My story…
Stories about everyday people have long held a special meaning for me. Real-life recollections of joys and sorrows, adversities and triumphs, relationships, hopes, and dreams—to me, these narrative threads are what bind humankind.
Documenting important moments among my own family members began at age 9, when I received a camera for Christmas. It was a modest apparatus, to be sure, but with it I captured the world around me—from family celebrations to mundane activities like working in our garden. Looking at those photographs today evokes powerful memories of carefree days on the family farm where my seven siblings and I were raised.
Pictures, however, reveal only part of a story (and often not the most meaningful part). Behind each image lies a collection of emotions running through the minds and hearts of the subjects. When we see a portrait of a smiling family, for example, it is impossible to access the complex relationships, the aspirations or the fears of the subjects by simply gazing at the photograph. Most of the time we’re lucky if the date or place the photo was taken is scrawled on the back. That is why oral histories are so essential; they reveal a more complete and meaningful account of our lives from which we can draw not just a sense of nostalgia but also fortitude and wisdom.
My first experience interviewing someone for a life history came at age 15, when a class assignment led me to interview my uncle, then age 67. I inquired about a variety of topics: his life as a dairy farmer, what historical figure he’d most like to have dinner with, the role of faith in his life. It was only when he passed away unexpectedly a few months later that I understood the value of the audio recording we had made. Today the tape is among my aunt’s most valued possessions. Lesson learned.
After earning an undergraduate degree in sociology and a master’s in communication, I spent the early part of my career working in public relations and as a freelance writer and consultant. Throughout that period, the projects that most inspired me were those that involved interviewing people and learning about their world through their own words.
In 2005, I had the extraordinary opportunity to interview my 73-year-old aunt in a professional recording booth as part of the remarkable
Story Corps project, a regular feature on
National Public Radio. The experience proved life changing. My regard for the value of passing down stories to others deepened tremendously. I knew then that helping others record their oral histories was my calling, and Retrospectives was born. I joined the Association of Personal Historians in 2007.
I am humbled by the trust and confidence that clients place in me as I assist them in telling their stories. It’s an uncommon privilege to serve as a conduit between the past, present and future. I am grateful to have met scores of so-called ordinary people, each one of whom possesses an extraordinary personal history.
Catherine Warmerdam