Voices of the Village

Students record oral histories of the Worcester home front during World War II.

By Paul E. Kandarian

It’s one thing for a college student to take an honors seminar to fulfill requirements. It’s quite another to embrace a project so completely that the research subject becomes a part of the researcher’s life.

But that’s exactly what happened last year to seven Holy Cross students when they conducted research in Worcester’s Quinsigamond Village—a historically Swedish section of the city—as part of Assistant Professor of history Stephanie Yuhl’s course, “Presenting the Past: The Problem of Historical Memory in American Culture.” This public history class examined how history is “done” outside of traditional academic settings, such as through historic preservation, monument building, museum exhibits and documentary filmmaking.

The project, titled “The Voice of a Village,” touched the lives of the students and the 23 elderly village residents who took part in it, as the residents shared with the students what life was like on the home front during World War II.

“The idea was to encourage students to become public historians and ambassadors of Holy Cross,” Yuhl says, “by going into the community, recording oral histories, conducting supplemental secondary research and, finally, posting their findings on the Web as a kind of virtual museum exhibit.”

The students received academic credit but found friendship as a bonus, Yuhl notes—by staying in contact with some of their elderly research subjects long after the semester-long course was complete.

“What surprised me with this group of students was how quickly they developed strong relationships with the interviewees based on respect and good will,” says Yuhl, a Los Angeles native now living in Worcester, who is in her third year at Holy Cross. “These residents were very generous with us, given that we were total strangers at the project’s beginning. They shared a wealth of precious memories, artifacts, photographs and family documents that really enhanced the final product.”

In turn, her students “view Worcester so differently now,” Yuhl comments. “The city has several faces—it’s not just an unknown place beyond the gates. They have a new appreciation of Worcester’s citizens and its complex history, as well as a sense of their own belonging to it.

“You can read about history in a book and talk about it in a traditional classroom setting,” she says, “but a project like this can bring out a much richer understanding of the times as they were actually lived by certain groups of people.”

***

One problem the students initially encountered was trying to convince people who were at home during the war that they were very much part of history and had something to offer.

“They seemed hesitant at first, but once we started jogging their memories, they had a wealth of information,” says Kevin Higgins ’04, a history major from Connecticut who interned at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History in spring 2003. “By the end, they were asking about the project, asking if they could see the Web page, asking what it would be used for. These people were great.”

“I said ‘no’ at first, then said ‘what the heck’—I’ve been around long enough, maybe I could help a little,” laughs Evelyn Grahn, 85, who, during the war, was a mother and a waitress. “My 15 minutes of fame, I guess.”

Grahn talked to her interviewer about her experiences at home during the war: rationing, listening to records on a Victrola and collecting fat in a bucket to make soap. She also recalled having to buy white margarine that came with a little yellow coloring packet so wary Americans could eat something that at least approximated the butter they now had to ration.

“I dreaded the whole thing at first, but then kept talking and talking,” she says. “Pretty soon, the poor girl interviewing me was at the end of her recording tape, and I thought, ‘Gosh, I talked a lot.’ But I thoroughly enjoyed the visit.”

Caitlin Farrell ’04, a biology major from Bolton, Mass., who plans to go on to medical school, interviewed Grahn and others and got more than course credit for her efforts.

“It was totally enlightening, learning from the stories of their lives,” she says. “The things they remembered were amazing, the details, their everyday stories—like sharing meat and sugar with neighbors—and the depth of what they remembered.

“They were surprised that we were really interested. A lot said, ‘I don’t have anything to offer,’” Farrell recalls. “But once they got going, they were excited about it. It was nice for them to relive and share all that with another generation.”

“Kids growing up now don’t know about things that went on during those days,” Grahn says. “As we talked, the memories just came flowing out—it was a wonderful experience.”

Inez Russo ’03, a history major, said she took the course because she needed two honors seminars, and this one looked interesting. But in retrospect, she felt she received two benefits beyond academic credit.

“I learned a new way of conducting historical research,” she says. “And it made me confident enough to do some oral history for my senior honors thesis. But it also gave me the opportunity to get into the Worcester community, which I hadn’t done much in four years.”

After the course was completed, Yuhl hosted a breakfast get-together on campus for participants, all of whom were happy to reunite—some said they saw friends they hadn’t seen in decades.

“We’ve stayed in touch beyond the project,” Russo notes. “I wanted them to know I care about them—they were so kind in welcoming us into their homes and letting us interview them. They always gave me little presents,” she says with a laugh. “I should have been giving them presents!”

According to the students, the project involved a lot more work than they had originally anticipated—each one conducted at least three interviews that lasted up to two hours each; transcribed them; and created a project Web site, under the guidance of Mary Morrisard-Larkin of the College’s Educational Technology Group.

