Love this piece....especially the description of the book fridge in the room with the bare lightbulb. It's delicious that you conspired with your children to be book lovers.
I totally love this piece. It's a story about collecting stories and letting them inform and form who we become, and in your case much of that collecting was quite literal! I look forward to more of your storytelling. And God Bless Robert, the library cop, wherever he may be.
Hi, From a book and library lover - this is a wonderful story. Books have always been and continue to be my friend. As a youngster, I remember walking to the library - probably two miles round trip once or twice a week during the summer to report to Ms. Knox, the librarian, what books I read so I could get credit in the book club.
In so few words, you provide a detailed and beautiful image of your household, your children, and books tucked away in every imaginable corner of the house. The book fridge is hilarious!! I too have a collection of Narnia in the basement, once treasured by my daughter and awaiting a visit from my grandchildren. I love this story!
We were five siblings, separated by only seven years from oldest to youngest. We lived in the country amongst grape vineyards outside our small farming town in the Big Valley in central California. We got around in a VW micro-bus. My spot was the "way-back", over the engine; no seat, so I was normally laid out, looking straight up and out the back window. There was no TV in our house, so reading and books played a large role in our home, along with records, the big vinyl kind. We got magazines; I remember Time Magazine, US News and World Report, the National Geographic, Sunset, several others as well as two newspapers. On Saturday's we'd all load up in the bus and head into town to the Carnegie Library in the old central part of town. We'd stay there all morning. It was deathly silent. I learned how to use the Dewy decimal system whereby the books were organized in the card file. One could check out five books for 7 days at a time. I never failed to find five books. We learned to know the librarians by name and they learned our interests and preferences. We also checked out records, usually unusual stuff like Slavic dances. At home we had two different multi-volume encyclopedias in which we looked up subjects of all manner and an absolutely huge record collection of every conceivable kind of music. We literally wore some of them out from playing them over and over. Scratching a record was a capital offense. The library also had a book mobile that visited our grade school where you could also check out books. Books were a vehicle to escape to any part of the world, known or imaginary, and our imaginations supplied what Hollywood didn't back then.
Thank you Paula. Your story transported me back to those days when libraries were my world. When books were treated with reverence. Your retrospective fondness for Robert was beautifully expressed.
This reminded me of my Saturday afternoon trips to the library when I was a kid. We were allowed to checkout no more than 14 books at a time. Sometime around 5th grade I put down Nancy Drew and found John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee series. Age appropriate books were on the top and bottom, Travis books were hidden in the middle. Back then the librarian checked the books out and rarely made a peep, except to remind me of the due date.
About a month after discovering the adult section my mother got a call from the librarian. She ratted me out. After that my mother monitored what I checked out from then on into 7th grade. It was also the before and after that I stopped caring about school and found ways to sit in the library to read during my free time.
Today the library is my happy place, whether joy or sorrow controls the day, the library is always in the backdrop.
this story is about the righteousness and blessedness of books which brings out the best in people , a mom wanting to nurture her children with books and a cop librarian using an honorable approach in "rehousing" them. Wish the strategy implied in this parable could be translated into other domains in this world!
What a great story. I married a John -Lennon-glasses-wearing librarian 40 years ago and our lives have revolved around books. We share your love if books hard to let go.
The value of books - the power of a personal story - the grace of well considered words - all contained here - reminding me of why I read and encouraging me to read a bit more than I do.
Love this piece....especially the description of the book fridge in the room with the bare lightbulb. It's delicious that you conspired with your children to be book lovers.
All of these comments are spot on. Thought I’d add a quote from an author you and your family may have loved as well.
“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten”.
Neil Gaiman, Coraline
A glorious piece of writing. I love all the characters, especially the smartass son. Thank you for this.
What a lovely essay.
And we can use more Roberts - people with kindness and understanding.
I totally love this piece. It's a story about collecting stories and letting them inform and form who we become, and in your case much of that collecting was quite literal! I look forward to more of your storytelling. And God Bless Robert, the library cop, wherever he may be.
Hi, From a book and library lover - this is a wonderful story. Books have always been and continue to be my friend. As a youngster, I remember walking to the library - probably two miles round trip once or twice a week during the summer to report to Ms. Knox, the librarian, what books I read so I could get credit in the book club.
In so few words, you provide a detailed and beautiful image of your household, your children, and books tucked away in every imaginable corner of the house. The book fridge is hilarious!! I too have a collection of Narnia in the basement, once treasured by my daughter and awaiting a visit from my grandchildren. I love this story!
We were five siblings, separated by only seven years from oldest to youngest. We lived in the country amongst grape vineyards outside our small farming town in the Big Valley in central California. We got around in a VW micro-bus. My spot was the "way-back", over the engine; no seat, so I was normally laid out, looking straight up and out the back window. There was no TV in our house, so reading and books played a large role in our home, along with records, the big vinyl kind. We got magazines; I remember Time Magazine, US News and World Report, the National Geographic, Sunset, several others as well as two newspapers. On Saturday's we'd all load up in the bus and head into town to the Carnegie Library in the old central part of town. We'd stay there all morning. It was deathly silent. I learned how to use the Dewy decimal system whereby the books were organized in the card file. One could check out five books for 7 days at a time. I never failed to find five books. We learned to know the librarians by name and they learned our interests and preferences. We also checked out records, usually unusual stuff like Slavic dances. At home we had two different multi-volume encyclopedias in which we looked up subjects of all manner and an absolutely huge record collection of every conceivable kind of music. We literally wore some of them out from playing them over and over. Scratching a record was a capital offense. The library also had a book mobile that visited our grade school where you could also check out books. Books were a vehicle to escape to any part of the world, known or imaginary, and our imaginations supplied what Hollywood didn't back then.
Thank you Paula. Your story transported me back to those days when libraries were my world. When books were treated with reverence. Your retrospective fondness for Robert was beautifully expressed.
This reminded me of my Saturday afternoon trips to the library when I was a kid. We were allowed to checkout no more than 14 books at a time. Sometime around 5th grade I put down Nancy Drew and found John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee series. Age appropriate books were on the top and bottom, Travis books were hidden in the middle. Back then the librarian checked the books out and rarely made a peep, except to remind me of the due date.
About a month after discovering the adult section my mother got a call from the librarian. She ratted me out. After that my mother monitored what I checked out from then on into 7th grade. It was also the before and after that I stopped caring about school and found ways to sit in the library to read during my free time.
Today the library is my happy place, whether joy or sorrow controls the day, the library is always in the backdrop.
this story is about the righteousness and blessedness of books which brings out the best in people , a mom wanting to nurture her children with books and a cop librarian using an honorable approach in "rehousing" them. Wish the strategy implied in this parable could be translated into other domains in this world!
Mary Anne Ferguson
What a great story. I married a John -Lennon-glasses-wearing librarian 40 years ago and our lives have revolved around books. We share your love if books hard to let go.
"By this time we had grown almost fond of Robert" has to be one of the greatest lines ever. Pure gold.
The value of books - the power of a personal story - the grace of well considered words - all contained here - reminding me of why I read and encouraging me to read a bit more than I do.