“Whatever the cost of our libraries, the price is cheap compared to that of an ignorant nation.” ― Walter Cronkite
It’s about
the library.
You know
where it is—it’s the big old building on the corner of Main and Huntington.
It’s been remodeled in the past year so that the children’s floor is bright and
cheery and the tables and desks on the adult floor are refinished and waiting
for you. There’s room between the stacks to get around and plenty of places to
sit and read the paper and decide if you really do want to read the book by a
new author in your hands or if you want to stick to the tried-and-true.
If you have
things to look up, there’s a handy-dandy reference room back there to do it in.
There are computers for everyone’s use and all kinds of paper-and-ink books you
can lose yourself in. More tables and chairs and pens and scrap paper to make
notes on. One of those books, the 1875
History of Miami County, led to my third or fourth book (you forget after
while), Home to Singing Trees. Most
of the history in my book came straight from that other big one, only I used my
own words. (To have used someone else’s is plagiarism. I learned that word
early on. In the library.)
I’ve written
something like 14 books now. Some with a large publisher, some with a smaller
one, some released on my own. Writing books is one of those things that’s kind
of like a good pizza—it’s everything it’s cracked up to be. You probably won’t
get rich, but you’re going to have a good time and you’re guaranteed some
satisfaction that comes from inside.
Before I
wrote those books—and while I was writing them—I wrote a column for the Peru Tribune, “Window Over the Sink.” It
was the most fun I’ve ever had writing and I’d still be doing it if the climate
in newspapering hadn’t changed. I wrote feature articles, too, and had a few
stories in magazines.
I didn’t go
to college. I didn’t “know” anyone. But I had good teachers—thank you, North
Miami—and I had the library. If it hadn’t been for those two components, my
life would have been very different.
Would it
have been ruined? Nope. I’d still have my family, maybe the job I retired from,
our home. Would it have been less? Yeah, I think so.
I wouldn’t
have written 14 books (and still counting). I wouldn’t have written a couple
hundred newspaper columns. I wouldn’t have spoken to other would-be writers and
said “yes, you can.” Because I wouldn’t have known it. I learned it from those
teachers, whose names I can still recite to you 50 or so years later if you
want to hear them, and from what’s inside buildings like the one at the corner
of Main and Huntington in Peru, Indiana.
It’s easy to
get a library card. Just take your ID in and fill out an application. And, if
you live outside the city limits, pay $75.
Yes.
Now,
personally, I don’t think that’s a big price for a year of being able to borrow
books, audio-books, movies, and music from the library. However, that’s just
me. If my three kids still lived at home, it would be $300 for the four of us
and the truth is we probably wouldn’t have done it even if it meant they got to
borrow books on their very own card and they got to take part in a Summer
Reading Program that’s just like that pizza I mentioned earlier—all it’s
cracked up to be. However, kids are weird; they have to eat and wear clothes
and their shoe sizes change every two weeks--$225 for their library cards would
have been a prohibitive expense.
But if we
paid a tax to the library the way city residents do, it wouldn’t be. I’m just
like everyone else in that I don’t want
to pay more taxes, but the cost of supporting the library would be pretty small
if it were spread out. And the payoff would be huge.
I know—yes,
I really do—that there are those of you who won’t want to pay a library tax
because you’re not going to use the library. You are the same ones who don’t
want to pay school taxes because you don’t have kids in school. Well, just as I
thank you for helping pay those school taxes so that all of those who attend
county schools can do so, I would also thank you for paying a tax that would
grant library privileges to county residents.
The kid over
there in the third row in English class? He’ll thank you, too, when he’s
writing his fourteenth book and his two-hundredth column because you and the
other people who cared about the kids in this county paid those taxes. He’ll
talk to kids in classrooms and library meeting rooms and he’ll say “yes, you can”
because he came from somewhere that cared enough to take care of their own.
Thanks for
listening. Have a great day.
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