Director Lanora Joslin, July, 2021

Lanora Joslin is Director of the Gladys J. Ritchie Library in Jacksboro. As one of the first people to share their stories with me, she holds a place of special importance for this project. And as these stories make clear, Mrs. Joslin and the library are also of special importance to the people of Jacksboro and Jack County.


The ideas for this project have been with me for a long time, but preparations began in earnest in the summer of 2021. I’d completed the ‘easy’ tasks–simple website, upgrading my audio/video kit, etc.–and, truth be told, I was a little intimidated by finally coming face-to-face with the real work of the project: people, their stories and the question of how to actually go about gathering them. How will people react when I try to explain who I am, what I’m up to and why? How will I get people to tell me their stories, to trust me?

Three memories floated in, and gave me pause, a laugh, and a spark. A professor of mine, Steven Carter of Tucson once told me: ‘Of all the people in the world, the one you trust the least, is the person who comes up to you and says with a smile: ‘Trust me.’ That gave me pause. But it also reminded me of one of my favorite lyrics, which gave me a laugh:

I pulled into Nazareth, was feeling about half past dead
I just need some place where I can lay my head
“Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?”
He just grinned and shook my hand. “No” was all he said [1]From the song The Weight, by The Band, recorded in 1968.  More here and here.

I was looking for a story, not a bed, but I imagined the reception might likely be the same. Then I remembered the advice my Mom always gave me, predating Nike by a few decades: “Just do it.” That was the spark I needed, so I got in the car, and drove to Jacksboro.

Apparently the two hours it took me to get there wasn’t long enough to build the courage to simply strike up a conversation with the proverbial ‘man on the street.’ So I chickened out, and rationalized that ‘the library might be a good place to start.’ And so it was, because that’s where I first met Mrs. Joslin.

I asked if they had a section on local history. Why yes, they did, she told me, ‘in fact we have an entire room set aside for that.’ I settled in with a couple books, and after a few minutes she came over to ask if I’d found what I was looking for. And that kicked off an hour-long conversation about the people of Jacksboro and its history; about why it isn’t spelled ‘Jacksborough;’ about how the two of us might actually be related, due to the generational connections between her family name (Hensley) and mine (Hicks)–more of the surprising ‘connectedness’ I often find; about how they’ve managed to keep the doors open–through budget cuts, pandemics and ice storms; about what to do when you win a fancy hunting blind in a raffle, but you yourself don’t hunt; and the real-life and heroic tales of patriotism and survival of her Father, a member of The Lost Battalion (2nd Battalion, Texas National Guard), held in captivity and forced labor for 42 months in the Pacific Theater of WWII, and with members drawn from Decatur, Wichita Falls, Abilene, Jacksboro and many other towns along the way from Dallas to Lubbock. So yes, Mrs. Joslin, I’d found exactly who and what I was looking for.


Do we really (still?) need public libraries?

If we’re going to talk about public libraries, let’s dive right in with a difficult question: Given the availability of information on the internet, and the digitalization of ever-more content, in varied forms, from every corner of the world, do we still need them? Proponents say yes, of course, because public libraries remain a foundational component of a literate, civilized society. Opponents might even agree, but argue that other needs, like improved healthcare, for example, are even more important; or that they should be privately funded instead of with public tax payer funds.

This ‘debate’ will go ’round and ’round, as will any debate over any important social topic that’s framed up in a yes/no, right/wrong way. One side will gather their evidence and their ‘experts;’ the opposing side will do the same, and then both will talk self-assuredly about their own ‘fact-based arguments.’ But whose facts? Their facts, or the other guy’s facts?

In other words: it depends. What makes sense for one town, may not for another. So let’s make it more specific: Should Jacksboro, Texas have a library, one that’s funded at least partially with tax payer funds? As of today, and according to the people and the tax payers and the benefactors of Jacksboro–whose opinions matter most–the answer has been, and continues to be: ‘yes.’ For me, that pretty much settles the debate.

Not being a resident, I don’t have a vote. If I did, I’d likely vote ‘yes,’ because I enjoy libraries, even though I also understand the argument of those who say they should be privately funded. There’s one important and additional consideration we might add, however: the question of who, specifically, is in charge of it; who runs it on a day-to-day basis. Because if the question was ‘Should Jacksboro, Texas have a library, that’s funded with some combination of public and private money, and run by Lanora Joslin? That one, folks, is for me a no-brainer: Yes! And here’s why.


“We stayed open during COVID…it was ‘essential’…people’s minds are important too.”

In April of 2020, the Public Library Association released the results of a nationwide survey of public libraries’ responses to the onset of COVID in 2019. According to the survey, 98% of libraries shut their doors to the public, and many have yet to fully re-open. The Gladys J. Ritchie library, in Jacksboro, has remained open throughout.[2]Public Library Association survey

“We stayed open during COVID.  We got a message from the state library, that was a suggestion that we close.  They didn’t say we had to, because different places’ libraries do different things.  And so I called them, and I said we’re the only place in Jacksboro, that our citizens can come and use public internet and computers.  There are a few others that offer one or two, but they were all closed, and most ’em by, you know, by orders to close.

