1999

I have certain beliefs about our library district. I have tried to build a public institution that lives up to two commitments: first, to responsive, thoughtful, and cost-effective service; and second, to the promotion of individual staff growth.

I THINK we've succeeded in growing a mostly intrigue free environment that encourages employees to make good decisions for our patrons.

By Laurie Van Court

(Douglas Public Library District Director, Jamie LaRue, is on hiatus this week. DPLD trustee, Laurie Van Court, is delighted to take over his column today.)

As a life-long avid reader, I'm often asked, "how do you find the time to read so much?" I'm sometimes perplexed by this question, because it seems to me that the time usually finds me.

Unlike most of America's holidays, which are driven by Hallmark cards and commercialism, Thanksgiving hits me where I live: give me a great dinner, the warmth of family and friends, and I'm a happy man.

At a recent Library Board retreat (nothing fancy -- just a Saturday meeting in Castle Rock) we talked about two perennial concerns: containing costs, and growing new services.

One of the costs involves keeping in touch with our patrons. Our circulation -- the number of items we check out -- continues to grow by double digits. So we have to let people know when their holds have come in. We have to let them know when their items are overdue.

Some time back, I mentioned that I assigned my daughter a homeschooling project to trace the historical development of Christianity. The subject interested me, too.

Our first stop was the encyclopedia. I tossed off a list of possible entries (Jesus, Apostles, Pope, Luther, etc.). Then Maddy read aloud to me as I made dinner one night. Encyclopedias don't tell the whole story, but they give a good overview. Maddy made notes of other topics to follow up on.

Back in March, 1999, I wrote a column on a book my family was crazy about. It was the first installment of the Harry Potter series -- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone in America, or Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in England. Since then, my household has purchased the entire boxed set, including Ms. J.K. Rowling's two other books: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I've read and loved them all. My 12 year old daughter has read them all twice. My wife is working on the third one right now.

[Some years back, I wrote a Christmas column that I still think says what I want to say. So here it is again.]

What we really need is an all-purpose gift that will satisfy everybody. It should be suitable for all ages. It should require no assembly. It shouldn't need batteries. You shouldn't have to feed it. It should last forever. It should be constantly entertaining. The more the recipient uses it, the more he or she should like it.

And of course, it should be free.

Welcome to my last library column of the millennium. (I know, some people think that won't happen until the last day of December, 2000. Spoilsports.)

It happens that the idea of libraries stretches back quite a ways. The printed word has been around for about 5,500 years. The oldest library was probably that of the ancient city of Nippur, where the Sumerians stored over 30,000 clay tablets.

The Colorado State Library's Reading Readiness Project, using Federal funds from the Library Services and Technology Act, has recently published a brochure that should be required reading for anybody who has children. It's called, "Reading Tips for Parents."

If I walk to work the same way I usually drive, it's 3 miles. The shortest route -- just a little over one mile -- requires me to completely disregard property lines and walk along the railroad tracks. On occasion, I've done that, though I'm sure I shouldn't. It makes me feel like a kid.

Sometimes, though, such paths are not only the quickest way through town, they are also the most illuminating. Often, the distance between the facade of a town and its reality is a matter of a couple of blocks.