How do you get the chance to interview a man whose father planted slices of bread in the ground in Greece and discovered a primitive form of penicillin? Where do you meet a fellow who was kidnapped for ransom at gunpoint in Oklahoma City? What about an Islander who avoided an interview with an IRS agent by withdrawing to his outhouse and pretending to be intoxicated?

Jay Schofield has heard all about it. A retired physical education teacher from Vineyard Haven with no previous experience as a biographer, Jay has become a memoirist for hire. He interviews clients and writes the stories of their lives in books published for their families.

It began with his father. “I got started on this project when my dad announced that he had terminal cancer back in 1990,” says Jay. “I felt we had to sit down and talk with a tape recorder. I interviewed him on a beach in Florida and we got into a lot of old memories, most of which I didn’t know. I was able to put our interview into story form and give it to him.”

Jay learned something else – he was good at asking the right questions and getting the stories down on paper in the right way. He transcribes the tapes, culls the more dynamic stories, and returns to his subjects for more information. In this way, the book begins to take shape. Like any good journalist, he probes and listens for the story that gets to the heart of the matter.

 “I was interviewing a man from Edgartown for the first time. We had known each other only about five minutes when he broke down and cried, telling me about how he felt he had let his late mother down. I felt good that this man [felt he could] cry in front of me after having met me only minutes earlier. As it turned out, he didn’t let her down at all, considering all his achievements.” A few interviews later, the man had Jay laughing so hard “that there was total silence for at least a minute while we were trying to catch our breath!”  

Jay commits two years to each book and manages several clients simultaneously. The book is written as an autobiography, with childhood memories, education, travels, employment, marriage, and children. It’s as comprehensive as the client wants it to be, with a family tree and important family photographs. “Most of the time my manuscript is in the client’s hands,” says Jay, as each transcript is reviewed, modified, and expanded by the client prior to publication.

For up to a week at a time, Jay and his wife Pat – also retired from physical education – host mainland clients who want to see the Vineyard while they work together. “They get a chance to stay on Martha’s Vineyard and my bride and I get to make new friends.”

To weave national events into his life stories, Jay delves into a library of contemporary history books. After a final review by the client and corrections by Jay, the manuscript is off to The Tisbury Printer, then bound by M.E. Pratt of Aquinnah. The client is handed ten hardcover books. The price is $9,000 ($6,000 if the subject prints it himself), with an additional fee of $1,000 ($1,500 per couple) if the clients stay at the Schofield residence for the week.
Jay has completed sixteen books and has one more underway. In 2002 he taught a class at the regional high school for aspiring memoirists. Five people signed up for the class. They studied Jay’s questionnaire, his interview techniques, and his history books. Jay continues to mentor two students as they document their lives for their children and grandchildren.

(By the way: The man whose father toyed with penicillin grew up to be a Voice of America announcer for Greece during World War II; the Oklahoma hostage managed a Safeway supermarket for many years, and he’s the person who told the story of the man who hid in the outhouse to avoid paying his taxes. The supermarket manager went on to become a successful entrepreneur as well as superintendent of schools.)

“We all have a story that matters,” says Jay. “How many times have we heard people say, ‘I wish I had done that sort of thing with my parents. They led such interesting lives. If only I had thought to do it at the time rather than after they were gone.’ Every time one of those folks dies, another personal library vanishes and the questions can’t be asked and answered. I have found that the stories being told through the interviews are very prescriptive for many people, and it is a lot of fun when they begin thinking about things they had dismissed years back, thinking no one was interested. Everyone, indeed, has a story.”