“When an old man dies, a library burns to the ground.” African proverb
Growing up, I loved summers and not just for the stereotypical reasons like no school or staying up late. The bookworm in me cherished the summertime because it meant enrolling in the summer reading program at the library.
I would go to the library once or twice a week to checkout new reading material. I don’t remember my top number of books read during the dog days or what I even read, though I vaguely recall one middle school summer checking out a hardback on voodoo that was later banned from the library system. Aside from having an affinity for literature, the incentives – bookmarks, gift certificates for personal pan-sized pies from Pizza Hut and coupons for Skate Country and Putt Putt Golf – didn’t hurt either.