In the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in August 2005, many oral historians throughout the nation began to consider the role their methodology could serve in documenting the storm and its aftermath. Interviewing so soon after such a traumatic event creates new considerations for oral history as an approach to recording experience. The problems and possibilities of oral history as such a moment initiated a vibrant discussion on H-Oralhist and at professional meetings in the fall of 2005. This article reflects on many of the topics raised in that dialogue, including issues of historical distance, objectivity, reflection, and emotional trauma. The piece also offers an early review of the work of the Center for Oral History and Cultural Heritage at the University of Southern Mississippi to document the impact of Hurricane Katrina in Mississippi.

On a quiet spring morning, the 20th of April 1999, Columbine High School emerged from relative anonymity as a typical suburban high school and became internationally recognized as a symbol of school violence and tragic loss. As a parent whose child was in the school at the time of the attack, I struggled to make sense of the tragedy. I decided to conduct research into the experience as a way to learn lessons that might help others exposed to community-wide trauma in the future. Through modified oral history interviews of other Columbine parents in combination with other qualitative research strategies, I collected and studied stories of the events of that day and the years following. An unexpected by-product emerged from the study, for it seemed that I was not only learning about crisis response and trauma care but also offering a means for parents to gain comfort in reflecting on their own experience. This paper describes the distinct approach that I employed to create a gateway to understanding this experience. It does not explicate the findings of the Columbine study but instead explores the potential for positive outcomes for those who, by giving voice to their stories, can connect to a deeper appreciation for their own experience.

Through the perspectives of the children, this essay examines the communication between pediatric pain patients and their doctors. Based upon the oral history responses of thirty-two patients with chronic pain present for evaluation at the Pediatric Pain Clinic at UCLA, oral testimony was employed to uncover a wide range of topics related to a child's experience with pain such as family dynamics, how and when pain became a life-changing factor, coping strategies, and external sources that contribute to the child's understanding of pain. Most important, children were encouraged to explain what it was like to be in pain, not only to describe symptoms but also to share their dreams and hopes, their fears and uncertainties -- as well as the place of pain in their world.

Memories of the Vietnam War abound in the minds of those who survived it, be they veterans or civilians, Vietnamese or American. Vietnamese refugees, forced to flee their homeland after the war ended in 1975, tell particularly poignant stories of loss -- of country, of family, of tradition, and of identity. Not so the women featured in this article. During the war, they served as bargirls in Saigon, entertaining American soldiers. The stories they tell of the war paint an entirely different picture: one of good times, and camaraderie, and the exhilaration of being young and free in the city. They were able to break free from tradition and the expectations imposed on their gender because of the war, and because of that, remember the war as the best time of their lives.

After World War II, most Bulgarian Jews emigrated legally to Israel. Those who stayed had to take part in the building of socialism and integrate in a monolithic "socialist nation." Thereby they had to "forget" their ethnic identity ("aided by the state in various ways) and to become "Homo politicus" rather than "Homo ethnicus." Since 1990, a revival of Jewish identity has begun in Bulgaria. Here I explore how the women of three generations from the same family reinvent their Jewish identity in their life stories. Drawing on this particular case, I suggest an approach to the question of the interplay of individual and collective memory. I focus on family and generation as different types of collectivities influencing individual memories and self-actualizations.

Since the "greatest generation" is rapidly passing from the scene, this article maintains that the time is ripe for the oral history community to engage in a serious examination of the strengths and weaknesses of World War II veteran interviews. Using a small case study about the battle of Okinawa (April-June 1945), the essay examines some aspects of the memory quality of World War II veterans interviewed late in life. It presents three arguments. First, American veterans of World War II were frequently reticent about recounting their memories. They often waited until late in life to do so. Second, the American World War II veterans' interviews were generally reliable and accurate even when given late in life. Nonetheless, some problems were encountered in interviewing veterans long after a battle. Third, the veterans could provide greater detail about their initial experiences during a campaign. Recollections about their later experiences during the same campaign were foggier. The author concedes, however, that the small size of his case study means that the conclusions can only have validity if confirmed by the experience of other oral history interviewers. Hence the author's goal is to initiate this important conversation rather than to conclude it.

