Now anyone anywhere can record their story about someone who made a meaningful difference in their life.
The simple act of listening to what someone is telling us is the most profound tool to carry on a memory of that person. Before technology, that is the only way people would honor the stories of those who came before them.
Their "baby bag" of hospital supplies sat in the corner, because I was due to make an appearance at any moment. As they drifted to sleep in each other's arms, they dreamed together about who I might be in the world.
Over the weekend, I was helping a friend sort through decades -- actually almost half a century -- belongings of a woman named Doris. I never met Doris. But I learned a lot about her life and personality by spending hours in her $130 a month rent controlled fourth floor walk-up.
For anyone under 30, it may be difficult to imagine a time when the gay-rights movement wasn't operating at a milestone-a-minute pace. Fortunately a wave of artistic and media projects has emerged to remind us of heroes past, to refocus us on the type of activism that helped elevate the LGBT movement and to inspire us to make that final push.
In telling our story, our charge was to provide a sense of historical context. This tragedy was not the result of a natural disaster; 9/11 was planned and perpetrated by human beings.
I love the passion that young people have when it comes to their futures. I have met many bright kids and young adults who possess the poise, intelligence, creativity, and courage necessary to take action.
I was struck by the ripple effect that philanthropy can have on a community. Callie turned her heartbreak into positive action, and in turn, changed the lives of many children who will benefit from pediatric cancer research.
One story I've heard since childhood still chokes me up. While serving in World War II, Dad and his brother, Harold, stationed
In 2008, Gweneviere Mann suffered short-term memory loss due to a stroke that took place while doctors performed brain surgery
Hilda Chacón sat down at StoryCorps in New York City with her husband Pedro Morán-Palma to tell the story of how they met. Twenty years ago, Hilda was visiting the U.S. from her native Costa Rica... And Pedro spotted her at a party.
StoryCorps, a nonprofit oral history project, records the stories of everyday people, preserving them for future generations at the Library of Congress. The latest, pays tribute to John L. Black, Sr. It's a great tribute to all fathers.
Barbara: Yes, and it has to do with you. Out of all of my surgeries, you have always been there when I woke up. You’re the