People didn’t have time to make plans.  I mean, it was just here.  And Friday we found out they were going to close school on Monday.  And it just so happened that all four of us that work here, were here at that time.  They were about to change their shifts.  And we…I said alright, we’re gonna make a plan.  I said, I’m gonna stay open.  Kelly, out here, said I…I will help.  And so, we made our own rules, which…they were basically things we tried to do during flu season; cleaning everything after it’s used, and distancing, maybe not the six feet but not right up next to each other.  And we closed the font door and gates–people had to call–and we let in limited numbers at a time.  I talked to one of my senior citizen patrons the other day and she said “I don’t know what we would have done, if we couldn’t have come to the library and get books.”

And we didn’t charge fines.  And we didn’t limit…well nobody tried to take more than ten or twelve books.  But a family with children…we’d let a family in at one time and they would all check out books.  A lot of people lost their Hulu and Netflix and so our movies were checked out more again.  And you know…it was essential.  It’s not just people that provide food and things of that sort, but people’s minds are important too.”

Lanora Johnson on keeping the library open during the pandemic

“It’s because we love this place…the need for it”

Dedication, resourcefulness, compassion–these are a few of the words that come to mind, to describe my impression of Lanora Joslin and the way she looks after the library. To this list I was going to add ‘community’ but it seems like that word is over-used word these days, is it not?  But when you hear Mrs. Joslin’s stories, this is clearly a case where the shoe fits.

Shortly after she first took the job, Texas eliminated the regional library offices, collapsing the state’s library system from a 3-tier, state/regional/local system, to a 2-tier system of state-level offices, and local libraries.  The former regional office in Forth Worth, had provided broad assistance, including training, and importantly, IT support.  After its closure, all those tasks fell to the local libraries, but without any increase in budget.  And as she relates below, the local school district has also mostly removed its financial and operational support, for a number of basic infrastructure services.  In other words, the library is able to keep the doors open, because of the help provided by the very community it serves.  The library remains open today because of benefactors, of course, like the Gladys J. Ritchie foundation; because of the resourcefulness and business acumen of Mrs. Joslin, and her small and mostly volunteer staff, and because of some helpful patrons and members of the community. 

My point here, as I mentioned above, is not to campaign for more library funding–that is for the people of the town to decide.  I will, say, however, that if you’re looking for an example of government waste (and Heaven knows there are many), you’ll have to look elsewhere.  They’re taking a little, and making it go a very long way. 

“When I took this job, our regional office, the state library and my local board, thought the library was gonna close, because we took such a big hit. The school pulled completely out. That was thirty two thousand dollars, which was like two thirds of our budget then. And all the other things were much more. The school provided all our maintenance, all out janitorial, all our supplies, paper, toilet paper, everything, and they took care of our lawn…you know. Directors before me didn’t have to worry about any of that—it was just there. And that’s kind of what happens with some libraries too—it’s just there. You don’t think about it. But you sure think about it when it’s all gone.

Plus the state used to give us like, five thousand dollars, which then was enough for insurance. Well now I have to pay six hundred and somethin’ dollars a month out of that five thousand, just for insurance. And until this guy [a friend of the library] came along, I didn’t even get an [insurance] adjuster for any of it. So I mean there’s just so many things involved in it, so many expenses…I thank God that I had a restaurant for several years, and I knew about employee taxes, and how to stretch things, and that sort of thing. And I’ve had a lot of help from the patrons.”

This is what resourcefulness and community support looks and sounds like, Y’all

“The county gives me twenty thousand [dollars, annually].  I try to operate on five [monthly].  That doesn’t work every month, but we try.  We get by on very little anyway. Of course, this is a sad thing to say. I make the same thing I did 15 years ago when I started. But the saddest, is that my employees were all—except for my high school student, who was great, but my three adult employees, all had teaching certificates, and so do I. And they here worked for $7.25 an hour. It’s because we love this place..the need for it.”

On making ends meet…

You Reap What You Sow

A good example of community involvement and support came after the ‘Valentine Vortex’ that descended on Texas on February 14th, 2020, with record-setting low temperatures and a failure of the energy grid, leaving millions without power or heat for several days. Many of us, including me, suffered damage to our homes. I asked how the library had fared:

“So, it was really cold.  It got below zero a time or two here…..We had one frozen sink, and I was like…I forgot all about it being on a wall.  It’s in our meeting room back there.  But, the guy I helped [with his taxes and unemployment filing], helped me then.  Because it was the end of the day, and things were beginning to thaw that first day we came back.  And I’d checked everything else in the building, and everything was fine.  And I went back to make sure the back door was locked, and I heard water running.  And I went into the conference room, and it was built crazy.  They said it was for handicapped but I think it was just stupid.  It has a little sink, which is by the wall.  And then instead of a cabinet, or nothing under it so you could turn it off, it had a sheet of plywood screwed in with about eight or ten screws.  And so I went and got a screwdriver.  I was gonna do it, and I couldn’t even get the first screw, and they were so tight, they’d been there forty years.  And so I said, I’m calling my friend.  So I called him and he was at Possum Kingdom Lake.  But he has a guy that rents from him; they just live a block away.  He called him.  He was in here in, like, three minutes, had that whole thing unscrewed, and turned off and…so you know, that’s how we really survive here.  I’ve helped a lot of people through the years, because I taught school; I taught adult education at night; I owned a restaurant and had workers, and all of those people help me now.  You know, so that’s kind of…. [Q: Your reap what you sow?] Exactly.”

