The House of Hebe

The Fifth Street entrance to the WPL. It was the building's main entrance until 1987
when the Johnson Street entrance was opened to alleviate congestion.

This is going to fall into the "Why would I care?" category for potential readers of this blog.

The Winona Public Library was a special place for me as a child and a younger man. When I was young, it was a place where I could be quiet–nay, expected to be quiet!–and not have to fear the oratorial repercussions from anyone regarding such, and how not running at the mouth at all times is somehow less than what I should be contributing to society as an upstanding, normal human being. (This was a frequent discussion had at me by teachers, parents, friends of my parents, parents of friends, other students, for most of my first 18 years.) It was a place where learning was fostered and exploring other worlds, other points of view, and thusly broadening and questioning my horizons as a bi-product, was de rigueur, and the other side of the mirror as far as the environment I was subjected to at home.

The second floor book shelves. You can see the little red
skull icons on the spine tags on the right. There are little
red rocket ships for science fiction / fantasy as well. 

 If you want more historical information on the building, you can read an excellent write-up here, on the WPL's own website. These pictures were snapped this past August, when I stepped inside to revisit for the first time in decades. It looked about the same, though, as the old cliche goes, somewhat smaller than I remembered it.

The glass floors of the third and fourth floor book rooms.

Before the Winona Middle School was condemned (a long overdue decision, believe me,) it was right next door, nestled up against the back of the library. When I was in junior high, as soon as the bell rang for the day, I would often walk next door and set myself up in the reading room with a small stack of books until someone could pick me up.

Statue of Hebe in the Reading Room.

The Winona Public Library was where I fell in love with dinosaurs and where I found the Crestwood House monster movie books (pictured below), based on classic monster movies from the 1930s and 40s. I must've checked each book out about a hundred times. Apparently they've become quite the collector's item, as they're going for ridiculous prices on Amazon and eBay.  It was simultaneously mind boggling and comforting to know that there were other people out there that had somehow cultivated the same tastes I had; even at nine years-old it was reassuring that the world didn't just cater to the standard set of interests that seemed to be endemic to most of the people I met or knew. Here were books that fed these interests, in a place where I wasn't judged for indulging in them, while at home I was often lambasted for liking "monsters and make-believe", when the preferred route prescribed by my parents was more in the areas of discharging firearms and riding ATVs through mud pits.

The Winona Public Library is where I met Tarzan, Johnny Dixon, The Shadow (there were cassette libraries in the books-on-tape section with old time radio shows on them), Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, James Bond, Stanislaw Lem, Charles Beaumont, H.P. Lovecraft, Terry Pratchett, and so many more. When I became interested in art–really interested, not just copying images from comic books into notebooks to see if I could draw Wolverine the way the pros did–it was where I went to learn about art: art history, different artists from different time periods, art techniques...anything beyond the ubiquitous Terry Redlin and Maija prints that my relatives and their associates seemed to believe were the sum total of true artistic expression.

Factual information and education seem to have fallen into disrepair in the world around me. I know that that's a sweeping generalization made by an aging misanthrope, but we have these alleged wonder machines in the palms of our hands that are supposed to be able to connect us to answers–any answer to any conceivable question–in mere seconds, but what we've cultivated is a planet actually utilizing "alternative facts" and so distracted and disconnected from each other, that someone actually had to create a visual calling program called Facetime, so people could actually engage in some without pulling their eyes away from their cellphones. 

But I digress.

I think it's important that libraries remain an accessible social institution. We need houses of knowledge and resources and wisdom and escape that cater to all people from all walks of life on the same level. It's important that we have impartial knowledge to pass on to future generations, should, heaven help us, they be interested in "actual facts" at that point.

Long live the public library system, and long live the Winona Public Library; the refuge for an introverted child with interests and ideas beyond counting out life in increments of factory shifts between beer binges, hunting trips and "reality television".