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It has been said that this is the age of the memoir. Everyone is telling their story. Story is in a renaissance. It is bursting out of its childlike position in our culture to reclaim its place once again among the forces that create and develop the human psyche. Everyone, from teachers developing writing lessons in our grade schools, to the Harvard School of Business are catching on. Story is the basis of how humans understand, dream, learn, create. And it always has been.
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We can help you with:
Collecting the Story
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"The Last Stamp"
Jimmy Mitchell was only 25 when he was killed in Vietnam, and his daughter, whom he never met, was only six weeks old. Thirty-two years later Jan, his wife, wrote a memoir based on her memories of him, and their young life together. She included photographs of precious heirlooms, keepsakes and family pictures, in order to tell his story fully, for their daughter, now a mother of three. Jimmy was such a respected and beloved member of his community that as the book began to unfold, it took on a life of its own, as many of Jimmy's buddies and commanding officers from around the United States, came forward to support Jan and honor Jimmy. The local community college invested in printing 200 copies in order to teach "The Last Stamp" as part of their history courses. His mother sat in the middle, his stepfather to the left of her. I sat to the right and gave her hand a squeeze as the hearse led the procession out of Del Mar. This is his last ride on 101. We drove here on our first date. I always snuggled close to him in his '54 light blue Chevy convertible. |
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Then & Now
At 75, Kay Vickers began writing her autobiography to fulfill a childhood dream to write. She had been born in 1916 in the deep South, where everyone in town knew her when she walked down the street of her small home town, because she was born into an old, well established family. As a very young woman she leaves her roots to make a new life for herself in Boston. There she gets a job as an editor for the Atlantic Monthly, allowing her to be in contact with many of the great minds of her time. In Boston she also marries and starts a family. They became the center of her life. As Kay worked on the ending few chapters of her manuscript she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Her book then became a lifesaver, because she had a meaningful activity to put her end‐of‐life energies into, and the support, through StoryArts, to see it to completion. And then, at the close of her life, her husband and care facility nurses would read her life story to her, reminding Kay that her life was based on the story of a remarkably intelligent woman who was a substantial contributor to her family and community. On some cool summer evenings when the lights were low, I would hide among the rows and with my pregnant belly barely touching the ground, I would cut a few flowers and pick some vegetables. My theft was not overlooked. I received a formal note from my landlady. I was somewhat pissed. Why do wealthy people become charitable in large sums only when their name heads the list. |
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In Search of My Mother
Jean Brunkow was only five when her mother died after giving birth to Jean's youngest brother. The family was so heartbroken after their mother died they never really spoke of her again. Jean was in her mid-sixties when she decided she wanted to know more about her, and so literally went on a "search for my mother". To help her, she started a journal in which she kept notes of places she went, people she spoke with, keepsakes she found and stories she heard. Her mother had died almost 60 years earlier so much of her mother's life remains a mystery, but the discoveries Jean did find became the basis of this book, a journal and a scrapbook of her search for her mother. The book has a handful of letters, which were reproduced, so family members can pull them out of their envelopes and read them, just as Jean did when a great aunt found them under her bed in Iowa. My mother's wedding dress now hangs on the door to the closet of my room. This afternoon I overcame the reluctance to bring it out of the cedar chest where it had been for over fifty years. |
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Hugh Gillin's Story: This Is How It Happened…
Hugh Gillin was born in 1925 in the heart of the south to a father whom he was told never to speak of, since his father was a drunk who had abandoned him and his mother. Hugh, then raised by his mother and grandparents, became a statewide basketball star in high school and joined the army during WWII, where he was awarded the Purple Cross for being shot in the leg, in a small town in France on the Maginot Line. He went back to the states and finished college, married, had a family of four. There his father's alcoholic legacy finally catches up with him. Because Hugh had been drinking since he was 14, at 38 his life crumbles around him, just as his father's before him had. Hugh, in the heat of a life threatening argument with his wife and oldest son, realizes he needs help and starts attending AA meetings, where his life not only turns around, but he uproots himself to Hollywood and becomes a successful actor, playing next to many of the greats of his time. Years later, as a natural born Irish storyteller, with a dining room full of memorabilia, StoryArts audio taped him and put together an oversized, hard bound, coffee table book, dedicated to his children, and their children. The next morning we went in to take the town. That's when Gillin's [my] squad is up front again. As we're going in, Kelly got killed. So here I am. I've got my ticket home. I know I'm shot, I know I'm out of there. |
