Charlie Johnson, a resident of Entriken, Pennsylvania for 95-years, is well-known for his knowledge of local heritage.  All who visit his living room for a chat, leave with a greater understanding of why the past has value and should be saved and shared.  

Charlie and I have worked together to assemble several stories about Entriken's heritage.  He provides the rich memories - names - places - images - stories - reflections - perspective,  and I provide the computer, software programs, and StoryTrax.com connections.  We make a good team.

Always known as the local historian, Charlie appreciates what StoryTrax provides for him personally and for present and future story writers.  He has reviewed the stories we published together, and he marvels that the world can share his memories as easily as someone sitting on his living room couch.

Like many people, myself included, Charlie never tries to figure out technology.  He accepts the lap top computer and other 20th and 21th century inventions in much the same way he accepted all the other new gadgets that have come to be during his life -  television, space travel, teflon, movie cameras, video phones, and the cake mix.  By the way, prior to 1949, all cakes were made from scratch! 

If you read a previous story about Charlie, Somethings you can't forget, you know that Charlie has a special connection to a poem from his youth - Maud Muller by John Greenleaf Whittier.  He asked me to record him reciting the poem and I was willing.

Today, I returned to Charlie's living room couch to let him see the video I captured.  He watched without saying a word, or once looking away from the computer monitor.  Mentally, Charlie had travelled to another time and I could not go along. He quietly mouthed the verses as his video image recited all 804 words.  When it was over, he returned to Entriken, slumped back into his chair, and said, "my oh my."

I have been told that when it comes to Charlie Johnson and that poem, that there is something deeply personal about it. His amazing recall was the focus of my first story, but not this time. 

Something in his past becomes very vivid to Charlie every time he recites those words. I saw it in his tear- filled eyes, heard it in his voice, and felt it when he shook my hand and thanked me as we parted.

At some point in our lives, all we will have are memories.  I trust some of yours will be as precious as Charlies' are to him.

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