One of the questions I get asked most often is: ‘Which type of oral history film should I choose?’ It's a fair question. 

Your grandchildren will never see you the way your own children did. They’ll be born into a world where you’re already old, or perhaps where you’re already gone. They won’t remember you young and strong. They won’t know what your voice sounded like when you were in your prime, full of energy and dreams and plans for the future. But if you record your oral history now, they’ll know you in a way that transcends time. The Voice They’ll Recognize Imagine your great-granddaughter,

When we think about preserving a loved one’s story, it’s easy to imagine it as something we do for them -- a gift. A way to make sure their memories don’t disappear. But this is bigger than that one person. It's for the whole family, including generations to come. A parent’s memories are also the origin story of their children. A grandparent’s experiences quietly shaped the traditions, values, and decisions that ripple through a family today. Even the stories we think we alre

It may not be as difficult as you think. If you’ve ever thought, “I would love to have this recorded, but they’d never agree,” you’re not alone. Often, the people whose stories matter most are the hardest to convince. Not because they don’t care, but because they don’t see themselves the way you see them. Here are some gentle, respectful ways to approach the conversation. ⸻ 1. Start with love, not the film Before you mention cameras or recording, start with why. Instead of: “

(Hint: It's not what you think) When people think about preserving family history, they often start with the basics: names, dates, places. Where you were born. When you married. How many children you had. Those details matter. But here’s the truth most families only discover too late: that’s not what your grandchildren will be most curious about. What future generations really want to know is who you were—not on paper, but in life. It’s Not the Timeline. It’s the Texture. Ima

You know the conversation. It happens every birthday, every holiday, every time you ask what they’d like as a gift. “Oh, we don’t need anything.” “Really, don’t spend your money on us.” “We have everything we need.” And they mean it. Your parents have spent decades accumulating stuff. They’re downsizing, not expanding. They don’t want another sweater, another gadget, another picture frame. The last thing they need is more things to dust or find space for. But here’s what they

As we step into 2026, many of us are making resolutions about health, finances, or personal growth. But there’s one resolution that matters more than any other, one that can’t be postponed or put on next year’s list: preserving the stories of the people we love while we still can. If you’re reading this, chances are there’s someone in your life whose memories you treasure. Maybe it’s a parent who lived through extraordinary times, a grandparent whose wisdom has shaped your fa

Most of us grew up believing that photographs were the best way to preserve the past. We inherited albums, framed portraits, shoeboxes of snapshots — each image a frozen moment in time. And photographs do  matter. They show us faces, places, and moments that might otherwise be forgotten. They remind us what someone looked like, what they wore, how young they once were. But photographs, for all their value, are silent. They don’t capture the sound of someone’s laughter, the rh

These questions will help you capture the moments, memories, and meaning that shaped their lives – and yours.

Why it's important not to wait to preserve family members' memories.