Immortality and Memory

“Memory,” as George Takei puts it in They Called Us Enemy, “is a wily keeper of the past.” It shifts and moves, changing over time. Memory, as well, is the keeper of the past and the means of immortality. It’s the act of remembering that connects us to those whom we have never personally met, not just with people that we tangibly interacted with in our day to day lives. Even though we have never met, memory brings us in contact with one another. This occurs all around us. Literature and recordings, for me, are the prime examples. I never met Lillian Smith in person, yet I feel like I know her and I have an image of her that I, through her writings, speeches, and recordings, have conjured in my head. She exists, even though her physical form no longer treads upon the earth.

About two years ago, I was digging through some things at the Lillian E. Smith Center, looking through a closet with a bunch of boxes. As I dug, I came across various records and reel-to-reel tapes that contained everything from events at Laurel Falls Camp to Smith, gathered with Paula Snelling and others, reading and talking about The Journey (1954). These recordings show a new side to Smith, one where she is interacting, uninhibited, with others, a side that adds to the ever changing image of Smith within my own mind, my own memory of her.