My Life in Libraries

I thought the other day, about the time Doug and I went to England in 2003. He had business there, choosing pine antique furniture and tables made from recycled wood. We went to a small town in the Midlands, called Leek. He felt he needed to do the business part on his own, and dropped me off to explore the village. We'd meet later at a pub for a late lunch.

Discovering the library, a very beautiful old brick building, I walked in and asked if I could use one of their computers so I could send off an email to my friends and family.

I was asked to fill out a form so that I could obtain a library card, since only patrons could have access to the computers. I didn't think I would ever check out a book from the Leek library, since we were just passing through, but what the heck? I could see my collection of library cards growing. Now that I've made a list of all the libraries I've known, (all the rest of them are in California), it brought back memories of each of them.

I was born in Berkeley, California, on Hopkins street, not far from the North Branch of the Berkeley Public Library. I remember my Mom taking me there, probably when I was about four.

I imagine that we looked at and checked out some children's books, but I recall the quietness there, except for the creaking of the wood floor, and a kind of smell of old books.

At ten years old, my Mama and Daddy moved us to El Cerrito. It was kind of a shock to me. I had plans for making a tree house in the plum tree in our back yard. But my Dad told me that there was a big pine tree in the new back yard, and he would help me make a nice one. Unfortunately pine trees are full of sap and not very condusive to climbing. Plus, they enrolled me in Fairmont School one month before I was finished with 4th grade. Being painfulIy shy, I promptly threw up on my first day, memorable for all in the class. Luckily, the El Cerrito Library was just across the street from the school. Mama got me my own card and we became regulars. The summer was better, and I became friends with my neighbor Nancy. She was two years younger than I, so we played imaginary games with dolls, swung on the swingset that my Daddy made for me when I was five, since he worked as a blacksmith at SP, colored in coloring books, and rode bikes together. Many a school project was studied about in the El Cerrito Library.

In Junior High, at Portola, I met my lifelong friend Carol Lindquist, who it turned out lived in an apartment with her mother and sister, directly across the street from the library. I thought she was lucky to live so close to all those books.

During my teenage years, I ventured back into Berkeley with friends, and went to the Berkeley Main Library infrequently. I had a card though, and was always intrigued by the two-toned greenish facade with an Art Deco design.

The thing that always bothered me were the plaques on the building at the corner of Addison and Shattuck. They both said Berkeley Pvblic Library. We always would make comments as we walked by, like, "It's a library for heaven's sake! Don't they know how to spell Public?"

In about 1972, my eventual husband Walt and I decided to move to South Lake Tahoe. It's another story to be told, but I had to first move up there by myself for the first month, since Walt had neglected to inform me that he had a ticket for one to fly to Costa Rica to stay with an old friend and his family on their ranchero. "It's the chance of a lifetime!" he said, "I'll even have my own horse to ride into the village!" Well, that left me experiencing for the first time, a cold, snowy winter and living alone until he could join me. I found a studio apartment in the basement of a family from Holland, and could hear their chairs scraping back from the table after their meals in the kitchen right above my bed. It was only $75 a month though, and they were friendly enough. I worked the graveyard shift in a casino coffee shop, so I had to get used to sleeping during the day. I forgot to mention that after I had moved to Tahoe, I showed up at Harrah's and they said they couldn't find any record of me. I thought I was going to work in the actual casino, but was assigned to ungodly hours at the coffee shop, clearing tables, and wearing a dingy yellow uniform. Thoughts that went through my head mostly were, "But I'm a medical assistant!" and "I've got to apply for every job other than this one!"

Going to the little public library in a tiny wooden building on Highway 50 was comforting to me. It was very small and sparse, so small that I had the silly notion in my head that perhaps I Could really read all of the books. In that month though, I only read two: Papa Hemingway and Life With Picasso. During one of my daytime naps, I remember vaguely that I sat in on a conversation that they were having with each other.

Back in the Bay Area in 1973, Walt and I had married and we lived in the Richmond Annex and I gravitated to the Richmond Public Library.

There was a kindly reference librarian who was always ready with answers and suggestions. I started writing for an arts and crafts magazine, and then for the El Cerrito Journal. Any local history I needed to know, I was bound to find there. I loved climbing the stairs to the second floor to decide on a biography to read, or books with advice on writing. I also tried to deduce where my book, some day would be filed. It would be in the R's, for Romer, since that was my name at the time. Later, when our two kids were old enough to appreciate a picture book, and then on to chapter books, they got their own cards. We made going to the library a bi-weekly trip, so their goal was to finish reading the stacks of books they had chosen. We made a list of each stack so we could make sure we returned them all, after reading aloud, books like "The Boxcar Children", "Amelia Bedilia", and the different stories of the "Berenstain Bears".

Much later, in 2021, my daughter Jennie Reilly Romer wrote a book, called "Can I Recycle This?" and I proudly donated a copy of it to the Richmond Library. Over the years I had kept in touch with a friend that both Jennie and I had worked with at the old Emporium store at the El Cerrito Plaza. I knew she was working in the children's part of the library, and made an appointment to meet with her and donate the book. Roseanne was delighted to hear of Jennie's success. Finally, I thought, a Romer could be found in the R section!

In 2004, I married Doug, and we took a nice trip in our Prius to Palm Springs to the mobile park that his parents had lived in. He and his kids all had wonderful memories of the pool, etc. I looked down my nose at the idea of living in a "trailer park", but his step sister found us a trailer that looked more like a beach cottage, and it won me over. A couple more perks of Ramon Park are that it has an exercise room and a little library. This one doesn't require a card, you can just take a book from the shelf and return it when you're done.

Soon, we discovered that the Palm Springs Library was really close. I got my card, and we spent time browsing a little stack of possible books to take home, while sitting in easy chairs by the tropical koi pond.

The tinkling of the fountain was a nice touch while we read. We didn't have a printer, so we used their computer room to make copies for taxes, etc.

I think it was that same year that we drove to Tahoe for a camping trip, once again sleeping in the Prius. Doug said to me, "I know you always loved living up here at Tahoe. Let's drive around and see if there are any little places we can afford." I was delighted until he focused on another trailer park. But, then a realtor showed us a nice condo, with a warm pool right out in front, and we fell in love.

It's really too warm to live in Palm Springs year round, so in order to afford our newly retired lifestyle, we planned on renting it out in the winter while we're down south, and also renting out my home in Richmond. So far, so good. People have told us we should give retirement lessons, so there you go!

Anyway, a beautiful new library had been built in South Lake Tahoe, with a view of the lake, and pine trees all around. There's even a sort of gong/drum set outside for children and adults to try their hand at. Inside, the librarians always have time to help you find books, and I've noticed the kindness they extend to apparently homeless folks trying to use the computers. Every time I've gone in I've noticed that there are always attractive displays of different genres of books to tempt you. Later on, when Jennie's book came out, they ordered it, and put it in the New Books section. Whenever I came in, I'd look for it and place it facing out so it would be more noticeable. Last year, she did a kid's version of her recycling book, and I found that they had ordered it too!

One of the South Lake Tahoe librarians.

Now I'm looking for where MY book will some day be placed....under H this time, for Harbo. Now all I have to do is write one.

A couple of years ago, we started spending some time in the summers at Capitola. This little beach town is chock-full of memories for me, since my family always used to come there each year for a couple of weeks to stay in my Grandma Diddo's cabin.

The little cottage we stay in now, is walking distance both to Capitola Beach, AND to the library. I suppose I've been enjoying reading even more now, "at my age", of 75. It's my goal to see all the different styles of authors. I won't have to read Every book, like I used to dream, but I'm hoping something will brush off on me. . . . .