Carol Miller and Marge Klindera

Marge Klindera spent decades teaching home economics to Illinois middle and high school students. As she was transitioning into retirement, she began looking for other ways to share her years of knowledge and experience. In 1983, she began working at a seasonal call center—answering questions from those needing last-minute information on cooking a turkey.

Each Thanksgiving, for more than 30 years, Butterball has run their Turkey Talk-Line. Operating from October to December, trained professionals like Marge answer thousands of turkey-related questions from home cooks across the United States and Canada.

At StoryCorps, Marge (pictured above right), 79, sat down with her longtime coworker, Carol Miller (pictured above left), 68, to remember some of the best callers they have had, as well as some of the best advice they have dished out.

Originally aired November 27, 2015, on NPR’s Morning Edition.

Barry Romo

Barry Romo (above left) grew up in a tight-knit family in Southern California in the 1950s. The youngest of his siblings, he spent his childhood surrounded by a niece and nephews of a similar age.

Barry was particularly close with one of his nephews, Robert, known to everyone as Bobby (above right). Bobby was just a month younger than Barry and Barry considered Bobby to be another brother.

During the Vietnam War, Barry enlisted in the Army and Bobby was drafted. Only one of them came home. Private First Class Robert Romo was killed in action in 1968. First Lieutenant Barry Romo was chosen to escort his body home.

Barry came to StoryCorps to remember his nephew.

After Bobby’s death, Barry did not return to Vietnam, he was reassigned to a post in the United States to serve out the remainder of his commitment.

Today Barry is an active member of Vietnam Veterans Against the War.

Originally aired November 6, 2015, on NPR’s Morning Edition.

Photos courtesy of Barry Romo and Beverly Mendoza.

Tom Howard and Bill O’Hara

For 167 years at the Chicago Board of Trade Building, you could find traders in the Chicago Mercantile Exchange’s Futures Pits jockeying for position and shouting orders for wheat, cattle, and corn.

But on July 6, 2015, that way of doing business came to an end when the Futures Pits closed for good.

Many young men from nearby working-class neighborhoods found their way into the financial industry at the Board of Trade.

Tom Howard (left) and Bill O’Hara (right) both worked as traders there, and recently came to StoryCorps to remember how they got started.

Originally aired July 6, 2015, on NPR’s Morning Edition.

Doug Neville and Ryan Johnson

Doug Neville (left) and Ryan Johnson (right) met in 1986, shortly before Doug was diagnosed as HIV-positive.

At StoryCorps, they talk about their three decades of friendship and how Doug’s diagnosis has shaped their perspectives on life.

Originally aired December 21, 2014 on NPR’s Weekend Edition Sunday.

Dekalb Walcott Jr. and Dekalb Walcott III

Dekalb Walcott Jr. spent more than 30 years as a firefighter for the Chicago Fire Department.

He’s now retired, but his son, Dekalb Walcott III, is following in his dad’s line of work. At StoryCorps, Dekalb III talks about how becoming a firefighter meant fulfilling a lifelong dream.

Dekalb Walcott III also wrote and recorded a song, “It’s a Callin’,” about his career. Listen to it here:

Originally aired July 4, 2014, on NPR’s Morning Edition.

Carlos Rocha

When StoryCorps visited Danville Correctional Center in Illinois, one of the inmates who told his story was Carlos Rocha.

Carlos grew up in Chicago, and he, like his brothers, joined a gang. In 1998, he was arrested for weapons possession. Just before he was to be released on bond, Carlos got into a fight with another inmate and killed him. He was sentenced to 24 more years behind bars.

Originally aired May 16, 2014, on NPR’s Morning Edition.

Frank Tempone and Jack Tempone

In 2009, Frank Tempone (left) was severely depressed. As a result of what he calls a mid-life crisis, Frank left his wife and three kids to go live on his own.

After two years apart, Frank reunited with his family. He brought his oldest son, Jack (right), to StoryCorps to apologize.

Originally aired May 2, 2014, on NPR’s Morning Edition.

Voices from StoryCorpsU: Justin

“I had to give her a baby Heimlich maneuver because she’s not old enough for a real Heimlich maneuver.”

