Promises and Pitfalls of Oral History

  Evening Star, Oct 08, 1881 ·Page 3

Keep Oral History in Perspective
After posting our podcast, Tell Me A Story Program, we had lots of questions on the accuracy, reliability, and/or storytellers' liberal remembrances. So we thought we should make sure our readers and listeners keep oral history in perspective.

Every family has that one storyteller. Maybe it’s your grandmother at the kitchen table, weaving tales about “the old country.” Or an uncle who swears he remembers a long-lost cousin who “headed west and struck it rich.” These voices pull us in. They don’t just hand us names and dates; they hand us a heartbeat. That’s the magic of oral history for genealogists and family historians.

But, like every treasure, oral history comes with its cracks.

Why We Treasure Stories

The Waynesburg Republican

Think back to the first time you heard a family story that made you lean in closer. Maybe it was about a soldier who never came home, a farm washed away in a flood, or an ancestor who could “cure a fever with nothing but herbs.” These stories paint pictures no census record ever could. They give us personality, emotion, and a glimpse of who our people really were.

For communities whose histories weren’t always written down, oral tradition was often the only way to keep memories alive. Without those stories, whole chapters of our shared past might have vanished.

And let’s be honest: sometimes oral history gives us the breadcrumb trail we need. A half-remembered name, the mention of a town, or the memory of a neighbor can open the door to records we’d never have thought to search. 

But Stories Have Shadows

The trouble is, memory is slippery. Ask three siblings about the same childhood event, and you’ll likely get three different stories. Dates blur. Names shift. Sometimes tales grow taller with each retelling, passed down like a family heirloom polished until it barely resembles the original.

And then there’s silence.

The Sun, Feb 15, 1880 ·Page 3

Families often leave certain things unsaid. Topics like illegitimacy, lost children, mental illness, or conflicts are often swept under the rug. What we don’t hear in oral history can be just as telling as what we do.

The hardest part? Once a storyteller passes, those memories go with them. Unless we’ve taken the time to record, transcribe, or preserve the stories, the voices fade. That’s a loss we can’t recover.

How We Can Honor the Stories

So what do we do, as family historians? We listen carefully, but we also question kindly. We record, not just on paper, but with our phones, with audio or video, so future generations hear the voices themselves. We ask open-ended questions: “Tell me what it was like…” instead of “Was it 1937 or 1938?”

And we remember that oral history is a guide, not a guarantee. It’s the spark that leads us to deeds, obituaries, or immigration records where we can confirm, or sometimes correct the information with facts proven by data.

A Final Word

Oral history is like sitting by the fire with your ancestors. It warms, it illuminates, and sometimes it even crackles with surprises. It doesn’t replace the paper trail, but it makes the trail worth following.

So, next time you’re at a family gathering, lean in. Ask the questions. Capture the laughter, the tears, the pauses. Because someday, someone will thank you for preserving not just the facts—but the voices behind them.