“When the going gets tough, the tough get a librarian.”
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Possibly the nicest thing anyone ever said about me and to me was simply this: that I thought like a librarian.
In small communities like Agincourt, the profession of librarian evolved slowly. An initial impulse to have a public collection of books brought them out of the woodwork; indeed, they may have set the process in motion. There were few schools that taught “library science”, however, and systems for organizing books were often no more complicated than alphabetical order. I can’t even tell you who Agincourt’s first “keeper of books” may have been. There were probably several, like a relay race passing the date stamp for one to next.
There surely must have been someone approximating a librarian when the new building was planned in 1914, though it would be just like a building committee entirely made of men to imagine they know best. And she — yes, it was probably a woman — may have played a role on the building committee, at least I hope so. Too bad I can’t tell you who she was. Once I’ve had a chance to talk with Howard, I’ll get back to you, because this seems a gaping hole in the community’s story.
Could she have been a youngish, black librarian? An escapee from a more urban environment and the beneficiary of, maybe, an enlightened library board?
Consider it done. And recommendations for her city of origin? Perhaps a refugee from the South. We’ve already had someone from Caruthersville, MO (in the boot heel) who “escaped” from Southern prejudice—though perhaps to its Northern equivalent. Omaha had a substantial Black community and she would be the first emigre from that city.