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One of my most staggering memories is from a few years after I moved out of the town I did my early growing up in, where I learned to read, where I got my library card. One could get a library card as soon as one could sign it, and I practiced and practiced my name, then Mom took me down, and I signed my own card. I could tell you the color of the ink, and the paper, and where the desk was in the tiny branch library. I could tell you where in that library the Oz books were shelved.
So a decade or so later, I was living in a different town, and watching the news, and they showed a huge chain being wrapped around the handles of the front doors for Redding's main library, and I broke down into sobs, without warning, all of a sudden. The county was out of money for the library.
It's open again now, but it was an intense moment for me, one I prefer never to see again.
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