Recently, I read a wonderful blog entitled, For-the-Love-of-Libraries, by John Grogan, author of the #1 international bestseller Marley & Me and the national bestselling memoir, The Longest Trip Home
Like John, I have always had a special affinity for libraries. Growing up in West Caldwell, New Jersey, we were fortunate to have two libraries, one in West Caldwell and another on the opposite side of town in Caldwell. Each library had its own unique feel, atmosphere, and smell. As long as I can remember I loved to read, and I would spend hours perusing the aisles of books. Having a library card was one of the first “adult” acts that a child experiences and I carried mine with pride. Libraries were also one of the first places that you learn responsibility because the card in the back of the book told you exactly how long you could keep the book before incurring late fees.
It was among the stacks of books at those libraries where you could escape into other worlds and for a moment; slip into another person, place, and time. The library was the vessel that fostered imagination, playing a pivotal role in developing young minds.
In college, libraries took on a different purpose. Reading for sheer pleasure took a back seat to libraries becoming repositories of study and research. Long before computers, the holy grail of libraries were the wooden file draws strategically placed and filled with index cards leading young seekers of knowledge down aisles to find that one piece of information.
Sitting on the lawn in front of the Douglass College Library at Rutgers University, my future wife and I weighed the merits of whether she should go to Rutgers or another college to which she was accepted. I helped persuade her to go to Rutgers and to this day, I cannot pass the Douglas Library without a smile and gratitude. I followed her to Rutgers and, depending on the day, I would study at the Douglas Library, the Livingston/Bush College Library, or the Alexander Library on the Old Queens campus. Like so many college students, I realized that studying in my apartment was counterproductive as there were too many distractions, so I spent most evenings at the library. It was at Rutgers that the term, “the Paper Chase” took on meaning. After months of competing with my classmates for obscure documents at the Rutgers libraries, I took the twenty-minute ride down the road to Princeton University and had access to documents that my fellow classmates fought over a few miles up the road.
Entering the Princeton Library that first time was close to a religious experience. Back in those days, showing my Rutgers ID was all that was required to enter this world of grand architecture with labyrinths of corridors and tucked away study areas. The main floor had a loft that overlooked the area below and sitting at one of those big oak tables looking down at the students remains etched in my mind’s eye. The Princeton Library became my abditory, spending countless days and evenings with my thermos of coffee in that building and to this day the hours spent at the Princeton University Library are among my fondest memories of graduate school.
But like most things in life, change is inevitable and my regular visits to libraries were replaced by a career, marriage and the responsibilities that come with adulthood. We lived in several states, not living long enough in one place to become tethered to the community or its libraries. But at the end of my career in public finance, I was assigned to financing libraries which ended up being the most satisfying niche of my career.
Unlike working on a multi-million-dollar hospital financing with dozens of people involved, financing a library was a much smaller and by comparison a more intimate experience. In New York State, libraries are financed through a referendum that is voted on by its residents as an additional tax. Working with library boards and staff, I had the privilege of assisting the library in determining the referendum language and more importantly, the amount that would be palatable to the voters. Once the referendum was passed, I was the point person through the financing process which is accomplished through the issuance of tax-exempt bonds. One of the last financings I ever worked on was the Albany Public Library system which involved the refurbishment of the main library branch and the construction of two new branch libraries. Equally satisfying, my wife’s architectural firm were the architects for the project.
Before retiring, I worked on numerous library financings and when I pass a library that I played a part in being built or renovated, I feel a sense of pride and ownership but more importantly, knowing that I helped shape the future direction of that community.
Today I have three library cards; the Bethlehem Public Library, the New York Public Library, and the Palm Beach County Library System. But wherever I go one of the first orders of business is to check out the town’s library. Like everything else, libraries must evolve or die and many libraires have risen and met the challenge, becoming the de facto town square and meeting place. You can tell a great deal about a community through its library. It has always held true, and I suspect will remain that way for many years to come.