“The students blossomed throughout this process, intellectually and personally,” Yuhl says. “Oral history is hard to do—you have to convince people their stories are worth telling. Memories recalled years later can also be problematic as historical sources, so it is a real challenge to make good scholarly use of them.”

Yuhl explained her decision to focus on telling the stories of regular people during the war: “With The Greatest Generation (the book by Tom Brokaw about World War II), the popular commemorative focus has been on veterans and understandably so. But as a teacher of American history, I wanted students to get a fuller picture of the era—and to see that what regular people did on the home front was an integral part of the war’s story.”

***

Tony Butkus, now 88, worked at U.S. Steel and Wire in Worcester during the war, and his wife, Grace, worked at Reed Prentice. He’d tried to enlist, but he had a bad heart, so he supported the war effort by working at the plant that supplied cable for ships, earning $28.50 a week. Grace Butkus recalls long lines at the store, waiting with coupons to get provisions.

Those memories were stored away and untouched for years, they said, until Holy Cross students came knocking.

“I’m 88,” notes Grace Butkus. “And one of the things I’ve found is that my memory is better when somebody opens the door.”

For the Butkus couple, relating their histories with Russo was a trip down memory lane, giving them a chance to share a time long gone with young people whose lives are just beginning.

“I loved it, I really did,” Grace Butkus adds. “You don’t have a chance to share these things until you tell a new generation what it was like.”

Asked if they felt they were sacrificing anything during the war by having to endure rationing, she answers, “No, not at all. We understood this was our part of the war.”

Andrew DesRault ’03, an economics/political science major and chair of the Holy Cross College Republicans, took this honors course because of his general interest in history. He saw the course as unique because “I’d never approached history this way.”

It was a lot more work than he’d originally envisioned, DesRault says, but worth every minute.

“There was the personal connection we found with the interviewees. We were invited to a couple of dinners, they shared stories about family,” he says. “It was a lot more intimate than I expected. We asked about history and got involved with their lives.

“It was definitely one of the better experiences I’ve had at Holy Cross,” DesRault observes.

Valedictorian Jonathan Favreau ’03, a political science major who hopes to work on U.S. Sen. John Kerry’s presidential campaign next year before attending law school, agrees, describing the honors seminar as “one of the most rewarding experiences I have had in my four years here.

“Taking this seminar forever changed how I view the study of history,” Favreau says. “I’m a firm believer that kids at Holy Cross, to fully get their education’s worth, have to go into the community, and this was the perfect venue for that—asking people how they remember World War II, as opposed to just accepting the dominant narrative you read in history books.

“People were nervous when we started and wouldn’t talk much, but once they did, they were wonderful,” he explains. “If I can remember that much about my youth at that age, I’ll be all set. It’s amazing the detail they remember. We thought we’d be putting them off, taking their time. But they loved it and were extremely cooperative.”

***

The result of the students’ work, located at www.holycross.edu/departments/ history/syuhl/pubhist/quinsigamond/, provides a fascinating and detailed look at life in one Worcester neighborhood during World War II. The site, which includes an archive of the interview transcripts, is divided into five parts:

“Over Here, Over There,” encompasses perceptions of the enemy, war news and troop homecomings;

“People, Progress and Products: The Village Economy,” outlines women’s part in the war effort, weaponry and economics of the home front;

“Making Do: Life at Home,” includes information on rationing, blackouts, war bonds and “Daddy’s Gone to War” memories;

“Artifacts,” a pictorial collection of World War II memorabilia provided by the interviewees, contains rationing coupons, photographs and telegrams from the front—such as one from soldier Robert Erickson to his wife that reads “Darling, you are more than ever in my thoughts at this time.”;

“It Takes a Village: Community and Culture,” portrays Quinsigamond Village’s ethnic makeup, its faith, and recreational activities taking place there during the war.

Yuhl intentionally made the site accessible to anyone who surfs the Web, believing that this material is valuable to people interested in learning more about the World War II American home front.

She intends to continue teaching this type of class, which was supported by the College’s Marshall Fund for developing Worcester-based courses, as well as Holy Cross’ Donelan Office of Community-Based Learning. “For the next project, I’d like to move ahead chronologically—say to the McCarthy or Vietnam era—and outward geographically to other parts of the city.” Shrewsbury Street, Worcester’s traditionally Italian enclave, is a likely candidate. “By taking an interest in the histories of ordinary people, we are saying that, ‘Yes, you matter to the American story,’” Yuhl contends. “This approach to the study of the past says, ‘We’re all citizens. We all have something to share—we all have a stake in how our national history is told.’”

Paul Kandarian is a free-lance writer from Taunton, Mass.