Millions Bound for a Whole New Shelf Life

Five days a week, from morning until night, the big yellow vans disgorge their cargo at Los Angeles Central Library’s Hope Street tunnel--a long-closed entrance dubbed “Rat Alley” by library staffers, in remembrance of its former inhabitants.

Out roll the specially designed four-shelf book carts, with books-by-the-yard stacked upright on their spines.

A big fan whirs inside the dark tunnel. The carts are heavy, and the men sweat as they push them up the ramp to the two freight elevators that will whisk them to the proper floors. Each cart is numbered and color-coded.

Since June 7, most days have been moving day at the library, with 2.1 million volumes--and the shelves to house them--to be moved from the library’s temporary home on Spring Street before the Oct. 3 reopening of the newly refurbished 67-year-old downtown landmark.

In the tunnel, librarian Pat Kiefer, who is coordinating this $500,000 cross-town journey, exchanges greetings with movers and observes: “It’s just like a freeway. Loaded carts up the right, empty carts down the left.”

Among the movers are 225 locals, many of them young people, who were hired by the Connecticut-based moving company that won the job on bid.

This isn’t about moving books the old-fashioned way, in a few fruit-stained boxes scrounged from Ralphs. These books are being taken, unboxed, from the shelves on Spring Street and reshelved at 630 W. 5th.

It’s part of a carefully orchestrated transition that began with a first planning session in January, 1992. All of the library’s books--as well as magazines, videos and microfilms--should be moved by mid-July.

In April, 1986, an arsonist (who has yet to be caught) set a devastating fire at the library. When the debris from that fire, and a second arson fire a few months later, had been cleared, 400,000 books had been destroyed.

Another 700,000, soaked through, were popped into deep freeze to stave off mold. Almost all survived, to be defrosted, cleaned up and put in their places for opening of the temporary library in May, 1989. Now, they’re going home.

But the 67-year-old Central Library, after its $214-million face lift, will not be the musty, gloomy--albeit historic--place it was pre-fire. Years’ accumulation of grime has been washed away, including the gunk that covered the Christopher Columbus murals in the grand rotunda.

At 540,000 square feet, including the new Tom Bradley Wing, the library will be twice its original size. And it will be air-conditioned. There will be a spiffy cafe in the new garden on Flower Street, a 250-seat auditorium, 900 underground parking spaces, an upscale book and gift store and possibly a fast-food arcade.

And the once-staid facility, taking its cue perhaps from the world of sports, has gratefully accepted money where it was offered: thus, the KLOS Story Theater, the Robert F. Maguire III Gardens.

But the decision to name the rotunda for Lodwrick M. Cook was an affectionate tribute to the Arco CEO and chairman, who headed a Save the Books campaign that raised $10 million to replace lost volumes.

Library commission President Douglas Ring noted that it was somewhat untoward, and in violation of city policy, to do so, despite Cook’s good works.

By tradition, Ring observed, it’s an honor reserved for elected officials, especially those who “promise never to run for another office,” or for military leaders. And, he added, “We are extremely good at naming facilities after people who are dead.”

All of which prompted Cook, who just celebrated his 65th birthday, to reply, “I’m awfully glad I didn’t have to meet those three criteria.”

Although the fire did destroy some irreplaceable works, it also served to fast-forward overdue modernization. Joan Bartel, assistant director of central library, explains that, as one of the last major libraries to have state-of-the-art automation, it has benefited from recent developments.

Checkout will be expedited by bar-coding of books, just as ketchup and cat food are coded at your local supermarket.

When fully functional, the library’s on-line computer will be able to track every one of the 6 million titles at Central and the city’s 63 branch libraries. Patrons with computer modems will be able to access the library’s catalogue--including titles on order--and reserve books without leaving home.

Before, says Bartel, “we didn’t know how many copies we had, if they were in or out” or when they were due back.

In time, home printers will spew out printouts of requested articles. The fee will simply be charged to the user’s credit card.

The old wooden card catalogues are history--well, almost. The 1,100 catalogue drawers in the walls of the rotunda will remain. For $1,000, one may have a plaque with one’s name installed on one those drawers that used to say “Aardvark to Amorous. . . .”

First dibs will go to those buying $500 tickets to the pre-opening dinner gala Oct. 2. Other events in a month of celebrations will include a public festival Oct. 3, a Carl’s Jr. blowout for kids in the new children’s theater and a demonstration of Mexican cooking--in English and Chinese.

The new wing, with its airy eight-story atrium, is designed to be more user-friendly. (But not too . Staffers hope they have seen the last of some of the eccentrics who inhabited the old library, among them “the rubber man,” who wore an inner tube, and the self-styled male pedicurist who used to sneak under tables to paint women’s toenails.)

If there are no glitches, all the books will be moved in by mid-July. So far, says library spokesman Robert Reagan, there has been only one casualty: “They can’t find the innards of the Madonna book. They found the cover.”

He adds, “There are no candlelight vigils over this.”

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This weekly column chronicles the people and small moments that define life in Southern California. Reader suggestions are welcome.