We are a people of stories.

Whether that’s the story of how an individual’s family (or families) came to be wherever it is they are now or the story of an ancestor and how they were persecuted, met their life partner, or just lived their lives.

And while it goes without saying, sometimes it’s still important to say it – our stories are important. Even if to no one else, then to us.

Yet somehow – even with all the technology available to us – those stories are disappearing. Some by misguided choice – whether that’s the Bubbie who insists “We don’t talk about those things anymore, they’re behind us” – or sometimes simply because of the ravages of time, health, and age. And still others for hundreds of other sad, unfortunate reasons that stories disappear.

Or, perhaps most unfortunate of all, simply no one outside that person’s family has bothered to ask and those inside the family are wrongly confident that the stories will continue forever because they grew up with them and they were always around so they will always be around.

What we’re doing here is slowing that long descent into losing our collective stories – if we don’t no one else will.