PaperWork: One book pulled from a row of books and my life changed

Elburn, Illinois. Third grade.

If I’m getting sentimental about libraries, I must start there, when I borrowed my first book.

I have few surviving memories of grade school, most of them involving the fenced-in playground area with a pole I climbed, my friend Ray and the tree stump he carved into a small engineering project, and a neighboring house where we were pretty sure a witch lived.

But I do remember one part of my classroom. Along the back wall was a low-level stretch of shelves lined with books. My first library.

I took home “Robinson Crusoe.” I was drawn to the story of a man who had to survive alone. I was a country boy, bussed to school each day. I could relate to the alone part.

So my first full-length novel was a classic. Loved it. Then my memory jumps to seventh grade and a new experience – buying books.

The closet (that’s the best way to describe it) was a straight shot down the hallway from my homeroom class. It was full of paperbacks for sale. I still have some of those books. That might be where I met Jules Verne.

The next memory jolt dates to high school and the library at West Aurora High.

I was still riding a bus and looked forward to the end of the school day. I had free time before the bus left and waited in the library. I always had a book to read. A fun book, not any of that schoolwork stuff.

A standout moment was that time the librarian ordered me to be quiet. I have to think she was loving it, though. I wasn’t chatting with friends or being rowdy. I was laughing. Loud, gut-busting laughing ... while reading a book.

I read lots of classics, but I had discovered humor in books and was addicted. I read and laughed. Out loud. Too loud. One of my favorites was “No Time for Sergeants” by Mac Hyman.

After high school, my reading path led to bookstores. I loved being in libraries, but I did not want to return books I had read. I wanted to adopt them. Like I said, I still have books I bought in seventh grade. And ... I have added “Robinson Crusoe” to my library.

My library. Most of my reading years centered on books in my library. Walking along my shelves, studying the lineup, each book enticing me, is the same feeling I had when exploring a public library.

I worry about my library always having a “home.” I say “home” because my books are a family. And that’s what a library is ... a home for books, for learning, for exploring, for discovery. Any facility that houses books is a temple ... for all beliefs. Especially libraries.

I shouldn’t need to explain the importance and absolute necessity of libraries. Still, it feels good to say it. That library sentiment I mentioned earlier is embedded. Plus, it’s appropriate as this week wraps up National Library Week.

Someone who worshipped libraries was author Ray Bradbury. Let me leave you with his words:

“I discovered me in the library. I went to find me in the library. Before I fell in love with libraries, I was just a 6-year-old boy. The library fueled all of my curiosities, from dinosaurs to ancient Egypt.

“When I graduated from high school in 1938, I began going to the library three nights a week. I did this every week for almost 10 years and finally, in 1947, around the time I got married, I figured I was done. So I graduated from the library when I was 27. I discovered that the library is the real school.”

• Lonny Cain, retired managing editor of The Times in Ottawa, also was a reporter for The Herald-News in Joliet in the 1970s. His PaperWork email is lonnyjcain@gmail.com. Or mail The Times, 110 W. Jefferson St., Ottawa, IL 61350.