Ephemera, Posted on September 14, 2026

The term ephemera refers to a lot of things, but in the library world it refers to items that are deliberately transient, such as invitations, programs, brochures, flyers, and posters. Their use is intentionally temporary, and they are usually discarded after the event has taken place.
And yet we collect them anyway. They are a wonderful window into the day-to-day of a world gone by. In my world, a scrapbook is so much more valuable than a photo album, for the exact reason that the scrap book contains ephemera.
The word “ephemera” comes to us from the Greek, meaning lasting only a day.
This reminds me of a cartoon we have posted in the kitchen here at work. There is a drawing of a mayfly with the caption: Dang! I am only alive for one day and it has to be a Monday! And yes, in case you were wondering, one genus of mayfly is called Ephemera.
Well, the piece of ephemera pictured here is dated September 15, 1875, which was a Wednesday. I found it when going through a box of letters and printed items from the Hughes family. Lizzie Hughes married Robert Scott in 1883, and the rest is history. But back to ephemera.
At first I thought it was the program for the reopening of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The University closed for several years between 1871 and 1875, reopening in September of 1875. The reopening was referred to as a commencement. Now we use the term commencement for graduation at the end of the year. The next graduation for UNC would not be for a while!
This scrap of paper contains two hymns written by Cornelia Phillips Spencer, who urged the University to close during reconstruction after the Civil War, and who later urged its reopening. Cornelia is often referred to as, “The woman who rang the bell.” The bell in question was atop South Building. She must have been very brave to climb up there.
However, when I sent a copy of the item to the North Carolina collection, they could not find a match to any of their documents from the reopening.
So for now, the mystery continues . . .