The Pacific War and the Japanese Occupation were traumatic periods in the lives of people now over seventy years old in Malaysia and Singapore. This study traces why individuals interviewed for oral history of the Pacific War and the Japanese Occupation have often been able to tell stories of trauma without being overwhelmed by their reminiscences. It emphasizes that memories of traumatic experiences of the Pacific War and the Japanese Occupation in Malaysia and Singapore are mediated and eased by supportive social networks that are part of the interview subject's community. The individual's personal memories of traumatic war experiences are positioned in the context of the collective memory of the group and, thus, are made easier to recall. However, for individuals whose personal memories are at variance with the collective memory of the group they belong to, recalling traumatic experiences is more difficult and alienating as they do not have the support in their community. The act of recalling traumatic memories in the context of the collective memory of a group is particularly relevant in Malaysia and Singapore. These countries have a long history of being plural societies, where although the major ethnic groups -- the Malays, Chinese, and Indians -- have lived side by side peacefully, they have lived in culturally and socially separate worlds, not interacting much with the other groups. The self -- identity of many older people who lived through the Pacific War and the Japanese Occupation is inextricably bound up with their ethnicity. Oral history on war trauma strongly reflects these identities.

The experience, "voice," and perceptions of the "individual refugee" is conspicuous by its virtual absence from academic research. The few studies dealing with black adn minority ethnic experiences from an emic perspective in relation to mental health do not specifically refer to refugees or asylum seekers. This article explores the use of oral history techniques when researching Ethiopian forced migrants in the U.K. Based on two pilot research projects which explored Ethiopian culture and experience in reference to mental health adn well-being, it will focus on some of the complexities and challenges encountered. This article acknowledges the need for an understanding of cultural traditions as well as history and experience when planning and implementing such research as this proved to be an essential part of the research process, ensuring that individual stories and truths were allowed to evolve. The oral history approach for this research therefore ensured that the experiential knowledge of the Ethiopian forced migrant participants was given space, authenticity, and validity.

Oral history has been an indispensible tool in documenting the lives of those previously invisible from broad historical movements of people. "The Oral History Review" has been among the major vehicles for the inclusion of women's voices. The migration of white southerners is well documented in historical literature. However, most historical accounts of the postwar urban migration of millions of whites from the South have focused on the male experience. While women are conspicuously absent from discussions of the southern Diaspora, Appalachian women as subjects of research are even more obscure. In this article, the voices of Appalachian women are at the center of the migration experience to Uptown, Chicago. In addition to secondary sources, the content of personal interviews reveals how Appalachian women responded to the demands of migration and urban life in postwar Chicago.

In recent years, oral history has been celebrated by its practitioners for its humanizing potential, and its ability to democratize history by bringing the narratives of people and communities typically absent in the archives into conversation with that of the political and intellectual elites who generally write history. And when dealing with the narratives of ordinary people living in conditions of social and political stability, the value of oral history is unquestionable. However, in recent years, oral historians have increasingly expanded their gaze to consider intimate accounts of extreme human experiences, such as narratives of survival and flight in response to mass atrocities. This shift in academic and practical interests begs the questions: Are there limits to oral historical methods and theory? And if so, what are these limits? This paper begins to address these questions by drawing upon fourteen months of fieldwork in Rwanda and Bosnia-Hercegovina, during which I conducted multiple life history interviews with approximately one hundred survivors, ex-combatants, and perpetrators of genocide and related mass atrocities. I argue that there are limits to the application of oral history, particularly when working amid highly politicized research settings.

