knoxcotn

knoxcotn-digest Sunday, May 27 2001 Volume 01 : Number 162

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Date: Sun, 27 May 2001 11:24:36 -0400

From: "Billie R. McNamara" <knox@tngenweb.org>

Subject: [KnoxCoTN] 27 May 2001: Sunday Afternoon Rocking

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The Readers' Legacy (from the "Sunday Afternoon Rocking" series)

"Copper-Toed Boots!", she exclaimed, "See if they have that one! And Little=

=20

Women! And The Boxcar Children=85that one too!" Later her answer was, "A=20

Tree Grows in Brooklyn=85see if they have that!" The titles had come in=20

response to my own asking, "What should I check out this week? What did=20

you read when you were my age?" And so it was, that in my season, I too=20

enjoyed Copper-Toed Boots, The Boxcar Children, Little Women, A Tree Grows=

=20

in Brooklyn, and any other myriad number of titles remembered by my=20

mother. Later my mother would tell me how her own mother had read Zane=20

Gray novels late into the night aloud to my grandfather=85and I would have=

to=20

read all of those as well.

I cannot remember a time when books were not a part of our lives. Not that=

=20

we were any well read family, or knowledgeable of the great classics, but=20

simply that we read. A lot. Television was not a center of entertainment=

=20

in our home, primarily because I was quite a big girl when we could first=20

afford one. Even then it was viewed by some sense of mistrust by my=20

parents, who thought it might be a "time waster" if allowed to be on very=20

often. Books, on the other hand, could be excused from creating=20

diversion, for the simple reason that my parents had known what it was to=20

hunger for them. There were not great numbers of books in our home, for we=

=20

could ill afford them. The titles were not of lofty academic stature, for=

=20

none of my family was particularly academically inclined. But books there=

=20

were, and very early I was introduced to the public library where hours of=

=20

enjoyment could be had for no price at all. Well I remember my first "real=

=20

book" of my very own. I had many "Little Golden" books, mostly arriving in=

=20

my hands one or two at a time at Christmas or a birthday, but a "real=20

book", a hard covered one, a chapter book=85no. By third grade, someone had=

=20

introduced me to the Nancy Drew mysteries, and voraciously I consumed all I=

=20

could locate. Having exhausted the meager supply at the public library,=20

having exhausted the supply of all my more fortunate friends, and living in=

=20

an age with no school library available, I felt a little like Abraham=20

Lincoln=85hungry for a book, willing to walk miles to get one, but no more=

of=20

that genre in sight. I waylaid my hunger, and branched out into whatever=

=20

the library had available on my level that I had not yet read. It was a=20

good thing I was that "hungry", for I discovered much I might not have had=

=20

my hunger been too easily satiated.

Several times a year we would make a trek to relatives in Tennessee, where=

=20

doting aunts waited anxiously to gauge the growth in size and character of=

=20

one of their only two nieces. And typically, one of the aunts had already=

=20

planned a shopping excursion. Such shopping excursions were not=20

extravagant by the standards many of today's children gauge, but in that=20

time and place they were quite a novelty and adventure for me. "And what=20

would you like to have this time?", she asked, eyes twinkling. She enjoyed=

=20

giving as much as anyone I ever knew. I scarcely dared to breathe as I=20

answered her. "A book," I said, "A REAL book, with hard covers and=20

chapters and everything! A Nancy Drew book, please?" Sagely, she agreed=20

that was a wise choice, but she refused to visit the bookstore until the=20

very last day of my visit, that I might not "have my nose in a book" the=20

entire time I was to be visiting.

I will never forget the joy and drama of the occasion of being the proud=20

owner of a book, a new book, a book with chapters, a book with a hard=20

cover. And with wonder, I literally DID bury my nose in that book all the=

=20

way home=85sniffing the fresh new smell with delight, running my hands again=

=20

and again over that cover and thinking, "This is mine! This book really=20

belongs to me!" It was The Mystery of the Whispering Statue=85and yes, I=20

still have it.

Later my children would ask, "What should I check out this week? What did=

=20

you read when you were my age?" And the story continued=85I hope it never=

=20

has an end.