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Loss, Liberty and Love:
My Journey From Essen to Auschwitz to the United States When Horst Cahn came to us, he wanted to know if we could help him put his book into print at Kinkos. He had a handwritten version of his life that he had written in English at a weekly local Adult School class. It was the story of his childhood years in a Jewish family, in his hometown of Essen, Germany, followed by the journey his life took when he was 16 and he, his mother and father were sent by train to Auschwitz, where they died in the ovens. Somehow Horst managed to survive for three years, and also survived one of the deadliest of the Nazi Death Marches. Upon his liberation Horst met and fell in love with a young farm girl who came to his rescue. He married Giesl and they immigrated to the United States where they had a family and he ran a successful deli in his newly adopted home-town of Encinitas. As StoryArts consortium members read his story we knew it needed to be in a high quality bound book, if at all possible, however he did not have the funds for such an endeavor. We were very fortunate to find a graphic book designer who was converting to Judaism at this time, because she generously offered to donate her services. Horst had many printings of this book produced, which he made available when he spoke to local groups about his years in Auschwitz. I don't want to dwell on the cruelty… but I want you to know we have an obligation to see that this never can or will happen again. |
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Reaching For The Stars
As a child Dirk Frowein lived in the former Dutch East Indies during the last days of its colonial times, and also spent more than three years in a Japanese Concentration Camp during WWII. At only fifteen, he was put into hard labor. Years later, after learning that his mother and father had been killed, he was able to escape. Having grown up in a wealthy family with servants he ordered around as a young child, Dirk wanted to produce this book to insure that his own grandchildren knew of the hardships of life, so that they would never treat others as he once had. This book (100 copies) has been made available to local writer's organizations. Later on, when we became more and more hungry, we'd eat anything! I remember eating rats, cats and dogs. Cat meat is a little bit sweet. Dog meat is nicer. I remember someone had a stone and killed a snake, skinned it with a piece of glass, and fired it over a fire. It was delicious. Frogs were one thing that I couldn't eat. One man caught a frog, cut it into pieces, and ate it raw. He said it tasted like anchovies! |
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Lava Hot Springs, A Small Town With a Big Challenge
The History of South Bannock County Historical Center and Local Area Darrell Byington compiled articles and archives, and wrote narrative essays, all focused on the story of the local area of South Idaho where he was born and raised, and where he helped develop a state-of-the-art, nationally visited museum, in the small town of Lava Hot Springs. The book begins by over-viewing the story of the European settlers into America, and the Native American tribes affected by the settlers development as the settlers reach the Southern Idaho area, then details regional and Lava Hot Springs stories, and concludes with how the museum was established. This book challenges residents and state government to realize the tremendous resource the hot springs in downtown Lava always have been, and still are. It concludes by suggesting the hot springs be overseen by a local foundation, and the financial income be retained and utilized by the proposed foundation to sponsor and support the local community good. The book was published to add value to the museum and bring in income. Darrell Byington and StoryArts Founding Director Lois Sunrich went to Lava Hot Springs for a book signing of this publication, sponsored by the museum, in April 2007. |
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Precious Rememberries, How They Linger
Edna had been told by her doctor that she should no longer drive. She was now 80 and he knew it was no longer safe for her to be on the road. As an extremely active woman she decided this was the perfect time to put together a book of her life, which she had always wanted to do, but never had the time. She set about it by sitting in her apartment overlooking a beautiful golf course, in her extra bedroom hammock-chair, all by herself and audio taping one brief story after another, for many weeks. By the time she had 10 audiotapes she contacted StoryArts and we helped her put them into a biography of short stories. Edna never had children of her own, but she was very close to her nieces and nephews.
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