In 1964, Claude and Jeanne Nolen, who were white, joined an interracial NAACP team intent on desegregating local restaurants in Austin, Texas as a test of the recently passed Civil Rights ACt. Twenty-five years later, the Nolens pleaded "no contest" in a courtroom for their continued social activism. This time the issue was not racial segregation, but rather criminal trespassing for blockading abortion clinics with Operation Rescue. The Nolens served prison sentences for direct action protests that they believe stemmed from the same commitment to Christianity and social justice as the civil rights movements. Despite its relationship to political and cultural conservatism, the anti-abortion movement since Roe v. Wade (1973) was also a product of the progressive social movements of the turbulent sixties. Utilizing oral history interviews and organizational literature, the article explores the historical context of the anti-abortion movement, specifically how the lengthy struggle for racial justice shaped the rhetoric, tactics, and ideology of the anti-abortion activists. Even after political conservatives dominated the movement in the 1980s, the successes and failures of the sixties provided a cultural lens through which grassroots anti-abortion activists forged what was arguably the largest movement of civil disobedience in American history.

Can we talk of a collective, diasporic memory? I will argue that in the case of the African-Caribbean community, there are distinctive features -- such as the need to "tell" and the need to "connect" -- which suggests that this diasporic memory is framed through identifiable cultural templates, which distinguish it from the memories of migrants.

This essay uses memory in the ancient and modern sense of the "inner life of thought" to describe the formation of generational memory in a modern professional family whose twentieth-century history has been fractured by migration, war, education, and divorce. It is about the power of feeling and law, which framed the practical freedoms of twentieth-century women's lives and introduced the modern citizen in the aftermath of universal suffrage and world war. The first part of the essay emphasizes the psychic dimension of bodily feeling and drive in the formation of memory; a dimension overlooked by oral history and social movements, yet confirmed by autobiography and memoir. My granddaughter's questions provoked resistance as well as family stories, and let me observe the thought process in a child. Social history, autobiography, and personal memory confirm the common experience of everyday life reaching back through generations of London families; folklore, commerce, and family story make narratives of dreams, hopes, terrors, and events; a child's comprehension of the outside world is grasped through curiosity, imagination, and play in which bodily feeling is as powerful as speech and prohibition to make meanings that flow between inner world and external reality. The second half of the essay reflects on Joan Riviere's description of the self. Leading British psychoanalyst, translator of Freud, writing in the 1950s, Riviere's language of the inner world resonates with the liberal social ethics -- empathy, public service, common good -- which underpinned women's and human rights mid-twentieth century and the egalitarian and reproduction reforms whose universalism has been challenged since the 1970s. Negative feeling is striking in Riviere's description of the self -- fear, shame, shock, and trauma, which are confirmed in memoir and autobiography. In contrast, liberal social democratic accounts of the time idealized English character. Today, the future uncertain, memory -- in the ancient and modern sense of the "inner eye of thought" -- is more than ever necessary for social movements as for the individual.

In October of 2005 the Historic New Orleans Collection initiated an oral history project entitled "Through Hell and High Water: New Orleans, August 29 - September 15, 2005." The intent of the project was to capture the stories of first responders who worked in the New Orleans metropolitan area during the storm and the weeks that followed. The interview process has been linked with the after-action studies done by some of the local first-responding agencies and has provided a much-needed outlet for first responders. To date over three hundred subjects have been interviewed, and our work thus far has shown us that top-down methods of documentation do not work with an event like Katrina. The almost total loss of communications made it impossible for high-ranking members of the different agencies to control or even know what lower-ranking members were doing. As a result it will be necessary to cast a wide net in our documentation effort.

Evaluators utilize a variety of qualitative and quantitative methods to assess outcomes and make recommendations; however, we were unable to find any reference in the literature regarding the incorporation of oral histories for evaluation purposes. Based on our use of oral histories to evaluate a Critical Race Theory (CRT)-based undergraduate research and mentoring program, we learned how oral histories can be used effectively-and meaningfully-for evaluations seeking a deeper understanding of the program participants' lived experiences. By sharing our (and our narrators') experiences as we delved into this new methodology, as well as lessons learned about the benefits, limitations, and considerations when incorporating oral histories into evaluations, we show how both can be adapted to honor oral history while also meeting our evaluation needs.