Before I get into evaluation of specific apps (which will come in Part 2, Part 3, Part n¡), I’ll lay the groundwork here for the criteria I use to make that evaluation. You may find that I touch on some of your pet peeves about why you don’t like some apps as well as others.
Audio recording apps for the family historian come in two major flavors: apps to record audio only, and special-purpose story-catching apps. Both of these work for face-to-face conversations. (A third type of app, to record phone calls, won¡¯t be covered in this series. It¡¯s on my To Do list, though.)
This category of apps has a simple purpose: Record audio. Capture sound into a digital audio file. Transfer from device to computer.
The purpose for the recording doesn¡¯t matter ¡ª it can be an interview, a musical session, a meeting or lecture. The app does not care. Just launch, check your settings, press the app¡¯s record button, and go.
Because of the simplicity of the task, it is straightforward to judge whether an app should go on the ¡°Use this!¡± list.
Story-catching apps serve a slightly different purpose than a basic audio app.
Recording audio is only one section of the app. A story-catching app is geared to accomplish a sequence of tasks.
(Not every item on this list appears as part of every story-catching app.)
A story-catching app is more complex; it has more jobs to do. My review of these apps will weigh whether the app succeeds at all the tasks.
What makes for a successful app? What makes for an app that fails? Here, dear reader, are my assumptions and evaluation criteria.
I look an app from the perspective of a person who wants to collect stories from family members. Failure to do so is not life threatening. We are not talking about say, a faulty gas or brake pedal in an automobile¡ª where bad design results in car crashes that kill people.
However, the price of failure is high. Some of these conversations take place in high-stakes settings where there are no do-overs if there¡¯s a problem with the product.
I previously described the recording that got away at the family gathering right after my Dad¡¯s memorial. When the product design for a portable recorder (must press the record button twice) encountered a tech savvy person worn out by the mental and emotional fatigue of producing that family memorial, the result was epic fail. The story that changed everything got away. It would have been totally inappropriate to say, Oh, Uncle, I was recording that but I missed it. Would you please repeat the story? No. Epic Fail.
Another ¡°high-stakes¡± scenario I saw described on the internets recounted how the family tried to use a product to record a parent¡¯s stories. That parent was days from death. The product failed. Sorry, no do-over.
Bearing in mind the high stakes for failure to successfully capture a recording, the other perspective I use to evaluate an app is from a usability design.
In order to be an app you can entrust to capture stories from family members, the user interface (UI) and workflow must make you successful. Failure is not an option. How does a well-designed UI do that?
TL;DR (Too Long; Didn¡¯t Read) All evaluation criteria can be distilled into this: Does the app make you a success? Does the app help, or does it get in the way?
First launch of the app. The app introduces its purpose, workflow and mental model at launch. A good first launch successfully introduces you to the ¡°Here, dear user, is why I ¡ª the App ¡ª exist. This is going to be a good experience. You¡¯ll like it. You¡¯ll be a success.¡±
A good first launch experience will take you past the ¡°Why bother?¡± barrier.
Success is Easy. The app swiftly takes you from first launch to successful accomplishment of the task. When you first use the app, how many steps do you need to go through to get from ¡°begin¡± to ¡°done?¡± A good app gives you an easy win. If it takes too many steps or the process is too fussy, the app gets relegated to the ¡°Why bother?¡± pile.
Orientation, Predictable Choices, Current Status. A good UI provides you with a clear sense of ¡°you are here¡± and ¡°here¡¯s where you can go¡± and ¡°this is what I (the app) am doing right now.¡± The app is clear and predictable.
Orientation = you are here. The screen and interface elements clearly indicate to you where you are.
Prediction = Here¡¯s where you can go. You can successfully predict what will happen if you touch this or swipe that. (Examples: If I tap this button, I¡¯ll be led to a menu of topics to select from. If I tap that control, the app will start recording. Bad UI: Though this looks like the other buttons, when I tap it, nothing happens.)
Status = App: this is what I¡¯m doing right now. Progress bars tell you how long the process will take. Numbers counting up tell you the elapsed time on your recording in progress. Spinning spokes indicate the app is at work on a short task.
A good UI does all these things so you know what¡¯s happening. A bad UI will lose and confuse you.
Flexible, not rigid. A flexible app has good navigation. You can go forward, or move a step back if you want. Flexibility offers you more one way to accomplish a task. A rigid app imposes itself on you, forcing you to accomplish a task in one ¡ª and only that one ¡ª way. Did you change your mind about something? Sorry, loser. It¡¯s my way or the highway.
My data. What does the app do with the recordings it creates? How do you export recordings from the app? What destinations does the app provide you? An online service? Your computer? Your cloud storage space? How much control does the app give you over that recording?
Docs. Is the product documented? Is the documentation clear? Is it helpful?
What does an audio recording app need to have in order to make it onto my shortlist?
There are four Basic ¡°must haves¡± in order to be considered a good audio app.
Why does this matter?
Audio Level Meter.
The app must display some visual representation of the sound levels going into the app. You need to know that the app is ¡°hearing¡± the sounds around the device.
Recording Time elapsed.
The app must display how long this current recording has lasted. Bonus: The app should display how much recording time remains on the device, given the amount of storage space available.
Good basic UI (User Interface).
Does the app enable you to complete your chosen task, or does it app get in the way? How does the app meet all the criteria I set out earlier in the UI and Workflow section, above?
In addition, if that app offers more features and functionality do those features make sense?
Since the story-catching app has only recently appeared on the scene, creating a new app genre, it¡¯s harder to put together a list of must-haves. The field is still emerging and evolving. So here are my sorta must haves.
I¡¯ve already stated that the story-catcher app seeks to complete more tasks. For me, ¡°simple¡± trumps ¡°complex,¡± and the story-catching app has more challenges to meet. The bottom-line question I¡¯m asking myself when I look at these apps: What does the story-catching app provide that merits its use more than a simple recording app with a list of interview questions?
I¡¯ve grouped my evaluation criteria into the major phases of the app¡¯s workflow.
I¡¯m stretching the definition of upload to handle all aspects of how the audio file gets transferred out of the app to other places ¡ª your computer and the online service.
Sharing your file with trusted individuals is the central task of file management.
All the User Interface (UI) and workflow criteria I mentioned earlier apply for story-catching apps.
Simpler is better. It is possible to get the job done with a straightforward recording app. The bottom line question, then, is Is this app a better alternative? Does the app offer so much more than a standard recording app? Does it do the job well?
Thank you for making your way through my evaluation criteria. Seriously, thank you. The next post in this series will skip past all this TMI (too much information), and jump straight to ¡°I know you don¡¯t have all day, so here are the good apps.¡± Somewhere, though, it¡¯s good to state for the record what standards are being applied for product evaluation.
Let the record state it. And lo, it was stated. Right here.
Next up: Audio recording only apps. I¡¯ll quickly narrow the field to the apps that meet my minimum criteria, and review them from there.
In a subsequent post (or set of posts), I¡¯ll cover the the story-catching apps.
What do YOU think makes for a good app? (This can be for any type of app.) Do you have any pet peeves about apps and their usability?
Agree with my standards? Disagree? Say so below in the comments.
]]>Clint asked,
Question about the power supply. It looks to be a pretty standard setup, do you think an iphone wall plug-in power supply paired with the proper USB cord would work just the same?
Clint figured if he could do without the power supply, he¡¯d be fine.
I grabbed my iPhone plug, a USB cable, and tried it out.
I¡¯m thrilled to report that it works!
Of course, in this picture, I have the Zoom H1 Handy set on the tripod that also comes with the Accessory Kit
(mostly so it would be easier to photograph both the Zoom Handy H1 recorder and my wall socket.)
No one paid me to write about these products. Any purchase made through my Affiliate links support my research into tools and techniques for capturing and preserving family stories.
]]>If you haven’t done so already, download Easy Voice Recorder at the Google Play store. It’s free. You can get the Pro version for $3.99. (Go ahead, give the developer some love and coin. I definitely recommend the Pro version if you’ll be using an external microphone like the Edutige EIM-001, because you can adjust the gain [volume] setting in the Pro version.)
If you only have time or patience to do one thing, do this. It makes all the difference between cruddy sounding audio and nice, high-quality audio. At the end of the set-up, you’ll be creating audio recordings at the same resolution quality as the Audio CD standard. Your files will be saved as .WAV files.
Why not compressed MP3 or AAC or WMA or some other audio file format? No need. File compression is necessary when storage space is expensive, or when transfer speed is a consideration —such as immediately uploading a file to the cloud. Storage for audio will not break your pocketbook. At all. If you have an Android phone that has a slot for a microSD card, the cost of a card runs roughly one dollar per gigabyte. For less than ten bucks, you can get an 8 GB card that will hold 26 hours of audio (recorded in mono format, which is standard for Android devices). That’s enough for a family trip with multiple interview sessions, with space left over! So make your recordings using a solid full-resolution standard: 16-bit, 44.1kHz uncompressed WAV file.
Here’s how.
[Note: Click to embiggen any of these images]
44100 Hz 16-bit PCM mono
You’re now ready go record!
Setting up the Recording Settings, a review:
Easy Voice Recorder > Settings > Recording > Output format > Highest quality: PCM
Easy Voice Recorder > Settings > Recording > Sample rate > 44100hz (cd quality)
Easy Voice Recorder > Settings > Recording > 16-bit PCM ?
This is a quick change to Easy Voice Recorder that makes it easier to recognize the Record button at a glance. (Anything that makes it easier to tell what you’re doing—in a split second glance—is a major win and worth doing.)
Now, when you want to record, just press the red button. Easy.
Changing the Display Setting, a review:
Easy Voice Recorder > Settings > Display > Colored recorder button ?
This final configuration settings is optional. You’ll be okay with the default file names of My recording #1.wav, My recording #2.wav etc. But it’s always nice to give a set of recordings names that are more meaningful. If you take these next steps, you won’t have to look at My recording #14.wav and wonder, “What is this audio file?”
Here’s what to do.
When you press the record button, Easy Voice Recorder displays the filename above the microphone icon.
Customizing your audio file name, to review:
Easy Voice Recorder > Settings > Storage and naming > Custom file prefix ? > File name prefix > [Enter your file name]
There you have it: Three things to do to get Easy Voice Recorder ready for recording interviews.
Did you just use this to get set up? Please say so with a Tweet!
Related: If you are using an older Android device (pre Android 4) and a Mac, here’s more about how to get audio from your Android to your computer.
The Everything Rootstech 2013 page
April showers bring May flowers. May flowers bring on travel season. If you’ll be visiting family, put Interviewing on your To Do list.
(Mother’s Day, Graduation Day, Father’s Day, 4th of July, Vacation time. Reunions. You know, family visits.)
This Friday’s GenChat will be devoted to what to do.
Want to do some story catching during a family visit? Join us. Ask questions. Tell about your experiences. Share tips.
(One of my college professors wrote exam questions that began, “Succinctly describe¡” That was prep for Twitter. 140 characters at a time.)
I’m practicing my succinctness. Each paragraph here has no more than 140 characters. Plus, all the words are spelled out. SRSLY! (oh. oops.)
It’s all about Q & A, so let’s start:
Q: What time does it start?
A: Friday, April 26, 7pm Pacific, 8pm Mountain, 9pm Central, 10pm Eastern.
Q: If I don’t have a Twitter account, can I still follow along?
A: Yes. Go to this link, and you will see all tweets that include the hashtag #GenChat.
Q: Susan, what’s your Twitter handle?
A: @susankitchens.
Q: If I don’t make it to #GenChat, is there any place I can read the chat transcript?
A: Yes. There will be a Storify collection of everyone’s tweets (I’ve updated this post with a link to it)
Q: Who hosts GenChat?
A: GenChat is a production of In-Depth Genealogy @indepthgen and Conference Keeper @confkeep
Q: I have another question that you didn’t list here.
A: Please ask it in the comments!
]]>My Rootstech 2013 landing page for Rootstech attendees, with links to all my articles on interviewing.
Rootstech Session Syllabus
The session syllabus, on the Rootstech site. LOTS of detail there. Lots. Just go download the PDF right now. And hey, it links to the Rootstech 2013 page, mentioned above.
The mother of all posts with all the audio-in compabitility for each and every iOS device since Apple introduced the iPhone and iPod Touch in 2007.
Now here Still to come: A summary of my slides of the process of setting up Easy Voice Recorder on Android.
Recommended Apps for iOS devices (these links will open in the iTunes Store)
Free: R?DE Rec LE
Paid: R?DE Rec, FiRe (Field Recorder). $6 and oh so worth it.
They’re the same thing under the hood; both the R?DE mic manufacturers and Blue Mic manufacturers licensed the software from Audiofile Engineering.
Recommended Apps for Android
Easy Voice Recorder. Free version is ad-supported and does the trick.
Easy Voice Recorder Pro. Pony up a few bucks to get the ability to adjust the microphone. (Necessary if you’re using the Edutige EIM-001, a mic that amplifies audio; it may amplify things too much tho without a control for microphone sound levels!).
If you’ve got Android 4.0+, try the just released iRig Recorder, by IK multimedia, makers of the iRig MicCast. I need to spend a bit more time with this; using older Android devices at the moment.
Don’t know which version of the Android Operating System you have? Look at the bottom of this post for how to check your own.
Got a story about your own experience interviewing family? A question? Someplace you got stuck? Tell me. I want to know. In the comments, or via the contact link. I’m all ears.
(oh, and my mega-Rootstech roundup post is still in progress. Which do you want first: “Easy Voice Recorder screenshots” or “Rootstech the show: How It all Was for me?” Right. I’m on it. Easy Voice Recorder Slides come first.)
]]>In the world of iOS devices—iPhone, iPod Touch, iPad—there are three possible ways to capture sound for audio recording: The dock, headphone+mic port, and built-in microphone. Not every device has all three (especially the earliest generations of iOS devices). Plus, microphones that “fit” into the same 30-pin dock may or may not work. It’s a compability thing. All—and I mean all—your compatibility confusion is cleared up here.
First, identify the model of your iPhone, iPod Touch or iPad. I present them here based on when they were manufactured (early—pre-iPad era, middle, and most recent—late 2012-2013).
After you find your model, look immediately below for a table showing what equipment is compatible with that model.
But first, a bit of long story short conclusions about microphones for the iOS ecosystem:
The earliest phase of iPhone and iPod Touch. When these were introduced, the operating system was referred to as iPhone OS.
