Jimmy Cochran Columnist

  I have always loved the library. As a young boy growing up in East Atlanta, my day was always made complete when my mom would pick me up from school and we’d go to the East Atlanta branch library. There I spent so many hours looking at books in the kid’s room and when I finally could go over to the adult side to find something, well, it was just the most exciting day of my life! It was there that I discovered the Hardy Boys, Bobbsey Twins, Freddie the Pig Mysteries, The Boxcar Children, Little Women and Little Men, A Wrinkle in Time and so many others that I still count among my favorite pieces of literature.

  Many important events of the world occurred while I was in the library, either at the public library, or at school. The East Atlanta library is where I was when the news about President Kennedy’s assassination was reported. I didn’t fully understand the impact, but the sight and emotions coming from the adults disturbed me so greatly that I wet my pants. I was mortified, but a nice lady took me aside and helped me. The high school library is where I had to spend some quality after-school time for a not-thought-out prank involving a group of juniors and a school bus. On one scary day in the Georgia Southern College library is where a group of freshman gathered to hear the annual draft lottery called out for us 18-year old young men during the turbulence of the Vietnam era.

  However, the most emotionally tragic thing happened back at my good ole’ East Atlanta Public Library. During the summer of 1965, our family moved from that community into the Cedar Grove community, in DeKalb County. From the city of Atlanta, to the city of Conley. In DeKalb County. My young mind didn’t realize the impact that simple move would have on my sister and myself.

  We went back later that summer to return books and check out new ones. When we entered the front doors of my beloved library, found our books and came to the counter to check out, the librarian smiled and said, “I saw a moving van out in front of your house recently. Have you moved?”

  “Oh yes,” we replied because we were so proud of our new house and new neighborhood.

  “To where did you move,” asked the smiling librarian.

  “Oh, to the Cedar Grove community down Highway 42,” we cheerily replied.

  “Oh,” said the librarian, no longer smiling. “That’s not in the City of Atlanta, is it? May I see your library cards?”

  We gave them to her and, to our horror; she got a pair of scissors, cut them into pieces, and told us we could no longer use the library. Basically, like the Soup Nazi of Seinfeld fame, the Library Nazi told us, “No books for you!”

  It took many years to overcome the trauma of seeing my library card destroyed at the hands of an evil librarian, yet fate laughed in my face and I ended up working in the Georgia State University Library for many years and now am at the Cochran Library in Stockbridge. Times have changed. Librarians are no longer the hair-bunned, black dress wearing, shushing women from the 1950’s. Librarians, as a whole, are nice, friendly and ready to do whatever we can to help you find a book, do your research for school, help with a resume or print off a job application. The rooms are bright and cheerful and we will never cut up a card in front of you because you moved, thanks to the PINES system.

  However, the one thing that will perturb even the most gentle-hearted librarian is to have their hours cut, resources cancelled and have to tell patrons, “I’m sorry, we can no longer buy these books or offer these programs.” The one thing you, as library patrons, can do is to pay your library fines. This alone can keep more books on the shelves, allow us to be open more hours and provide more programs and services. Just by paying your fines for keeping your books out too long. That’s all we need to be better, more efficient and happier librarians. And the world will be a better place with happy librarians. Except for that old crone who worked in the East Atlanta branch.

 

Jimmy Cochran is a resident of McDonough, a writer, musician and works for the Stockbridge (Cochran) library.