Books became a large part of my life. Somewhere along the line, I even=20

evolved out of "junk" and made my reading diet a more balanced one,=20

sprinkled with a goodly number of nonfiction and classics. I have worked in=

=20

a public library, a high school library, a junior high library, a middle=20

school library, and a number of elementary school libraries. In fact, I=20

have been a librarian for nigh on thirty years. I would be hard pressed to=

=20

say how many I have read, and I have actually written a few. And a book=20

never ceases to delight me. My home is filled with them, stacked with=20

them, literally overrun with them. Ask me if I would rather spend my "mad=

=20

money" on a shopping trip to the mall, or a trip to the bookstore, and=20

there is no question what the answer would be. My children had at their=20

fingertips virtually any classic, any poetry, a bit on virtually any topic,=

=20

and plenty of "junk" besides. They never knew a time when they were not=20

the owner of a "real book". It was a wonderful thing. I work in a school=

=20

library with over 14000 books=85and it is a wonderful thing. Books are=20

everywhere, they can be picked up for pennies at a flea market, a yard=20

sale, a Goodwill store. And something is missing.

There are, as there have always been, those who value books, those who=20

cherish books. But few there are who know how it is to HUNGER for=20

books. There is a feast on the table. Yet less than 10% of our nation's=20

population take advantage of free public libraries, few children spend=20

their leisure time reading, adults log hundreds of hours watching a=20

television but are hard pressed to say when they last read a book from=20

cover to cover. I don't know anyone who ever walked a mile to borrow a=20

book, or even wanted to. I worry sometimes, with seemingly so few "reading=

=20

role models" if we might be raising a generation of children who can never=

=20

get an answer to the question, "What should I check out this week? What=20

did you read when you were my age?" And I worry sometimes, how often the=20

question is asked. What a shame to have such a feast on the table=85and so=

=20

few who notice it is there.

I hope my grandchildren ask the question. I want to tell them about=20

Copper-Toed Boots, and The Boxcar Children, and A Tree Grows in=20

Brooklyn. I want to tell them about Little Women, and the Adventures of=20

Huckleberry Finn and The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come. And if they=20

would like=85Nana would love to take them to a bookstore and get them a book=

=20

of their very own=85a real one, with chapters, and hard covers. Nana would=

=20

love to see them hungry for a book. And Nana would love to know that when=

=20

they grow up, their children will ask the same question their great=20

grandmother did.

I know my audience. You read, or you would not bother to wish to receive=20

this column. Many of you are of a generation who well knows what it was to=

=20

"hunger" for a book, and no feast on the table. I have no grandchildren as=

=20

of yet, but many of you do. Please, if you haven't already, won't you tell=

=20

them what you read when you were their age?

Just a thought,

Jan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be=20

shared...simply share though e-mail as written without alterations...and in=

=20

entirety. If planned for a publication, permission must be granted by the=20

author. Please forward sufficient information concerning the nature and=20

intent of the publication.

Thanks, jan)

Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday=

=20

Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per=20

week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to=

=20

Sundayrocking-subscribe@topica.com

Comments about the content of these messages can be sent to=20

unicorn@sun-spot.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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The Readers' Legacy (from the "Sunday Afternoon Rocking"

series)

"Copper-Toed Boots!", she exclaimed, "See if they

have that one! And Little Women! And The Boxcar

Children=85that one too!"  Later her answer was, "A

Tree Grows in Brooklyn=85see if they have that!"  The titles

had come in response to my own asking, "What should I check out this

week?  What did you read when you were my age?"  And so it

was, that in my season, I too enjoyed Copper-Toed Boots, The

Boxcar Children, Little Women, A Tree Grows in

Brooklyn, and any other myriad number of titles remembered by my

mother.  Later my mother would tell me how her own mother had read

Zane Gray novels late into the night aloud to my grandfather=85and I would

have to read all of those as well.

I cannot remember a time when books were not a part of our lives. 

Not that we were any well read family, or knowledgeable of the great

classics, but simply that we read.  A lot.  Television was not

a center of entertainment in our home, primarily because I was quite a

big girl when we could first afford one. Even then it was viewed by some

sense of mistrust by my parents, who thought it might be a "time

waster" if allowed to be on very often.   Books, on the

other hand, could be excused from creating diversion, for the simple

reason that my parents had known what it was to hunger for them. 

There were not great numbers of books in our home, for we could ill

afford them.  The titles were not of lofty academic stature, for

none of my family was particularly academically inclined.  But books

there were, and very early I was introduced to the public library where

hours of enjoyment could be had for no price at all.  Well I

remember my first "real book" of my very own.  I had many

"Little Golden" books, mostly arriving in my hands one or two

at a time at Christmas or a birthday, but a "real book", a hard

covered one, a chapter book=85no.  By third grade, someone had

introduced me to the Nancy Drew mysteries, and voraciously I consumed all

I could locate.  Having exhausted the meager supply at the public

library, having exhausted the supply of all my more fortunate friends,

and living in an age with no school library available, I felt a little

like Abraham Lincoln=85hungry for a book, willing to walk miles to get one,

but no more of that genre in sight.   I waylaid my hunger, and

branched out into whatever the library had available on my level that I

had not yet read.  It was a good thing I was that

"hungry", for I discovered much I might not have had my hunger

been too easily satiated.