2007-2009 | 30-pin Dock | Headphone+Mic | Built-in Mic | |
---|---|---|---|---|
2007 | iPhone | ? | ? | ? |
2008 | iPhone 3 | |||
2009 | iPhone 3GS | |||
2007 | iPod Touch* | ? | ? | ? |
2008 | iPod Touch 2G* | |||
2009 | iPod Touch 3G | ? |
Important note: If you have the original iPod Touch or the iPod Touch 2G, the only way you can get audio into your device is using a 30-pin microphone. Every other device has more than one option.
Not sure which device you have? Apple has detailed guides to identify your iPhone, iPod, iPad.
2007-2009 | 30-pin Dock | Headphone+Mic | Built-in Mic | |||
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
2007 | iPhone | ? | Blue Mikey for iPod |
? | Plug-in Mics | ? |
2008 | iPhone 3 | |||||
2009 | iPhone 3GS | |||||
2007 | iPod Touch | ? | ? | ? | ||
2008 | iPod Touch 2G | |||||
2009 | iPod Touch 3G | ? | See Plug-in Mics, above |
*This microphone is also compatible with iPods that pre-date the iOS era. It will work with the iPod nano (2nd, 3D, 4th and 5th generation), the iPod classic, and the iPod (5th generation)
With the introduction of iPad, the iPhone OS became the iOS.
2010 ¡ª early 2012 | 30-pin Dock | Headphone + Mic | Built-in Mic | |
---|---|---|---|---|
2010 | iPhone4 | ? | ? | ? |
2011 | iPhone 4 (Verizon) | |||
2012 | iPhone 4S | |||
2010-2012 | iPod Touch 4G | ? | ? | ? |
2010 | iPad | ? | ? | ? |
2011 | iPad 2 | |||
2012 | iPad 3 (retina) |
These microphones are compatible with the iPhone, iPod Touch and iPad models shown above.
2010 ¡ª early 2012 | 30-pin Dock | Headphone+Mic | Built-in Mic | |||
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
2010 | iPhone4 | ? | ? |
Plug-in Mics: |
? | |
2011 | iPhone 4 (Verizon) | |||||
2012 | iPhone 4S | |||||
2010-2012 | iPod Touch 4G | ? | ? | ? | ||
2010 | iPad | ? | ? | ? | ||
2011 | iPad 2 | |||||
2012 | iPad 3 (retina) |
Two microphones that plug into the Headphone+mic port.
The Edutige EIM-001 amplifies the audio signal, and the IK Multimedia iRig Mic Cast
includes a headphone port on the microphone capsule so that you can preview the audio before and/or during your recording.
These latest model-type of iOS devices were introduced in late 2012, and continue into 2013. The major change: After 10 years of the 30-pin dock, these have a smaller, slimmer port and plug: Lightning.
late 2012 (+2013) | Lightning Dock | Headphone+Mic | Built-in Mic | |
---|---|---|---|---|
iPhone 5 | ? | + 30-pin adapter | ? | ? |
iPhone 5s | ||||
iPhone 5c | ||||
iPod Touch 5G | ? | ? | ? | |
iPad 4th Gen | ? | ? | ? | |
iPad Air | ||||
iPad Mini | ||||
iPad Mini (Retina display) |
late 2012 (+2013) | Lightning Dock | Headphone+Mic | Built-in Mic | |||
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
iPhone 5 | ? | Lightning Mics. |
+ 30-pin adapter. Use a 30-pin adapter with these microphones: |
? | Plug-in Mics: |
? |
iPhone 5s | ||||||
iPhone 5c | ||||||
iPod Touch 5G | ? | ? | ? | |||
iPad 4th Gen | ? | ? | ? | |||
iPad Air | ||||||
iPad Mini | ||||||
iPad Mini (Retina display) |
Here, shown to scale, are the microphones with the iPad mini, iPad, and iPhone. Mics are both 30-pin plus adapter, and the kind that plugs into the Headphone+Mic port of the iOS devices.
Did you find this guide useful? Did it clarify anything for you? If you plan to purchase a microphone, please use my affiliate links to do so. You pay the same purchase price, and I receive a little monetary love as thanks for the hours and hours I spent compiling this guide. Win-win!
Equipment links in this entry are affiliate links. I have personally purchased and use the TASCAM iM2 and the Edutige EIM-001
. No one has paid me to recommend those products.
This site and this page are not affiliated in any way with Apple Inc. iPhone iPad, iPod Touch and iPad Mini and all other Apple product names are trademarks/registered trademarks of Apple Inc. All other company and product names are trademarks or registered trademarks of their respective companies.
]]>This technique may seem a tad geeky, but the end result is that you will be able to plug in your Android phone or tablet to your Mac and it will show up as a disk drive.
There are two settings items to configure in order to connect your older Android device to your Mac.
It sounds geekier than it really is. This is a setting that Android put in for you in case you were doing software development on an Android. You’re not, but you’ll take advantage of this back door entry to access your device from your Mac via USB.
The screen displays the Applications settings.
You have set up your Android so that it will act like a disk drive when you connect it by a USB cable.
Quick Recap. A short, all-text menu list to enable USB Debugging:
Home > Settings > Applications > Development > USB Debugging ?
Now, there’s one more setting to configure. It’s the Connect to PC setting.
Tap the Default connection type menu item.
A select dialog appears.
Quick Recap. A short, all-text menu list to set up Connect to PC:
Home > Settings > Connect to PC > Default Connection > Disk Drive ?
You’re ready to connect your Android to your Mac via USB.
(Here’s an alternate approach: If you want flexibility to decide what happens when you connect to your Mac, set the default to Charge only and tap the Ask me item. Today you charge your Android. Tomorrow you mount it as a disk drive. Your choice. In the moment. Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy.)
Plug the USB cable into both your Mac and the Android.
Your Android should appear on your Mac as a new disk drive (Probably named “NO NAME”). Here’s what it looks like on my Mac (running Snow Leopard, 10.6.8)
Locate the folder for the recording app you’ve used and copy your audio files from your Android device to your Mac.
Be sure to click the Eject icon to properly eject your Android device before disconnecting the USB cable.
Oops! Already plugged in your Android but you forgot to set the Connect to PC setting to Disk Drive? No problem! Here’s how to fix it.
Android version this. Android version that. Android 2. Or 3. or 4. How can you tell what version you’re running?
Here’s how.
]]>
I’ve written about this March 8 day before, in 2007 in a post “Why International Women’s Day is Hard.”
The kernel of the story is hard: Early that morning, my grandmother woke up. Fell. Pain. Broken hip. (this, some three months after falling and breaking her hip. The first time.) What we know comes from grandpa¡¯s phone call. She fell. Broke her hip. She¡¯s gone and by the time you get here, I¡¯ll be gone, too. Gunshot wounds. Police tape. News stories, and shock.
The new revelation came to me a few months after I wrote the above blog post. I re-read it again, and thought, My perspective on this has completely changed. (If you want to, go read it. I’ll wait.)
What has not changed:
He came from gun people. In the previous post, I mentioned this photo of him, with his shooting trophy. Here it is.
I also mentioned photos of the teenage boys with rifles and their deer. Here is that photo.
For good measure, here are some early family photo Christmas cards. In the family of four photo, I think that gun held by my uncle (boy on the right) is the one that Dad described in the interview I held with him right after I wrote the previous March 8 Events Day post.
When I went to see him in March 2007, we looked through a scrapbook that his Mom kept for him and his childhood events. It included some National Rifle Association Junior Diplomas for marksmanship. Dad described the gun, and its origin—it was Grandma’s gun, and it dates from the time before she came west and met and married my Grandpa.
Dad: We had firearms instruction at a very early age—well, I can recall standing up between my father’s knees, and firing a gun. And, we had a little Winchester 22 that, strangely enough, used to be my mother’s. It had a cut off stock, and it was something that boys could use easily. As a matter of fact, I still have that weapon—
Susan: oh really!
Dad: It’s a single shot 22, and it’s got about an 18 to 20 inch barrel—single shot, and it has a cut off stock. [he gestures with his hands, about 2 feet apart] That’s the length of the barrel—about like that. And the stock is about this much more on the end of it. And it was cut off to be shorter, for people of shorter stature.
Susan: now the stock—that’s the handle part?
Dad: That’s the part that you hold, that you grip. We both learned how to shoot with that. And see, it was—it was my mother’s weapon though. She had that when she went to the Savage School [for Physical Education], wherever that was in New York. [Grandma was at the Savage School for Physical Education in New York City from 1920-1921.]
I said that my Grandpa came from gun people. That hasn’t changed. What’s shifted slightly—and this is not that conversation that changed it all—is that Grandma had her own gun from the time before she met Grandpa. Together they in the American Southwest raised a family of gun people.
It happened early on Saturday morning. I didn’t hear about it until late Sunday afternoon, when I returned from a weekend away. A phone message—family emergency. Your father and I are in Tucson—call the phone at Grandma and Grandpa’s.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. (I hate phone messages with the words “family emergency.”)
Then phone call, with the specifics of the news. She fell. Broke her hip. Then Grandpa shot her and then shot himself. Before he did, Grandpa called his son, Dad’s brother (the one holding what I think is the Winchester rifle in the Christmas from the West card). Grandpa told him, She fell. broke her hip. She’s gone. By the time you get there, I’ll be gone, too.
Almost immediately upon hearing the news, and for years after, I wondered, Did Grandma have a say in her own death? The 2007 blog post ends with that question. Was this Grandpa’s unilateral decision? Was it? Was it?!
All of us—my parents, my brothers, my aunts, uncles, cousins—have lived with the impact of that early March 8 morning—each in our own way.
My way includes being there when Grandma fell in December, 3 months before. I was in town for a cousin’s wedding. We were nearly out the door. I watched as Grandma put on her last piece of jewelery (or was it her lipstick?). I turned and stepped toward the door. Ready to leave.
Thump—the sound of something hitting the floor, and I turned back in and saw Grandma, crumpled in the corner. I briefly wondered if the hem of the cloak flared out—as I turned to go out the door—did that throw her off balance? Reader, I was there. I was right there.
¡°Aspirin,¡± she said. She gulped it down, dry. And while she rested on the bed, waiting for the ambulance, she said, ¡°Just wait, this will be my fault.¡± He sat in the other room, at the table. 21 years have passed since that conversation, enough time that I don¡¯t know if she actually said the word ¡°he¡± in the ¡°this will be my fault¡± sentence. But the meaning was clear. Her husband will will consider this her fault.
Pain. Aspirin and recrimination. Dad and I went with her to the hospital in the ambulance.
Three months later, when the news of her second fall, and of the terrible finality of what happened after that, I went back to those moments when I was there when she fell. During that visit (the night before she fell), she confided to me a story or two about her husband. He cut down my trees—my beloved trees out back. For (as far as Grandma could tell) no good reason. Grandpa did stuff that hurt and angered my grandmother. And now, an evening later, she fell, and pointing her finger at me, she told me that this—her fall—would be tallied in some marital conflict spreadsheet as being her fault.
Pain. And silence.
There are things I was too in shock to ask about. I did not learn until after their bodies were underground where the wounds were (chest, not head).
I did not ask my dad or uncles, do you think she had a choice in the matter?
(I remember the sad, dull expression on Dad’s face when I arrived in Tucson. When I hugged him, he didn’t hug back, not much. His closed-off-ness did not invite that deepest, toughest question I had.)
I did not ask. For many reasons, I did not ask. I was there, before; I thought I knew. The attempts to talk about it (they lived and died in conflict) and an uncle’s comment (She said that she’d die by his gun). What’s there to ask? But also because an answer that confirmed that this was Grandpa’s unilateral act would be too painful to consider as words and meanings spoken out loud. It’s one thing to wonder, another thing to hear the words spoken out loud. Too. horrible. for. words.
And so, silence.
(If this is the first time you’re read this story, it’s shocking. I know, I know. When I tell this story in person, I’ve long been in the habit of bracing the person for the words that will follow. Because it’s shocking.)
I’ve lived with these events for over a quarter century now, over half my lifetime. The pain and shock has leeched out of it by the passages of time. Even so, over two decades later, I have a different way of looking at it.
In the summer of 2007, J, my Tucson-based cousin visited my parents. I went to the homestead, to see her, to see them.
J told me of conversations she had with our uncle. He told her some about the days between the two falls, early in the year of 1986. Grandma was recovering from the fall and the surgery. She was depressed by the pain and effort of recovery. When Uncle visited Grandma, she lamented the state she was in. How hard this all was.
She said something to this effect:
“This is too much. I don¡¯t know if I can take it. Would you get your gun and shoot me and end it all?”
He replied something like this: “Mom, I can’t do that.”
My cousin J told me this.
Grandma asked. She asked. The question I’ve had, the one I concluded the previous blog post with—“Because the day holds a question I will never know the answer to—was my grandmother¡¯s death of her own choosing?” That question now had an answer. Yes.
Talking with my cousin, 21 years after that day, I felt a deep shifting inside. It was like a late late aftershock to a major earthquake—but a reverse earthquake. Instead of two faults rubbing against each other and rupturing the ground, the ground shifting was like the ground zipped back together. The ground moves, but it heals.
I can imagine it. I picture it differently. Early in the morning of March 8, Grandma fell. Again. Again, dammit. This time she knew—knew—what she was in for. This. This sensation. This pain. I know what this is. I’ve broken my hip. I know this, oh no no no no no, I know what this is.
The sensation of physical pain coupled with the knowledge she’d gained over the last 3 months recovery. I know what the immediate future holds. Pain, immobility, recovery, travail.
So—this time, she asked. Lying on the floor in the hallway. After her husband came over to investigate the dawn disturbance. She asks him the question that she’d previously asked her son. “Oh Kit, I can’t take it any more.”
She makes the request, the awful request.
The cliche, overused, but utterly true: Shoot me and put me out of my misery. Only it’s not just misery for one, for her lying there on the floor, with a second broken hip. There is the choice for how to respond, and what will happen to him after that.
He—faced with this crisis. The question. The request.
If I agree to her request, I will be a murderer, even though she asked me to do this. Even though this is her wish. If I say yes and go through with it, this must the end for me, too.
A total realignment, that. In my mind. 20 years’ interpretation of a harrowing event: Gone. Changed. The way I saw it all those years was not right.
