RECLAIMING MEDIA

It was late summer 1977 and I was pregnant with my first baby – which somehow has nothing to do with what I'm about to tell you except that I remember I was pregnant so I can date this event. I knew that within a few months my life would change. My dad was 73 and I wanted to conduct an oral history with him. Cassette tapes were the media medium of the age. With an inexpensive recorder and some blank tapes, anyone could conduct an oral history.

So I met my dad in his studio at home in Orofino and we talked for a while about his life. It was obvious he was prepared. He had thought through what he would talk about. As we began our conversation, I couldn't find a good position for the mic, so he said, "I'll just hold it." Not having had much experience, I let him do it, and that was a mistake. There's a lot of noise of the tape from the movement of his fingers. I was greatly disappointed at the time and listening to the tape was difficult for me. Still, it's like a picture of yourself that you don't like – as time goes by it doesn't seem to look so bad. With the blog posts specifically about my dad, I thought of that taped conversation and longed to hear it again. So, I pulled it out of the drawer where very special things are kept and put it into a player we have left over from the age of cassettes. (Wasn't that yesterday?) In the process of rewinding it, the tape broke right at the beginning.

I refuse to be upset about these things. It was an imperfect medium to begin with. But, neither was I willing to toss the tape without seeing what might be done. Hallie researched for me and sent a link for a Seattle business – Reclaim Media – that specializes in transferring LPs and tapes to CDs, etc. I mailed the tape to Reclaim Media on Monday and the finished product was in my mailbox the following Monday. All in all, it cost me about $30, including shipping both ways, to have the tape repaired and transferred to CD – worth every penny. Somehow that noise on the tape just doesn't bother me like it used to. The voice and the information are just so precious to me.

My dad didn't have a particularly good memory for dates and places and details, but that doesn't matter so much if you just want to know what someone thought or what his impressions were. But now and then in response to some question, he would say, "You'll have to ask Ethel. I don't remember." So I approached Aunt Ethel, who was five years older than my dad, but the thought of a recorded interview apparently made her nervous. She would write something out and read it, she said. "Can't we just talk?" I asked. Oh no! So – it never happened.

Next week, I'll pick up where I left off with Vance in boot camp preparing for Christmas leave which he will spend with family in Jacksonville, Oregon. And, writing from Jacksonville instead of from camp, he expresses what he thinks about the general. KW