Last week, I took my father back to his old school. For over 30 years, Dr. Owen T.P. McGowan was The Director of Library Services at Bridgewater State College in Bridgewater,Massachusetts. It was so much fun watching him take in all the changes. He retired about 20 years ago, I think. I guess I could use a fact checker.
We went into his old office. The current tenant had gone home for the day so my dad had a seat. How I remember THAT scene! I spent plenty of teenage Summers working at B-H20. One entire Summer I shoved metal strips down one book binder after another. It made the book buzz if it was trying to leave without a proper send off. My thumbs ached through September that year. When I think of my dad I usually picture him at his desk. It was good to see the old man back where he belonged,if briefly. He actually giggled as he took up his old post.
Here he is shaking hands with Kevin Manning. My father hired Kevin 23 years ago. Kevin's uncle was my pediatrician in Fall River (for the record).
I loved watching the retired librarian look around. He was having a blast.
So many different memories tend to assault you when you visit a place that you haven't been back to in years.I spent so many Summers on the Bridgewater campus! And then poof. I never saw the place again, until the other day. We had been separated for more than 20 years! When I was a kid,I was ALWAYS at The Clement C. Maxwell Library! The last time I laid eyes on that book lined building I was probably 19 years old. All or nothing, apparently.
I was flooded with memories. This one crept to the top. I reminded my dad too. He laughed about it now, but as I recall he was a little put off at the time. It cracked me up then, and it cracks me up now.
In 1981, my dad was in charge of booking all of Clement C. Maxwell Library's guest speakers for these theme nights at the college. I loved those nights. He usually secured authors (duh!). Occasionally, he would land a bold name. Seamus Heany stayed at our house!
Oooh, but David McCord has got to be the cutest poet who has ever spoken at Bridgewater. I loved that guy.
"Every time I climb a tree, I scrape a leg or skin a knee and then the ants! They get all over me. Every time I climb a tree."
I have every one of Mr. McCord's books signed "To Robin" "My dear Robin" "Good to see you again, Robin."
Not every author was so accomodating. My dad enjoyed the quest however. Long before email,one way to submit a request might be to hand write it, affix postage and push it through the U.S. Mail. Huh? What a lost art. I haven't gotten a real letter in years. It is so old fashioned and charming and...hang on,incapable of being deleted with the touch of a button. A hand written query has got some good old fashioned legs.
My dad wrote a little note to John Updike asking him to consider speaking at Bridgewater. It was close to Easter and the theme was Rabbits. About a week later, my father received a plain white envelope with no return address that was delivered to his office. Inside was a hand scrawled note, "Sorry. No Can Do. JU."
My father hadn't the foggiest. He brought the missive home. It was my sister,Mary,who finally pieced it all together. "Private Eyes" was the Number One song in the nation at the time. I can't go for that.
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