Ask those Questions! The Value of Collecting Oral Histories

How often I hear people say, “I wish that before (insert name here) passed away, I had asked her about….!” History disappears with the departed unless we’ve captured their stories—or even taken the time to ask.

My great-great-grandfather, H.H. Bancroft, began purposefully asking questions about the lives of early settlers of the West, beginning with the Californios, the Mexicans who possessed California lands before the U.S. takeover. H.H. or his clerks sat for hours writing down their reminiscences.

H.H. Bancroft’s clerk Enrique Cerruti

at left, interviewing General Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, standing, in Sonoma, c. 1875 (Courtesy of The Bancroft Library)

In my book about Matilda Bancroft and her predecessor, Writing Themselves into History: Emily and Matilda Bancroft in Journals and Letters, one chapter recounts how Matilda herself became an oral historian. She and her husband had traveled to Vancouver in 1876 where H.H. was collecting materials on the history of that region. Having witnessed the process, Matilda said, “I craved as a favor that I might take dictations.” So she began with the minister, Rev. John Good, who described the lush beauty of that northwest blend of mountains, forests, and sea, as well as the suffering of the indigenous people resulting from colonization. Matilda commented that Mr. Good “has worked with wonderful assiduity; for five days or parts of days, I have written as fast as he would dictate.”

Matilda Bancroft, c. 1880s

(Courtesy of The Bancroft Library)

Matilda completed over twenty oral histories, including with Latter Day Saints women, asking questions that surely no gentile (or non-Mormon) man could ask about the personal aspects of living in polygamy, which many of these women Matilda interviewed did.

The oral history that Matilda completed on Jane Snyder Richards, 1880 (Courtesy of The Bancroft Library)

H.H. Bancroft’s oral histories formed a significant means for saving still-living history. In 1905, his whole private collection became the foundation of The Bancroft Library at U.C. Berkeley. In 1953, the Library developed The Oral History Center, which has assiduously collected over 4000 interviews documenting California history.

I grew up knowing the significance of oral histories in my family’s past. Perhaps that inspired me to want to ask others, “Where did you come from? What has brought you to this place in your life?” That is, to understand the trajectory of someone’s upbringing, paths through work and family lives, and the cultural, social, spiritual, political, and emotional influences on them.

In future postings, I’ll share some of my experiences in taking oral histories.

For now, I insist: ASK THOSE QUESTIONS! We think we’ve heard elders or friends tell the same story over and over, and there’s nothing new to learn. But what a difference it makes when we sit with someone—even a stranger—and give them our full attention, ready to record those stories, while asking probing questions. How intriguing to learn more about family roots and branches and the larger forces that shaped their lives. That information may help us see the world anew.

A simple example: At age 25, I interviewed my beloved grandmother, Ethel Godwin, of Quincy, Florida (my mother Mae's mother). She told me about the seemingly paltry Christmas presents she’d receive in the 1910s in her poor farming family. “My mother would sew a new outfit for my doll, and we’d get a new pencil and maybe an orange.” Genuinely, she’d add, “Oh, that made me so happy!”

Ethel Godwin (1902-1998)

Hearing about those humble gifts, in contrast to the lavishness of today’s high-consuming society, gave me appreciation for a more non-material orientation to life.

What do you remember of stories told about life fifty or one hundred years ago? How did those stories shape how you think?

And whose stories might you take down—including your own!—if you were to set aside the time?

Let me know.