We old timers are a stubborn lot. Many of us still have our landlines, and we hung on to our typewriters and LP’s until the bitter end, hoping for a comeback. We still write letters, enjoy our local newspaper with our morning coffee, and our books are hardcover and in our hands, not on a screen.
We know technology is making life faster and easier, but the jury’s still out on better. We’re not going to let our old habits die without a fight.
When the coronavirus took away our libraries this year, we built our own. We used old doll houses and bought mini library kits to build one. We put them in front of our homes, welcoming neighbors to take a book, and please replenish the stock with one of their own.
It’s called sharing, another old habit old timers can’t seem to kick. These little free libraries are not a new idea. They began in 2009 in Wisconsin with a man named Todd Bol, who has since passed away. He took an old, wooden container and made it into a one-room schoolhouse, putting it on his front lawn as a tribute to his late mother, a school teacher.
The closing of our public libraries seems to have reinvigorated the idea. In Jan McVarish and Midge Gisel’s neighborhood in Granada Hills, there are four mini libraries they pass on their morning walks under the historic Deodar pine trees along White Oak Avenue.
When they moved into their homes nearly 50 years ago that section of White Oak was still a dirt road, so it’s safe to say they both qualify as old timers. Midge was an early child actor in the old “Our Gang” comedies.
“Remember the scenes where Spanky or someone would say to the gang ‘let’s put on a show?’ I was one of the child dancers in the show.”
Both women are easy to recognize on the street. Not many people are carrying an armful of books on their morning walks to replenish their neighborhood mini libraries.
“I never go anywhere without a book,” Jan says. “I just like holding them in my hands. With the public libraries being closed, these little, free libraries have been a treasure, especially for children’s books that young families in the neighborhood are sharing with each other.
“We had one person who must have been a retired school teacher put all her lesson plans in one of the mini libraries, and they were all gone within a week. With the schools shut down, they’re probably being used for home schooling. Without these little libraries they probably would have been thrown out.”
Midge sees them as a reprieve from death for many books that have outlived their shelf life in libraries. They can be donated to organizations like Goodwill to be resold, but there’s still a price to pay. Even $4 for a couple of books is $4 for food or the gas bill for families who have lost their income.
She gets many history books donated to the San Fernando Valley Historical Society, where she is a longstanding member. When they start stacking up, she takes 20 or so, and puts them into the free, little libraries.
“I just wish we had more of them,” Midge says. “I hate to see books destroyed because there isn’t room for them anymore.”
That’s another old habit we old timer’s just can’t kick. Waste. We hate to throw things out if they still work.
Books work. They always have and they always will.
Dennis McCarthy’s column runs on Sunday. He can be reached at dmccarthynews@gmail.com.
The Link LonkAugust 30, 2020 at 10:05AM
https://www.dailynews.com/2020/08/29/little-libraries-can-have-a-big-impact-amid-a-very-big-pandemic/
Little libraries can have a big impact amid a very big pandemic - LA Daily News
https://news.google.com/search?q=little&hl=en-US&gl=US&ceid=US:en
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