This new way of seeing the events brings relief. Compassion. Compassion for Grandpa, whom I’ve reviled in my mind. (It took 21 years for me to even look at it from his perspective at all. But I was still in the Before stage.) Yes, the conflict of their marriage is still there. But it accounts for the changes in my Grandma after that moment I witnessed, during a recovery that was hard—so hard to face, and too hard for her to go through a second time.
All this, thanks to my cousin J, who had a conversation with our uncle, who told of a conversation he had with his mother.
Afterward: How the word reached all of us. Plus, a recording technology rant.
Move forward a couple of years. It’s November, 2009. All the cousins, that is, all Grandma and Grandpa’s grandchildren were gathered in one place. It was the after-party right after my Dad’s memorial. I sat on the couch and talked with my cousin K. I told her about what I’d learned about Grandma and Grandpa. That conversation, the one that changed everything. I told K. It was news. Her expression changed—this newness sank in. Oh my. I don’t know if she had that same 2-decades-long unanswered question the same as mine— did Grandma have a say in her death?—but word of this “Please Shoot Me” “I can’t do that, Mom” conversation worked an instant and visible effect. Cousin K’s mouth dropped open. The muscles in her face shifted. Relaxed. Her mouth dropped open.
My response to this instant re-orientation? We don’t all know. Yet. And we are all here. Now.
That does it. We gotta get Uncle to tell this story. A quick consultation with his daughter (who, yes, knew of that conversation). Can you ask your dad to tell this story to everyone, since we’re all here now?
A little consultation, a little arranging, a big throat-clearing announcement to the room, and Uncle did. All of the grandchildren heard—and the great-grandchildren.
Everyone heard the essential bit about how she was between the falls. What she asked. Her state of mind. So when she fell again, it was a joint decision. Let the news sink in, cousins. If you’d wondered about that, as I had.
And I—I thought to record this moment. No surprise, there. We were collecting stories about my Dad. I’ll record this. Of course. the best thing ever to do. Let me interrupt this story about knowledge of a conversation changes things to indulge in a rant about how device usability and tired people (er, that would be me) are a bad combination.
I was using the Zoom Handy H2, a compact digital recorder that requires two button presses to begin recording.
Press once for “Recording standby mode”—the red light blinks to tell you standby! standby! Then press again to initiate the recording. The red light goes solid, and numbers start counting up your elapsed recording time.
Well, as my cousin made the announcement that Uncle would be telling this story, I whipped out the recorder, powered it up, and pressed the red record button. Blinky Blinky! Uncle talked. And I looked down at the recorder, as it blinked red “Hi! I’m here, I’m here!” and I mistakenly believed that I was capturing the story.
We all heard Uncle’s words with our own ears, but the recording? Fail.
I discovered this when I went to stop the recording, saw the light go solid, and realized Oh damn! I didn’t capture any of this. (That was the second recording fail that day. Same thing. Press record button once, and talk. Oops.)
Now, dear reader, was I tired? Yes. (I worked hard to produce the memorial program.) Was I confused because I have multiple recorders, some which work 1-press-to-record and others, like this, that required 2 button presses? Yes, again.
The owners of recorders that require only 1-button-press-to-record get more successful recordings, because the equipment designers took away one possible user-confusion-error. You know Murphy’s Law: if anything can go wrong, it will. If you take away that possibility for something to go wrong, you increase the chances for things to work right.
From that time on, I have I have insisted that if at all possible, work with a recorder or software that has 1-touch recording. You don’t want to be victim to equipment design usability confusion when you are recording the story of the conversation that changed everything—everything! It’s far too easy in the distraction of the moment, to think you’re doing everything right, and miss the recording because the device wants to you be a little more fiddly than you’d reasonably expect to be.
It’s not just me and my two bouts of brain fade immediately following my father’s memorial. When Zoom re-designed and introduced the upgraded version of the H2—the Zoom H2n Handy,* what did it have? 1-touch recording! When Zoom introduced the Zoom H1 Handy
,* what did it have? 1-touch recording. That’s why I was so stoked about it when it was announced, and when I got my own unit, I posted the whole unboxing magilla. Because it’s important that the equipment helps you to actually, you know, get the story.
And in this case, the story about the conversation, the one that changed 20 years-long understanding of my grandparents’ death, was not recorded due to a combination of user mental state and usability design.
The audio engineer in me consoles herself that the knowledge that all the grandchildren were present when Uncle R told us the background of his conversation with his mother between the two falls. Everyone who needed to hear this story heard it.
Here endeth the equipment usability rant. Thanks be to Murphy.
(*Yep. Affiliate links.)
Are there lessons to draw from this? Yes. I’ve mentioned the recording equipment one. I feel torn about totting out a list of “here are things you can learn from this”—lessons about pressing against internal barriers. Barriers where you keep silence, you do not ask questions, or examine your own assumptions. Though I understand the limitations I was operating under, and though at least one person in my family held the the knowledge about that conversation all this time, I wouldn’t ask my younger self to push past all my assumptions (and reasonable conclusions) about these events. I wouldn’t nudge my younger self to ask my uncle for more details. This stuff happens. Essential knowledge is not shared for whatever mysterious reasons. It took over two decades, but eventually that essential kernel was shared. I’m tremendously relieved to have heard it, but I am not going to try to fit it into a pat lessons-learned format.
I do have one small suggestion for what to do in an interview, when you’re talking to someone who recounts a shocking and horrific event. Ask, “How has your understanding of that event changed with time?” or “Do you see it differently at this point in your life than you did at the time?”
Finally, I have a question for you (please share in the comments).
Have you experienced a dramatic change in the way you understand an an event in your family?
]]>Is Automatic Speech Transcription HAL getting any closer to opening the Pod Bay Doors?
I conduct some tests using some speech-to-text tech I have on hand, and see how it stacks up against standard transcription. In this post: the test results, lessons learned, and best practices for each technique.
The current state of HAL 9000:
There are many devices, services and software that act like Hal: Siri on iOS, the Android Google Voice, or any number of corporate voice address systems that say ¡°speak your request and I¡¯ll get you to the right department.¡±
With my 3rd generation iPad (March 2012 Retina Display, running the iOS version 5.x), I use the Dictation feature to talk to my iPad and see the words appear, as text. (Apple on iOS Dictation: iPhone 4S, iPad 3rd generation) Yay! Talking to computers is now doable. Since I’m a fairly fast typist, I have never seen the need to buy dictation software. I’m happy to have something on hand to act as a test.
Note: The Dictation feature I describe on my iPad is also available on the latest MacOS operating system, too. Also, with iOS 6, the Dictate mode has been taken over by Siri. (I’m still waiting for Google to come out with Maps for the iPad before I update, though.)
I performed three different tests for transcription—two automatic using the iPad¡¯s Dictate feature, and one manual using ExpressScribe for the Mac. The two variations of ¡°automatic¡± speech-to-text methods were pitted against each other, then I tested the automatic victor against against the manual transcription method.
I¡¯ll describe each test and the results, and then afterwards discuss the setup for each method in more detail.
The Direct Transcribe audio steps: Put the iPad in Dictation mode. Play audio of interview.
The result? Pure comedy.
Here is the text transcribed using that method.
is this diversity is here is the war is so business. When she is a share it was. It is in Alabama. Going to the railroad telegraph later so BlackBerry Parmore that was a Burgessville still one were wanting to go to the limit is only one of boys that have a useful capabilities so he told us you telegraph Morse code and also the radio Morse code
ooookay. We happily found a new parlor game. It¡¯s better than Mad Libs, not as physically challenging as Twister. But oh my, is it ever entertaining! Useful? Sorry, Hal, you¡¯d better start singing Daisy, Daisy. (in super slow mo)
We can improve on our very funny Test 1 method, as long as a thinking human helps interpret the interview audio and speaks it to Dictate mode slowly, comma, clearly, comma, and includes the punctuation.
The method is similar. Play a bit of audio interview, stop, put the iPad in dictation mode. Repeat the words in the audio, stop dictation. Keep repeating until you¡¯ve re-dictated all the audio recording.
The results of my test:
first the telegraph Morse code when I was 10 years old. My father wanted his sons to have some useful skill and so he was ¡ª he’d grown up in Alabama, and he had gone into the railroad as a telegraph operator. And so back during that time, why, that was a useful skill where one could earn a living. And so he wanted his boys have a useful capability so he taught us the telegraph Morse code and also the radio Morse code.
Oh! So that is what he was saying!! Well, bust my buttons! Why didn¡¯t you say so in the first place?*
The result of Tests 1 and 2: The Listen, Repeat it in Dictate mode method of transcription won. That’s the way to do it.
This listen-and-then-parrot technique is what Nuance (makers of Dragon Naturally Speaking, Dragon Dictate) recommend for transcribing.
I agree with them. Because BlackBerry Parmore that was a Burgessville said so. Really.
Now that we¡¯ve got a working method to use iPad HAL to take dictation, how does the automatic Listen and repeat to Dictate It Mode stack up against standard transcription while typing?
Here is how I conducted the test. I divided 20 minutes of audio into two 10-minute clips. I transcribed one using the semi-automatic iPad Dictate method Listen, Repeat it in Dictate Mode. How long did it take to transcribe 10-minutes¡¯ worth of audio? 44 minutes.
I transcribed the other 10-minute clip using ExpressScribe. (ExpressScribe is a cross-platform software application that comes with a free and paid version. The free version does all you need to transcribe audio. The Pro Version supports many more audio formats and offers support for video formats, too. The Pro Version is geared to accommodate the needs of a business or institutional workflow where multiple people send audio documents to a transcription pool of workers. You don¡¯t need to go there.)
In ExpressScribe, I loaded up the 10-minute audio clip. I set up the software to make for good transcribing conditions. (See next section for particulars of my setup). I opened up a word processing application, and created a new document. Pressed the handy-dandy hot-key that would begin a special form of playback (play a bit, pause, then resume playback from near the end of the previous playback snippet), and began typing. How long did it take me to transcribe 10 minutes¡¯ worth of audio? 27 minutes.
(Note: I¡¯m a fairly fast touch-typist. Using the 1 minute test at typingtest.com, I type 83 words per minute.) If you type by hunting-and-pecking, or your touch-typing speed is slow to medium, your results will vary from mine.
Method | Audio duration | Time to Transcribe |
---|---|---|
Listen, Repeat it in dictate mode | 10 minutes | 44 minutes |
ExpressScribe Play with Pausing manual typing (80+ wpm) | 10 minutes | 27 minutes |
(By the way, it always takes longer to transcribe a portion of audio than it took to record that audio in the first place. Professional transcriptionists say that for each hour of audio, it will take 4-6 times as long to transcribe. The time mentioned here does not include going back and re-listening to the recording to catch errors.)
Now that I¡¯ve tested this method, whenever I need to transcribe something, I will definitely use ExpressScribe.
That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ll never use the iPad¡¯s Listen, Repeat it in Dictate mode. Dictate mode is a good fallback when I¡¯m away from my computer but near an internet connection (Dictate mode requires a net connection). It works best when transcribing audio that’s on a device other than the iPad itself (such as a portable recorder or my LiveScribe pen). Switching back and forth between two iPad apps (for playback and dictation) would drive me bonkers.
This technique is described for an iOS device that has the Dictation feature. (Never set up the iPad or iPhone¡¯s Dictate App? Go to settings > General > Keyboard (scroll down for it) then switch on Dictation.)
(If you’re on a Mac using the Mac OS X Mountain Lion (10.8), you also have Dictate capability on your computer.)
You need to have some sort of text-typing app. There’s the default Notes app. In my case, however, I use the Plaintext app.
When you dictate, speak punctuation out loud (after all, when you type, you type punctuation).
Make friends with period, comma, new line, new paragraph, colon, em-dash (that’s a long dash—often used to punctuate spoken word), dot-dot-dot, open parens, close parens, open quote, close quote. Here’s a complete list of punctuation shortcuts.
An example: What I said while dictating:
She said comma open-quote Be glad period close quote
The transcribed result:
She said, ¡°Be glad.¡±
ExpressScribe allows you to play back audio and type what you hear. The two most important settings I used were adjustment of the playback speed to about 80% (because it’s easier to type all the words when the words are played slower), and a magic play audio command, Play (with Pausing).
ExpressScribe’s Play (with Pausing) command, located in the Control menu, plays about 5 seconds of audio, pauses, then loops back and catches a bit of what went before. It¡¯s perfect for transcription.
This conceptual illustration shows what that style of playback is like. (I’m using screenshots from another audio software application, Audacity, to illustrate it. ExpressScribe does not look like what you see right here.)
When I type along, I generally have no problem with the first portion of audio, but if I miss anything, it’s at the end of that snippet. When playback pauses, I can catch up on my typing, and when it loops back a bit, I catch what I just missed. It’s very excellent; it just works.
Still, I had to get it set up for the right amount of skip back time. In the Preferences (Mac) or Options (Windows), I went to the Playback pane and set the Auto Backstep on Stop (ms) to 500 ms—milliseconds. 1000ms is a full second, 500ms is a half-second. 500 milliseconds works for me; start there and adjust it higher or lower if you need to.
I also made a hot key that I could tap to invoke playback using the Play (With Pausing) command.
I adjusted the playback speed to approximately 80%. (I have noticed that I can vary the speed faster or slower by a few percentage points depending on the speed of the speaker. For instance, transcribing my Mother, I play back at 80%, and my father¡¯s speech cadence is a tad slower, so I play back at 83%)
The free version of ExpressScribe supports a limited number of audio file formats—WAV, AIFF, MP3, DCT (a dictation format), and WMA. Be sure that your audio file is saved in one of those formats. (I usually work with AIFF or WAV files.)
Once you have ExpressScribe set up just so, you will be able to type the words and not reach for hot keys to manually skip back or pause or skip forward.
I described the tech and software I had on hand to get speech into text form. I know that the iPad’s Dictate (or Siri) is not the only automatic way for dictation.
I have not yet tested the Android speech-to-text functions that rely on Google Voice. Yet.
In the desktop computer world, the big player for software dictation is Nuance, with its Dragon suite of software products. The newest Mac version of Dragon Dictate works only on the latest MacOS; Nuance does not sell it on their site. You can get the current and older versions at Amazon and other retailers. (affiliate links)
I know that there are many ways to get speech to text. I’ve described my experience. Do you use a different technique? Different software? Different devices? I’m all ears! Please describe it in the comments.
]]>If you see gremlins and weird behavior, I’d love to know about it. Otherwise, please stand by. I’ll be checking things over some more, and performance should improve.