You reap what you sow

Developing our youth

I almost didn’t take a kid [part-time intern] this year.  Our finances are not where they should be…and I thought well I…it’ll just be me and Kelly for a while, that I have to pay.  And the lady that does it called me and said “Nobody is hiring these kids.  I’m having a hard time.” And I said okay, I’ll take this girl.  Probably one of the best decisions I ever made.  She actually tutored.  We got requests for tutoring.  I asked Aracely–she was a senior–I said are you interested? ‘Yeah!’  Well the first one, she just did on what we pay her.  But then the second little boy, his family gave her some more money because she did such a super good job.  And she did a lot of things.  She was very quiet when she came, and she’s gotten more assertive.  She wants to be a teacher.  And every kid that’s ever worked for me, I’ve been able to write a letter, and the university, whichever one it is, has always accepted them as library aids.

Keeping up with technology

As you might imagine, information technology has had a significant impact on libraries and library science. And after the elimination of the regional offices, the responsibility and the expense fell to the local libraries. I asked Mrs. Johnson about keeping up with it all.

“Years ago when I was teaching school, and they told me I had to use a computer to enter my grades.  And when I say years ago, I mean that was the beginning of windows, you know?  And we were terrified, I really was, of trying to use the computer.  But I had a great IT guy who came to my room, every day at my off period.  And it so happened that Kelly taught next door to me and we off at the same time.  She would come in and he would teach us things and we would write steps, you know? [Like you were in school.] Yeah.  And, now, I never would have believed that I would fix things on computers. [At the library}…we have a system called ‘deep freeze,’ to keep the server cleaned up; to keep ’em from downloading [viruses].  Yeah, all that kind of stuff.  It’s our protection plan for the public computers.  For our computers we have AVG and it works fine.  I get a lot of practice so that’s why I’ve learned…[You’re probably an IT technician now].  Not really, but I…[Not willingly].  Not on purpose, that’s right.”

Keeping up with technology

Fifteen years into a ‘short-term’ appointment…

“…never thought I’d be here; never thought I’d work after I retired, ’cause I’ve been here fifteen years, and I never thought…Well I told my board, I said you’re going to have to do something.  One of our bylaws is, when you are 70, you have to retire.  And I said but the problem is I haven’t found anybody that wants my job for me to retire.  And I wasn’t really ready anyway.  And I figured they wouldn’t be ready for me to go.  But…anyway…and so the judge said “Did you not know that nobody wanted your job when you took it?”  [Laughs]  So he said “When will you be seventy?”  And I said “three years ago.”  So they changed that one and I can be here ’til I’m 80.  So anyway it was kind of a funny thing, but…I love it; I like the challenge.  It’s good for me.”

Fifteen years into a temporary appointment…

On (eventual) retirement?

Toward the end of this day’s conversation, I asked Mrs. Johnson for her thoughts on retiring. I don’t expect her responses will surprise you.

“I’m old, and this is my job here.  I cannot leave this job as long as I’m physically able to come, until I get it [the library] into some kind of situation, where I feel like it’s gonna go onward.  And I’m not to that place yet.  I thought I would be, like seven years ago, but…and I just think…people just…you know people who have all the advantages at home, don’t realize that there are so many people that don’t.  And just like today when I walked in–some days it’s really quiet in the early afternoon, about the time y’all got here.  Some days you get not a minute.  I mean, I make a list every day about what I’m gonna do the next day.  If I get one thing on that list done, I should call it a successful day.  Because I’m here to help whomever needs help or attention–that’s what I’m here for.”

On (eventual) retirement?

Being careful what you ask for, and respectful of whatever you get

The above is just an excerpt of one of the conversations I’ve had with Lanora Johnson, who gave graciously of her time, to openly share her stories and experiences with someone she’d only recently met. It’s humbling for me, and I’m embarrassed not to have transcribed and posted this sooner.

Before this conversation, I was unsure if the entire premise of this site was even viable. Afterward, several questions had been answered; several lessons learned: First, to be careful of what one asks for, and to treat whatever one gets in return, with respect. The personal stories we’re entrusted with are precious. And to the degree we treat them as such, they’re also quite heavy–both in terms of emotional content and also just the sheer amount of work required to accurately transcribe and retell them–a workload I significantly underestimated. I believe the premise of this site is also validated–that if you slow down, and look around, great stories abound–the kind that deserve to be widely told, and that give hope for our future.

In very good hands

Public libraries in America face some difficult times and questions, perhaps unprecedented in their history. But one thing is certain: the Gladys J. Ritchie public library in Jacksboro, Texas, is in very good hands.

Much more to come…

References

References
1 From the song The Weight, by The Band, recorded in 1968.  More here and here.
2 Public Library Association survey