Libertyville

By Donald J. Richardson

Since the founding of the United States, voting has been of paramount importance to her citizens. Voting has been the true American act. Initially voting was reserved for certain citizens, people of property or of certain birth, nationality, or race. However over time voting has been accorded a privilege to everyone–men and women–of age. No longer was it restricted to those who could pay for the privilege or to Caucasians. Now everyone could vote.

Unfortunately, in 2022 not everyone believes in universal suffrage. Some Americans believe there are those among us who do not deserve to vote. Regularly they do everything they can to restrict voting to people who act like them, who think like them, and who look like them. They have fulminated against universal suffrage, trying to restrict it to themselves only. Often they proclaim fraud and even challenge certified election results, refusing to accept the will of the voters. In my opinion this is egregiously wrong.

It is the responsibility of every thinking American to cast his or her vote, to express an opinion which may go against the majority but which nevertheless deserves to be articulated. Both the freedom to vote and the right to vote matter!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665573658

Donald J. Richardson

Although he has long been eligible to retire, Donald J. Richardson continues to (try to) teach English Composition at Phoenix College in Arizona. He defines his life through his teaching, his singing, his volunteering, and his grandchildren.

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© 2022 Donald J. Richardson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/17/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7366-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7367-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-7365-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022919046

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

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CHAPTER

One

T he library was unimpressive. It was actually just a leftover room in the Jackson County Courthouse, a room which evidently no one claimed and which had not been used for years until the women of Libertyville petitioned for a library, a library which had no physical location. Thus, through inertia and expedience the room became a library. The holdings were few, of course, dominated primarily by donations as the small percentage of taxation went to pay the salary of Mrs. Wolner. The electricity was part of the court house expense, so it wasn’t a factor. The library was somewhat neglected after the ladies got what they wanted. It was ignored or left alone by most people. Few people in Libertyville actually read beyond an occasional newspaper, and those who did were decidedly exceptional, such as retired Judge Andrews. His voice, once raised loftily against oppression and injustice had been silenced by the heavy hand of time. Judge Andrews ignored Libertyville, and Libertyville ignored him in return. Little that he thought or said had any relevance to anyone in a position of authority. Although this was a type of reciprocal relationship, no one acknowledged it, least of all Judge Andrews who was content in his dotage to burrow in his little-used law books.

The library functioned after a fashion under the tutelage of Mrs. Harriett Wolner. She spent the somewhat predictable and empty days re-reading the classics of Charles Dickens and the Austens, content to revel in being generally undisturbed. Occasionally someone did come through the door, but usually it was someone looking for directions: the court room, the sheriff, or the district attorney.

Mrs. Wolner had been somewhat happily married for over forty years, but now that George was gone she no longer had any obligations to someone else. George’s stroke had freed her of the necessities of marriage, hardly any of which she missed. She was glad to be her own person, cooking one-person meals and willingly tending to Caesar, her emasculated cat. Life was good although somewhat predictable which it hardly ever was with George. Oh, she did miss talking to him, but beyond that—well, it was no sacrifice. And sex? No thank you—a burden to be borne silently and resentfully. Actually her life at the library was satisfying. People didn’t bother her unduly, and she appreciated the opportunity to re-read David Copperfield and A Tale of Two Cities. One third grader had begun to frequent the library, looking for books appropriate for an eight-year-old. There were only a few, so Mrs. Wolner tried to direct Jerilyn Thompson to books more suitable for an older reader but still accessible. Even though its grammar was horrendous, Mrs. Wolmer recommended Smoky, the Cowhorse by Will James. After all, it was a Newbery Award winner.

Older readers in Libertyville were sparse. In fact Mrs. Wolmer couldn’t name a single one. What did people in Libertyville do with their time? Surely not read. She knew that alcoholism was a factor in the lives of many working people, men especially, and the women were either oppressed by too many children or even work while trying to maintain a family and a marriage. They simply didn’t have time to read or much time for pleasure either when it came to that. Sex was a factor in all of their lives, men and women. Men saw it primarily as a fantasy world while women ended up with often unwanted offspring.

One afternoon, just prior to closing the library Mrs. Wolner’s solitude was breached by an older colored man. Colored people didn’t patronize the library with any frequency, so Mrs. Wolner was nonplussed to see him. In fact, the library was generally regarded as the province of white people, not colored. Colored people had their own habits and locations to frequent; the library wasn’t necessarily off limits to them, but it was an unusual spot for them.

This a library? The man asked.

Yes. Can I help you?

I’s just wonderin’—what’s a library for?

We loan books to people. You see, many people can’t afford books, and we loan them out.

I’s heard of books. But I never really seen one.

Here, I’ll show you. Mrs. Wolner pulled the dictionary out which she kept beneath her check-out counter. This is a dictionary.

Heavy, ain’t it?

Yes, but not all books are the same size. Some are quite small.

And you just let people take them?

That’s right.

How much do it cost?

Oh, it’s free. There’s no cost.

You just let folks take ’em?

That’s right.

What if they don’t bring ‘em back?

Usually they return them. But if they don’t we try to find a replacement.

Huh. You mean I could just take a book out?

Yes. What would you like?

Don’t know. Never really read a book before.

Well there are all kinds. Adventure books, fantasy, jokes. You name it.

You got any ’bout black people? People like me?

Oh, yes; we have all types. Why don’t I find one for you?

I guess that’d be all right.

Mrs. Wolner went to a shelf of books to look through them. Coming back, she held out a book. Here’s one written by a black man, Richard Wright.

You mean black folks can write books, too?

Oh, yes. In fact there are many books by black people.

What’s this one?

"Eight Men. It has eight stories about black men."

And I could just take it home with me? No cost?

That’s right. No cost.

I don’t figure that. Why you doin’ this?

Well, I like to help people educate themselves. That’s what reading is for.

How soon I gotta bring it back?

Usually we let people have a book for two weeks.

And then I bring it back?

That’s right.

Well. Oh, I’s Billy Jackson. I know how to read, but not very fast. Might take me a while to read this.

That’s all right, Mr. Jackson. You just bring it back after you’ve read it.

You called me Mr. Jackson.

That’s right.

Ain’t nobody ever called me Mr. before.

Then I guess it’s about time, don’t you think?

Billy turned the book over in his hand, studying it. Looks good, don’t it?

Oh, yes; most books are gratifying just to look at them.

Gratifyin’; what’s that mean?

It means pleasurable. Giving pleasure.

I see. All right. I try to read it, and then I come back. Maybe get another one.

You’re welcome. We have quite a few books to loan out.

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CHAPTER

Two

M rs. Wolner looked up as the door to the library opened. It