When my Dad was in a nursing home, some volunteers from a local parish just came in to talk with my Dad and recorded him talking about his life. They transcribed the tapes and gave us his autobiography. The stories he told the volunteers were the ones he never told us as kids. I never knew my Dad drove a bootleg liquor delivery truck.
Ordinary people that spent a large part of their life in Cincinnati would give you a pretty big population to talk with.
