After 21 years in public libraries I thought I had seen it all. In a matter of days, I went from having a meeting with my Board of Trustees on the remote possibility of our library closing to planning a meeting with my staff to explain that a closure was indeed happening.
My fellow library directors can attest that a book could be written on the things you were never taught in library school. You know what I mean—things like capturing a bat flying around the Children’s Room, or that vague thing called facilities maintenance. What do we really know about HVAC systems? In 2008 we went through the collapse of the housing market and the subsequent recession.
You can add crisis management during a pandemic to that list. Today we are dealing with “that which should not be named,” ie, COVID-19, or better known as the coronavirus. I will call it Voldemort.
To be honest, I thought that my colleagues who were sweating the coming of Voldemort were a bit extreme. Turns out I was the one who was wrong. Today, not a library in my region is open to the public. Unbelievable. I have found myself over the last four days hunting for toilet paper, stocking up on bread and pasta and other foods, checking my supply of Tylenol, and preparing for the worst. I am not a prepper. I am not Chicken Little. I will tell you that my concern began to deepen last week when my son Noah, who was home on spring break and who is a freshman at Bethany College in West Virginia, received word that he was not to report back to college. And then the schools closed for three weeks, and they canceled the NBA season, and then Voldemort visited Tom Hanks. Seriously! Yesterday my family and I drove down to Bethany to get Noah’s books and things from his room. The campus was deserted and it was sad and a bit haunting. If you have ever been to Bethany it DOES look a lot like Hogwarts. We stopped in Wellsburg at a Kroger to pick up some things and the place was a tad too busy for a Sunday morning. People had that look in their eye that made me uneasy. They were stocking up—just like us at home and it was all unsettling. So we made it home and I was of course glued to my phone. Checking Facebook, CNN, and watching the Governor’s press conferences. I felt anxious and fearful. Then, I heard my youngest son say, “Dad, we are going to go and play Wiffle Ball out back.” I said OK and pondered the next dreaded news update.
Then it hit me. There is NOTHING I can do about this right now but go outside and play Wiffle Ball with my three boys. So we did. For a few hours I kicked Voldemort to the curb and we ran and laughed and played ball.
Monday, we had a mandatory staff meeting to explain that we were indeed closing. Shock was evident but I also noticed a collective sigh of relief from many. Like many of you, I spent the last few days answering emails and phone calls from media outlets. I had to explain to our staff, as well, why library leadership made the decision they did. Looking into their eyes, hearing their concerns, and knowing their hearts, I know we made the right decision. I care for these people and want them to be safe. I care for our patrons who give us purpose. I care for our families and those who depend on us.
And then the magic happened.
We began to brainstorm together how we can change our services to meet the needs of our patrons during the closing. From keeping our Storytimes going using Facebook, to boosting our WIFI signal so people can use their laptops and phones in the rear parking lot, to using our Little Free Library to house the daily newspaper, to shifting materials purchasing to various digital platforms—we worked together to make our situation for the community a tad bit better. That’s what librarians do!
I mentioned at the meeting that Denny, one of our longtime patrons, was in on Saturday and how he just got word from the doctor that he is cancer free. He said, “You know, people ask me how I do it. How I deal with six straight years of cancer. Of getting bad news and good news and more bad news. They ask how I just keep going. They say, ‘Denny, I could never be that strong. I couldn’t do it.’ I tell them, yes you can. You never really know how strong you can be until you are in that situation-that you are stronger than you think.” Seems fitting for dealing with Voldemort, wouldn’t you say?
Towards the end of the meeting, Paula, our Adult Department Manager, shared how much it hurt to know that many of our regular patrons would not have a place to have fellowship, to read the daily paper, and to have someone to talk to. She shared Hebrews 13:2, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” And right there another staff member named Robyn-who just started the week before- offered to make calls to our elderly regulars to check on them and to reassure them that we WILL open again. We work in libraries because we care for people—our patrons and each other. We know that what we do is more than just a job; it is a chance to be an angel for someone. And as long as we are doing that, Voledmort can never win.
Dover Public Staff, Fall 2019
Jim Gill
Director
Dover Public Library