Living where we did on Greenlawn was a perfect location for a kid.  We had a dairy out the back door, a neighborhood grocery down the street and a major department store a mere eight blocks away.  Everything we needed was within walking distance.  Anyplace else we wanted to visit was as close as a hop on the city bus and a transfer from downtown.

One of my favorite places in Peoria, however, was a magical kingdom known as the Lincoln Branch Library.  A part of the Peoria Public Library, it was a beautiful Carnegie library building in the center of a city block surrounded by ancient trees.

The history of the library was of local legends.  Originally a cemetery, the ground was cleared to make way for the library.  It was said that four bodies were left behind, a mother, her two children and a soldier.  Whether this was because of the dreadful diseases they were said to have died from, or merely to increase the mystery I can't say for sure, but the ghost stories abounded, especially when I was young, impressionable and easily scared.

The trek to the library was sometimes as much an adventure as the stories that resided on the library shelves.  The path we chose could have been wrought with sinister people, snarling dogs, or the worst yet,ouchie rocks under bare feet.

There were three ways to get to the library.  There was the safe, recommended route which entailed sticking to sidewalks and crossing at corners.  Then there was the 'dangerous', but direct way of sneaking through strangers' yards, walking through vacant lots and crossing the streets kitty-corner.  If we made it to the big silver rock, we were safe!  Of course the third way was the longest and completely out of our way, but it passed in front of several 'cute-guy' houses and the extra time was worth it.  This only happened with my younger sister Jeannie, though, not my older sister who was much more interested in actually getting to the library then in flirting with pre-teen boys.

The park like setting contained monkey bars and crossbars and we used to walk down from St. Boniface to spend recess outside the library.  It was on those monkey bars on my first day of grade school that I learned from a rather distraught nun that hanging upside down in a dress was not acceptable!  So much for my athletic career.

The Carnegie buildings were great stories unto themselves.  Andrew Carnegie, a great library promoter and philanthropist donated millions of dollars to cities willing to match funds and build libraries.  Sometimes it was said that the focus of the libraries changed from books to other things and it was rumored that when someone proposed adding a swimming pool inside a library that Carnegie decided to establish some guidelines.

It was these rules and guidelines that make it possible to identify Carnegie Libraries even now.  The structures usually have high ceilings, wooden pillars and polished woodwork.  He requested certain sayings to be placed over the doors and suggested that each library display a picture of himself.  Not all libraries are the same, but it is the feeling upon entering the building that tells the true tale.

Walking up the worn cement steps to the heavy metal doors I was always in awe of the majestic building, home to all of the knowledge and stories of the world.  A few more steps up and there were two heavy doors of wood and beveled glass that swung open with a silent 'woosh' even under the power of a young child.

Tall polished wooden pillars on either side of the doors framed the entry of the magical place.  It was a 'library quiet' kind of place, but smells are what linger in my mind.  There is nothing like the smell of new books, intoxicating to both new and old readers alike.

The floors were covered in soft worn linoleum, brown like the shelves that lined the walls.  It was silent walking except for the one place that creaked when a child tried to sneak over to the more exciting young adult side.  Depending on who ruled the desk I would either be reprimanded with a silent glare or allowed to continue my quest.  There were two Library Ladies (as we called them then).  One followed the rules to the letter and one turned a blind eye to those searching for that elusive gem that could only be found in the greener pastures of the other side.

I found the Narnia books on that other side and the Girl Scout handbooks.  Why they were there I never questioned, but because of their placement they were forbidden treasures.

With no Girl Scout troops in my school I was unable to join.  While others were reading and dreaming of ponies and princesses, I was pretending to be a Girl Scout using the secret signs and practicing my camp craft in the back yard.

Some of my first library memories were of running to the back of the room to the display of new children's books searching and hoping for a new Dr. Seuss book.  Oh, heavenly day when one appeared on that display shelf!  I would pick up the book and hold it tight, afraid that someone might snatch it up before me.  Next I would feel the smooth wrap and watch the way the old hanging lights danced across the shiny cover.

My sister, Jean (a former bookstore owner) says that you can tell a true book lover, or in her instance, see a sale, when a person holds a book a certain way and then glide their fingers over the raised print and pictures.  They will then pull it slowly and unobtrusively to their nose and sniff the pages.  There is no greater aphrodisiac than the smell of a new book.  Not yet seasoned by anxious little hands, nor scented with the essence of PBJ the new books are like a special treat.  If they ever found a way to bottle that aroma someone could make a fortune!

In my varied library experience I was privileged and proud to become a 'Library Lady' in that very same library heaven.  And if one wants to speak of fortunes, those of us who find our true calling in libraries, surrounded by the books that reward our lives,have already found our true fortunes.