your academic or extracurricular work at Bowdoin came into play in your career?

Deb: Going to Bowdoin was a huge influence on me. Studying art history, including architectural history, no doubt sparked my interest in preservation. The campus itself was a huge influence as well. When you walk through campus, you feel the presence of generations before you, and you can see the beginnings of the College and the layers of additions to the campus responding to the growth of the school. It was all there—tangible links to that history. Also, I was really struck with Bowdoin’s sense of stewardship and respect for what the College had inherited, even as it grew as an institution.

Tim: I majored in American history at Bowdoin and gravitated pretty quickly toward social history, which focuses on the lived experiences of everyday people. Summers throughout my Bowdoin years I worked at Old Sturbridge Village, which complimented my studies and stoked my growing interest in material culture. The academic rigor at Bowdoin, with so much reading, writing, and critical thinking, set me up for success in my career in the museum world. I thought a four-page paper was a heavy lift in college, but there are days now where I do nothing but write!

Shannon: I remember agonizing over what to declare as a major, despite what now feels obvious in hindsight: I’ve always been captivated by the past and by drawing connections between history and the present. Even before I declared a major, I found myself taking all kinds of history courses just for fun. When it finally dawned on me that I should major in history, everything clicked. I truly believe that a deeper understanding of the past helps us make better sense of our lives and the world around us. Placing ourselves in the context of time offers an important perspective on the experiences we are having and the issues we face today.