In Praise of Local Libraries

As you may have heard, CBS news anchor Katie Couric recently got into trouble for reminiscing about the joys of libraries. Not exactly controversial stuff, but the flap arose when it turned out her "personal" memories were in fact scripted by a young producer, who in turn had plagiarized 99 percent of the story from an op-ed piece in the not-exactly low profile Wall Street Journal. Oops.

Though the behind-the-scenes revelations about the "Couric Case" prompted some short-lived editorial hand-wringing, to my mind the content itself never got the attention it deserved, so here follows my own paean to that estimable institution, the library. Each of us probably has his or her own memories of libraries, whether as a place to goof off while pretending to do homework, or better yet as the site where we first encountered subjects that have captivated us ever since, but no matter where we fall on this spectrum you'd have to look pretty far and wide to find people who think libraries are anything but a good thing.

Tempting as it is to reiterate the obvious benefits libraries offer to the development of civic society (access to knowledge creating an informed citizenry and all that...), I'd like to focus on something it took me a while to discover: the wealth of benefits local libraries offer to the traveler. Starting with such basics as public restrooms and Internet access, when you're far from home in a strange new place, a local library can be an incredible -- and free -- resource.

When I’m traveling to new places and want to learn more about them as I pass through, I have a few favorite stops. First stop is usually a local café or diner, to sample pies and fries and to absorb local accents and conversational topics. I usually also head to the local visitor center, to scan the racks of brochures and find out about nearby "tourist attractions," but these days my favorite and most productive stops are places I never used to think twice about: local libraries. With their message boards, notice boards, local history sections, and racks of free newspapers to skim and soak up, a nice library is calming yet energizing oasis after too long on the road.

In many small towns across America, the library is about the only space where the entire community comes together, with no admission charge, and the buildings themselves often give a clear sense of a place's history and personality: Where and when they were built?? By whom, and in what style?? Is it named in memory of a local hero. A local library can clue you in to all this and much much more.

My own local library revelation came in the tiny town of Clyde, Ohio, midway between Toledo and Cleveland and best known (if it's known at all...) as the location of Sherwood Anderson's book Winesburg, Ohio. I'd done some previous detective work to know that Clyde was indeed "the place", but when I first arrived the tourism bureau knew nothing about it.... perhaps by choice, since Anderson's book doesn't exactly make "Winesburg" out to be a very desirable place. So I cruised around, walked the quaint brick-paved downtown streets, and was about to give up my quest when I chanced upon the local library. I asked the librarian if she knew anything about Winesburg, and was soon given an enthusiastic and expert introduction to a subject that a minute before had seemed buried deep beneath those brick pavements.

I had a similar mini-epiphany when in New England some years later. Hoping to gain some insight into how the East Coast elite manage to maintain their status in our supposedly egalitarian nation, I went nosing around the plush environs of the exclusive Phillips Exeter Academy, where generations of Wall Street nabobs and a few Presidents have gone to school (including the incumbent, George W. Bush). The town seemed a low-key, tidy and friendly, a nice enough but basically unremarkable place until I walked across the campus lawns toward the library and had an eery sense of deja vu. For the library here was no standard-issue school high school library. Rather, the Phillips Exeter library would be a monument on any campus anywhere: Designed by master architect Louis Kahn, and recently honored on a postage stamp (see above) as one of the "12 Masterpieces of Modern Architecture." Fully stocked with fine art books and periodicals, banks of computers and the latest CDs, it almost instantly told me more than I ever wanted to know about how the "other half" learns and lives. (And if such an education sounds appealing, be prepared to cough up $30 to 40,000 a year -- not doubt a bargain, considering the wealth of opportunity on offer here.)

Back in the "real world," many local libraries have often suffered from funding cutbacks, emptying shelves and a general loss of prestige, but there are signs that they may be enjoying a quiet renaissance. Way back in the early 1980s, the quaint California coastal community of San Juan Capistrano made the national news by commissioning post-modern architect Michael Graves to design a new local library, which was built in a style suited to its location next to the town's famous mission. Soon after, Los Angeles opted to resurrect its wonderful old Central Library, a truly beautiful Art Deco ziggurat which has been resurrected as part of its never ending struggle to energize its long-abandoned downtown.

The nearest we have to a national library, the Library of Congress in Washington DC, was given a loving and modernizing scrub around the turn of the new "Y2K" millennium, and its immense holdings have been the focus of one of the most wide-ranging digitalization efforts imaginable. Around the country, other examples are there for your enjoyment, such as in Seattle, where internationally rated architect Rem Koolhaas has created a prominent new public library that's one of the most noteworthy new buildings in the world.

So, next time you find yourself in a new place, or find yourself with some time on your hands in your same old place, make your way to a library and, as they say:

"Check it out!"