The Liberry
No, I do not call the library the “liberry”, er, unless I feel like harassing The Commander. I have early, vague memories of being firmly corrected on that mis-pronunciation.
I posted about books yesterday and then this morning I clicked on archaeofacts like I always do when it shows up in my bloglines because archaeofacts is my Sam (archaeologist, not dog), of Hotlanta, Lansing area, and Yooperland. Of all things, she had posted about libraries. Specifically the library of her childhood. Whomp! That brought back some memories. We are sometimes in synch. Like last week with JITP and possible relatives.
My childhood library was a venerable old Carnegie library. Here is a link to a halfway decent photo of it. I think I will take my own photos the next time I am up there, which’ll be next weekend with any luck. I *think* the building is still there, although the city built a new library a number of years ago and named it Bayliss Library.
I remember going up and down the steps at the old Carnegie Library. And climbing all over the lions that you can barely see in the picture. I liked reading and books well enough but I liked playground equipment just as much and those steps and lions, etc., provided some good opportunities. I remember going to the kid section for story hour on Saturdays (?) The kid section was in the basement of the library and I can still remember that musty smell as I went down the old staircase. A woman named Bobby Kreeger* (phonetic spelling) read stories to us and I can still remember her voice. When I was really young, I checked out the book Parsley over and over and over again and I now [finally] own my own copy as an adult. Later on, I got into a biography streak and I think I checked out every blasted biography in the childrens section. I think that’s how I know the little bit of American history that I know, which is probably why I am so ill-informed, and I had crushes on the likes of Daniel Boone and Kit Carson. Which is interesting because once The Commander told me that according to some old MacMu relative that died before I was born, the MacMu family was distantly related to Daniel Boone. I’m not all that into genealogy, so I dunno. Incest is best?
Boy do I get off the track sometimes. We were allowed to take out five books at a time and we wrote down the title, author, copy number and I fergit what else on a little slip of paper (no library cards there) and handed it to the woman at the checkout desk. And yes they were always women in my memory. My academically gifted but eccentric great aunt Ann worked there for about a billion years and was paid a sniggly little pittance for her efforts.
* Bobby Kreeger? Mrs. Commander? Am I mis-remembering this? What about that Daniel Boone stuff?
May 16th, 2009 at 12:47 am
I remember filling out those cards!! Thanks for jogging my feeble memory.
May 16th, 2009 at 2:24 am
When Rey stayed the summer at the cabin he had to have a library card. So we had to mail a letter to the cabin with his name so he could demonstrate that he lived there to get a card.
May 16th, 2009 at 9:35 am
I remember those biographies! It was a gorgeous building, but not so great if you were in a wheelchair.
May 16th, 2009 at 2:43 pm
Bobby Kreeger is correct but I think the last name was spelled differently. Her husband was on the radio every morning when we were waking up – all classic – which jack and I always enjoyed. The second household item we owned was a very fine record player. When me moved to the UP we brought it with us and wore it out in the third story apartment where we lived. Our second story neighbors as well as those on the 3rd floor finally asked us to leave our door open so they could listen too. I still have most of those records.
May 16th, 2009 at 3:18 pm
grandma, keep those records!!!