Sanctuary

Recently, The Common Man has staked out a spot in beautiful Schlow Centre Region Library, located conveniently in downtown State College, to do some mid-day studying/work. The facility is less than a full year old and is a fine combination of sun-lit porticoes, cherry bookshelves, and grand vault ceilings. Friend of the blog, snarl, would love it, or at least appreciate the inviting practicality of the space that merges its books with its reading space. It has been, for the most part, a quiet and convenient place for him to study without having to worry about bumping into colleagues or students who will interrupt his work.

That said, The Common Man is more than a little interested in his fellow library-enthusiasts. Indeed, day after day, The Common Man sees the same people walking and sitting about the library, engaged in various combinations of sleeping, grunting, walking, and reading. Because it is free and quite and pleasant (warm in the winter, A/C'ed in the summer), it seems that the least fortunate and most harmless nutjobs in the State College area flock to it in droves.

Right now, I'm looking at a 60ish woman in a brown and red flowered jacket, who gives the appearance of total normality. Yet, two days ago, when she encountered a fellow library lover, she stood and talked to him (her talking, him listening) for at least 20 minutes with no pauses for breath. It was amazing. A true feat of endurance. Today, she appears to be wondering through the stacks with little direction, weaving through them, slalom-like, not even glancing at titles or authors. Earlier, there was a gentleman, balding and with a short beard and over-sized glasses, walking up and down the aisles of the adult section, mumbling to himself and swinging his arms back and forth. Oop, there he is again, grabbing a reference book, saying "there I'll get this one. (inaudible mumble)," and walking away. There was an elderly gentleman in the chair next to The Common Man until 5 minutes ago who simply grunted again and again, every 15 to 20 seconds. And The Common Man has not even begun to talk about the homeless gentleman with the long, unwashed hair and beard that has been using the library this week. These "clients" are here with no real discernible purpose (not that The Common Man has one, mind you, aside from finishing his work for the semester).

The Common Man does not wish to make fun of these people and, certainly, none of them are cause for alarm. After all, this is a public building and they are the public (indeed, they are the public who do not work during the day and can, therefore, afford to come to the library). They are not terribly disruptive and seem to keep to themselves. They are weird, but not weird-bad, just weird-noticeable. But The Common Man wonders who is looking after these people after the library closes and where their caretakers are during the day. The library seems to have become a kind of makeshift refuge for those who are normally unable to care for themselves. That, of course, is not the library's job, but it seems to be one that it has accepted willingly.

Anyway, it is far too easy for us to forget these people exist. Indeed, I assume they head home after 5:00 or so, this being their only public appearance of the day. It's also easy to assume that they like coming the library every day, rather than wonder if they are coming to the library every day because they have no other place they can go where the poor, old, and indigent can simply be without buying anything. This town needs more places like the Schlow Memorial Library. More parks. More museums. More public spaces.