Of course, now that a lotta good stuff happened under the hood, it’s possible to make some pretty changes to how things look on the outside.
]]>If you’re already familiar with any of the preliminary steps, such as how to locate and download census information, feel free to skip forward.
Here are the major topics covered in this post:
Finding the Census forms
Downloading the working with the Census documents
(A Mac OS X trick for working with Census docs)
Audio Equipment Set Up
The Interview Begins
How two little boxes [Yes] [No] brought out so much
More topics covered
Transferring Audio afterwards (iPad tricks)
Lessons Learned
Embrace Tangents
On April 2, 2012 the day the 1940 census was released and National Archives servers crashed, I wasn’t one of the people hunting for my people on the National Archives 1940 Census site. Nope. My new retina-display iPad arrived and I was wading through Apple’s lengthy terms of service agreements so I could start figuring out how to use the iPad as an audio recording device.
Yes, 1940 Census, I see you. But you’ve waited 70 years, you’re going to have to wait a little longer. For me. Color me contrarian. But I’ve got an end-of-week visit to see Mama and the brother and his daughters who’ve come to town. I need to have this iPad all checked out and tested before I go down there. We can download the 1940 Census info when I’m there.
Here’s what transpired:
Friday Day: Visit with Mom, Brother, nieces. Walk to the Park. Play on playground. Decorate Easter Eggs.
Friday Night: On Homestead computer, I surfed to the 1940 census site at the National Archives website— http://1940census.archives.gov/
Since I knew my mother’s address, I used the first option, Do You know the location where the person lived?, and entered the information. Where it asked for a cross street, I could supply that, too, thanks to the “Hey Mom, what was your cross street?” method of information gathering.
I browsed through the pages until I found the one where her family was listed. “Mom, come here and look at this! Here you are.” She was 7 years old at the time of the census. She came into the room and looked over my shoulder. I clicked the Add Bookmark link at the top of the page.
What struck me then was the listing of the other GE Engineers on the same census page. I’ve always thought of Schenectady as a “Company Town”—here I saw just how much of a company town it was.
Naturally, I had to share this with Facebook friends. (Facebook screenshots are edited; some comments removed; commenters made anonymous. Privacy, for the win!)
Then I opened a new browser tab and went on a hunt for my Dad. Once I found Dad, the 1940 Census Hunt and Oral History pretty much ended for the night.
Saturday morning: Once my brother and nieces left, I was back on the 1940 Census hunt again. I downloaded the entire set of images for her neighborhood’s Enumeration District (ED).
The 42 pages of high resolution files came in a 152 MB zipped file. Unzipped, there was a folder containing 42 JPEG image files, around 3.6 MB each.
I also downloaded the maps (1 Map, 4 pages). In Photoshop, I composited the four images of the Schenectady city map back into a single map.
After printing the map, I went outside where my mother was reading the Saturday paper.
“Mama, here’s the 1940 map of Schenectady.”
She pointed to locations and said, “that’s where we lived.” She took a crayon from the egg-decorating supplies, and marked locations on the map. Home. Elementary school.
I asked her which streets I should find information on. She told me. Then she added, “Make sure you get this street, because my best friend Nan A___ lived here.”
Pause. “And here’s where we played baseball—”
“Wait, Mama,” I interrupted. “Wait! I want to get this information when I am recording. I just gave you this map to ‘prime the pump.’ Hold those thoughts until we sit down and record.”
She said, “okay, then, I will go back to reading the paper.” She picked up the paper again, and I went back inside to continue gathering the right 1940 Census documents for our interview.
I surfed to Google Maps and printed out a current-day street map of the area. The current-day map would help me with my next step—deciding which of the 42 pages of census records to print out for Mama.
Here is a Mac OS trick. (I’m in the Leopard/Snow Leopard [10.5/10.6] phase of MacOS X; don’t ask me about Lion yet.) In Finder, when an image file is selected, tap the space bar in order to view the document (In the Finder’s menu, you can also invoke the command by File > Quick Look, or ⌘-Y). A window appears where you can preview the file (You can do the same thing for other file types, as well).
(click this—or any image—to enlarge)
You can use the arrow keys to quickly advance through them all and see which is which. I added comments for each one about what street was what, and changed the document’s label color to highlight the pages that were the likeliest candidates for printout. (To access the File Info window, go to File > Get Info or ⌘-I)
I changed the label color of the likeliest candidates to red or orange. I also changed the view settings so that I could read the comments I made. (To get your Finder Window to match mine exactly, Command-2 changes it to list view, and then Command-J gives you a dialog box where you can click the Show Comments checkbox)
(In View Options, you need to set Comments to be visible)
(click this—or any image—to enlarge)
If you download the high resolution image files—300 ppi—they can be printed on a Legal-sized sheet of legal at a magnification of roughly 50-60% size. I cropped off the supplemental info at the bottom, figuring that the info on the sheet number at the top of the page was the more essential piece of information to display on the printout.
I also adjusted the contrast in Photoshop. (I got rid of the pale gray background and made the sheets white, and made the ink black) You needn’t have Photoshop in order to adjust contrast—on the Mac, iPhoto allows you adjust contrast, and on Windows computers, you can make the same kind of basic adjustment in Picasa. Once the images were higher contrast I printed them out. I marked the sheet where her family was listed, and I found the listing for her best friend’s family who lived on the corner of the next block, and marked that one in yellow as well.
I ended up printing out some half-dozen sheets of census information or so. I wrote the street names in the margins so it would be easy to see which was what.
I set up the recorders at the dining table. Recorders? Plural Yes, dear reader, you could say that my setup was overkill.
Although I’d done a number of test recordings with the iPad, I hadn’t done a test recording of the “sit down for awhile and get so absorbed in the conversation that I forget about the recording device” variety. The previous day I recorded an audio test with my niece using one of the recording apps. I discovered that after the short time-out period after you’ve stopped touching the iPad screen, it goes dark and “locks up.” The app I was using stopped recording once it went into lock-up mode. Ruh roh, not good. If something like that happened during the interview with my mother, I didn’t want to lose the recording, so I used a second recorder. No wait, I’d gotten a new portable under-$99 recorder, and wanted to test that, too. So make that three (3!) recorders.
I set up my audio equipment—I am testing the iPad as a recording device—as well as a redundant audio recorder in case iPad does not work out. (See that stereo microphone attached to the iPad in these photos? That’s the TASCAM iM2 microphone]
—a mic that works with iPads, iPhones, iPod touches—in short, all iOS devices.)
(The other two recorders: The Zoom H1 Handy Recorder
—which I wrote about here; and the Tascam DR-08—this portable digital recorder comes in black and white
!—I’ll write more about it soon.)
Back to the iPad. Since I didn’t know how long the battery would last, and since the Tascam iM2 microphone has a side USB port that can accept a plug that’s plugged into the iPad’s power source, I used that method to keep the power go into to the iPad.
In the left side of the composite image, the (white) iPad power plug is plugged into a power strip (the black plug on the left is the power supply for the Zoom Handy H1). A USB cable runs from it to the Tascam iM2 microphone, shown at the right side of this dual image.
Although I’ve been testing lots of recording apps, the app I went with is called FiRe 2.0, the paid upgrade to the Blue FiRe. Here is a screenshot of the recording app in use. I like it tremendously.
(I will be writing about recording apps for the iPad and iOS devices in a separate post).
Also: here is an early report on the use of the USB plug in power for the iPad while recording: 60-cycle hum. I need to conduct a full and complete test, but there’s that buzz in the audio that I think is best explained by the power source.
Once all three recorders were set up, I called Mama to sit down at the table. I started all three recorders and recorded the slate. (“Today is Saturday, April 7, and I’m Susan Kitchens here in __________, California, with my Mother, _________ Kitchens. We’re looking at the printouts from the 1940 Census.”)
I did a fairly extensive introduction about the 1940 census, and stated the enumeration district number and the sheet number of the page Mama was looking at. Then I opened up the interview with this question:
“Is there anything that strikes you when you look at that?”
Look-at-the-form and tell me whatever comes to mind is open-ended questioning at its widest and most open. An open-ended question is a type of question that does not call for a yes-or-no answer. It elicits stories and explanations. Having my mother look at the census form and discuss anything that came to mind ensured that she’d speak from her memories and associations with what she saw there. This question strategy worked very well. The things that occurred to her were subjects that I could not have predicted would come from this census.
(Where did I get the idea to structure the interview this way? I don’t know. I stumbled on it, and it made the most sense to me. Too, maybe I’ve been influenced by the discussions that Henry Louis Gates Jr. has with the people appearing on his show, Finding Your Roots—he gives the person a book with documents in it, and asks them to look at the document and say what’s there and discuss their reaction to that document.)
The census sheet is similar to a photograph. It is a snapshot of that time and place. Instead of an image, it is data. It doesn’t capture a time and place from a single point of view (the camera) but is a data snapshot of the entire neighborhood.
It’s also a snapshot of the time. Spring, 1940:
Mama: “This is the April before we went out West to pick up my Grandfather Fogler and to see my Aunt Doris and Uncle Virgil in Boulder Creek in Big Timber Montana, which was my introduction to the Great West, and boy, did I love it.”
(over the course of the interview, we would visit that trip west.)
We discussed the data points on the form—professions and salaries (her father’s salary is left blank “He probably refused to give it”—though the although the encircled X for info supplier is next to her mother’s name, so she is the person in that household who was interviewed. I didn’t know at the time the significance of the X on the census form.) In addition, I pointed out that both of her parents’ birthplaces were erroneously listed as being in New York (Grandpa was born in Colorado, and Grandma was born in Massachusetts).
The next little data item she noticed led to a wealth of information. Mama saw the item asking whether the person had been in school in the week prior to the census being taken.
My mother, age 7 at the time, had (the box marked Yes), but her brother, age 10, had not (the box marked No). This sparked a recollection about why her brother wasn’t in school—he’d been ill with scarlet fever and was in the hospital.
That topic—childhood illness—and how it was treated in the year 1940, was a base from which Mama jumped to several related topics, covering a history of childhood illnesses that ran in the family:
Look at that list. That’s a lot of territory to cover based on two boxes on the form, one marked Yes and one marked No. They all sprang from associations based on I was in school but my brother was not as marked on the census form.
Other than Grandpa telling me of his own experience with the 1918 flu epidemic, and of his experience of schoolmates who died of diphtheria, I’d heard nothing of these illness topics—or prejudice vs. unfairness—before this interview began.
The interview took place in two two-hour sessions. The break between them was lengthy (Mom had an errand to run, and there was a meal to prepare and eat during the break). In the first session, the single sheet of the census page that her household was all that she looked at—and that not much. We did talk about a few people in the neighborhood.
After the sweeping epic of illnesses, we turned once more to the census sheet on which my mother was listed.
I asked her, “Are there any names that you recognize?”
She began to pore over the list of names and tell me what she remembered.
Once more we were off again through a series of associations that had nothing to do with the census sheet. But the stories, the family background was all worth capturing.
Only there, after nearly two hours, did we take a break from the first half of the interview. Whew!
We resumed later, and spent more time looking at the census. I have listened to (and marked up) the first part of the interview, but have not yet listened to the second half, so what I say here comes from memory. We probably spent about an hour in focused conversation about neighbors and the neighborhood which included topics like these:
The last half hour of the interview was probably more rambling than normal. (There’s topics that range all over, and then there’s what happens when two tiring people continue talking.) We stopped the interview and moved onto other things. Like dinner.
Even though I recorded the interview on multiple recorders, I also did a file copy of one of the recordings to the Homestead computer. I live by the LOCKSS method of data safety. Lots of Copies Keeps Stuff Safe.
I also used this as an opportunity to test how the iPad FiRe app allows you to transfer files from the iPad to the computer. I tried out two different methods offered by the app:
Browser Access
Files can be transferred inside the same WiFi network by turning the iPad into a (very) temporary web server. From the computer, open a browser and surf to the location indicated inside the same WiFi network.
Here are two views from the iPad inside of FiRe: First, enabling browser access (left) and checking out the web address.
Once I used the computer’s web browser to surf to that address and begin downloading the file, the iPad’s image changed to the file transfer mode shown on the right.
Sharing via iTunes is the second method I used to transfer the second audio file from the iPad to the Homestead computer.
First, I went to the sharing options for that recording and selected AIF as the file type (AIF and WAV are both uncompressed audio file types). I tapped the Share in iTunes button. The App displayed a similar slow-moving progress bar (as above, right) while it wrote out a 1.5GB audio file.
Before I connected the iPad to the computer, I made sure that it would not sync automatically and wipe out all my data.
Warning! If connecting an iPad to a computer other than your home-base syncing computer, as I was doing (this was the Homestead computer, not my main computer), it’s important to set the preferences for iTunes so that it won’t sync up. Go to iTunes preferences. Click the Devices icon. Uncheck the box that says Prevent iPods, iPhones, and iPads from syncing automatically.
Once I made that important change to my iTunes preferences, I connected the iPad to the computer.
In iTunes, I went to the iPad device, and the Apps pane. The top view shows all my apps and the appearance of my iPad. I scrolled down to the File Sharing area. On the left side, I clicked the icon for the FiRe app. The exported files shared through iTunes appeared on the right side. I selected the one I wished, clicked the Save… button at the bottom, and copied the file to the Homestead computer using that method.
Note: each of these audio files, being around 2 hours in length, were well over 1GB in size. The file transfer took a while to do.
Once I got home, I repeated the file transfer from the iPad to my own computer. I also connected the audio recorders and copied off the audio files from the Zoom Handy H1 and the Tascam DR-08. All audio files copied, and the next time my computer was backed up, all those files were backed up.
Here are some of the most important lessons to draw from in interviewing family members using the 1940 Census
If it’s possible, let the person have a printed copy of the census form to look at during the interview. You won’t stand in between the person and whatever memories or associations come to mind.
This is also a good thing if the person you’re interviewing is apt to be intimidated by the presence of recording equipment. It’s much easier to forget the presence of the recorder when looking at the pages of the census. (This is similar to interviewing using photo albums—the interviewee focuses on what’s right there in front, and doesn’t look at that intimidating recorder.)
If you are not able to give the person access to the census form (because, say, you are talking to a family member on the phone), be sure to make note of every little thing that might be worth comment, and mention it to the person you’re talking to.
(alternatively, if you can download the image and email it to them or to someone who can print it out for them, try that.)
