tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907737240492304428.post4400165246230306043..comments2024-03-28T16:52:31.923-04:00Comments on The Write Conversation: One Writer's Salute to LibrariansEdie Melsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03902312441667526147noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907737240492304428.post-44877433220465134152015-03-12T12:48:33.422-04:002015-03-12T12:48:33.422-04:00Every summer the bookmobile from our local library...Every summer the bookmobile from our local library made the rounds of the neighborhoods. It was the highlight of my summer week. I could check out three books. Those books were lifesavers. I grew up in a home filled with abuse and books allowed me to escape the hurt and pain. The bookmobile parked near a neighbor's house. She saw my love of books and supplemented my reading with classics from her own personal library. Years later, when I returned to my neighborhood, she confessed that she suspected that something terrible was going on in my house. I assured her that she blessed me with books. Heather Marstenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17442467779057850945noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907737240492304428.post-38049787950651147232015-03-12T10:18:40.817-04:002015-03-12T10:18:40.817-04:00One of my favorite books as a child was "A Tr...One of my favorite books as a child was "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn." My favorite scene was where she went to the library, chose her books, went home and read on the fire escape." Precious memories of my own trips to the library each week and the walk home with a new pile of books! Long live the librarian!Miriam Jones Bradleyhttp://www.miriamjonesbradley.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2907737240492304428.post-25723826794885844172015-03-12T07:53:00.368-04:002015-03-12T07:53:00.368-04:00When I was about 10 years old, my mom would drop m...When I was about 10 years old, my mom would drop me off at the library on Saturday morning, This was of course, back in the 50s, when it was safe to do things like that. Anyway, I'd spend the entire morning there, reading, carefully selecting which books I'd take home for that week. At noon, I'd cross the street to the Rexall Drug Store and sit at the counter to have lunch. Mom would pick me up there at a preset time. So my memories of loving the library run deep and fond. When my first book came out, one of my old high school friends, a librarian, ordered it for her library. What a thrill!! Thanks for the walk down memory lane.Southern-fried Fictionhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17274634359952391833noreply@blogger.com