newjerseynewsroom.com

BY JOHN ESPOSITO

NEWJERSEYNEWSROOM.COM

The library connects us with the insight and knowledge, painfully extracted from Nature, of the greatest minds that ever were, with the best teachers, drawn from the entire planet and from all our history, to instruct us without tiring, and to inspire us to make our own contribution to the collective knowledge of the human species. I think the health of our civilization, the depth of our awareness about the underpinnings of our culture and our concern for the future can all be tested by how well we support our libraries.

— Cosmos

Carl Sagan

There are certain first time events from early childhood that remain an integral part of our lives forever. One such flashback in time came flooding back to me while preparing this column. My mind conjures a Saturday spring morning when I was seven years old. There is no mistaking the undeniable truth that the episode about to be told, occurred fifty long years ago, thus making me no longer young, while hopefully still retaining some relevance.

We were greeted inside by the friendly Library Director, an attentive woman, whose name I recall as Ms. McCloskey. To youthful eyes, she presented herself as an intelligent, older woman, who wore eyeglasses attached by a string of beads. I was taken by her exuberant speech and the obvious devotion to her profession. Standing alongside her was a much younger and taller woman with dark hair. Ms. McCloskey introduced this person to my father and me as her able assistant. I will refer to her as Ms. Helper, as her real name has been lost in time. Ms. McCloskey informed us that many years earlier, Ms. Helper had visited the Irvington Library on a personal crusade to improve her knowledge, by nurturing a new found appreciation for books. Reading, she said, was something Ms. Helper viewed much like a plague during her grade and early high school years. Under what the Director proudly described as her guidance, Ms. Helper developed a voracious appetite for reading as many 3 books on a variety of subjects in a single week. She said I too could achieve similar results simply by reading regularly. I could not believe there was any chance of my completing such a daunting task. By the manner which Ms. McCloskey focused her eyes on me in the course of her impressive dissertation, it was evident there was a message to convey — books are to be enjoyed and treasured like special friends. I thought it odd that Ms. Helper contributed nothing herself to the Director's kind words, beyond appearing embarrassed by the conversation. The most she could muster was an occasional self-conscious smile in my direction. This went unnoticed by Ms. McCloskey, who continued to speak in glowing terms about her star pupil.

Truth be told, the drama of Ms. McCloskey's kindly lecture did not interest me half as much as my immediate intent for locating the one book I had hoped to find. Dad walked with me to the card catalog, opening the long wooden "Subject" drawer designated by letters MAG — MRN. I then took over, turning the index search cards quickly, flipping ahead until reaching MAN, then pay dirt — Mantle, Mickey — BIO. I immediately sought Ms. Helper for assistance. She escorted us to the Biography shelves, and within no time, I was firmly gripping my hard cover treasure perfectly encased in a plastic dust jacket: Mickey Mantle of the Yankees, by Gene Schoor.

The remaining hour or so was spent walking the many long aisles with my dad, intently listening to him point out a classic novel, a well known author and certain subjects that might interest me, e.g.: the planets, mysteries, cowboys, trains and U.S. Presidents. I was clearly spent by the entire experience, more than likely exhausted from taking in the overwhelming volume of inventory, with names and titles that meant nothing to me — more books than I had seen in my lifetime. My father must have recognized the wilting signs in me. He announced it was time to leave. We made our way to the Circulation Desk where I obligingly handed Mickey over, along with my brand new library card to the Desk Librarian. She carefully applied her date stamp to a card that was fastened inside the rear book flap, signaling Mr. Yankee was mine to keep for an entire month. As we left for home in my Dad's 1959 Chevrolet Belair, I felt all was right in my world.

The Irvington Public Library of that early time has since taken up new quarters in an attractive, spacious building, erected in 1968 and located on Civic Square. But on that Saturday morning long ago, thanks to a baseball hero, an energetic Library Director and a loving parent, the wheels were set in motion for my initiation into the world of books. Beginning in 1789 when the first New Jersey public library opened its doors in Burlington N.J., variations on this experience have served to introduce children to a higher degree of learning.