Your parents remember things nobody else does.
Get occasional email on recording family stories — before the window closes.
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The questions people ask before they sit a parent down and press record. Answered plainly, in one place.
Pick one person and one afternoon. Sit your mum or dad by a window, prop your phone on a few books, and ask one open question about their early life. Then stay quiet and let them talk. Half an hour is plenty. Below are the questions people ask before they begin, answered plainly.
The plain meaning of the words — oral history, a legacy recording, how it differs from a family tree.
A family story archive is a private record of an older relative’s life told in their own voice, kept as video and audio you can search and share. It is oral history, not genealogy: the point is the person telling it, not a chart of names and dates.
See how it works →A legacy recording is a filmed or audio conversation where a parent or grandparent tells their own stories, in their own words and accent, kept for the family who come after. One afternoon of your dad talking about the street he grew up on is a legacy recording.
Genealogy builds the tree: names, dates, records, who came from whom. Oral history records the person: why they left the village, what the kitchen smelled like, the argument nobody talks about. A tree tells you your grandfather existed. Oral history lets your children hear him say your name.
StoryWorth emails weekly writing prompts, then prints the typed answers as a book. It is words on a page. A voice recording keeps the actual sound of your mother telling the story, her pauses and her laugh, which a printed sentence cannot hold. Different thing, different keepsake.
StoryWorth vs recording their voice →The practical how — what to ask, how to film on a phone, recording a parent in another language, what happens after.
Pick one person and one afternoon. Sit them by a window for soft light, prop your phone on a few books at eye level, and press record. Bring three or four open questions, ask one, then stay quiet. Half an hour is plenty. Come back another Sunday for more.
The first-interview guide →Ask open ones that reach back: tell me about your grandparents; where did you play as a child; which friends do you remember; when did you meet your someone; what are you grateful for. Ask one, then let the silence do the work. The pause is where the real answer comes from.
50 questions to ask your parents →Record them in their own language, not yours. A story told in Cantonese or Welsh carries feeling that translation flattens. Film the whole conversation as normal, in whatever language sits easiest, even if the household mixes two. We transcribe and translate afterwards, so the original voice stays and the family can still read along.
Your phone films better video than a TV crew carried thirty years ago. Wipe the lens, turn the phone sideways on a small stand or a stack of books, sit close so it hears them clearly, and keep the window in front of them rather than behind. That is the whole setup.
Do not announce a big interview. Start with a photograph or an old object and ask what it was. Record from the first question so nothing is lost while they warm up. Ask about other people, not themselves, since most of us talk more freely about our mother than about us. Keep it short.
Questions that open a reluctant parent up →Send them to one place the whole family can always reach. We transcribe every session so it becomes searchable by name, place and year, keep the video safe and private, and let you share it with a brother in another city or a daughter across the country. You record; the sorting is ours.
What happens after you record →Voice against the other options — StoryWorth, a printed book, a genealogy site.
StoryWorth turns typed answers into a printed book, which suits a parent who likes to write. Recording keeps the voice itself: the accent, the laugh, the way they say your name. A book preserves the words. Only a recording preserves the person saying them. Many families end up doing both.
StoryWorth is American and posts a printed book. If you are in the UK, Australia, New Zealand or Singapore and want the voice rather than a typed book, Family Legacy records video and audio, transcribes it, and works across languages like Mandarin, Cantonese, Tamil and Welsh. No shipping, no writing homework.
StoryWorth vs Family Legacy, compared →A written book is lovely to hold and reads aloud well. A recording holds what writing cannot: sound, face, timing, the accent your grandchildren would otherwise never hear. Paper can fade or go missing in a house move; a backed-up archive does not. Record first, and you can still make the book later.
Ancestry and similar sites build the family tree from records and dates. Family Legacy records the living person telling their own life. One gives you a chart of ancestors; the other lets your children hear their grandmother laugh. They sit side by side: the tree for the facts, the archive for the voice.
The honest read on whether to bother, whether it is too late, and whether a phone is good enough.
Ask anyone who has lost a parent whether they would give a great deal to hear that voice again. Almost all say yes, and almost none have a recording. An afternoon now costs a Sunday and a pot of tea. Not doing it costs the one thing you can never get back later.
For a parent who enjoys writing and wants a printed book, StoryWorth does that job well. If what you actually want is their voice and face, a typed book will feel like the wrong thing the moment they are gone. Decide which you would rather have in twenty years, then choose.
The honest StoryWorth comparison →If they can still tell a story, it is not too late. A short, gentle session beats a perfect one that never happens. Even a parent with failing health or early dementia often lights up on the childhood stories long after recent days blur. Start with one question this week.
Yes. In good window light a modern phone looks more than good enough, and in twenty years nobody will grade the framing. They will be too busy hearing the voice. An honest, slightly wobbly recording of your real father beats a polished film of no one. Sound matters most, so sit close.
The common problems — a parent who will not open up, bad sound, a family that will not sit down, recording through dementia.
Usually because it feels staged. A pointed camera and a big question make anyone freeze. Put the phone to one side, start with a photo or an old story, and let him forget it is recording. Ask about his parents rather than himself. Warmth comes once the interview stops feeling like one.
Almost always the room, not the phone. Hard, empty rooms bounce sound; sit in a soft one with a rug, a sofa and curtains. Put the phone within a metre so it hears the voice, not the ceiling. Turn off the television and any fan. Sound carries the story, so protect it first.
Because “record Grandma’s whole life” sounds like a project no one has time for. Shrink it. Propose one half-hour, one Sunday, one question, on a phone. Do the first one yourself and share it. A single warm clip moves families faster than any amount of asking, because now they can see the point.
Often yes, and it is worth doing sooner rather than later. The oldest stories, childhood and youth, tend to stay long after recent ones fade, and a familiar song or photograph can open them up. Keep sessions short and unpressured, follow their lead, and record whatever comes. Every fragment in their own voice is worth holding.
Record a conversation this month. We transcribe it, keep it private to your family, and make it searchable for the people who come after.
More to read: the first-interview guide · the journal