The Ember Library

~ Family Stories ~

An object can travel through generations. Its story only travels if someone carries it with it.

A watch.

A ring.

A quilt.

A set of tools.

A piece of furniture.

A medal.

A book with a name written inside.

Something brought from another country.

Something made by hand.

Families often keep objects because they belonged to someone.

But as those objects pass from one person to another, something can gradually become separated from them:

their story.

Eventually, all that may remain is:

That belonged to your great-grandmother.

That is still something.

But perhaps, while more is known, we can preserve a little more.

What Information Should I Record About a Family Heirloom?

If the object travels to someone else, let the story travel with it.

You don't need to research its complete history.

You don't need to know what it is worth.

And you don't need to prove that something is historically important before its story deserves to be recorded.

Begin with what your family knows.

Put the object somewhere you can look at it.

Then ask a few simple questions.

What is it?

Begin with the obvious.

What would you call this?

A pocket watch.

A mixing bowl.

A wedding ring.

A carpenter's plane.

A military jacket.

A handmade quilt.

A family Bible.

Be specific if you know more.

If you don't, don't guess.

An old woodworking tool that belonged to Grandad is a perfectly useful description if nobody knows exactly what kind of tool it is.

Someone else may identify it later.

Whose was it?

Record the person's full name if you know it.

If it belonged to several people over time, record that too.

Perhaps:

Originally belonged to Florence Smith and later passed to her daughter, Margaret.

Or:

We believe this belonged to Robert Jones, although we're not certain.

An object can accumulate its own little chain of people.

Preserve that chain while someone still remembers it.

Where did it come from?

Sometimes the answer is simple.

She bought it.

His father gave it to him.

They received it as a wedding present.

Sometimes there is more.

Perhaps it was brought from another country.

Made by a relative.

Inherited.

Won.

Found.

Given in thanks.

Carried home after military service.

Bought with a first paycheck.

If there is a story about how the object entered the family, record it.

That beginning may explain why it was kept.

When did they have it?

An exact date is wonderful when you know one.

But you don't need one.

Around the 1940s.

Before they were married.

She already had it when Mom was a child.

He used it throughout the 1970s.

We remember seeing it in their house by the early 1980s.

Approximate information is still useful.

Just make it clear when a date is approximate rather than certain.

Where was it kept or used?

Place can be part of an object's story.

The clock may always have stood on the mantelpiece.

The tools may have hung in the garage.

The bowl may have lived in the cupboard beside the stove.

The quilt may have been on the guest-room bed.

The chair may have stood beside a particular window.

Write that down.

If the object is still in its familiar place, photograph it there before moving it.

How was it used?

This is where an heirloom can stop being an artifact and become part of a life.

Did someone use it every day?

Only on special occasions?

For their work?

For a hobby?

At Christmas?

When traveling?

Was it something children weren't allowed to touch?

Was it brought out whenever visitors came?

Was it repaired again and again because someone didn't want to replace it?

The use may tell us more about the person than the object itself.

Why was it kept?

Sometimes this question has an answer nobody thought to record.

Perhaps it was expensive.

Perhaps it was useful.

Perhaps it was beautiful.

Perhaps someone made it.

Perhaps it reminded them of another person.

Perhaps it marked an important moment.

Perhaps it simply remained in the same drawer for sixty years.

And sometimes nobody knows.

Don't invent a reason because an object seems as though it ought to have one.

“We don't know why the family kept this” is information too.

What memories are attached to it?

Ask people what they remember.

Not:

What is the official story of this object?

Simply:

Do you remember this?

Perhaps someone remembers being allowed to wind the clock.

Someone else remembers their grandmother wearing the necklace.

Another remembers their father using the tool.

Someone remembers being wrapped in the quilt when they were sick.

Those memories don't have to agree or combine into one definitive account.

They belong beside one another.

Who might know more?

Write down the names of people who may know something.

An aunt.

An older cousin.

A family friend.

A former neighbor.

Someone who worked alongside the person.

You don't have to contact everyone immediately.

But recording who might know can be almost as useful as recording what is already known.

Years from now, someone else may know where to continue.

Photograph the whole object

Take a clear photograph showing what the object looks like.

You don't need special equipment.

A phone is usually enough.

Use good light.

If possible, photograph it against a simple background.

Then take another photograph showing its size or shape clearly if that isn't obvious from the first.

The purpose isn't to make it look beautiful.

It's to make it recognizable.

Then photograph the details

Turn it over.

Look underneath.

Open it if it safely opens.

Look inside.

Photograph:

Names.

Dates.

Inscriptions.

Signatures.

Labels.

Maker's marks.

Serial numbers.

Stamps.

Handwriting.

Repairs.

Unusual features.

If there is something you think another person might someday use to identify or understand the object, preserve an image of it.

Don't hide the wear

A scratch.

A repaired handle.

A worn corner.

A patch in a quilt.

