That’s not the way I remember it, Johnny

I’ve written before about how few of us know when our time on earth will end. That uncertainty alone is reason enough for us to take immediate steps to preserve our personal legacies for future generations.

But I often draw a chuckle or two from my students when I offer another reason for getting their stories down in black and white as soon as possible: If you’re the first person in your family to document an event, your version then becomes the story of record for future generations.

Think about that for a moment. I’ll bet you have different versions of some story floating around in your own family. You would expect that, given that no two people witness an event in precisely the same way. But the variations sometimes are remarkably different.

I’m a strong advocate for accuracy so I suggest that you check out a story as well as you can before passing it on. Be prepared for challenges to your own memory. Stories become more entrenched in our memories with each telling. That doesn’t make them more accurate. Once you’re satisfied, put it in writing. Seeing a story in print usually makes it more credible in the eyes of a reader.

Wouldn’t you prefer that story to be your version?

Writing tip of the day: Identify the stories in your family that vary according to the storyteller and determine the “real story.”

Larry Lehmer is a professional personal historian who helps people preserve their family histories. To learn more, visit his web site, send him an e-mail or follow him on Twitter.

Flickr photo courtesy of 'Playingwithbrushes'.

Comments

[Sharon Lippincott]

I fully support your call for accuracy, insofar as it can be determined, and yes, absolutely I want my version to be definitive. Since nobody else is writing, that's easy.

That being said, in our family, the "real" story is the one any particular person is telling at any given time. We all accuse each other of having creative memories, and there is seldom anything tangible to validate any of it.

Years ago my sister and I managed to determine that although we shared an address, our parents had the same names, and we have a certain amount of overlap, we grew up in totally different families, and there is no way to reconcile that.