The Process of Remembering: a photoblog by andrew huth

Roberta is 92.  She tells me her name and with a slight chuckle she tells me her good friends call her Burt. Roberta has seen a great deal of change within her life and around it.  Both her parents, all siblings, and all three of her children have passed.  I am always endlessly fascinated with people with the kind of longevity that Roberta has had.  I think a part of my fascination has to do with the fact that I love history and speaking with people who can give me a first hand account of things past.  These accounts seem more interesting and alive than the accounts told in textbooks.  It has been said that much of history is often told from the viewpoint of the winners.  Much like Howard Zinn’s book A People’s History of The United States, I find speaking with people like Roberta to be much more engaging.  The other reason I am fascinated with people of Roberta’s age, or for that matter people in general, is because of my love of the narrative.  It’s plain and simple—like a child I enjoy being told stories.  When you have lived as long as Roberta has, there are bound to be a story or two to share.  In this photo Roberta thoughtfully shares the story of her son’s passing.  He was a firefighter and died on the job.  He died young in his mid-thirties.  As she looks skyward, she paused and then slowly nodded and said, “Yes, I sure do miss him.”