"It Don't Mean A Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing"

Thanksgiving went well. Good food, good times, etc. The run Thursday morning also went surprisingly well. I assumed I'd have a lot of trouble making even 1 mile, but not only did I get in the mile, I had a decent pace throughout (I think I ran about an 8.30 or 9.00 minute mile, which is fast for me). Ended up staying the night in Shawnee at my grandparents' house (there weren't enough beds for my two siblings, parents, and maternal grandparents to all sleep there, so I crashed in the spare bed at my paternal grandparents' place a few blocks away).

One of the interesting things about staying at my grandparents' house was looking at the old photographs that were back in the room I slept in. The room was originally my great-grandfather's back when he was still alive. For awhile after my great-grandmother died, he divided his time between my grandparents' house and my great-aunt and uncle's place (his other daughter) in Owasso. Anyway, he eventually ended up just staying with my grandparents (since they were both retired, while my great-aunt and uncle were not at the time), and that bedroom was his, so in it were lots of old photographs of various family members. Most of these pictures were from before I was born. There were several of my great-grandparents from back when they were close to my age and the years leading up to my lifetime. Most of the pics were, obviously, in black and white (though a couple of the really old ones had been colorized a bit, which I thought was interesting). There were even a few of my great-grandfather in his army uniform (he served during World War II) and a couple from when he and my great-grandmother were first married (turns out she was quite an attractive woman).

The pics interested me both as a member of the family and as a historian. I didn't know half the people in most of the photos, but suddenly I wanted to. I wanted to know their life stories, their hopes and dreams, their identities, their purposes and joys and sorrows. I wanted to know who these people were. Some of them my grandparents could probably identify, and some they might not be able to.

The pictures also sparked a renewed interest in a project I came up with ages ago, back when I first started getting truly interested in history. I want to sit down with each of my grandparents and just talk abou their lives. I want to get a recorded oral history of that generation, while I still can. I think part of the reason I haven't attempted this project yet (aside from lack of time) is fear of the implications. Working on that sort of project is a somewhat morbid idea, and it seems to remind me all too much of the fact that my grandparents are getting on in years. They're all in their seventies now. I hate the idea that they won't be around forever. Reminders of mortality are never kind.

But that's also one of the major reasons for doing the project. Both of my grandfathers are wonderful storytellers (it's where I picked up the urge to tell stories to anyone and everyone who will listen), and I know that both of them and both of my grandmothers have very interesting and worthwhile stories to tell. They grew up in the 1930s and 1940s, all lived very different lives, and could do so much for my understanding of what it's like to be a member of their generation. I want some of their stories to be available--even if only to me--for years to come.

Anyway, I may start working on the project over Christmas Break. It'd be something interesting--I could sit down with a tape recorder and some questions, and just let my grandparents ramble on (in a somewhat directed manner) about their lives. It'd be interesting to get a mental picture of life in Oklahoma over the past near-century.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: U2, "Vertigo"