I will be doing a phone interview based on the census a little later on. I’ll be interviewing my uncle—Mama’s brother, the one who had scarlet fever at 10. He’s got something else going on at the moment, so the interview will have to wait. Mama has called her brother and talked some of this through with him, already.
Now, my mother is a talker. She’s not afraid of sitting down with three recorders at the table. She’ll go on at length about any given topic and her mind leaps from one topic to the next in a string of associations.
I confess—sometimes this tendency of hers drives me bonkers (usually in a phone call when I wish to get one single piece of information that somehow must be teased out of a story that wanders all over). This interview felt the most successful to me in terms of how I felt inside myself while the interview was taking place. I was patient. Unhurried. I welcomed wherever the conversation went. My expectations about the interview were aligned with my mother’s style of speaking.
Do not look at the census and think that an interview about it will be a very linear collection of additional data points based on what’s in the census. If you expect that you can collect your relative’s memories with the systematic dispatch of a census worker going door to door, collecting memories of one neighbor after another (check, check, check), stop it. Just stop that thinking right now. You’ll need to nudge yourself away from linear checkbox expectations. Assume that your interview will need to fit the messy reality of the way memories become stored in tangles inside the human mind. You can sort things out later.
I’ll repeat good advice by Kim von Apsern-Parker from my interviewing series. She says,
If somebody starts talking to you about a story, don’t get so focused in on the fact that you’re trying to get Grandma’s birthdates that you don’t listen to the story that they’re telling you.
That advice applies here, too.
Listen, and let the memories and associations unfold.
Lots of copies keeps stuff safe. The stories are worth preserving, and the first step is to make sure that your files are in more than 1 location.
I’d love to read any of your stories of interviews or discussions you’ve conducted with family members over the 1940 Census.
Were any of the steps I described here helpful for you?
Please share in the comments.
No one paid me to write about the products mentioned here. If you purchase any through my affiliate links, you support my ongoing research into the tools and techniques of capturing family stories in digital audio formats.
]]>I had this IM conversation last week. A friend read the previous entry and said
Friend: “I didn’t realize Kodak was going out of business. That’s unbelievable.”
Susan: “I don’t think kodakgallery is on the chopping block…”
I said that because I’d read from the ending-of-digital-camera announcement that Kodak would be concentrating on their printing business. After all Kodak Gallery is a printing business, right? Upload photos, and get them printed. Alas, no. It looks as though Kodak will sell its Kodak Gallery site to Shutterfly. (The “printing business” is digital printers and inks) It’s a good thing I didn’t go in and update the post with my little theory about Kodak Gallery, because in a matter of day, I’d have to alter that again.
And now, just a couple of days after my previous post, I see at BoingBoing that other Kodak slide film—Ektachrome and Elite Chrome Extra Color—will also go away. Just like Kodachrome.
Speaking of Kodachrome, I found a lovely set of Kodachrome posts & 10-minute documentary about Kodachrome processing, and the end of Kodachrome.
Here’s the documentary (Sound comes in after a bit):
KODACHROME 2010 from Xander Robin on Vimeo.
Will you miss Kodak products?
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There are three ways to consider this transformation.
Most of the stories I’ve seen fit in this category . Wow. Kodak is no longer making digital cameras. Wow. Kodak is the company that invented the digital camera. The company has been around, like, forever. Look at that. Such a change. Wow. It just takes your breath away.
Over my lifetime, I’ve shot pictures with an Instamatic camera, and a Pocket Instamatic (using Kodak film, of course.) When I got a 35mm Single Lens Reflex, I kept using Kodak film—lots of Kodak film. When I took a photography class, I bought Kodak chemicals and photo paper. I got a Kodak slide carousel projector to view my travel snapshots and together with my mother’s carousel projector, I built a huge multimedia slide show of family pictures (one day I gotta write about that!)
Later, I got some of my slides scanned and converted to digital using Kodak Photo CD technology. These days I upload some select digital photos to KodakGallery.com and then go pick up photo-style prints at local neighborhood
An offshoot of the Wow. Just Wow. reaction to Kodak is the business story. How could the “Google of its day” grow so weak that it bleeds money and had to declare bankruptcy? And why did the Japanese counterpart, Fuji, end up thriving where Kodak did not? See The Economist for the biz analysis.
When Wow. Just Wow. meets the business story, how does that affect the family historian (Oral Historian, Personal Historian)?
There’s a saying, “When an old man dies, a library burns to the ground.” (The library of memories, experiences, wisdom—that’s the reason for this site, to preserve those memories and wisdom. To preserve the sound of his voice, the image of her as she talks.)
What happens when a company dies? If the company is the only one who holds the technology key to your data, then when the company dies, your library burns to the ground.
This exposed roll of kodachrome film is the analog chemical example of my library burning to the ground. I don’t know how long ago I shot this roll, but I will never get it developed. You can’t get Kodachrome slide film processed anymore—processing of Kodachrome ended in December, 2010. So this film roll is only good as an offering on my shrine to obsolete technology.
It’s too late to remember that day (or those days) in pictures.
This is why I strongly urge you to use commonly accepted and non-proprietary file standards with your digital memorabilia. Future generations will be able to access your data if the file format is in wide use. File format owned by a single company? Your data is tied to the fate of that company. I call that “Proprietary Jail”—it’s locked away, and you don’t have control over the key. A data standard shared by many companies and organizations? It will survive. Otherwise, when a single company goes away, it takes your data with it. Just like my roll of exposed Kodachrome.
It’s time to add “Remember Kodak?” to my list of interview questions.
I’ve been compiling a set of interview questions under the heading of “Inventions” or “Stuff in Everyday use.” The questions are, more or less, like this—What was your reaction when this new item became available? Did you use this? How did it work in your life? Or, if it was new, how did it change or affect your life?
Here’s my partial list of inventions:
Telephone, radio, television, record player, cassette, 8-track tape, CD, VCR (beta or VHS? my brother got us a beta system) Cable TV, TiVo and DVRs, cordless telephones, phone answering machine. The kind with the tape for the outgoing message, later replaced by the internal sound chip. And voicemail. You get the idea. Some of them are still in use, others have come and gone.
I didn’t even think about adding film cameras to that list. My bad, I overlooked it.
I think I had a blind spot. Sure, I rattled off my list of Kodak-based memories above. But I thought of the target generation—the people whose stories need preserving—as being older than me.
I thought that this image (below) represents my target generation…
... whereas, in reality, the target generation includes people like this (below):
When it comes to the use of the everyday technology of our lives, we are all elders. To drive the point home, here’s a movie about how different generations view records and the record player.
Author and blogger John Scalzi surprises his daughter Athena with a vinyl LP. It’s a hilarious and enlightening less-than-two minute documentary.
If you think Athena is faking her reaction, read John Scalzi’s blog post—and the comments.
Here are the questions I’m adding to my list of questions about everyday inventions.
The Kodak web site has a History of Kodak section. Check out the multimedia timeline of Kodak’s history. I got the 1970s advertising jingle “We’re America’s storyteller” from that movie.
Please enjoy the rest of the Kodakery images I hunted down for you.
About the images:
In the comments, tell about your own Kodak camera and film experience.
Or, tell about an experience when you realized that (gulp!) OMG, I am and elder!
]]>(Two notes—One about editing, one about timing.
Editing: These transcribed interviews are lightly edited for clarity and to remove a few spoken-word ums and things like that. There are also places in the interviews where I withhold information at the request of the person interviewed.
Timing: As I was working on this post, I came down with a baaaad case of wintery flu+bronchitis cough-a-palooza and took an unscheduled and unannounced break from posting here at Family Oral History. By the time I emerged from my haze of it all, I saw that Joan Miller’s taking a blogging break to heal from an illness. Get well, Joan.)
Joan Miller: I have two stories. My mother and my mother-in-law. My mother doesn’t want to answer any questions on tape because she might forget. It might not be right. It might be— she’s “forgetting it wrong” is what she says. So she clams up right away. She won’t tell any stories, yet she’ll tell lots of stories when there’s no recorder around. I have to get her past that so I can get the wonderful stories down.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: What have you been doing so far?
Joan Miller: Well, I actually told her about you, and how you use your recorder to record and you started with your grandfather and all that sort of stuff.
All I said was, “Could you tell some stories about when we went Guiding* (when I was 12 and we went to Guide Camps and those kinds of things)? Tell me about that.”
*Guiding—Girl Guides is the Canadian organization that’s equivalent to the American Girl Scouts and Scouting.
She’d just start, and she said, “You’re not recording this, are you?” Then she just stopped.
How do I get her past that?
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Have you, yet?
Joan Miller: I haven’t. I’ve only got one little story on tape, and that’s it.
I think Mom is worried. She’s thinking that she’s forgetting too.
(Someone close to Joan’s Mom has issues surrounding memory loss.)
Whereas my Mother-in-law’s attitude, on the other hand, anything that will help the family history, family genealogy, “I’ll tell you all the stories.” She remembers very well, and she has told me stories, and I’ve got things down. That’s a completely different experience.
So those are the two different aspects of coming from the two different mothers.
Joan Miller and I talk some more about her mother’s reticence to be recorded.
Joan Miller: What I do do is I blog our family stories, and I’ll say, “Mom, how do you remember that? Because you know, I was too little and I have my version of it, and I asked my sister…” and so on.
She’ll say, “Let me think about it.”
I’ll phone her later and say, “Do you remember that story about what we were talking about, the cream separator?” (Because we grew up on a ranch, you know, separating milk). And then she’ll start telling me the story, and I remember there was a million discs to wash—the separator has all these discs.”
She says, “Yeah, there were quite a few of them,” and then she’d go into more detail and she’d start telling me the story and สล็อตออนไลน์ ได้เงินจริงI could put it on the blog [her Cream Separator blog post], as long as I don’t have a recording of her saying that.
(We puzzle through possible reasons why Joan’s mother is afraid to be recorded.)
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: It’s the voice and it’s the immediacy. I’ve long since gotten over—or at least I’ve gotten comfortable with— what I sound like in conversation with all my sentences begun that are not finished and my particular wacky habits of speech. It is what it is.
Joan Miller: You are who you are and that’s how you sound. I think she might be worried that it’s going to be put out there on the internet or something, because I have a blog. I tell her, “This is just for our family history, just for my records, so we don’t lose the story.” And I think that might be another thing, too.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Do you have any vocal recordings of anybody in your common family—your ancestry—who have died?
Joan Miller: We have a videotape of my grandmother.
FOHUDT: That’s her mother?
JM: Mm hm, yep. Her mother.
FOHUDT: What is her response to that?
JM: Well, she thinks it’s really cool. [laughs] Yeah.
FOHUDT: “Yes, Mom.. and—?” (said with deliberate connect-the-dots tone of voice: It’s cool to have a recording of her voice, but not cool to record yours?)
Joan Miller: So that’s the challenge. Whereas my mother-in-law is very open to whatever.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: So you’ve a challenge, you got one that’s very open.
Did you have any experience of interviewing your mother-in-law where your reaction was like, Omigod, this worked really well, or I was surprised by this, or something that stands out as an interview experience you want to tell me about?
Joan Miller: Well, my mother-in-law is one of these natural storytellers. Because we were doing these interviews talking about her childhood or whatever, she and I are doing a book. We are going to do a book called The Aumack Resort—no, “Or So The Story Goes”—that’s the title. We’ve decided. Because she’s always saying that, “...Or so the story goes.” [laughter]
She grew up in a rural area in Saskatchewan, on this little lake. Her parents came from Michigan to homestead in Saskatchewan, and they started up a resort on the lake. They built these cabins and had these little rowboats, and had a human-sized checker set, and they had mini golf—this was back in the 30s before mini golf was everywhere. And she was telling me the story about growing up there.
I said, “You’ve got all these pictures, you’ve got all these stories, we gotta get this down.” So I wrote up a draft. I said, “We’re writing a book.”
She’s all, “This is a great idea.”
And because she’s been putting an album together of all these loose pictures, or whatever, I said, “We’re going to digitize them. And we’re going to put the stories down and here’s the draft.” When she was going to Saskatchewan, I said, “Take this draft with you—I made up a whole bunch of copies. Give it to all the relatives around there and see if we can get more pictures, more stories to include.”
She said, “I’ve always wanted to publish the recipes that they have from the resort.”
I said, “We can put those in the book.”
So that’s what came out of that interview.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Wow. It’s a book and it’s becomes a history of that place.
Joan Miller: Yeah. It’ll be not just our family who’s interested in it. It’ll be all these people that came to the resort, and their families. She even remembers some of the names of the people that used to come—the doctor that used to rent the cabin over there, you know, all that kind of stuff. I thought that was amazing.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Yeah. That is excellent. That is totally excellent.
Joan Miller: I said, “It doesn’t have to be perfect, we’ll do it in a digital format. We can change it, update it, whatever.” We’ll put it on Lulu.com or something. Or Amazon. Probably Lulu.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: That sounds great!
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: What was it like working with the equipment? Did you have any hiccups, learning curves, anything?
Joan Miller: Well, one time I thought I would push record, and didn’t. You know, a stupid thing. Um, but it’s been pretty good. And this little recorder, it has to be fairly close, you know, sort of between the two people.
FOHUDT: And it’s small enough—where it—
Joan Miller: Yeah, it’s not intrusive.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Neither is this [the livescribe pen I used for this interview].
JM: I like that.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Yeah, this is where the sound is coming in, the sound is being recorded in the headphones there.
Joan Miller: I saw one of those advertised in the Skymall magazine on the airplane—but not as good as that one.
FOHUDT: This—is actually a few years old. Livescribe has come out with some newer models.
Joan Miller: What kind is that?
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: It’s a Livescribe pulse pen. It’s the old 2 gigabyte Pulse Smartpen—I got it when the 2 gig version was the top of the line (back in 2008). They’ve got pens with more storage space—4 GB Echo Smartpen
and 8 gigabyte Echo Smartpen
. And an entire revamped model. When you use it, it comes across to others as “oh I’m just taking notes.”
(Links to pens are affiliate links.)
Joan Miller: What about the issue of recording people without them knowing?
FOHUDT: How do I feel about that? [Sigh.] I don’t like that.
JM: I don’t like that, either.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: I’ve been hanging around enough with oral historians where there is an ethical standard for this. You ask permission. I did have an interview earlier today with somebody who didn’t let the person know first that they were recording, but then said afterwards,
“Because these are important stories to me, I recorded it.”
“Oh, Okay.”—that was the response. So there was disclosure later, after the fact.
