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Day 42, Tuesday March 26: Seattle, Washington

Carnegie libraries visited: Greenlake, University, Fremont, Queen Anne, all in Seattle, Washington


Seattle once had eight Carnegie libraries, and six continue checking out books to those who want to read. I visited four of them today, along with a dozen others. Seattle loves its books and its libraries.


Not that the love always comes easily. When the locals began planning to build the Queen Anne (Carnegie funded) branch library, they became enmeshed in arguments as to where the library should be located. The Queen Anne Civic Study Club, a women's group, found a site at 7th Avenue West and West Garfield and received a pledge from Seattle Daily Times publisher Alden Blethen (1845-1915) to buy it. According to a history written by David Wilma, several other sites were favored by other partisans, 


[t]here followed an acrimonious controversy among supporters of various locations -- East Queen Anne versus West Queen Anne. A "mass meeting" at Queen Anne High School in January 1912 "grew heated at times" and partisans levied accusations of corruption. After more than a year with no decision, concern rose that the lack of progress would result in the gift being withdrawn."


Finally, a site that ranked last on a list of suggested sites – but fortuitously located between East and West – was chosen and purchased. 



Frances Louise Holmes was the first Librarian of the Branch and for the first six years her reports were handwritten, as the library did not provide her with a typewriter until 1918. Her quarterly reports tracked the library’s performance in terms of books checked out and library cards issued. Holmes sought to explain the variations in these numbers through a community history: events in the weather and the world as well as ones specific to the library. The library had a chronically cranky furnace.


Again, from Wilma, details from Holmes quarterly reports:


Holmes had very precise ideas about conduct in her library and described children talking as one of the problems. She valued stability among the staff and complained, "A new page seems to upset the regular routine to a great extent for a short time." The Librarian of the Branch was not all negative however. "One Jap[anese] has been back twice and each time brought and carried away his books wrapped in a white handkerchief, whatever his motive, the Americans might learn a lesson in carefulness" 


When Edith Hile took over in 1920, she faced a problem not uncommon to parents and teachers: youths and vandalism. In her case, the kids gathered inside and outside the library and caused ruckuses. In February 1923, she had to call the police to disperse them. Henceforth, the library was part of the police’s routine patrol. And neither rain nor snow nor sleet keeps librarians from their appointed rounds. On Valentine’s Day in 1923, a blizzard immobilized the streetcars, so Children’s Librarian Catherine M. Lanning walked to work from her home on Capitol Hill, a distance of some three miles. Yes, the library opened late and closed early, but it did open. 


Librarian Eleanor Hedden guided Queen Anne through the Great Depression, despite having her pay, and funds to buy books, slashed. The depression cost many jobs and yet it did not kill curiosity. Hedden reported that the library had its highest-ever book circulation in 1932.


As a consequence of heavy patronage and no book budget, the Queen Anne collection took a beating both from normal wear-and-tear and from abuse. When Hedden discovered that a book on costumes had been mutilated, she trooped over to Queen Anne High School to complain to the principal. Then she interviewed 10 instructors to see if the missing pages had appeared in course work, "and stressed the bad results of illustrated notebooks" [as reported in her quarterly reports]. Thereafter, Hedden kept picture books in the office and allowed their use by patrons only within the branch and only upon presentation of a library card. Borrowing declined from the peak in 1932, partly because there were no new books.


Ruth Norris led the library during the World War II years.


“With war industries gulping down our readers," Norris reported, "war tension occupying their minds, and gas rationing making library trips inconvenient and time consuming, little wonder that we scraped the bottom of the barrel of customers. Little wonder then only the tenacious and hardy, the near-by, or the perennially indolent remained."...The War impacted Norris' staff too. With so many young people in the military or in war work, "Untrained assistants are younger, slower, less responsible, less accurate" [according to Norris’ annual reports].


All was not bleak, even during the global conflagration. Norris reported that Queen Anne’s custodian planted vegetables among the ornamental plants on the library’s grounds. The resulting produce "added a piquant touch to many an otherwise dull meal" [from Annual Reports].


Librarian’s answer questions. One student asked for help finding information about a town in Europe. Norris learned that the student’s older prisoner was being held as a prisoner of war in that town, and the family wanted to learn more about it.


