Harry's Gang: You can't read here

Not everyone is welcome at every library, apparently. Surprised? I was.

I love to read. In fact, if I could sequester myself in the library and have no other responsibilities, I would try to read everything in the place. I particularly love magazines, newspapers, and other periodicals. I probably got this trait from my mother, who read 3-4 books a week until her eyes no longer worked, or maybe my brother, Bill, who not only reads everything — he remembers most of it, too. I ask my kids all the time: Who is the smartest person they know? The answer is “Uncle Bill.” When I ask why, they know: because he reads a lot.

So, compared to Uncle Bill, my kids are curious why my choice of books leans to teen mysteries, pop culture and romance novels.

My neighbor, Meghan Kazmierczak, still teases me about the time she made a reference to the “Sweet Valley High” kids and I knew the characters’ names and plot details. I’d read all their books in the library in between studying during law school. I’ve read most of the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew books, and every few years I re-read the Little House series. My kids had Captain Underpants (I read them all, after they went to sleep) and, of course, Harry Potter. If I ever run for president and some reporter asks me about my favorite books, I’d say “All the King’s Men,” “Catch-22,” “To Kill a Mockingbird” and “Holes.” The last one is a young reader’s book my nephew, Tony, gave me, after he read it at 9 years old. “Here, Uncle Pete. I think you might like this,” he said. He was right.

So I didn’t feel it was out of the ordinary that I decided to pass the time at the Duluth library after dropping Patrick off at dance class. His class lasts an hour, and the first few times I waited in the Depot lobby, working on my laptop, until I realized I was squandering an opportunity to go to the library, right across the street.

Of course, I headed to the young readers fiction area first. I figured I could polish off one novel per week as I waited for dance class. Big mistake. Apparently, the library doesn’t appreciate middle-aged men hanging around the kids’ section reading teen romances. Clueless, I found a book I’d read as a young teen myself, and dug in. My son, Tommy, is approaching this stage, and I happily lost myself in my own youth and the young character’s story, thinking about Tommy and what was about to come his way.

The next thing I knew a librarian was standing right in front of me. Frankly, I didn’t look up, as the kids’ area is usually quite busy and librarians are always coming and going right by me. But her shadow darkened my reading, and she got my attention.

“We don’t allow adults in this section,” she said. At first, I didn’t understand. There were always adults in this section; in fact, just a few minutes earlier a family was loudly getting Spanish lessons right in front of me.

“Really?” was all I managed to say. She told me that the family section was reserved for families with children, or for people using the section’s materials. I showed her my Judy Blume book and she left. But a minute later, another librarian showed up, and this time she had security with her. “Some parents complained,” she told me.

I wish I could say I left quietly. But I did leave.

Fuming, I sat in my car for a few minutes. Apparently, middle-aged white lawyers are not welcome in the library, I said to myself. As I started to calm down, a new worry hit me. It had been 40 years since I last read that book — what happened to Tony? How does it end? I may never find out!

Patrick has another dance class today. I think I’ll dye my hair purple, put on some old clothes, and tie my purple/grey hair in a ponytail. I’ll blend right in, and maybe they’ll let me stay and finish my book.

Pete Radosevich is the publisher of the Pine Knot News community newspaper and an attorney in Esko who hosts the talk show Harry’s Gang on CAT-7. He can be reached at [email protected].