Hoffman Estates Review readers have been writing in with stories about their first summer jobs. Here’s one from today’s edition:
My first summer job was as assistant librarian in my small (1,500 souls), virtuous southwest Michigan hometown. Two bars, 11 churches. Mrs. Murray, the tiny, sweet, gray-haired librarian for as long as I could remember, instructed me me in the basics: Checking books in and out; reshelving materials; entering new titles into the card catalog; typing up the Due Date cards and pasting their little cardboard holders into the fronts of the books.
Hoffman Estates Review readers have been writing in with stories about their first summer jobs. Here’s one from today’s edition:
My first summer job was as assistant librarian in my small (1,500 souls), virtuous southwest Michigan hometown. Two bars, 11 churches. Mrs. Murray, the tiny, sweet, gray-haired librarian for as long as I could remember, instructed me me in the basics: Checking books in and out; reshelving materials; entering new titles into the card catalog; typing up the Due Date cards and pasting their little cardboard holders into the fronts of the books.
After a long winter, residents of this sleepy town near Lake Michigan typically spent their leisure summer days not at the library, but pursuing more satisfying outside summer activities. Time spent assisting library patrons was minimal. This left me somewhat bored, with a lot of time on my hands. Thus, eventually I explored all the nooks and crannies of the small library space in City Hall for other diversions.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the very top shelf in the library’s only closet held what could only be considered in the early ’60s as “X-rated” reading materials, such tomes as The Bridge Over the River Kwai, and The Scarlet Letter. Shocking!
So far as I know, none of the patrons ever inquired about or checked out these materials. I can only assume they were retained in the closet for the edification of the librarian(s).
–Jan Starner.
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