Here’s the list of those who have served as the Librarian of the Queen Anne’s branch. With the exception of “Regional Management” (hmmm) between 1977 - 1990 and Bob Hageman (2007 to the present), all were women: 

  • Frances Louise Holmes, 1914-1919

  • Bertha J. Randall, 1919

  • Elizabeth Thurston, 1919-1920

  • Edith P. Hile, 1920-1928

  • Mildred O. Miller, 1928

  • Ferne H. Harris, 1928

  • Eleanor Hedden, 1929-1942

  • Ruth Norris, 1942-1946

  • Weyana (Lopp) Schaal, 1946-1951

  • Floy Mathis, 1951-1960

  • Dorothy Welbon, 1960-1962

  • Maud G. Forberg, 1962-1971

  • Glenna Martz, 1971-

  • Regional Management, 1977-1990

  • Val Frye, 1990-2001

  • Sybil Harrison, 2001-2002

  • Kristin Cole, 2002

  • Lynn Daniel, 2003-2005

  • Jean Johnson, 2005-2006

  • Bob Hageman, 2007-present


Twenty librarians (if you count the longest serving “Regional Management”) in 100 years? Was the library a hostile work environment? A step to the next stone? Who knows? I’ll write and ask…maybe the librarian will.  


In 1971, Sally Goldmark, then the President of the Madrona Community Council in eastern Seattle began to work with Seattle Library Board member Betsy Darrah to bring a library to that neighborhood. Using a small grant from the state, they set up a library in a vacant storefront. Two college work-study students staffed it. That effort lasted only a couple of months, before patronage slumped when schools opened for the fall semester. Undeterred, Goldmark kept pushing the bureaucracy to fulfill her vision, and a permanent library opened in 1973. After Goldmark died in 1985, the library was renamed the Madrona-Sally Goldmark Branch Library in honor of her efforts. 



When I asked the librarians about Sally Goldmark, they told me that she and her family were deeply affected by tragedy. On Christmas Eve in 1985, shortly before her son and his family were to host a dinner party, a terrorist invaded their home and brutally murdered them. He believed that the Goldmarks were Jews and communists, and that murdering them would serve an American First strategy. They were neither. Their parents, Sally and John, had been accused of being communists when John ran for reelection to his position as a representative in the state legislature. The local newspaper Tonasket Tribune had written that John “was a tool of a monstrous [communist] conspiracy” and he was soundly defeated. Afterwards, the couple sued the newspaper and the state coordinator of the John Birch Society for libel and was awarded $40,000. At one point in the trial, a witness testified that Sally’s fondness for folk music was evidence of her communist sympathies. Ultimately, the judge overturned the award on the basis of a Supreme Court ruling that public figures could not win libel cases unless they showed “actual malice,” defined as printing statements “with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.” I’m no judge, but it seems to me that Goldmark's opponents fell into both categories.


The AA meeting I attended today had yet another vibe. It was an ‘open’ meeting, so anyone could attend. Maybe 75 did, and there was not a woman among them. It soon became clear why: it was a total testerone fest. It was by far the loudest gathering I’ve attended before it was called to order. ‘Birthdays’ (the time spent in sobriety) were announced to raucous applause. Rather than speaking from their seats, those who wanted to share walked up to the microphone and people would shout out their nicknames (or maybe they just made them up on the spot). One guy took the mic and was heckled “hey, have you ever smoked any crack?” which cracked the crowd up. Another man shared his story, which included his son, also in recovery, who was in the audience. Frat antics aside, it is moving to witness all joining hands in a large circle at the end to pray, “God, grant me the serenity…”


I faced only one challenge today: chowder or ice cream? The Pike Place Market is famous for its chowder, and my friend Ian swears by it. But it was getting late, and dessert called me, so I popped by Molly Moon’s (motto: “Ice Cream Makes You Sweet”). The line snaking out the door was long enough to show how much people wanted to be sweet; it was not long enough to deter me. In honor of Women's Month, Molly’s featured ice cream recipes by Washington women. I chose one scoop of Patty Murray and one of Pramila Jayapal. Sweet, indeed.







 
 
 

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