A new community, a new library

Every so often I am compelled to write about libraries.  I love libraries.  I love that they're filled with books.  I love that you can read those books for free.  I love that each library has its own quirks and personality.  (My childhood library, for instance, features a moose head on the wall of the children's room.)  And now, as libraries expand and adapt our ever-changing lives, I love that you can find everything from movies to museum passes at the library.

I'm writing today because—for the sixth time in my life—I have a new library to call "mine".  Each time I move to a new town, I hurry to get acquainted with its library.  I want to know which corners have the best light and the fewest distractions.  I like getting to know the circulation librarians and discovering who else frequents the library when I do.  I try to poke around the library's programming to discover whether or not they offer book clubs, reading programs for adults, or other social activities.

This newest library is the Forbes Library in Northampton, Massachusetts.  I have to admit that my first few trips to the library were intimidating.  Unlike many of the other libraries in my life, the layout of Forbes isn't exactly intuitive.  There are large reading rooms on the first floor, but upon first glance, most of the "fun" books seem to be sequestered on various floors and in hidden rooms, all of which appear to subscribe to the oh-so-New-England tradition of "you can't get there from here".

Frustrated, I left on my first few attempts feeling like this just wasn't the library for me.  I resolved to simply reserve all of my requests online (I'm still amazed that you can do this... what service!) so that I could just march into the library and pick things up at the circulation desk without having to wander around.

I tried this attempt for a couple of weeks.  Then, I got over my—I don't know exactly what: pride? annoyance?—and asked someone to direct me to the audio books so that I could poke around.  That led me to discover the racks of CDs and DVDs you can borrow.  And the musical scores.  And the art gallery that is full of paintings one week and photographs from around the world the next.  I found a snug alcove full of magazines.  I discovered the reference desk. I finally stumbled upon the fiction.

I started visiting the library every couple of days.  (What did I expect, being within stone-throwing distance?  It's like an addiction.)  In addition to getting used to the library's funky layout, I also started chatting with its librarians (who gave me great ideas for new books and movies to check out and who rarely snickered when I borrowed things like The Unofficial Harry Potter Cookbook and Magic Mike).  I even discovered the Forbes Library's incredible reader advisory service, where you send them a list of books you like, and a list of those you don't (with a bit of narrative to explain yourself) and they send you a personalized reading list in return.  I was incredibly pleased with my results; of the list I had read and enjoyed several, and promptly began requesting the others.  I have yet to be disappointed.

In any event, I love that I can borrow Zumba for Wii, Downton Abbey DVDs, and Stephen King novels all in one trip to Forbes.  I appreciate that when I return an audio book or a movie, sans the last disc (as I've done three times now), they don't scold me, but do call to remind me.  And because I'm a fun-loving person at heart, I also like that they have raffles, a bust of someone (Calvin Coolidge? Charles Forbes?) that often wears hats and goofy eyewear, a summer reading program for adults, and even prizes (I once won a bagel and coffee!).

I know that libraries are different things for different people.  But for me, libraries will always be equal parts wonder (I can browse to my heart's content and borrow all these amazing things at no cost!) and comfort (they know me here and they're friendly!).  So thanks, Forbes.  I'm glad that you're in my community and that I got over my trepidation of your sprawling spaces.  I'm sure I'll be in tomorrow (I have holds available for pick up, of course).  See you then!

Tornadoes hit Western Massachusetts

Yesterday, tornadoes touched down in my city and some surrounding communities.  My family is safe, as is my home, but I'm still shaken.  I think I'm feeling shaky for three main reasons. 

First, I've always lived in Massachusetts and I've always believed that my little corner of the world is relatively safe from disaster.  For the most part, we don't have earthquakes here or hurricanes.  Volcanoes don't erupt.  We're not in danger of tsunami waves.  New England has always felt safe and free of the natural disasters that plague other parts of the country.  This tornado business caught me completely off guard.

Then, there's the fact that the tornado struck so close to home.  One tornado touched down only two miles from my house; it hit a neighborhood I drive by frequently, and an area where friends live.  While I am grateful that the tornado avoided my house, it's eerie to think about how close it really came.  It's even more unsettling to think about the danger my boyfriend was in.  He works in a nearby town and a tornado touched down in the parking lot next to his building.  Windows were blown out, power lines went down, and trees crashed everywhere.  Nearly all the cars in the lot were damaged; some flipped over completely, others were hit with tree branches and debris, and some simply had their windows smashed by rocks.  My boyfriend and his coworkers managed to get out of the building safely, but the building is now uninhabitable. 

The final reason I still feel shaky is because in the worst-hit areas, the damage and destruction is so complete.  Cars were tossed around and landed top-down.  Trash barrels, tree branches, and lawn furniture blew together to create small mountains of debris.  Roofs were ripped off of schools.  The scene that struck me most profoundly was a damaged three-story apartment building made of brick.  The whole front of the building had been ripped away by the tornado; what was left looked like some sort of tragic dollhouse—furniture and appliances still inside, but the front wall completely missing.  All this complete destruction, and yet, in areas just a couple of miles from the flattened neighborhoods, people were back to business as usual. 

I guess that's the eeriest part—the fact that there was a lot of sunshine today and that my house looks no worse for wear, but just down the road, entire homes were blown off their foundations.  Four people have already died in Massachusetts as a result of the tornadoes.  Towns have declared a state of emergency and the governor called in the National Guard.  My little piece of the globe is both completely devastated and wholly unaffected, depending only on which end of the road you happen to be on.

The extremes make my head feel a little woozy.  I feel blessed and relieved that my family and friends are safe; a few of our friends suffered some property damage, but to my knowledge no one was seriously hurt and none of their homes were flattened.  That being said, neighborhoods I know and love have been destroyed and it will likely take a long time to rebuild.  For now, I'm hoping to support my community and help out when I'm needed.  I'm also saying a prayer to thank God that everyone I know is all right.  

To help with relief efforts, consider making a contribution to the Red Cross.