A View from the Stacks

I love to read. So, me and libraries go back a long ways, even if our relationship wasn't always the most cordial. My first real job was in a library. There I payed my way through college by working at the Xavier University library in Cincinnati, Ohio from 1964 to 1968. I started in their old library building where my first supervisor was a tall, skinny, taciturn, librarian named Mr. Wall. My job was to run up and down the tall, dark, musty, narrow stacks retrieving periodicals and journals for patrons. A couple of years later, after the new McDonald Library was built on campus, I graduated to the reference and circulation desks where I was able to interact with the public. I continued there until I got my Bachelor's degree. A few years later, I paid my way through graduate school by manning the circulation desk at the Health Sciences Library at Case Western Reserve University where I also obtained my MLS (Masters in Library Science) degree in 1974.

My wish at the time was to become a full-time reference librarian in a large city public library. But unfortunately, that was not meant to be. Even though I graduated with honors, I wasn't able to land a job. It seemed that for every professional position there were a hundred other applicants. And most of these required both an MLS degree plus professional experience. So, I was caught in a Catch 22 situation. I was also the victim of bad timing because I graduated in the middle of the 1974 recession.

Finally, a couple of years later, I did get a pre-professional, civil service job as a Library Clerk I at the new Southdale Library in Edina, Minnesota. I was assigned to work in their technical services department processing books and audio-visual materials. But it prooved very frustrating because I didn't get any chance to interact with the public. It turned out to be a disasterous experience since I was fired after just two months when I had several run-ins with my supervisor who didn't think I was catching on to my assigned duties fast enough. After, that fiasco, I gave up trying to get into the library field.

I think my most unusual library experience lasted from 1970 to 1973 when I moved back to my hometown Marburg in West Germany. There, thanks to the helpful recommendation of my aunt Lucie, I got a full-time job working in a large research library which had been relocated to Marburg from Berlin after the war. Called Die Staatsbibliothek Preussicher Kulturbesitz, it was located in a large, sprawling, ivy-covered building in downtown Marburg. There I was assigned to spend all day copying down German periodical titles onto small white index cards. However, I only worked there full-time for two months time because I found the work so mind-numbing and tedious that I switched to a part-time position during my remaining two years in Marburg. For those first two months, however, I had next to no human contact with anyone except a crusty, uncommunicative, middle-aged man with whom I shared a tiny, ill-lit room in a barracks-style annex. What made things even worse was the fact that he was a chain smoker. We had next to nothing to say to each other. My only relief came during a daily, twenty-minute morning tea-break and half an hour lunch. There at least I was able to meet some of the other employees. One of these was a friendly young woman named Esti who felt sorry for me and did her best to make me feel welcome. The only redeeming aspect of this full-time job was the fact that I earned a lot more than I had ever earned before in my life or would in the future.

After I complained to my supervisor about my stuffy room in the barracks, I was moved to a spacious, well-lit room on the second floor of the library. There I was surrounded by a constantly shifting cast of characters. One of these who befriended me was a man about ten years older than me named Jochen Filter. He had taught high school English in East Berlin until August of 1961 when the Berlin Wall was built, and he had to flee to West Germany. Unfortunately, it took him many years before he could see his folks in East Germany again.

Upstairs, I also met an eccentric man in his late sixties named Herr Buch who invariably

wore brown shirts. I did my best to avoid him after I found out from Jochen that he was an unregenerate old Nazi. I recall that he was always reminiscing about the good old days when everything was orderly and young people knew their place.

However, my favorite person in the big room on the second floor was an attractive young blonde named Gitte who always had something positive to say. She was the first person I felt comfortable confiding in. She almost always managed to cheer me up even when I was feeling down. I remember that she was always urging me to find another job. I had a quite a crush on her. But she already had a Greek boyfriend. So, we just stayed friends.

Life at the Staatsbibliothek, despite the dreariness of my work there, did have its lighter moments. I fondly recall one February week during Fasching (carnival time) when the employees, who were usually very formal around each other, addressed each other by their first names. They dressed up in all kinds of funny costumes, played practical jokes, and lost their inhibitions with the help of lots of beer, wine, Schnapps, and Sekt (champagne). At one point during that week, I even got a chance to play some American folk songs on my guitar.

During my two-and-a-half years at the Staatsbibliothek, I earned enough money to pay for both my tuition at the university and my living expenses at the German student dorm I lived in for two years. In the spring of 1973, I moved back to the U.S. to pursue my library science degree at Case Western Reserve. So, here are just some of the ways in which libraries have played a pivotal role in my life.