The buttons came out of storage and became the focal point of the museum, home to one of the country's largest button collections.
In this Western Massachusetts town of about 8,000 people, it's little surprise that the museum's care fell into the hands of those who knew and admired Moulton. And it figures that they're as passionate about button collecting as she was, some holding official positions in the Massachusetts State Button Society. So the newly appointed caretakers of the Keep Homestead Museum set out cataloging and showcasing as many of Myra's buttons as they could. To date, about 6,000 are on display throughout the Keep family's farmhouse on Ely Road. Thousands more are still being inventoried.
"Myra saw buttons as miniature works of art," said Jacquie Hatton, president of the friends of the museum and a past president of the state's button society. "This was her passion."
Case after case holds buttons from around the world with histories spanning hundreds of years. English-made copper buttons that were excavated from Revolutionary War battlefield sites fill one shelf. On another, buttons from Okinawa are carved into the faces of Asian deities like Jurojin, the god of long life, and Benzaiten, the goddess of beauty. Mother-of-pearl buttons glisten not far from duller, intricately carved buttons of bone. And one display shows the evolution of political buttons, from Zachary Taylor's 1848 campaign to the "I Like Ike" pins of the 1952 campaign.
But the prize of the lot is the collection of about 600 mosaic buttons. Made in Rome and Florence in the 1850s, these buttons -- some as small as a pinky fingernail -- have designs of animals, buildings, flowers, and birds. At first glance, the motifs look painted on backgrounds of onyx, silver, or brass. But under a closer inspection with a magnifying glass, it's clear the designs were made from minuscule pieces of colored stone or glass.
