Do-it-yourself Living History Interview

There are some great ideas out there, and one of them is being promoted by a company called Story Corps. It is a national organization and offers self-help and family starter kits for rent to teach people how to record family histories orally. It is somewhat expensive - you might want to buy your own equipment - but the point is, it gets you started. Here is a quote from their Do-It-Yourself page:

"Record interviews to honor the lives of the people you love, to create your own archive, and to celebrate holidays and family events, such as Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, or graduation. The stories you collect will become treasured keepsakes that grow more valuable with each passing generation."

I couldn't agree more, candidly, as I started this project with this exact sentiment in mind. Your story may interest me and future generations, but the most likely fans of your living history will be those from future generations in your own family.

So often I hear older people say to their friends, children or grandchildren, "I wish you had known my mother (or father, or brother). You would have loved her (him, etc.).  And she would have loved you too!"

Or a relative says, "You remind me so much of your grandmother! She had the same beautiful smile."

I never met my maternal grandmother as she died when my mother was only 18. My grandfather remarried my step-grandmother and they were together for almost forty years, but he would always hug me when he saw me and say, "You know why I love you? Because you remind me so much of my wife!" Of course, it was a bit mortifying that my other grandmother had to bear witness to this I thought at the time, but at one point that grandmother lived with my husband and me. She told me that she was just a girl when she met my grandfather. He was her brother's good friend in the police department. 

This man I knew as Uncle Gene Tobin, who was probably the most wonderful man I have ever met. He was kind and understanding, had a great sense of humor, was beloved when he was the Chief of Police in Everett, Massachusetts and after retirement - because he was so social - became involved with the security department at the Museum of Natural History in Boston. All I remember is taking my kids there when little baby chicks were hatching from an incubator and were on display. Luckily I was tall enough to see over the heads of all the small children who were mobbing the display and could lift mine up to see too.

I am sure my children don't remember, they were small then, but I do. I was happy to see him if it was only for ten minutes.  Everybody was. And my step-grandmother, Joanne, was never jealous of my grandmother either. She was a professional woman - which in those days meant a secretary for John Hancock Insurance in Boston - and she had opted not to have children when Mr. Right hadn't come along early in her life. By the time she met my grandfather she was in her late thirties and my grandfather was a rather tragic figure with thousands of dollars in medical bills from my bio-grandmother's 11 year battle with cancer.

My mother had been jealous of losing her father's attention when he remarried - she was in her second year of college, I might add - and disliked her grandmother intensely because of it. When I adored her, my mother told me she was a 'flapper and wore bright red lipstick'. My mother wore bright red lipstick, too, but somehow she didn't get the connection.  Flappers?  I thought they looked so cool with their beads, short hair, hats and flouncy dresses. That made my grandmother so exciting, as I knew her as an old woman, of course.

Grandma Joanne ended up living with my husband and me for a while when we lived overseas. learned from my grandmother that she wasn't jealous of my bio-grandmother. She'd been 12 years younger than my grandfather and that was a different lifetime that had nothing to do with her. They were happily married a long time and had a good life together. He deserved it and so did she.


It was sad to see this woman who had been so full of life and expectations lose her mental faculties, as it was the first experience I had as an adult with death.  My father died three months later, which was a terribly distressing time for all of us. I still think back and wish I had spent more time with him. How I wish I had asked him about his life, his dreams, his political beliefs, but I was too self-centered at the time, like many young (and old) people. I
I hope you write your stories or record them or preserve them on video. You won't regret it.

Don't Limit Living History to Family Stories

One of the biggest mistakes many of us make when envisioning a Living History Project is by restricting ourselves to the familiar. Unless we have a famous uncle who invented the toilet plunger or an artist relative with a work in the Smithsonian, most Americans tend to downplay our own family histories.

Of course this makes sense in a culture that is founded on individualism and freedom for the average person, but community has always been an amazing part of American life. That sense of community and how it is expressed is what intrigues me about the Ridgefield area, and I would like to know all the people who live here.  Why not?  It is a fascinating bunch of great people.

So... when thinking about what could possibly interest another person about your life experience, or that of your ancestors, don't forget your friends too! They are your chosen family perhaps, but friends and neighbors are part of our lives and mean a great deal to us.  They may also be interesting characters all on their own.

For instance, my mother-in-law lived in southern Ridgefield near the Fairgrounds for forty-two years.  The first thirty she had never ventured into downtown Ridgefield even once.  She didn't even know how to get there, as she worked in Portland and all her travels by car were southerly.

Her first trip into downtown Ridgefield was filled with amazement.  I can still remember her saying, "They have a post office and a hardware store and a library!"  She also loved the food at the old Victoria's Restaurant, now the Pioneer Street Cafe. Eventually she ventured up as far north as the Oak Tree as she loved their salad with the beets and sunflower seeds. After we started the Ridgefield Art Association in 1993, she came to our May Art Show for many years.

I admit I ordered the Mature Learners Catalogue be sent to her house after she retired, as she was a very fit  if introverted woman and her younger friends were still working.  She was going a little crazy with nothing much to do, so I was talking to her about volunteering or taking up a hobby.  She had mentioned that she had always wanted to paint. I knew she read two things religiously from cover to cover. The Reflector and every bit of her mail, junk or otherwise. One day she called me and asked if I would help sign her up for a class.  Then she explained how like a miracle, this catalogue had come to her 'out of the blue' in her mail.  She studied watercolor painting at Clark for five years, starting her art class at the age of 76! 

There are also very unconventional ways to preserve living history other than just writing memoirs - for you or other people. There are recipes people have given us , pieces of art, photographs, recordings, old year books, newspaper clippings somebody saved, magazines from the attic. They may not be about your ancestors or relations, but maybe somebody else in Ridgefield or the Clark County area would treasure them. Plus the old garage and attic thing are problems and there can always be a house fire. Things happen.

So talk about them, write about them, try to remember them.  Nobody is going to judge your stories, your history or how you experienced it.  This is your viewpoint, nobody else's.  That's what makes a Living History Project so special.  Everything is wide open. Let's talk or come to our first meeting on May 25th at 7:00 p.m. at the Pickled Heron Gallery, 418 Pioneer, Ridgefield, WA 98642.