You know, librarians are pretty sensitive about their image. So I'm sort of surprised I don't hear more grousing about Miss Pence, the librarian at Hogwarts, who loves to shush the students, and in this latest volume is horrified that someone brought chocolate in the library. But then, I think we all have run into a Miss Pence at some point, right? Mine was the Kern County librarian at Edwards Air Force Base 1978-80, who absolutely would not let me read in the adult section despite the fact that I was reading on a college level in junior high. But then, I was asking to read John Jakes' The Bastard series, so I guess it's somewhat understandable. But hey, it was on TV. :)
My other experiences with librarians were much different. I worked as a library volunteer in elementary and junior high school. I remember our teacher at Forbes Junior High was very nice. I don't remember her name but I remember that her son, who had come home from the Air Force Academy, died on the motorcycle he'd just received for his birthday. And I remember my librarian at Belle Plaine who did charge me for a book that I had already returned (but apparently someone got before it could be checked in--my only 'lost book'), but I respected her a lot because there was some book challenge and she refused to ban a book from the library. Watching her in action was probably my first clue to what librarians actually did, beyond shelving and cataloguing.
Well, that's enough for now. Talk to you later...
1 comment:
Wow. I was googling Forbes Junior High and found your site. I remember a Kern Co library on Edwards. It was tiny and next to a laundromat. I remember the librarian wouldn't let me read in the adult section until I told her to call my mom and get permission. I also remember that I stole a Barry Manilow from the wall in the kid's room! It's likely I saw you because I was there 1978-1982 pretty much everyday after school while I was in junior high. My name is Francine Crockett. I was a cheerleader at Forbes and at Desert.
Mrs. Penley was the librarian at Forbes. Her son, Steve was riding a friend's motorcycle when he was killed. He ran into a tree in the Zang's yard--Jeanne Zang was my best friend. Mrs. Zang came home and nearly passed out from seeing all the blood and motorcycle parts all over her driveway. Pat and Mike Zang rode motorcycles. She thought one of her sons had been killed.
Steve was good friends with my sister Michele, Clay Dyson and Gunnar Burklund. They all hung out.
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