Many peoples' earliest connections with the past come from hearing the stories told by parents and grandparents. The history that they start with is in many ways far more heritage than history. There is usually a sense of family connection or pride that accompanies these stories. Just as in the song "Something to be Proud of," many parents and grandparents use stories about their pasts and the past in general to help explain how their children and grandchildren should live their lives.
There's a story that my daddy tells religiously
Like clockwork every time he sees an opening
In a conversation about the way things used to be
Well I'd just roll my eyes and make a bee-line for the door
But I'd always wind up starry-eyed, cross-legged on the floor
Hanging on to every word
Man, the things I heard
It was harder times and longer days
Five miles to school, uphill both ways
We were cane switch raised, and dirt floor poor
'Course that was back before the war
Yeah, your uncle and I made quite a pair
Flying F-15's through hostile air
He went down but they missed me by a hair
He'd always stop right there and say...
That's something to be proud of
That's a life you can hang your hat on
That's a chin held high as the tears fall down
A gut sucked in, a chest stuck out
Like a small town flag a-flyin'
Or a newborn baby cryin'
In the arms of the woman that you love
That's something to be proud of
These early experiences often lead people to a deep connection with their heritages, but those who experienced past events have even stronger attachments to the past. To these individuals, these events and stories are far more than historical occurrences, they are the stories that make up their lives.
A song that truly reflects this is called "In Color" by Jamie Johnson. In the song, a grandfather is trying to explain to his grandson different events in his life through a few black and white photographs. He is frustrated because of all that the pictures leave out from the stories. There is a really powerful line in the song where he says "That's the story of my life/ right here in black and white."
I said, Grandpa what’s this picture here
It’s all black and white and ain’t real clear
Is that you there, he said, yeah I was eleven
It’s all black and white and ain’t real clear
Is that you there, he said, yeah I was eleven
Times were tough back in thirty-five
That’s me and Uncle Joe just tryin’ to survive
A cotton farm in the Great Depression
And if it looks like we were scared to death
Like a couple of kids just trying to save each other
Like a couple of kids just trying to save each other
You should have seen it in color
This one here was taken overseas
In the middle of hell in nineteen forty-three
In the winter time you can almost see my breath
That was my tail gunner ole’ Johnny McGee
He was a high school teacher from New Orleans
And he had my back right through the day we left
And if it looks like we were scared to death
Like a couple of kids just trying to save each other
You should have seen it in color
A picture’s worth a thousand words
But you can’t see what those shades of gray keep covered
You should have seen it in color
This one is my favorite one
This is me and grandma in the summer sun
All dressed up the day we said our vows
You can’t tell it here but it was hot that June
That rose was red and her eyes were blue
And just look at that smile I was so proud
That’s the story of my life
Right there in black and white
And if it looks like we were scared to death
Like a couple of kids just trying to save each other
You should have seen it in color
A picture’s worth a thousand words
But you can’t see what those shades of gray keep covered
You should have seen it in color
You should have seen it in color
In spite of the fact that this may not be a true story, it does reflect the feelings of many people who believe that those who never experienced these events are leaving such important things out when they tell it. These events are not merely dates on a timeline, but things that happened to them; not random faces, but their beloved friends and family; not obscure places, but familiar haunts from times gone by. These people are irrevocably attached to the history that they lived through.
I can only imagine a historian getting his or her hands on the photographs discussed in the song. What would a historian write about these pictures in a book, as a slide in a lecture, or as part of a museum exhibit? History deals with being impartial, with critical inquiry, but at the same time we, as historians must never forget that when we tell history we are telling the stories of living, breathing people who have deserve our respect and acknowledgement.
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