Your torn old books remind you of parents and grandparents, of your childhood, of high school, of traditions or travel or memorable moments. Your worn-out books are more than objects: they are physical memories of love.
In response to a column I wrote a few months ago about preserving worn-out books, readers sent in dozens of stories and photos—more than I can publish here. Here’s an example, and I thank everyone who wrote.
Chuck Haga of Grand Forks, N.D. (and a beloved former Star Tribune columnist) sent a photo of “Common Plants of Itasca State Park” published by the Bell Museum. “The back is ripped off and there are stains all over — sweat, coffee, rainwater, blueberry pie, bug spray — but he’s taken 40 or more trips around the park with me,” he wrote.
Carolyn Light Bell, Minneapolis: “I have thrown away many of my yellowed paperbacks and books, given them away, and donated them to the little libraries. But my tattered e.e. cummings ‘Complete Poems, 1913-1962’ represents a part of my life that I I once replaced the old one with a new one, trying to dress up my library. But it turned out I couldn’t bear to get rid of this old book.”
Karen Kelly, Edina: “My copy of D.H. Lawrence’s ‘Women in Love’ is missing the cover due to the beating it took late one night in 1980. Senior year at Vanderbilt, trying to write a paper at 2 a.m., that was (duh) at 8 a.m. One of my roommates was in the same boat. In a moment of punchy, stress-relieving melodrama, I had to laugh at her as I got up and began to lean my book against the corner of a brick wall. I have kept this book, not because I intend to read it again someday, but because it is a precious keepsake of a dear friend and precious time.”
Rebecca Loader, Minneapolis: “Mom gave my great-aunt Bertha a copy of Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ for Christmas 1933. Everyone read this book. The red cover became tattered and the pages became brittle. Many were dog-eared because they were used for marking readers places. The spine has come loose and some photos have come loose from the binding.
“Mom got the book when Bertha died, and I first read it when I was 12. Somewhere along the way, pages 170-171 got several mysterious marks: Stung Bertha in her finger while she was sewing and left some blood drops behind “Did Bertha spill any coffee? The stains only added to the mystery of the book.”
Molly Koivumaki, Chaska: “The childhood book I can’t part with is ‘The Night Before Christmas’, which I received for Christmas in 1964 when I was five years old.
“On the inside cover of the book, my mother wrote my name, Molly Anne Baird, and the names of my and my siblings on the illustrations of four mice and three presents.
“1964 was a difficult year for our family. Mother was in the hospital almost all summer. At one point, the doctor told Dad to take the kids to the hospital so she could say goodbye – but she absolutely refused to say goodbye.” lived another 50 years. She died in 2014. It’s such a wonderful gift to see her beautiful handwriting, really a family treasure.”
Paula Baudhuin, Minneapolis: “My sister, who died in 2004 at age 54, and I have shared books with each other for decades. Those books are full of underscores, comments, and questions. If I pick up those books now, it’s It’s almost like I have my sister back.”
Richard Terrill, New Hope: “My copy of ‘Walden’ with all my notes in it is now a bundle of mostly single pages. I bought a new copy thinking I would transfer the notes from the old one. But I never did. next to them both on the shelf, I see the rubber band holding ‘A Sand County Almanac’ together is broken.”
Dinesh Shenoy, Minneapolis: “I’ve had my copy of ‘Fahrenheit 451’ probably for 30 years. Every time I reread it, I have to tape some pages or the binding, but I’ll never buy a newer copy. My childhood copy remembers me What a huge mental shock it made to me as a teenager and that it will have a major lifelong impact on me.”
Ivy Wright, Duluth: “My copy of ‘101 Famous Poems’ is copyrighted from 1916. It belonged to my grandmother, who would have been 25 that year. I save it for the fact that she owned it, read it to pieces , and she was the most important person in my childhood.”
Janet Fee, Apple Valley: “At age 13 in 1974 I got my first summer job. With my first salary I bought my first book. I had always been a reader, but until then all my books were in the library. The book is Kathleen Woodiwiss’ The Wolf and the Dove. As an adult I had over 4,000 books at one point, but I will never give up on this one.”
Thomas R. Smith, River Falls, Wis.: “My most precious tattered book is a Webster’s Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, which was awarded as an award in my senior year of high school. But that’s not why I As I prepared to leave the house to go to college, the first in my working-class family to do so, my father, in affection and no doubt in some sadness, printed my name and hometown on the cover of his checkered hand to identify it as mine. the process that father wrote his memory into this book.”
Laurie Hertzel is senior editor for books at the Star Tribune. @StribBooks.
