By Joan Blewett, a Presque Isle Electric & Gas Co-op member
Growing up in Ishpeming, my family never lived more than three blocks from Ishpeming’s Carnegie Library. The library was the focal point of my life through grade school and high school, and I even worked there part time while going to Northern Michigan University.
If you turned right upon entering the library, you would encounter the stairs leading to the children’s room. The wooden stairs are about 8 feet in width and were worn down in the middle from years of use. Children would clatter down the stairs, a racket heard in most of the adult area. At some point, either patrons or a director had enough and the stairs were closed off and entrance to the children’s room was obtained through an outside entrance. The children’s room was located in what was once the basement. It was a pretty large space and when converted, it made for a wonderful children’s library. Once inside, oh heaven, the stories that awaited.
I read all the Nancy Drew, all the Hardy Boys, Bobbsey Twins, Freddie the Pig (the adventures of a talking pig who walked on his hind legs). There were several fairy tale books that went by color. “The Blue Fairy Tale Book,” “The Red Fairy Tale Book,” and a few others with a color in the title. I had to climb a ladder to reach them on a top shelf. No, not that kind of ladder that moved on a rail. A ladder like that in The Home Depot. And then there was every single horse book that I could find. Horse stories about a boy and his horse (think The Black Stallion series) or a boy and his dog (think Big Red), and there were stories of a girl and her horse, never a girl with a dog. There was a nonfiction book called “Drinkers of the Wind” by Carl Raswan, written in the 1930s about his time with the Bedouins and their Arabian horses.
One time when I was probably 9 or 10 years old, I was on my knees inching along the floor, checking out the bottom shelves of the non-fiction so as not to miss anything, when I came across a book by Roy Chapman Andrews. I was flummoxed. There were authors who used their middle initials, but never, ever had I run across an author who used his middle name. The book was about hunting for dinosaur fossils in Mongolia. Holy Moley! This screamed adventure! And he was doing this in the 1920s when it really was an adventure. Roy Chapman Andrews worked for the American Museum of Natural History in New York City and subsequently became its director in 1934. Holy Moley!
Ishpeming’s Carnegie Library, built with a grant from Andrew Carnegie, is but one of many Carnegie libraries in Michigan, the U.S., and the world. Opened in 1905, it stands in all its neoclassic sandstone glory, attracting local patrons and serving as another lasting tribute to the philanthropy of Andrew Carnegie. Holy Moley!
