For every story, there is someone or something that preserves it.

Sometimes it’s a grandparent continuing a family tradition. Sometimes it’s a friend who remembers every detail. Sometimes it’s a photograph tucked in a drawer, a favorite book on a shelf, an object passed from one generation to the next, or a place that holds more memories than bricks and mortar.

Memories may live quietly in our minds and hearts, but there is something powerful about seeing a photograph, holding a family heirloom, hearing a familiar voice or reading a cherished story. In an instant, the past can return with remarkable clarity, bringing back the people, emotions and moments that shape us.

In a world that produces more information than ever before, the stories that stay with us are often the most personal – the most human. They remind us of who we love, what we value and how we became the people we are today.

Inspired by this year’s Human Factor Speaker Series theme, “Preserving Human Stories,” members of the College of Humanities and Social Sciences community shared stories that, to them, are worth keeping. 

Together, their reflections celebrate the memories, relationships and moments that connect us across generations and make us human.

Emily Davis

Staff
Pre-Award Specialist
Office of Research and Engagement

My parents, Barb and Bob Davis, NC State alumni, met on a blind date at the Rathskeller on Hillsborough Street in 1994. Dad was such a gentleman that Mom asked for his phone number at the end of the night. A few months later, she invited him to visit her hometown of Boston. To make the trip, Dad gave up his tickets to the 1994 Peach Bowl game — a huge sacrifice for a lifelong NC State fan. It was worth it. They got engaged, and Mom soon joined the family’s tailgating tradition. Whenever I walk along Hillsborough Street, I think about the story that brought my family together and connects me to this place. 

Talia Hallerman

Student
 Meteorology and Spanish

Last summer, I took a solo trip to New York to visit my grandparents. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve looked forward to baking raspberry tarts with my grandma whenever we’re together. My sisters and I used to fight over who would crack the eggs or mix the dough, but this time it was just the two of us. As we baked, we laughed, ate a few frozen raspberries, and reminisced about all the times we’d made them. Now, whenever a warm summer day reminds me of that trip, I think about the stories we shared in the kitchen and how those memories continue to bind me to my grandmother. 

Jessica Jameson

Faculty
Head, Department of Communication

My father was born two months after his biological father, Melvin Simon, died on D-Day. My grandmother rarely spoke of Melvin out of devotion to her second husband, Sidney Katz, who adopted my father. Years ago, at an Augusta, Georgia, airport, I called my grandma. She remembered being a switchboard operator at an Army base there, where both Melvin and Sidney were stationed. My grandpa Sidney once joked he would have fought Melvin for her. I could sense my grandmother smiling as she recounted her reply: “You wouldn’t have won.” Knowing little about Melvin, I was overcome with emotion when my father gave me Melvin’s Purple Heart this April, a symbolic way to preserve our family story.

Jack Rothacker

Alumnus
Spanish, business entrepreneurship and administration
Executive Director of Perseverancia, a nonprofit to aid a school in El Salvador

We get wrapped up in money, possessions, status and our own lives, forgetting that we are part of something bigger. At our core, we are all human. While we often say we’re the same, the reality is that the world is neither equal nor equitable. Through Perseverancia, I have met students who wonder if this school year will be their last and families who face challenges most of us never have to consider. Their stories have reminded me that compassion and opportunity can transform lives. To be human is to love, learn, grow, serve, and ensure that the stories of others are seen, heard, and not forgotten.

Chloe Webster

Student
Political Science

During my six-week internship in Nagoya, Japan, I explored the country’s business, culture and history. Visiting the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park challenged me to think beyond historical facts and statistics and instead consider the human realities behind major events. It also deepened my understanding of how historical events continue to shape communities, public memories and global conversations about peace. As someone interested in analytics, I was reminded that data can help identify problems and improve efficiency, but numbers alone rarely tell the full story. Experiences like this highlight the importance of preserving human stories and understanding the real people and communities behind the facts.