Public libraries still represent the beating heart of a community
By Stephen Lilly
I have it on unimpeachable authority, my mother, that my attachment to public libraries formed on Nov. 3, 1964. I was 2 1/2 years old.
My mother put me in my winter coat and strolled my twin sister and me one block from the Westwood branch of the Cincinnati Public Library so she could vote in the presidential election. I have no recollection of this visit, but she tells me I was fascinated by the natural light sifting through the minute windows adjoining the vaulted ceilings and by the clatter and echoes of shoe soles meeting the marble floors.
If she’s right, it began what now is a 59-year bond with what truly is one our democracy’s most treasured institutions, our community’s greatest assets and one of my most cherished and consistent friends — public libraries.
Before Google, the reference section
My regular visits to that same library, right across the street from my elementary school, began in earnest on my walks home from first grade. While I loved the occasional Hardy Boys mystery and William Hurley’s engaging Dan Frontier book series, I always gravitated to the reference section.
There, I was introduced to encyclopedias, almanacs, atlases, voluminous dictionaries, periodicals and, yes, newspapers from every city and port. Through those pages, I was exposed to facts and figures, systems and processes, people and places that I still find fascinating today.
Specifically, I learned of the Six-Day Arab-Israeli War of 1967, the lineage of the Mercury and Apollo space programs, Watergate, and that Robert Earl Hughes, all 1,041 pounds of him, was the world’s heaviest man, so heavy that he had to be buried in a piano crate.
Before YouTube, Bob Gibson
Fancying myself a Little League baseball pitching prodigy, I checked out baseball great Bob Gibson’s illustrated pitching guide called “Strike Zone”. There, Gibson showed the grips he used for his assortment of fastballs, curves, sliders, and change-ups that made him an all-time great.
In my next game, lacking Gibson’s precision, I hit the first three batters I faced with my curveball. I was promptly yanked from the game by a coach using a colorful phrase I did not understand.
Too embarrassed to ask my parents what it meant, I returned to the reference section of the library the following week to search it down. I failed. There was no internet and were no urban slang dictionaries that I know of in 1970.
Before college visits, a reference book
Over time, the role of the library in my life expanded. It provided free research materials for completing school assignments. It became my international travelogue, since I came from a large family that didn’t have the means to travel much.
The library’s audio materials introduced me to the Big Band music of Benny Goodman and Les Brown, and to brilliantly written radio classics like “The Shadow”, “Gunsmoke”, “Dragnet” and “The Whistler”.
Above, Library books that inspired me.
Ultimately the time I spent in that reference section forged my career path. It was there, through the Cincinnati newspapers, as well as national papers like the New York Times and Chicago Tribune, and weekly publications like Newsweek, Sports Illustrated, and the glorious Sporting News, I forged a life-long passion for news and journalism. I even learned which colleges to target and apply to to develop that career.
A business editor’s resource
The attachment morphed even further as a working business reporter and editor, when I constantly relied on library materials and skilled personnel to provide fact, context, and nuance to bring my stories to life. I couldn’t have had a more credible and valuable professional partner.
Around 1994 my editor asked me to write a series on the financing of public sports arenas in American cities. Columbus, Ohio (our city), was planning to build one with taxpayer assistance. I spent a dozen hours with librarians in Columbus, Charlotte, Indianapolis, and other cities to compare the costs and financing methods. Those stories provided clarity and insight to local taxpayers.
After leaving journalism in 2004, I became spokesperson for one of the top public metropolitan library systems in the nation. It was there that the bond continued to deepen. I began to appreciate the important economic and cultural roles that public libraries play in their communities and our society.
Stock image by USA-Reiseblogger from Pixabay.
Some of these, in no particular order of importance, include:
- free, unfettered access to computer technology and the internet for all
- homework help centers, providing the technology and tutoring for students of all ages to complete their school assignments in a safe, supportive environment
- distribution of cost-free meals to students of all ages on inclement weather days when schools are closed and children have no other available source of nutrition
- English and citizenship classes for immigrants and other interested parties
- retirement and money management classes
- concert and art spaces
- safe community space for gatherings
- food, clothing, and technology drives
- storytime reading sessions for younger children to introduce them to books and the joy of reading
- librarian expertise to assist with any question
I’m amazed when I hear some politicians and others argue that library funding should be cut. They argue that in the age of the internet and Kindles, libaries have outlived their usefulness. This usually happens when a library tax levy is on the ballot.
The overwhelming evidence says otherwise, starting with the record number of customers most systems are serving today.
In my mind, these library naysayers are precisely the people who should have spent more of their formative years in the library. Maybe they would better appreciate the vibrant role this institution plays in the health and development of our communities.
Free and open to all regardless of socioeconomic status, race, gender or background, public libraries truly are the best reflection of our society and ourselves.
Stephen Lilly is a former journalist, former spokesperson for the Columbus Metropolitan Library, and current public relations professional.