Justin, a student at Corliss High School in Chicago, Illinois, made this StoryCorpsU (SCU) recording during the 2012-2013 school year.*

Read Justin’s story below:

Hello, this is Justin. Today I will be telling you a story about how I had to save my baby sister’s life. It was, I think, maybe 4 years ago. She was a baby back then, and I had to keep her from eating a cotton ball. A cotton ball—I know. Don’t ask me how she got ahold of cotton balls because I don’t know either. That day I had to babysit her and her big sister, who is my little sister. Everything was going smoothly, we were all all right, and nothing was going wrong. Then, you know, she’s a baby, and the cotton balls caught her attention. You know what a baby does when something catches their attention—she put it in her mouth. She had to see if it was edible I guess.

I’m in the room, playing my game, and all of a sudden, I look over to her and she’s coughing, and she’s coughing, and she’s coughing, and she’s coughing. Then, you know, because she was a baby, I had to give her the baby Heimlich maneuver. I had to give her a baby Heimlich maneuver because she’s not old enough for a real Heimlich maneuver. I had to pick her up, flip her over on her stomach, put her on my knee and rub her back really softly then pat it every few seconds. Then once it got up to her throat, and her throat wasn’t that big back then, I had to actually stick my fingers down and get the cotton out, but I could only get a little bit.

I’m still patting her back when my grandma finally walks into the room and asks, “What happened? What happened? How did this happen? How could you let this happen?” I’m only like 11 years old, 10 years old back then and I didn’t even know how to handle it. I tried my hardest, I was patting her back and I was rubbing and then I was reaching in her mouth trying to get it out of her mouth. It kept on seeming like she was trying to resist me, and she kept on trying to put it back down her throat. I had to pat it and pat it and rub it and rub it and rub it out until I had to hand her over to my grandmother. My grandmother was a nurse, just as my mother is. My mother wasn’t there at the time we were babysitting, so my grandmother knew what to do.

She grabbed her and pulled her. I don’t know how to describe it, but she did the same thing that I did but she rubbed the back of her throat and then she told me to put my hand in her mouth and pulled the cotton out. I almost touched her tonsils. I had to get my hand that deep in her throat. I had my hand pretty deep in her mouth, with slop and blood all over my hands. Eventually it finally happens that the cotton ball decided to cough and fall into my hand with the blood. She started breathing back to normal, but my mother came to the house and she was panicking, and she still had to take her to the emergency room like a mother would. She took her to the emergency room because it was her baby and she had to check and see what was wrong with her baby. She took her there and the doctor had to put my little sister to sleep and get the cotton out of her throat by putting some sort of tube down her throat and sucking all the cotton out of her throat up through her stomach. It’s like a little tube, without pulling her intestines out, and they looked inside with a little flash light type thing to see if there was any cotton left or anything that wasn’t supposed to be in there. They found out that everything was all right with her. She was fine.

*This story was recorded at the conclusion of the “Where We’re From” SCU unit, in response to one or more of the following prompts:

• Tell a story about someone who has had a significant impact on your life.

• Tell a story about a place that is important to you. Paint a picture of the place and talk about why it’s important to you.

• Tell a story about an accomplishment or event from you past that had a significant impact on you.

Celeste Davis-Carr and Aaron

In 2013, Aaron, a freshman at Corliss High School on the South Side of Chicago, was living on the streets.

Celeste Davis-Carr, Aaron’s teacher, learned that he was homeless through a recording he made while his English class was participating in StoryCorpsU, a former program of StoryCorps Education.

A year later, they sat down to make another recording for StoryCorps.

Aaron’s last name and photo were withheld at the request of his foster care agency.

Originally aired March 7, 2014, on NPR’s Morning Edition.

Lionel D’Luna, Adrienne D’Luna Directo and Debra D’Luna

Alexis D’Luna had CHARGE Syndrome, a rare, life-threatening genetic condition that causes a number of birth defects. Alexis was intellectually disabled, legally blind and had hearing problems. She stood just under 5 feet tall because of deformities in her legs and back.

Many children with CHARGE don’t live beyond infancy, but Alexis lived to be 25. She died in her sleep in December 2012.

Her parents, Debra and Lionel D’Luna, came to StoryCorps with her sister, Adrienne, to remember her.

Originally aired January 24, 2014, on NPR’s Morning Edition.