A faded inscription.

A dent.

These may look like imperfections.

But sometimes they are evidence of use.

An object that passed through someone's hands for forty years probably shouldn't look new.

The marks may be part of its story.

Photograph what belongs with it

Some objects have companions.

A box.

A receipt.

A certificate.

A handwritten note.

An instruction booklet.

A photograph showing someone using or wearing it.

A letter explaining where it came from.

Don't automatically separate these things.

Photograph them together.

And if possible, keep a record that they belong together even if they eventually need to be stored separately.

Preserve handwriting as handwriting

If someone wrote something about the object, photograph the original.

You can transcribe it too.

That may make it easier to read, search, or share.

But keep both.

A typed sentence can preserve the words.

The original preserves the handwriting in which someone chose to write them.

Separate what you know from what you've been told

This is particularly important with objects that have travelled through several generations.

Families tell stories.

Over time, details can become uncertain.

There is nothing wrong with preserving family recollection.

Just preserve it as recollection.

Instead of:

Great-grandfather carried this watch through the First World War.

you might write:

The family has always said that this was Great-grandfather's watch and that he carried it during the First World War. We have not verified that.

That doesn't weaken the story.

It preserves it more carefully.

Don't turn uncertainty into certainty

You may encounter an object everyone believes belonged to a particular person.

But nobody is completely sure.

Keep the uncertainty.

Possibly belonged to...

We think this came from...

Family recollection says...

The inscription appears to read...

We don't yet know...

Future research may answer the question.

Or it may remain unanswered.

Both are okay.

Record someone's explanation in their own voice

If someone knows the story well, consider recording them talking about it.

Put the object in front of them.

Ask what they remember.

A two-minute phone recording may preserve details you would never think to write down.

It may also preserve something else:

their voice telling the story.

If they are comfortable being recorded, let them speak naturally.

You don't need to turn it into an interview.

Give the object a simple story record

You don't need a database.

A sheet of paper can be enough.

For each object, record whatever you know:

Object:
What is it?

People:
Who owned, made, used, gave or received it?

Place:
Where did it come from? Where was it kept or used?

Time:
When was it made, received or used? Approximate dates are fine.

Story:
Why was it kept? What memories are associated with it?

Evidence:
Are there inscriptions, labels, photographs, letters or documents connected with it?

Uncertainty:
What has been passed down as family recollection rather than established fact?

People to ask:
Who might know more?

Current home:
Who has the object now?

That's enough.

If more becomes known later, add it.

Keep the record with the object when you can

A beautifully documented history isn't much help if nobody knows it exists.

If appropriate, place a copy with the object.

Perhaps inside its box.

Inside an archival sleeve.

In a labeled envelope.

Or keep a digital copy and make sure the person receiving the object knows where it is.

Be careful not to attach labels, tape or ink directly to delicate or historically significant objects.

The goal is to connect the information without damaging the thing you're trying to preserve.

Keep a copy somewhere else too

Stories can disappear from objects more than once.

A note gets lost.

A box is thrown away.

A label falls off.

Someone inherits the object but not the folder that explained it.

If the story matters, consider keeping another copy.

A photograph folder.

A family document.

A shared archive.

A notebook.

Whatever works for your family.

The method matters less than making the connection recoverable.

If you pass it on, pass the story too

This may be the most important part.

Imagine receiving a watch in a box.

Then imagine receiving the same watch with a note:

This belonged to your great-grandfather, Thomas Reed. Your grandmother remembered him winding it every evening before bed. We believe his father gave it to him when he turned twenty-one, although we have never been able to confirm that. It sat in the top drawer of his dresser for as long as your mother can remember.

It's the same watch.

But it isn't quite the same inheritance.

The story traveled with it.

The object may eventually disappear

Even carefully preserved things don't last forever.

They are lost.

Broken.

Sold.

Donated.

Divided among families.

Damaged by time.

Sometimes nobody in the next generation wants them.

That's part of why recording what we know matters.

The physical object may continue.

It may not.

But a photograph, a name, a memory and a few sentences can preserve something that otherwise would have disappeared with it.

Let the story travel with the thing

Choose one family object.

You don't need to begin with the most important one.

Put it in front of you.

Photograph it.

Turn it over.

Look for names and marks.

Write down whose it was.

Ask why it was kept.

Ask someone what they remember.

Record what is certain.

Preserve what is uncertain.

And write down where the object goes next.

If the object travels to someone else, let the story travel with it.

A place to continue

You don't need a special system to record the story of a family object.

A note kept with it may be enough.

A few photographs and a document.

A recording on your phone.

A family archive.

A notebook.

What matters is keeping enough information connected to the object that someone later can understand more than simply who it belonged to.

If an object opens a larger memory about a person, place or part of family life, that story may be worth preserving too.

My Life Story by Ember is one place where those memories can be gathered in writing, photographs, voice and video.

Explore My Life Story →