Memories Remain : Library a Magic Place for Regulars

One scholar has called libraries “a perfect wilderness for the mind,” and the Los Angeles Central Library is no exception, say some of the thousands of patrons who have ventured into those venerable halls in the last 60 years.

Regular users of the historic landmark say they had found there over the years not only endless intellectual stimulation, but a feeling of comfort and well-being as well.

And while they lamented the destruction of an estimated 20% of the library’s 2 million books in last Tuesday’s devastating fire, they added that the knowledge and memories that they had already accumulated can never be destroyed.

Before the fire, about 3,500 people used the library daily. The library’s 200 employees last year answered about half a million questions for these patrons, and checked out to them about 800,000 books and other materials.

Made It Special

While volunteers and firefighters continued to salvage hundreds of thousands of smoke- and water-stained volumes, some of these patrons recalled what made the library so special.

Pat McDonald remembers with amusement using the library last year when she was trying to win a radio contest. One of the question’s was: Do bees enjoy classical music?

In the science collection, she finally found the right answer: Bees can’t hear.

While she didn’t win the contest, and while the tidbit of information “wouldn’t even make good party conversation,” the Long Beach resident enthused, “it was interesting. The library is like that. It’s crammed full of wonderful things.”

Tracing Family Genealogy

Alan Cummings, a 33-year-old administrative assistant at the Ahmanson Theatre, for several years has been researching his family genealogy at the library. Some weeks he spent hours poring over the library’s reference materials, which included copies of deeds, wills, ship registers, tax roles and census records.

“One day, I got a funny feeling and looked back and here was this woman peering over my shoulder,” Cummings recalled.

The woman boldly told him that the notes he was laboriously copying about a branch of his family that dated back to the Mayflower were wrong. A genealogy buff herself, the stranger launched into a detailed explanation of inheritance records that saved him from tracing his family back to the wrong branch and wasting months of research time.

Over the months, he and the woman saw each other often at the library, comparing family trees and chatting about their hobby, Cummings said. “There’s a community spirit there.”

Cummings added that he also liked the library because, unlike many facilities, the old card catalogue system was still in place. “The trend is to microfilm, but it’s hard to read and there is nothing like being able to thumb through those cards.”

Patrons who will now have to use local branch libraries and those at universities do not look forward to the prospect.

Michelle McGrath, a graduate student and colleague of Cummings, said she preferred the Central Library. McGrath, who recently did research on William Inge for an article in the program for “Picnic,” said, “I could always count on the librarians to come up with wonderful material and photographs.”

Denyse Specktor, a 35-year-old artist and former researcher for a film company, said the old building has a “calm serenity that you don’t get from the newer libraries that are made of glass and steel. It’s reassuring when the building you are sitting in is older than the items you are researching.”

Specktor, who researched many scripts at the library, including Robert Altman’s film, “Thieves Like Us,” noted that “it’s so important to have the facts straight for the movies. I remember one script I worked on which took place in New Orleans during the jazz era. I couldn’t find enough information and finally way back in the special collections, I found some wonderful photographs of the era that were just what I needed. That type of resource is just priceless.”

Alan Wolfson, a 34-year-old songwriter, said he has spent hours in the stacks looking at the Top 40 record charts in Billboard and Weekly Variety magazines from the 1930s and ‘40s.

Ebb and Flow

“I do it just for fun,” he said. “You can see the ebb and flow of the music business that way and they contain details you can’t get in music history books or summaries.”

John Gregg of Culver City, who was among the volunteers cleaning up after the fire, said: “This library was great because it had a lot of old books. Books a lot of people wouldn’t think were valuable.

“I’ve searched for books on old material sciences, and this is the only library that shows how these industries developed. Like the ceramic and tile industry here in the ‘20s, ‘30s and ‘40s, and the old cast-stone trade.”

New York City architect Philip Johnson, who designed the Crystal Cathedral in Orange County and is planning a new skyscraper as part of the library redevelopment project, said that while he never had occasion to borrow a book, he draws inspiration from the building, which was designed by Bertram Goodhue, who also designed buildings for the 1915 Panama-Pacific Exposition in San Diego and the Nebraska State Capitol.

Johnson said he is especially fond of architect Goodhue’s “gesture”--the library’s short tower, upon which is a finial in the shape of a woman’s hand reaching skyward with a blazing torch atop. Encircling the hand is a delicate serpent of knowledge.

‘Greatest Building’

“Whenever I’m in town I make a point to walk by it, because architecturally it is the greatest building in downtown Los Angeles,” he said. “In fact, whenever I think of Los Angeles I see that library.”

Fallon Evans is a Loyola Marymount English professor and author who has used the library for 35 years. He joked, “I always went by to see if my books were checked out.”

Evans went on: “I was sick when I heard about the fire because you read the library as well as the books in it. You walk in and stand at the catalogue files in the Rotunda and there are all those drawers with wonderful information in them.”

He said there were many little touches that made the facility “speak to you.” One was a photo of the library founders with the inscription, “Having passed on, they yet live.” Another was a marble bench strategically placed on the landing between the first and second floors. Inscribed on the bench were the words Dei Gratia (Thank God). Another very human touch in the library were the weary street people who often took naps surrounded by piles of literary journals. Evans’ own favorite hideaway to read and relax was the small patio off the children’s room in the basement.

But there was also another aspect to the library, he said. In a 1983 review of local libraries that he wrote for The Times, he applauded the grandeur of the building and the efforts of the staff despite budget problems. But he noted that “the library is obviously overcrowded and outdated and overly scary. One with even a little imagination cannot help but picture flames sweeping up through the grand rotunda.”