Tag Archives: family stories

Echoes Through the Generations

Caleb same pose as Grampie

Caleb Rae (with cousin Em Turner Chitty) 2017, Coalmont, TN

GH Kuhl portrait

Glen Kuhl, early 1900s, Wisconsin

The first time I saw the photo, my first thought was, “That’s my son.” But in fact, I was assured that the young man in the photo, who was standing in the dirt road, was actually my grandfather Glen, who had died before I was born. I’d never met him, and yet, I knew that stance. It was so familiar because my son often stood in this same pose, looking thoughtful, listening intently, or simply pondering his surroundings. Continue reading

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Just a Whistle

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When you have a bunch of kids, sometimes you need to whistle to get their attention!

Working as  a personal historian, I never know what it will take to get someone talking. Some folks easily call up memories, while others need the stories drawn out of them. And then sometimes, all it takes is a whistle. MTH

It was just a whistle—I looked around but saw no one whistling, and the woman behind the desk was fussing with her phone. I finally asked her—“Were you whistling?” Continue reading

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A Trip in Time–Visiting Wellesley College’s Botanic Gardens

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In the greenhouse at Wellesley College

The trails hereabouts were all clear as we approached spring, until we were hit with a late season blizzard, and so it’s back to icy trails and the challenge to find safe places to walk. When my hiking buddy Jennifer suggested visiting Wellesley College’s Botanic Gardens, my first thought was, “Yeah, no ice!” I did not, however, expect to be transported back to the years of my childhood. Continue reading

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A question and a story

Don & M 3-7-09

My dad and I

Do you know when you’re going to die? Well, I don’t know the answer to that, for you, for others, for myself. But since I’m a storyteller from way back, here’s a story:

You know, my dad was lucky. Three months before he died, Dad sat in his living room watching four of his teen grandchildren gathered on the floor around him, reading chapters of his soon-to-be-published memoir. He and I had spent a number of weekends together over the previous several years, working together to help document his life lessons and experiences. I clarified details of stories that didn’t quite hold together, drawing out more information. The more he shared, the more he remembered other events. Continue reading

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Connecting the dots–talking about personal histories and Easy Walking trails

Here’s a fun conversation I had recently with Liz Myska of Worcester, who invited me to appear on her “Connecting the Dots” community cable show. We talked about personal histories, and our love of the outdoors. Liz is visually impaired and advocates for the elderly and disabled in her capacity as a lawyer. She is also a great friend.

http://www.wccatv.com/video/connecting-the-dots/CONNECTINGTHEDOTS19

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Making Thanksgiving Family Memories

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Pumpkin pie in the making at Grandma’s house

Pie-making was on the agenda for today, as was putting together the cranberry relish. My grand girl Nicole was available and willing, so I grabbed her from the bus and brought her straight over to my kitchen for us to get right to work together. Continue reading

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Story Magic

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Sharing stories between generations is magic, no matter the form those stories take

Here’s a recent blog post  I shared, of discovering the connections between the performing Storytelling world and the community of Personal Historians. The most important commonality? Story magic.

http://lanes.org/storytelling-and-personal-history/

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Time Machine a Reality? Only if You’re Very Lucky

I was recently invited to guest post on Family Legal Partner’s blog about ‘legacy’ and thought of a story I could share. It’s a simple story of something my dad taught me as we worked to share his stories of growing up. When I thought about what happened to him in this process, I realized he had given me a key to creating a personal time machine.

One of my dad's first letters to the woman who would be his wife for the coming 50 years

One of my dad’s first letters to the woman who would be his wife for the coming 50 years

To learn more, Continue reading

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