A Bridge Away From Home

I am participating in this month’s WordPress #WordPrompt: Bridge

At age eight, I felt lucky to have my street dead end directly in front of the the local library. It was still two very long blocks away, but I would fly there on my Hollywood-model Schwinn and park it in the front bicycle rack that was always bent on the left side. That must have occurred in some unfortunate car-meets-bike-stand encounter since the library sat on Lee Road, a commercial corridor lined with local businesses. I had to cross carefully as there was no traffic light to guide me.

Once safe on the other side, however, it was like I had crossed a bridge, away from problems and troubling patterns ingrained in my home and right into a timeless pool of memorable characters and fantastical possibilities.  

I would run up the steps, slipping through the rotating glass door, past the Circulation Desk where a woman wearing cat-eyed glasses and a smile said “hello.” Turning left, I would walk into a large room with bookshelves as tall as Abe Lincoln and run to the “Just Returned” shelf or the Mystery section.

At age 8 and 9, I was enamored with a certain crazy, pig-tailed, strong-willed girl named Pippi and a young male detective named Encyclopedia Brown.   But I was open to stories in the New Books area like From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. I thought living in a museum and collecting coins from a fountain for money was the cleverest adventure of all time; until I burrowed into the alphabetized “R” section in Fiction and discovered Swallows and Amazons by Author Ransome. That story may be the greatest treasure I ever found in that library.

Once I made my selections, I would take out my yellow library card and return to the kind librarian with the cat-eyed glasses and check them out. Then it was back over my imaginary bridge, books under my arm, stories ready to take me to a thousand far-away places.  

My preferential spot for reading those books was in my backyard; my second sanctuary. There was no treehouse, but there was a tree, and I climbed that tree, book in hand, scooting into place on the second-lowest main limb. There was a place I could stash a cookie or a drink. Finally ready, I would lean back on the trunk of that tree, it always supported me, and from there, I would go on to survive a shipwreck with The Swiss Family Robinson or learn more about being a girl with Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.

Eventually, I grew up, attended college and permanently moved away from my childhood town. By then, I understood things about alcohol and addiction and all the self-hatred that ripples out from that; something I was unable to understand as a child.

Photo Credit: Cleveland.com

Long after our house was sold, I returned a handful of times and always drove down my street. I was surprised during one of my last visits to see an actual bridge over Lee Road. It had been built just south of my imaginary one. It was a skyway bridge, the kind that connects between two buildings.

It’s beautiful and modern and serves as a gateway for new generations of readers. I feel loyalty towards the old one though. It offered safe passage from a confusing world to an enchanted one. It took me anywhere I needed to be.


This is a still image from a GIF titled Vintage Read held by the US National Archives. I’m including it because the girl just happens to look exactly like me with the bangs and hair color. The image details match my 60’s era library visits too. I guess I like to think she could be me.

The GIF:



  1. This post is so nostalgic and evocative of my love of books too. Remember card catalogs and stamps on books checked out? Those were the days.

    I like the Giphy too. Curious, dark-haired girl with an insatiable desire to let books transport her hither and yon, even across bridges! A great walk down memory lane, Melanie! 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    • I can still hear the double sound of the stamper releasing and stamping! I’m so glad the nostalgia within the story resonated with you Marian. We are part of the same “book club” where members only need to be book lovers and feel joy with the promise of of each new book borrowed (or downloaded. 🙂 ) Thank you for a very kind comment. ♥

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I LOVED this nostalgic look at your childhood connection with your local library! And yes-the pic absolutely looked like a young Melanie! I think that much like you libraries are still the “calm eye of the storm” for many children going through a harsher adolescence than their peers. I’m so happy that you practically had one in your back yard. While I’m not glad about some of the reasons you found yourself there….I’m happy about the author it produced! I enjoy your writing so much and hope that the library that was instrumental in forming your talent is still there for others and their own journeys. I read a quote that said something to the fact that libraries are the only big box institutions that lure people in without wanting them to spend money! So true.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ha! I had not heard the quote about libraries – they do continue to be a free experience. I remember taking mom to the library just a few short years ago and as she took her time in the aisles, I would sit and soak in the ambience, it was incredibly peaceful for me. I’m pretty sure I know where that comes from!! Thanks for your enthusiasm in “meeting” a younger me. I know she was not even close to being the only one dealing with tough issues, but she definitely found her way through it.


  3. Oh, I loved this post and identified so closely! My great aunt Incie was a children’s librarian and we could walk to the library in our small town, up the steps, in, head back, turn right and enter into the magical children’s room of the library where she worked. I, too, had a tree (no treehouse) in my grandparents’ backyard and alcoholism in the family. Books truly are a wonderful bridge to other geographical locations, other eras in history, into other people’s lives promoting empathy and understanding and of course bridges to the wonderful world of make believe and fantastical fiction, limited only by imagination. Thank you for this wonderful reflection on your past, gave me pause to reflect on mine. (check out my bridge posts at http://www.mtothe5th.wordpress.com) sincerely, Grace Day

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Grace for taking the time to share your thoughts on my bridge post. I am very happy that it resonated on such a personal level with you. It does sound like we had some similar experiences in our childhoods. And yes, you do clearly understand the magic of a book; where it can take you or inspire you. 🙂 I really do appreciate your kind comment. I’ll be happy to visit you as well.


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