Joan Miller: It was kind of like they tricked them, though.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: And so, um, and yet there is that fear of the equipment. I mean, it may be that you say to your Mom, “Look, look, go ahead and do this. And you know, it’s digital whatever, I can delete it right afterwards if you feel like after the end of this—”
Joan Miller: That’s a good idea.
“That it didn’t work. I can delete it.”
FOHUDT: And so you give her an out, and you give her an experience—“How was it?” “It wasn’t so bad.” Or: “Sure, you told me, and you went and corrected yourself. If you’re listening to that one sentence, maybe it doesn’t make sense, but in the course of the whole recording you clarified it.”
JM: That’s a good idea—give her that sense… “Let’s listen to it…”
FOHUDT: Let’s listen to it.
JM: She might be self-conscious about hearing herself or something like that.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: She doesn’t have to listen to it. But it’s more like “Let’s have this conversation, and tentatively we’ll record it, and at the end of it, you tell me how you feel, and if you want me to erase it, I will.” And you just hope it wasn’t as bad as she feared.
Joan Miller: We’re going to spend a week with her in July—a long weekend. We’re celebrating her 80th birthday. We rented a place at the lake. So there’s going to be family all around. There’s going to be stories. I’m printing out this huge family tree banner. Lots of cousins coming and stuff. And I’m thinking the stories will come out. After the main weekend, a bunch of people will leave. And then there’ll be the core of us for a week. So, maybe then I’ll tape them all.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Maybe depending who’s there, or whatever, if you have somebody get up and say, “I’m going to tell you a story,” where you hear someone else talking—and you know we’re just telling stories.
Joan Miller: It will be around the campfire. We can do that. My sister has a phenomenal memory for trivia. She remembers the little things that we were doing when we were kids. And so she is a good prompter for that kind of stuff. What did we do then? How did we do that? or whatever. I’m thinking that’d be a good time.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Please keep me informed what happens with your Mom. Because that—I mean, I come from extroverts and exhibitionist kind of people—where it’s like, “Oh yeah, sure, you want me to do this? Yeah!” you know, it’s like the first time I came here to Jamboree I had a little booth here and my Mom shows up and I did an interview demo, you know, I’ll show you how it’s done, blah blah blah—she rises to the occasion, she’s a docent. So, when it comes to a situation like yours, I don’t have that experience of that reticence. And yet, people might want to know, “well, you do all this interview stuff, so what do I do if—?” “Well, I’ll tell you what some other people have done”—and that’s why I’m collecting these.
Joan Miller: And then another story is my friend—I think I told you about my friend who’s got lung cancer. I sort of broached it once about collecting her stories because she’s terminal and she was not really receptive. But that was a few months ago. So I’m going to try again. Right now she’s going off to China—she’s Chinese—for some more treatment I guess. And she’s doing Chi Gong. I’ve even taking her to Chi Gong. I want to record her growing up in China, those kind of stories. Because when she’s gone ... they’re going to love having that.
FOHUDT: Does she have children?
Joan Miller: She does.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: There was something I heard about. And it may be difficult, but, to say, “I just want to get a recording of your voice reading a story to your kids that you read to them. So that they can have this—so this is something that they can have the sound of.” Because it’s a start, an easy way in. And this is what I heard about among some—in the Association of Personal Historians. Sometimes these things where you’re dealing with hospice care kidna stuff or terminal end of life. It’s not the big huge story of your life. It’s like the person thinks, “Oh yeah, I could do that.”
Joan Miller: That’s a good idea.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Yeah, read a story to your kids. Can’t remember where it was that I saw that. (Note: Here is the original article, which came to my attention via an email on the Association of Personal Historians mailing list)
The first thing you do is say, here’s a story, here’s a recording, just have this recording for your kids. And if that gets her in this reflective mood where something happens afterwards, where she says, “well, you know, because I want to make sure that my boys know—it’s boys, sons right? I want to make sure that my boys know blah blah blah blah blah. and the recorder’s going.
Joan Miller: Especially when she’s going to be coming back from China, and we’ll get together with you when she’s back and then so all these things in China will remind her of so many things that she can tell me. So. Yes.
It’s an awful disease, lung cancer. It sends out little tumors everywhere in the body.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Well, good for you for doing your part on one front.
Joan Miller: Any other questions?
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Well, one of the questions that I was thinking of asking and I don’t know if you’ve already answered this—like has there been any sort of like disaster fiasco or something like that or just you know just you know, ooops.
Joan Miller: Nope, I haven’t got that much experience with it yet. It will happen, I’m sure, other than that one time where I didn’t record. But I caught it later.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Okay, I think that’s it. But again, keep me informed what goes on with your mother.
Joan Miller: Especially with this 80th birthday…
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Probably you will get stories from other people there.
Joan Miller: What I might do is like if we’re sitting around the campfire with my brother and my sister and everybody’s talking about growing up and whatever, and I could tell them I’m recording. I could tell everybody that I’m recording. But get them to lead the story, so Mom doesn’t have to speak all the time, she can just interject with her thoughts. “I remember this way” or whatever.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: You get the social interactions where, in a situation like that, the recorder is going to really be diminished in power in her eyes.
Joan Miller: Yeah. And everybody has a different perspective on the events. That could be a very valuable recording just itself to get my brother and sister to talk….
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: yeah. My boyfriend—I sat down with his Mom and did a short recording, maybe 40 minutes. And um she later had increasingly—her dementia got worse and worse, and she died. And then I was helping my boyfriend write a eulogy for her memorial. And I said, You want to listen to this recording? And he was like, you know we fortified with wine ahead of time, like what’s this going to be like. He goes, “Susan, I’m so glad you did this.” So having that kind of experience myself with my grandpa, and this experience in with my boyfriend and his mom, um,—”
Joan Miller: It’s important
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: I hope you can do that.
Joan Miller: One regret that I had is that I never got my father on any kind of recording or whatever.
On her blog, Joan Miller describes that discusses the results of this and other conversations as she describes the family gathering for her mother’s 80th birthday. The outcome was successful!
We were celebrating Mom’s 80th birthday at the lake. I was emcee and one of the games we played was the “Memories Game”. This game came to me in the one of the middle of the night brain waves. It was a true experiment because I wanted to use the recorder, something I hadn’t done in a large group setting before. I primed most of the family members in attendance ahead of time so they could think about their memories and be prepared.
How it worked
We went around the group one by one and I asked everyone to give a memory they had of the birthday girl, perhaps from her childhood or as a Mom, Grandma, aunt or sister. I also asked if people were okay with passing a recorder around while we were doing this. We were to pretend the recorder was a microphone; the individual was to give us their memory then hand the recorder to the next person. Whom ever had the recorder had the floor.
The Memories Game was wildly successful. [Read the entire post]
She also picked up a Livescribe pen and described what it was like to work with it, in her second post about the 80th birthday party.
Joan and I didn’t just talk about her family interview circumstances. We also had some fitness fun at Jamboree. She’s more athletic than I am, but since I was just starting a fitness program in which I was doing planks, she joined me. Her form is better.
Photo credits:
Girl Guides magazine. Creative Commons photo by Ron Hollins
Fireworks at Meeting Lake, Saskachewan: Creative Commons photo by Jeff/Space Ritual.
Planking at Jamboree: Photo by Cheryl Palmer of Heritage Happens
Other photos courtesy Joan Miller, Luxegen
I talk to genealogists at So Cal Genealogical Society Jamboree about their experiences interviewing family. Other posts in this series:
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I started with Beth Lamie’s idea, Draw From A Hat. Put a set of questions in a hat and draw one out and ask. Repeat. That was the inspiration: That, and “Get the kids involved.”
But of course, somebody has to think up the questions that get placed into the hat. I focused on this with my nieces—two girls, aged 9 (nearly 10) and 4. Let them be the ones to come up with questions for everyone.
I arrived at their house, got them to step away from the computer and the Tee vee (sigh. yes. true.) with an aunt-ish scheme: Think of some questions to ask people at the dinner table. Instead of generic questions that would apply to anybody, I decided to get as specific as possible. What question do you want to ask your Dad? Your Mom? Grandma? Uncle J? Uncle T? Aunt Susan?
Aunt Susan: Okay, girls, after dinner, let’s ask everyone questions about themselves and record the answers. Okay? Okay. So the first thing we do is think of questions to ask people. Can you think of questions to ask people?
Nearly 10: What kind of questions?
Aunt Susan: Well, there’s one question I’d like to ask your Mama (who is from Panama). And that is, What was her first Thanksgiving like? You’ve been having Thanksgivings all your life. It’s an American tradition. But your Mama didn’t grow up in America. So she probably remembers her first one because she had it as an adult.
Nearly 10: (eyes wide) Ooh!
(some dawning comprehension lit upon her face.)
Aunt Susan: So what questions would you like to ask?
Nearly 10: Oh, I could ask Dad about what inspired him to be a surfer!
Aunt Susan: Exactly! Good question. Let’s write it down. You want to write it, or shall I?
She did. Once she thought of a new question, Nearly 10 wrote it down in her notebook. Nearly 10 wrote them down.
Younger Sister (age 4), also came up with a couple of questions.
Younger Sister: I want to know what Mommy’s favorite plant is! (Their mother loves gardening)
I had a slight challenge right there.
Aunt Susan: Is there another way to ask that question about plants? “What is your favorite plant” will get a very short answer—the name of one plant. How about thinking of a question that’ll get a longer answer?
With a little coaching, she settled on: “How did you become a gardener?”
We went through the same process with her other question—“Did you play hide-and-go-seek?” (A question that asks for a YES or NO answer) became “What games did you play when you were a kid?”
Alternatively, I might have kept the original question and had them ask a follow-up question.
I pulled out a bunch of 3 x 5 cards. Nearly 10 wrote 1 question per card.
Some examples:
Once the questions were ready, it was time to get the equipment in place.
Recorder (with a built-in microphone): check!
Enough free space on the memory card: check!
(a 4 gb card, I made sure that there was at least 2 gigabytes of free space. That would give us plenty—more than 3 hours recording time).
Headphones to monitor the recording quality: check!
New batteries for recorder: check!
Backup power, (first, the power adapter that plugs into an outlet and an extension cord to bring power right to where the recorder was located): check!
And… The stack of cards with the questions.
Everything was ready and in place.
Thanksgiving conversation has distinct phases. The chatter of anticipation and “Go wash your hands, it’s ready, it’s ready” gave way to the round-robin “what I’m thankful for,” the blessing, the chit chat of taking of plates to the food line and the piling high thereof, the compliments uttered between initial bites, the shushed concentration of eating, the going back for seconds, and then finally, relaxed conversation.
Not too long into the relaxed conversation phase, I introduced our next activity. “Nearly 10 is going to ask you all questions and we’re going to record it.”
I powered up the recorder, and spoke an introduction. “It’s Thanksgiving 2010 and the Kitchens family is gathered here in Henderson, Nevada. Nearly 10 has some questions she’s going to ask and we’re recording what people say.”
Nearly 10 got her deck of cards with questions. She shuffled the cards. I said, for the benefit of those who could not see her, “She’s shuffling the cards.”
She said, “It can’t be right without the shuffle.” The she chose one and said, “Grandma, tell about a time—one of your first times sailing a boat.”
That launched Grandma (my Mom) into a story that went well into five minutes. We grownups were amused by what she said; it was our childhood she was talking about. She painted a vivid picture of some heavy seas, and some cantaloupe getting loose and being tossed around in the slop, and of one that broke, with cantaloupe seeds all over the cabin of the boat. Nearly 10, who was primed to ask her next question, twitched with frustration. She sighed and rolled her eyes.
She spent all that time thinking up questions, and didn’t anticipate how long it would take to answer them. I hadn’t anticipated that I’d need to tell her to expect to wait a long time in between asking questions. Oops.
I told her, “The point of these questions is to get people telling the stories that they otherwise wouldn’t tell. It’s okay.”
The session continued for an hour. She asked some more questions (including Younger Sister’s question about gardening). When appropriate, I moved the position of the recorder so it would sit near the person talking. (I did that before they began talking, so any microphone-handling noise would not mask actual storytelling.)
The recorder picked up multiple simultaneous conversations around the table. This was not your sit down one-on-one type of recorded interview. The recording contains side conversations (some whispered, some out loud), background noise of table clearing and questions about the pot of whatever on the back burner with the flame on, interruptions, follow-up questions, and more. It’s a thing of beauty. An hour’s worth of question and answer, where each person had a chance to tell one story, and each of us heard and learned new things about people we’ve known for all our lives.
There was one guest to this gathering who was not a family member, per se. considered family. She was asked a question, and she answered, but that exchange was not recorded. We had the hear something about you in the moment, but it didn’t become part of the record.
Observations about this approach
Thinking on last year’s event (and listening to the recording), there are some things I would do differently.
“You know what? You’ve thought up a bunch of really good questions to ask people. That’s excellent. But there’s more to this than pulling a card out and asking someone a question, getting a short answer and then asking the next one. The whole point is to get other people to talk and to tell stories. After you ask a question, the other person is going to talk. Maybe even for what seems like a long time. If someone talks for a long time telling a story, that’s how you know that you’ve thought up a good question.”
This week, I’d like to try a repeat of what we did last year. We have opportunities and challenges.
Opportunities
In addition to the usual suspects (Mom, brothers, hosting brother and his wife and children), we will have more people at this year’s gathering:
More people around the table means more stories! Different stories from different people.
Those who were there from last year will have a sense of how this goes (oh yeah, I remember that from last year—We take turns answering questions).
This is a good way to introduce the Panamanian grandparents to sharing their stories through oral history. I don’t think they’ve been interviewed before. I do recall recording individual stories by friends and family members for Nephew A’s wedding, but his grandparents weren’t in the States for it.
Challenges
The kids that will help gather questions are older—three of the four are in the 9-12 year-old range.
Here, I brainstorm ways to involve them:
For the “ask anyone” kind, draw names of all the people present to make it random. (Oh wait, maybe this is too complicated. But hey, it can be crazy fun complicated, too)
What about you? Do you have any plans for gathering stories from family members at Thanksgiving or for the National Day of Listening?
UPDATE: Monday, 28 November, 2011. A great time was had by all. Arrived to learn that Nephew A did not, in fact, come for Thanksgiving. Other arrivals (Thursday was a travel day for two households) made it difficult to plan the interview with the kids. Back up plan: Let’s do this Friday. But oh, the numbers of people and the plans already in place and diverse directions they all went in made it too difficult to pull this together.