Several times a year we would make a trek to relatives in Tennessee,

where doting aunts waited anxiously to gauge the growth in size and

character of one of their only two nieces.  And typically, one of

the aunts had already planned a shopping excursion.  Such shopping

excursions were not extravagant by the standards many of today's children

gauge, but in that time and place they were quite a novelty and adventure

for me.  "And what would you like to have this time?", she

asked, eyes twinkling.  She enjoyed giving as much as anyone I ever

knew.  I scarcely dared to breathe as I answered her.  "A

book," I said, "A REAL book, with hard covers and chapters and

everything!  A Nancy Drew book, please?"  Sagely, she

agreed that was a wise choice, but she refused to visit the bookstore

until the very last day of my visit, that I might not "have my nose

in a book" the entire time I was to be visiting.

I will never forget the joy and drama of the occasion of being the proud

owner of a book, a new book, a book with chapters, a book with a hard

cover.  And with wonder, I literally DID bury my nose in that book

all the way home=85sniffing the fresh new smell with delight, running my

hands again and again over that cover and thinking, "This is

mine!  This book really belongs to me!"  It was The

Mystery of the Whispering Statue=85and yes, I still have it.

Later my children would ask, "What should I check out this

week?  What did you read when you were my age?"  And the

story continued=85I hope it never has an end.

Books became a large part of my life.  Somewhere along the line, I

even evolved out of "junk" and made my reading diet a more

balanced one, sprinkled with a goodly number of nonfiction and classics.

I have worked in a public library, a high school library, a junior high

library, a middle school library, and a number of elementary school

libraries.  In fact, I have been a librarian for nigh on thirty

years.  I would be hard pressed to say how many I have read, and I

have actually written a few.  And a book never ceases to delight

me.  My home is filled with them, stacked with them, literally

overrun with them.  Ask me if I would rather spend my "mad

money" on a shopping trip to the mall, or a trip to the bookstore,

and there is no question what the answer would be.  My children had

at their fingertips virtually any classic, any poetry, a bit on virtually

any topic, and plenty of "junk" besides.  They never knew

a time when they were not the owner of a "real book".  It

was a wonderful thing.  I work in a school library with over 14000

books=85and it is a wonderful thing.  Books are everywhere, they can

be picked up for pennies at a flea market, a yard sale, a Goodwill

store.  And something is missing.

There are, as there have always been, those who value books, those who

cherish books.  But few there are who know how it is to HUNGER for

books.  There is a feast on the table.  Yet less than 10% of

our nation's population take advantage of free public libraries, few

children spend their leisure time reading, adults log hundreds of hours

watching a television but are hard pressed to say when they last read a

book from cover to cover.  I don't know anyone who ever walked a

mile to borrow a book, or even wanted to.  I worry sometimes, with

seemingly so few "reading role models" if we might be raising a

generation of children who can never get an answer to the question,

"What should I check out this week?  What did you read when you

were my age?"  And I worry sometimes, how often the question is

asked.  What a shame to have such a feast on the table=85and so few

who notice it is there.

I hope my grandchildren ask the question.  I want to tell them about

Copper-Toed Boots, and The Boxcar Children, and A Tree

Grows in Brooklyn.  I want to tell them about Little

Women, and the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and The

Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come.  And if they would like=85Nana

would love to take them to a bookstore and get them a book of their very

own=85a real one, with chapters, and hard covers.  Nana would love to

see them hungry for a book.  And Nana would love to know that when

they grow up, their children will ask the same question their great

grandmother did.

I know my audience.  You read, or you would not bother to wish to

receive this column.  Many of you are of a generation who well knows

what it was to "hunger" for a book, and no feast on the

table.  I have no grandchildren as of yet, but many of you do. 

Please, if you haven't already, won't you tell them what you read when

you were their age?

Just a thought,

Jan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be

shared...simply share though e-mail as written without alterations...and

in entirety. If planned for a publication, permission must be granted by

the author. Please forward sufficient information concerning the nature

and intent of the publication.

Thanks, jan)

Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list

Sunday Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally

only one message per week will come across it, that being the column. To

subscribe send email to Sundayrocking-subscribe@topica.com

Comments about the content of these messages can be sent to

unicorn@sun-spot.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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End of knoxcotn-digest V1 #162

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