For the Love of the Library

I guess it really started with my babysitter Helen, back when I was in preschool. It was common knowledge that no one could come close to matching my sister Tracey when it came to the realm of teen-age cool, but my babysitter's daughter Brenda could certainly hold her own. Not only did she have an Easy-Bake Oven, a Madonna tape and a variety of nail polish, but there was a whole other element of glamour to her life: She worked at the public library.

On select days after school and during the summer, she would shelve books and otherwise assist at the library, and Helen and I would occasionally trek over to meet her at the end of her shift. Back when the north doors were the main entrance, if we arrived a little early, I was allowed to wander over to the children's room to peruse the books and rifle through the toys.

Back then, the check-out desk was visible from the reference room and the children's room, and I still remember being awestruck after spying a mother checking out two foot-tall stacks of storybooks. When I got a little older, I signed up for my own library card, thrilled to see my name hand-printed on the blue cardboard, a little metal tab stamped with my personal ID number.

My parents and even my brother and sister regularly read to me, a practice all the experts say is critical to healthy brain development in children. While their efforts certainly helped me cultivate an active imagination and develop into a life-long learner, I attribute my love of reading to Mrs. Sanders, my second-grade teacher at Ridpath Elementary. Almost every day after lunch, my classmates and I would gather around the rocking chair next to her desk and listen to the latest chapter of a Laura Ingalls Wilder book, or perhaps a novel one of her students brought from home. She also arranged a special carpeted reading area for us, complete with cushions and several rows of her own books for us to choose from during reading time. I eschewed nurse and teacher as possible career aspirations and embraced the idea of becoming a librarian, assuming my job would be reading all day.

It was in Mrs. Rehlander's class, also at Ridpath, where I learned how much fun it can be to help someone else enjoy reading. Once a week, a handful of my fellow fourth-graders and I would head over to a classroom on the other side of the building to help the first-graders, who would flip open their books and practice their reading with a little coaching from the older kids.

DePauw University's Roy O. West Library has always been an incredible asset to the university and community, particularly at research paper time. But when I want to look for a great new short story collection or new-to-me classic, or pick up a couple movies or pop a fresh disc into the CD player completely free of charge, I traipse over to the PCPL, just like I did with my babysitter.

The Putnam County Public Library, its staff and patrons have seen many changes in the 25 years that have passed between my first visit and my next for the upcoming Festival of the Book. In a building that has grown and successfully merged the traditional with the updated, community members can find incredible programming, friendly and informed staff, enthusiastic volunteers, a committed board, Internet access and other technology resources, materials for adult new readers, and an ever-increasing array of periodicals, CDs, DVDs and books for every age, interest and ability level. My stamped metal number may have been replaced by a card with a digital barcode, but a trip to PCPL, particularly one that results in my own towering stack of books, is always a fun experience.