When Danielle Carroll stepped with her grandmother into the small, silver trailer in early September, she didn’t anticipate quite so many surprises. The cozy space with its cushioned orange benches and tiny coffee-shop-like counter beckoned her and her grandmother toward the microphones hanging from the wall. The recording started as Carroll interviewed her grandmother, Emelene Welch, for her life story.

The Seattle residents were visiting the StoryBooth, one of two trailers that are traversing the country to collect and share the oral histories of Americans. The trailers are soundproof recording booths on wheels and are part of a groundbreaking oral-history project called StoryCorps.

“I had been listening to the stories – I’m an avid KUOW (Seattle’s local NPR station) listener. . . . They’d been playing excerpts (of StoryCorps’ oral histories) on the morning edition on Fridays,” Carroll said. “I couldn’t even get out of the car – they were absolutely riveting.

“You know when (President) Roosevelt tried to document history through photographers? This is really the next step. So I thought, holy cow, I have to be a part of this!”

The project is the brainchild of MacArthur Fellow David Isay and his nonprofit documentary company, Sound Portraits Productions (SPP), based in New York City. SPP set up its first recording booth in Grand Central Station in 2003 to record the stories of the families and friends of the victims of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. The company launched its national oral-history project in May of this year, and dispatched two mobile StoryBooths to collect oral histories from people across the country. So far, the mobile StoryBooths have traveled to 23 cities. They will begin a second cross-country tour early next year.

“StoryCorps gives a voice to everyday people, and allows them to share their lives in a way that may have not otherwise been possible,” said Gillian Kocher, spokeswoman for StoryCorps. “A StoryCorps interview is an opportunity to ask the questions that never get asked because the occasion never arises.”

Interviewers and their subjects are encouraged to converse naturally and see what anecdotes emerge and where they take the 40-minute interview. This has allowed the company to produce an array of unique personal histories. One history might focus on a significant moment, while another history might recount a person’s entire life. Trained facilitators are present during the interviews to help in the process and operate the digital recording equipment. All of the interviews will be archived in the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress.

Danielle Carroll interviewed her grandmother, Emelene Welch, when the StoryBooth came to the Seattle Center. Carroll said she always thought her grandmother was an enigma: “At 97, she is so phenomenally young.”

Seattle resident Orlando Morales learned of StoryCorps through the Friday show on NPR and wanted to participate. With the assistance of his aunt, Elgie Camilon, Morales conducted a remarkable interview with his Filipino grandmother, Placida Morales. Camilon and Placida Morales would discuss some things in a mix of English and Ilokano, the language spoken Placida Morales’ native island.

“I wanted that family history to be there,” Morales explained about the importance of doing a recorded interview. “I wanted to know how she felt … to get a more three-dimensional picture of it. I wanted Ilokano to be in the interview … it was important to be represented that way.”

Placida Morales moved to the United States in the 1970s to give her children more educational and career opportunities, according to her grandson. Although many of her children made the move before she immigrated, the experience once she arrived in the country still presented many surprising difficulties.

“There was still discrimination that they weren’t anticipating at all,” said Orlando Morales. Placida Morales and her family faced many other challenges while starting a new life in Seattle. In Sinait on the island of Ilocos, Placida Morales’ husband worked as a talented and versatile musician, specializing in the alto sax. They also ran a farm together. After moving to Seattle, Placida Morales took a job in hotel maintenance while her husband worked as a janitor. Their courage and hard work allowed their family to pursue great opportunities.

“In the long run . . . their grandchildren are professionals and, yeah, that makes it all worth it,” said Morales.

“Personal narratives are important to individuals and the significant to the public because they celebrate our shared humanity and collective identity,” StoryCorps spokeswoman Kocher said. Personal narratives “capture and define the stories that bond us. The process of interviewing a friend, neighbor, or family member can have a profound impact on both the interviewer and interviewee. We've seen people change, friendships grow, families walk away feeling closer, understanding each other better.”

David Isay first began to tell the stories of ordinary Americans in 1993 when he created the “first-person” documentary, a technique that allows the subject to tell his or her own story. His company SPP, Kocher said, uses “the same ‘first person’ style that takes the producer out of the story, and only presents the compelling voices of ordinary people.”

For Morales, it was important that his grandmother’s personal history educate others about his family’s culture and encourage other minorities to work on similar projects. A 21-year-old senior at the University of Washington, Morales is the cultural chair of the Filipino American Student Association (FASA). Each year, FASA organizes a display of Filipino cultural artifacts. This year, however, Morales was inspired by StoryCorps to put faces to the culture, incorporating the recorded interviews of Filipino employees and students at UW. “People’s personal histories can be just as important as these big events,” Morales said.

When people learn history entirely from textbooks and classes, Morales explained, important pieces of culture are left out, like the significance of a dance or the sentimental value of a traditional song. The biggest part of a culture can be its little details.

The “little details” were important to Carroll. During her interview with her grandmother, Welch told the story of her first trip to her parents’ native Italy. Welch was five years old when her family traveled on the sister ship to the Titanic. Welch remembered that the boat was so long, her sister thought that the boat’s furthermost lights were those of Italy in the distance.

Carroll had heard snippets of the story before, but the small details fascinated her. So did the full stories that emerged. “I didn’t realize when they came back (from Italy), they brought back a wife for one of my great grandfather’s brothers,” said Carroll.

Welch also told Carroll about her decision to become a nurse after witnessing the great influenza epidemic of 1918. “I was struck by how independent she was and the fact that here she was, a girl who was 16 and decides she wanted to be a nurse,” Carroll said.

Welch moved to Seattle to take classes in botany and attend Providence Nursing School without her parents’ permission. Welch’s photo still hangs in one of the wings of Swedish Hospital, named Providence when Welch worked there. “To me, as a single mother, (her courage) really struck me as . . . wow!” Carroll said.

Carroll said that her grandmother was just as thrilled to tell her life story as Carroll was to listen. Carroll described the StoryBooth as a safe environment and the facilitators, as friendly and welcoming. “They have all kinds of tips and tricks for what questions to ask,” Carroll said. “Once you start hearing the stories and the way things turned out, this is really a revolutionary way of getting history out to the masses.” Carroll says that her grandmother’s “worst fear is that she’ll be forgotten.” Now, Welch’s story and legacy will be remembered by her family and archived as part of the nation’s history.

“It’s such a natural evolution of history,” Carroll said. “I’m still totally amazed by it.”