I had an incredibly marvelous time with family. Amazing. (Saturday morning at a frightfully early hour, we all gathered around the TV to watch the launch of Mars Curiosity Rover—my boyfriend worked on the landing radar system for the Mars Science Lab!) But recording interviews was not a part of the picture this year.
That’s a lesson in itself. Many people going in many directions makes it more difficult to do group activities. Come to think of it, last year’s gathering was “small” by our standards. 8 people. This year: 12 (plus: double the number of kids)
Kim von Aspern-Parker blogs at Le Maison Duchamp. Highlights of Part 1: For Dad to start talking, he had to be in an altered state. Using a genealogy chart to interview? Surprise! Advice for interviewing: remember to listen for the stories, don’t interrupt people, and work from photo albums.
In the first half, while Kim talked about her visit with her 90-year old aunt and the misunderstanding over the genealogy chart, she described putting her recorder out on the table with a bunch of other items (keys, phone, etc.), and interviewing her aunt, and letting her know after the fact. We revisit a bit of that conversation for this later section on disclosure and permissions.
Kim von Aspern-Parker: I said, “You know, all these stories you’re telling me. They’re all about our family, It’s not so much that they’re dead people but they’re our family.” And I said, “And I didn’t grow up in this family, so I don’t know these stories. So I’ve been taping them so I can have them.”
She said, “Oh, okay.”
She was okay with that.
A little later on, I mentioned a video I created. Which brought up the topic again:
Kim von Aspern-Parker: If you’re going to videotape [the interview], I think, too—or even tape record it it’s okay if they know it [beforehand], usually it’s better if you tell them afterwards. Because they tend to get uptight that they’re on camera or that they’re being taped.
If they say, “Oh, no no no I don’t want that taped,”
you can say, “Okay, nobody’s going to hear it but me, Mom.”
Or “It’s not okay for ME to have it? Really? You know how my memory is, Mom. Really? You want me not to have that?”
You can always erase it if they really are uncomfortable. Assure them of that.
FOHUDT: Have you—?
KvAP: I’ve never had anybody ask me to erase it.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: In your case, you’ve told them after the fact, and my family’s “I’m cool with doing this” when I ask beforehand. But I’m interested in the varieties of experience. Because I’m a member of the Oral History Association, where the whole idea of taping surreptitiously is a total “No no” ...for me…
[Here, Kim went in another direction, but I wish to finish my thought. I think that if you’re going to record an interview, you get permission ahead of time. This series is about finding out what it’s really like for people to interview family members. I’m collecting real-world information on what people tell their family members about the recording. I’ll revisit this issue at the conclusion of the series.]
Kim von Aspern-Parker: If it’s your family members and I fully say don’t record it and not let them know. They absolutely deserve to know that you’ve taped it.
I’ve only done that to my family members who, if I pull the recorder out, will say, “What are you doing? Put that away.”
I’ll record it. [Afterwards,] I’ll say, “Now, I recorded that. Is it okay? Cause you know, I just wanted the stories. I forget the stories.”
And they say, “yeah, okay, that’s fine.”
I found, too, that if you set up the video camera, if you’re interviewing somebody who’s not your family member, let’s say, because when I was interviewing for school, I used to have to interview people that were not family members, and of course you have to disclose right off the front: “I’m going to record this.”
If you set up the video camera and get it ready and then you just chit chat and talk and get things rolling, they forget that the camera’s there. You have to get them comfortable, first. Otherwise they tighten up and it’s like, “Did I say that right?” They’re worried about correctness and not stuttering and not saying “um” and not saying “you know” and all those things that you see in yourself when you’re practicing a speech or something.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: I don’t have experience videotaping people during an interview. I do all mine audio. And something like this (Livescribe pen, what I used to record this interview) is pretty unobtrusive.
Do you have any family interview disaster stories? Like Omigod it was a fiasco, or something close to a fiasco?
Kim von Aspern-Parker: The hardest interviews I’m still working on right now. I haven’t done very much of them. I started breaking ice.
It’s my aunt Filo, and she’s deaf and she’s 92. Her memory’s not all it used to be. And most of her life people have done things around her thinking she didn’t get it, because she’s deaf. So she’s always been a kind of the fly on the wall; people thought she didn’t know what was going on, brcause she’s deaf. But of course she reads lips perfectly. She’s not stupid. And a long time ago, people equated deafness with a mental illness, you know, they thought you were “touched.”
She’s got great stories. But I’m still getting her warmed up to the fact. I speak some sign language, and so I’m practicing my sign language so I can get it better so I can get it better and she’ll be more comfortable with me. I try to go see her at least a couple of times a year.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: How far of a distance is that?
Kim von Aspern-Parker: She’s in Louisiana, and I’m in California. So it’s not like I can talk to her on the phone. I can’t Skype her. So it’s a hard interview.
As far as a fiasco, it hasn’t crashed and burned yet. But it’s a hard interview because she’s deaf so everything’s in sign language. And she’ll talk, I had the photo album thing out and we were doing the photo album thing, and I said, “who are these people?” And she says, “That’s Dickie. That’s my brother. He’s dead.” I said, who’s this? “Oh, that’s my sister Audrey, that’s your Mama. She dead, too.” Because she’s 92, she’s outlived all of them. And so she can speak, for the most part, she signs some of it, but she speaks for the most part.
Because of her stilted speech, because she can’t hear—she lost her hearing when she was nine. So you’ve got this kind of stilted speech. She’s got great stories.
She was telling me stories about when she lost her hearing—she was really really sick—and supposedly it was an influenza epidemic. But my aunt- a different aunt—thinks it might’ve been a spinal meningitis thing that went around. My great grandmother died, And several people in the neighborhood died, and my aunt Filo lost her hearing. So when Aunt Filo woke up she wasn’t dead, but a lot of other people were. So she had been unconscious for a week, and when she woke up all these people were dead that she knew. And she was 9. And then because she was deaf, they basically sent her away to go to a school for the deaf. And so then she was ostracized from her family. So it was a very hard experience growing. And then her family started treating her like she was “touched”—she wasn’t all there. Mommy coddled her and Daddy felt she was defective, somehow. She’s going to have great stories to tell.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: yeah. But how to do that. Now is that one where because of sign language or whatever, you’ll say, videotape it because you may have more fluent sign and I’d like to get help with interpreting it, or looking it.
Kim von Aspern-Parker: Yeah, I probably will videotape it. I’m still in the ice-breaking stage. I’m doing just a recording of her. Because she does speak. Plus, I wanted to have her voice. She is 92, and should she pass away, I want to have that. This next trip is going to be videotaped. Because they’re getting up there in age.
And that’s probably my next bit of advice: Don’t put it off. If you have relatives that are anywhere over the age of 50, start interviewing them, because that’s when heart attacks happen. That’s when their dementia sets in, and things like that. Anytime after 50 and it starts going downhill. [laughter] I know.
FOHUDT: Scary.
KvAP: I’m 53
FOHUDT: I just had my 52nd birthday. Right.
KvAP: It’s starting to go down. Get my stories now.
FOHUDT: cool. Cool. Well [pause] is there any other thing you’d like to say about the experience?
KvAP: Of interviewing?
FOHUDT: yes.
Kim von Aspern-Parker: Well, it doesn’t hurt to go and take some classes on interviewing techniques which I know you can get through journalism schools and in junior colleges/community colleges; oral history programs.
I think that my state archives in California has an oral history program where they’ll teach you how to interview. Because it is a technique. You have to know how to lead the person into telling you their stories. And helping them when they stutter and they kinda go, “well, I don’t know what you’re looking for? What kind of story are you looking for, what do you want me to tell you?”
Once you get them talking, then it’s great. But a lot of people aren’t—I’m a chatterbox; I’ll talk to fence posts (laughs). The cows in the pasture, we have great conversations—
FOHUDT: Moo.
Kim von Aspern-Parker: Yeah (laughs) But as far as some people, they’ll sit there and they’re like, “What do you want me to tell you?” My mother was kind of like that. she was never really a storyteller.
It’s like, “I don’t know what you want me to say? I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
“Just tell me about when you were a kid. I mean, did you ever remember being sick? Were you ever sick when you were in school?” “not that I can remember.” She makes story dragging it out of her. And those are hard. And again, I think the photo albums help with that. I found that if you find yourself trying to draaaag a story out of somebody:
“Well, did you ever play a practical joke on anybody?”
“Oh, no, I was much too serious for that.”
“Okay. Did you have younger siblings?”
“Yes.”
“How many younger siblings do you have?”
When you have a drag it out story like that, when you’re dragging the information out of a person, I think that a photo album is the best technique that I’ve found.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: In your experience as an interviewer, where you are dragging something out, is there a shift in mental attitude , where you think, “how do I approach this?” ?
KvAP: You start kind of panicking as the interviewer. It’s kind of like, “Oh, this is going to be hard.”
Everybody has a button.
FOHUDT: So you recognize panic?
KvAP: Yeah. oh yeah.
FOHUDT: Do you stay in panic mode, or do you find—what happened with you after panic?
KvAP: Well, my usual first reaction is like, “Oh god, this is going to be hard; she’s not a chatterbox. What’ll I do?” Then I say to myself, “Okay, you have to find their button.” Everybody has a button—something they love to talk about.
With my mother, it was her children. It wasn’t her parents, or her life when she was growing up. She didn’t consider her self important, but her children were everything. My mother was talking about me and my sister. Like, “Why did you put me and Debbie into dancing lessons?” And then she’d talk about that. And that leads into talking about how she’d always wanted to do that as a child, but they lived during the Depression, they didn’t have that kind of money.
“You lived in the depression? Really? What was that like?” and “Where did you live during the depression?”
“I was in Texas.”
“Well, what was that like in Texas?” ... You see pictures of the dust bowl. So then if you can relate it to history, and say, “I’ve seen pictures of the dust bowl, was it like that in Texas?” And then she might start talking about that. “No.”
“Did you have a car?”
“Yeah, we had a car.“And then she might start talking about that.
And so you find the button—which was, for my mother, talking about her children—and then you turn it, you twist it to where you want the interview to go. Obviously, I didn’t want her to talk about me. I know about me. But I wanted it to twist around to her childhood.
“Okay, so you never got to take dance lessons, did you take baton lessons? Did you take ice skating lessons? Did you do anything fun like that? Did you belong to any groups?” ...and then you can get her talking.
“You had me in Girl Scouts, Did you do Girl Scouts, is that why you had me in Girl Scouts?”
“No, we had this other group, we did this church group thing…” and then she might start talking about that.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: So tell me about your church, what else about it? Right. It’s finding the way in—
Kim von Aspern-Parker: Yeah, finding the door in.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Finding the way in.
Here, in one place, is Kim’s advice for people doing interviews.
Jamboree Geneabloggers on Interviewing
สล็อตออนไลน์ ได้เงินจริงIntroduction
Kim von Aspern-Parker, Part 1
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This interview transcript has been lightly edited for clarity and to remove, you know, a few, like, forms of spoken word that don’t, um, work as well as the written word. There are also places in the interviews where I withhold information at the request of the person interviewed.
Kim von Aspern-Parker: When I started interviewing my dad, I started asking him questions about his family, cause I was doing my genealogy. The first indication that I got from my dad that he was going to be a hard interview:
“What was your grandfather’s name?”
He says, “Mr. Gilchrist.”
“No, like first name, Dad.”
“Grandpa.”
(Probably not.)
So, every time I interviewed my dad it was like draaaaagging information out of him, except this one time - he was having congestive heart failure—so he was on oxygen, and his oxygen saturation got low. Well, when your oxygen saturation gets low, you got loopy—it’s like you’ve been drinking.
And so my dad was wandering around the house singing, “All the girls are wild simply wild over me.”
And he sat down and he goes, “Did I ever tell you I was a Deejay?”
And I went “No!”
And he says “Yep, during World War 2. Worked at the NCO Club. I was a deejay.”
He told me this whole story about being a deejay at the NCO club. Dad’s brother-in-law was in a band. Dad would go and change out the records at the NCO clubs—the Non commissioned officer clubs.
At that time the NCO clubs were segregated. So he would be changing out the records not only in the white men’s NCO clubs, but also in the black officers NCO clubs. He would go and give the records from the black NCO clubs to his brother-in-law who was copying the styles. My father’s brother-in-law was name withheld by request , and he was the drummer for a musician who greatly influenced the direction of rock and roll (name withheld by request.)
So that’s one of my family stories.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Wow. Now, when you sat down with your dad, did you say “Tell me stories.” Did you record it? Did you have a tape recorder, did you—
Kim von Aspern-Parker: I did use prompts every time I talked to him. I used the book To Our Children’s Children. I love the questions in that book. And it would get them talking. Plus, since my degree was in journalism, I have a little bit more background on knowing how to ask questions. So you don’t ask questions that somebody could answer yes or no to, like,
“Do you know who your grandfather is?”
“Yes”
(pause)
“Do you want to share that information?”
So I would ask questions like “What is the best practical joke you ever played?” Or “What practical joke do you remember?” and then my dad would tell me these wonderful stories about how he was in grade school and they stole somebody’s underwear and run it up the flagpole.
Or I would ask him, “who do you remember from your neighborhood?” and he would say, ” Ok, well, let’s see… across the street was Charlie—he lived here” and it led to my father drawing out an entire diagram of his neighborhood. Which is invaluable for me as a genealogist—now you know who lived where when you get that census. And you have stories for each person.
“Oh, Charlie was my best friend. We used to dig up worms together and we used to go down to the lake and fish.”
And so it would lead to stories like that my dad would share with me. Those are invaluable to me. I taped all of them—
FOHUDT: Cassette tapes?
KvAP: Yes, cassette tapes. That was back in the day.
FOHUDT: How long ago was this?
Kim von Aspern-Parker: I started to interview my dad in 1982, I think. It was over a considerable amount of time. He passed away in 2001. So every year or so, I would take a day or two and ask him to tell me stories.
I really am sad that I didn’t tape the stories that were at Christmastime and stuff like that, when we were just sitting down and he’d just start talking, and I didn’t have anything with me that I could pull out [to start recording] and say, “wai—wai—wait, say that again.”
My aunt in Florida is 90, and I just visited her, and I wanted her to tell me family stories. And every time I would pull out the chart and say, “Okay, so what do you remember about your grandfather Henry Landry?” she’d say, “Ah. They’re all dead people, I don’t want to talk about them. They’re just all dead people.”
So I got in the habit of taking my tape recorder with me. And I had just a little handheld digital—and I’d bring out my phone and my notebook and everything I had—my cup of tea. I just set everything else that I was carrying with me down, and the tape recorder would be on. I wouldn’t tell her anything, I’d just set it all down on the table. And we’d start talking, and I’d say something about—“you remember when you told me the story about Henry, what was that about?—that he had a farm, or he lost the farm, or what?” and she’d go, “Oh!” and she’d start telling me the story.
But if I pulled out the tape recorder and let her know it was on, she would not talk to me.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Did you ever discuss with her the fact that you had recorded this?
Kim von Aspern-Parker: Oh yeah, she knows.
FOHUDT: She knows. Tell me about that conversation with her. How she come to know that?
Kim von Aspern-Parker: Because later I said, “You know, all these stories you’re telling me. They’re all about our family, It’s not so much that they’re dead people but they’re our family.” And I said, “And I didn’t grow up in this family, so I don’t know these stories. So I’ve been taping them so I can have them.”
She said, “Oh, okay.”
She was okay with that. She just didn’t want to talk about dead people. So anytime I’d pull out the genealogy chart, that was talking about dead people.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: So the chart equals dead people, versus “oh you know that story blah blah blah,” the “by-the-way”...
Kim von Aspern-Parker: The by-the-way casual conversation about her father or her grandfather or whatever—that was okay.
Or “tell me a story about your husband who was in the air force and he’s passed on.”
Those were okay: she didn’t mind talking family stories. She didn’t care that I was recording it. She just cared that I didn’t pull out that genealogy chart—that meant “dead people” to her.
FOHUDT: Really!
KvAP: Isn’t that funny?
And I need the chart to keep track of who’s who.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: Right. Yeah you kind of have to have your little crib sheet on a small 3 x 5 card. So are those the two people that you’ve interviewed? Have you interviewed other people?
Kim von Aspern-Parker: Mostly, yeah. I have wonderful aunts and uncles that live into their 90s. The problem is some of them love to tell stories. My Aunt Lena loved to tell stories. And she used to put out newsletters every Mondays and she would tell stories about the family. So I have tons of family stories from her that she put out on those Monday messages that she sent to all her friends and family.
FOHUDT: Email?
KvAP: Yeah. She would send them out on email. She sent them out before she died. Now her daughter has a blog and is kinda continuing that. So that’s really fun. We have family stories that come to me from all different places.
I think that the trick is remembering to listen. Not just to know which questions to ask, but remember to listen because the stories happen just in the weirdest times, like people driving somewhere: “Oh, my gosh, that reminds me of the time when—” If you’re just kinda going, Oh, yeah, yeah, okay—you’re not paying attention, and listening, and then expanding on it, saying, “Well, how old were you? What school were you at? Were your friends in on that?” You need to know how to continue the conversation, how to keep it going so that it becomes a whole blown story, and not just a remark.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: And that’s something that especially your journalism background has helped you with. Do you think that you already had a sense of that before you got into journalism?
Kim von Aspern-Parker: I think I had a sense of that. I’m nosy. I’m a nosy person, so I had a sense of that beforehand, that I was always asking questions and saying—
“Why did you do that?” or “How come?”
“Well, because my friend thought it was a good idea.”
“Well, Really? if I did that now you wouldn’t punish me, Mom?”
“Yeah, I probably would.”
“Well what made you think it was a good idea then?”
I’ve always been the question person and drive my family crazy. I have that; I think that journalism honed that a little bit. Somebody could develop it if they were interested in the stories. You have to be interested.
Family Oral History Using Digital Tools: If you had advice for somebody who was starting out with interviewing someone who thinks, “I’d like to do this,” what one thing is the biggest takeaway or one of the biggest takeaways? (Or, if more than one thing, boil it down to three best bits of advice)
Kim von Aspern-Parker: Don’t interrupt them.
If somebody starts talking to you about a story, don’t get so focused in on the fact that you’re trying to get Grandma’s birthdates that you don’t listen to the story that they’re telling you.
Because a lot of times you’re interviewing somebody and you ask them the question, “Okay, now where was grandma born?”
And they say, “Oh, you know grandma was born in Wichita Kansas” (or wherever), and they start telling you “you know, she told me this time about a tornado she lived through” and she starts talking about the tornado.
Well, now you’re thinking, “yeah, but I need her birth date, yeah, but I need her birth date . You’re not telling me about her birth date .”
You’re missing the story they are telling you about how grandmother lived through the tornado and lost her house (or whatever the story is). And people will tend to interrupt and say, “Okay, okay, tell me about that later, but right now I need—” and you’ve lost the story. They’ll never come back to it. So if they start on something, let them go on it.
My second best advice is pull out the photo album. The photo albums get people talking.
You can see, and ask:
“Well, who’s this in this picture?”
“That’s your grandpa Henry.”
“Well, who’s he holding?”
“Oh! That was the first baby born that year.”
“Who is it?”
And then it starts the story talking about when that baby came to visit and we had a big family reunion and Aunt Sally was there, and that was the last time anybody saw Aunt Sally, she disappeared after that. And the story goes on and on and on.
It’s a story you wouldn’t have gotten if you hadn’t looked at that picture.
Those are my two best ones.
FOHUDT: Have you seen…
(at this point I started talking about the posts I’ve done on this site about photo albums)
I’ve done a few blog posts about working with photo albums for working with interviews.
What I saw when I witnessed a family interview take place during a holiday visit (the interview was with photo albums).
I share those interviewing with photo-album-lessons again, with better instructions.
In part 2, I have a YouTube movie where we’re going through my interview of my mom with some of the pages from the album. So you can get a sense of how to do it if you’re going to have a recording so that it works.
In the next post—the second half of Kim von Aspern-Parker’s interview:
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The four people:
(Listed in the order I interviewed them)
You decide to contact the government agency that can give you some vital records for Great Great Great Grandma, which are stored at the Grove County Records. You want her birth certificate and marriage certificate.
The usual procedure for that is to write a request for the information. Maybe they have a PDF form online that you can fill out and print. Or maybe you just write Great Great Great Grandma’s name and whatever other information you have. Along with the request, you write a check to cover the processing fee and mail your request to the Grove County Records Department.
And then you wait.
One day, an envelope with Grove County Records Department return address appears in your mail.
Excited, you tear it open. You are moments away from looking at Great Great Great Grandma’s birth and marriage certificates.
You pull out the contents. Your request form is there with a big red stamp.
Denied.
There’s a handwritten note scrawled at the bottom. It says, “Grove County Records Department just does not feel like providing you with that information.”
Oh, and of all things, they kept the check.
“No way!” you exclaim. “How can that be?! This is a records department of a government entity; they all more or less follow the same kind of procedure. Providing records to people is one of the things they’re supposed to do. They should do this. And they say they don’t feel like it?!? What is up with that? Are they nuts?”
In this scenario, I’ve deliberately mis-matched a request for historical information and a response.
The request: A genealogical vital records request.
The response: A family member’s refusal to record an interview with you.
Got that? The genealogy request receives a response that might happen in an oral history setting.
The scenario highlights the difference between research for genealogical records and the act of recording family interviews.
Genealogy is a practice of record-seeking and record keeping. The hunt for records follows a more-or-less predictable path.
There are different document types, and different locations to find them. For each type of document, though, the method you follow to get your hands on the document is predictable and orderly.
The hunt is for the record. The most common types of records are vital records (births, marriages, deaths), court records, property records, records in newspapers, census records, church or synagogue or mosque records, city directories, military pension records, immigration and travel records, cemetery gravestones. The genealogist is on a hunt for records.
(That’s not to say that genealogy research is unaffected by individual circumstance. Variations in name spelling may turn a straightforward search into a daunting challenge. Or it may be that your ancestor’s Grove County Records Department may have burned up in the horrible Grove Downtown Fire of 1926. But an individual fire that destroyed all the records does not change the general method by which you obtain vital records from most County Records Departments.)
A family interview, where one member asks another member to sit down and tell stories, is filled with unpredictable circumstances. Caprice. A certain personality type with certain inclinations. Hidden motivations. Maybe the person will agree to talk to you, and maybe they won’t. It is “Your mileage may vary” writ large.
Here’s my challenge: On this site, I write about “here’s how to do this extremely satisfying process.” But I am one person with one family. I can write about equipment and how to come up with good questions. But for that initial step to sit down and interview someone, how is it possible for me to move from saying “This is what it’s like to talk with my mother” to “What it is like to interview any mother” ?
We’re all different. My mother likes to talk and share. She has no problem sitting with a recorder and taking part in an interview. Not every mother is like my mother, though.
I want to learn from other people’s experiences. What’s it like when you’ve got a reluctant family member? What is it like if someone refuses to be interviewed? What other struggles do people have? What triumphs? What other advice can I give for family situations that differ from my own family?
That brings us to the experiences of four genealogists at Jamboree.
Each one interviewed family members. Some interviewees were reticent and difficult, some were willing and open. You’ll find different approaches to the question, “how do I get the person to agree to be interviewed?” You’ll find surprising perceptions that seem (appear but really do not) get in the way of the interview. You’ll also learn how they worked around the reaction “OMG! There’s, you know, RECORDING EQUIPMENT, yikes!” You’ll find out what they did with their interviews afterwards, and get some fantastic ideas.
In the comments, feel free to describe your own experiences.
How did it go? What did you talk about? Difficulties in getting family members to talk while recording the conversation? If so, what are the issues that make the process objectionable for your relative? Were there any problems or fiascos? Technical glitches? What have you learned from it? Has your relationship with the interviewee changed as a result of the recording?
The first interview, with Kim von Aspern-Parker (Part 1) (Part 2), will begin the series early next week.
]]>The collection was digitized from 78 rpm recordings of the Victor label of records. Sony owns the license to the collection, but made an arrangement with the Library of Congress for people to listen to them. (You can hear, you can share, you can make playlists, but you cannot download the music)
It’s the iTunes of Retro Music.
Crossword Puzzle Blues: Duncan Sisters (1924)
Darn these words that crossword puzzle me
I’ll be basking [?] till they muzzle me
Some demented nut invented
this way to stay discontented.
(The Duncan Sisters also performed Um-um-da-da. Can’t play the embedded song? Permalink on National Jukebox site)
Back in the day between 1900-1929, how were recordings made? That wondrous item called a microphone did not yet exist, so recordings were made by a strictly acoustic process. It was all mechanical, and as the image below shows, a musical performance captured by a huge funnel which channeled the audio waves toward a small diaphragm, which vibrated in sympathy with the sound. Attached to the diaphragm was a stylus, which also vibrated and etched those vibrations into blank wax cylinder or flat wax disk.
Those 78 records have been hanging out in archives, and this week, the Library of Congress released their first batch of digitized recordings.
The National Jukebox site has a photo essay describing how they made the Jukebox. From selecting the best recordings, to finding the best physical specimen from among identical records, to cataloguing the recording, to cleaning the physical disk, writing up file names and then creating bar codes for each recording, to actually digitizing the audio and getting the best possible audio transfer, to scanning the phonograph label, to making compressed copies suitable for playback on the web, the workflow and processes involved is awe-inspiring.
Yeah, sure, I’ve digitized some 33 1/3 LP records, but the kind of process and workflow to digitize and catalogue so many items is staggering.
Humor long before LOLCats
Long before silly cat photos and LOLCats became popular on the internet, there was 1908-style cat humor. (stay with it until 1 minute 50 seconds)
Can’t play the embedded song? Permalink on National Jukebox site
Swing Low Sweet Chariot:Tuskeegee Institute Singers(1916)
(other songs recorded by the Tuskeegee Institute Singers)
Can’t play the embedded song? Permalink on National Jukebox site
Calliope Song: The Seven Musical Magpies, 1924
(you’ve heard this song in Saturday morning cartoons. Now with yodeling!)
Can’t play the embedded song? Permalink on National Jukebox Site
]]>It all began at dinner last Monday. The three of us sat down. Before long, the waiter brought us bread. He took a slice, buttered it, took a bite, and chewed it. Then a story came out, about a woman whose house he went to when he was a boy—about, oh, eight years old or so. He liked to be there on the day she baked bread.
He is my boyfriend’s father, Doc M Sr. He was in town for a visit.
He was born in 1926, the year that Winnie The Pooh was published, and Henry Ford established the 40-hour work week. In the year he was born, Moussolini came into power, and Emperor Hirohito ascended the throne in Japan. World War 1, the war to end all wars, had been over a scant 8 years. He grew up during the Depression in California’s inland empire. His family had to move around a lot because his dad did manual labor, and jobs were, well, scarce.
Between ordering dinner and choosing the wine, this story came out. He did some work for her, chores, maybe mowed her lawn. He loved to show up on the day of the week that she baked bread. She offered him a cookie, but he said no, he was waiting for the bread. That smell of freshly-baked bread—mmmmmmmm! To him, she was old. Ancient. When he visited, they’d talk. He asked her questions about her life.
“Did you know anyone famous or important, anyone I might know about or have read about?”
She told him of the Lincoln Douglas debate. He knew of Lincoln. He was impressed. What was it like? What did Lincoln say?
“‘Oh, I was a young girl, I don’t remember anything that Mr. Lincoln said.’”
Her dad had some political involvement where she grew up—serving on city council or the county government. Her dad had some involvement with putting on this event, which took place on a platform out in a big, open field. She went to the debate with her father. They sat close—either on the edge of the platform, or close enough to have a good view.
In those days if you wanted to know what someone had to say, you went there to witness the event, to hear the person’s words. You didn’t watch it on TV afterwards. You could read about it in the paper, but if you wanted to hear and see it for yourself, you had to go there. (In fact, one thing Doc M Sr mentioned during his visit was liking to go to the movies to see the newsreels—it was the first time he got a picture of the people he’d heard about or had read about.)
There it was. A cool story. Very unexpected. An eyewitness to history. Though Doc M Sr thought she was ancient, we calculated. Let’s say she was around 8 years old when the debates took place, that’d mean she was born around 1850. So in 1934 or so when Doc M Sr was 8, that’s make her roughly 84 years old. Doc M Sr. is himself 84 years old. I am two people removed from an eyewitness to Lincoln. Two 84-year old people.
What’s there to learn from it? It is enough to marvel at the connection, to trace back to Lincoln through two people. There’s more to it than that:
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