The significance of an object varies greatly from person to person. To some, a telescope is merely a fascinating toy; to others, it is a portal to worlds among the stars. An air fryer might be just another kitchen appliance, but for some, it represents the beginning of culinary confidence and a path toward a healthier lifestyle. Our “Library of Things” contains many such items—and while they may be just “things” on a shelf, they can mean the world to the people who borrow them. I know this because I am one of those people.
I was six years old when I was separated from my father. He was a talented musician (hence my name, Melodie.) He played incredible Blues and Rock & Roll guitar, was a gifted singer, and performed in many bands, the most memorable of which was named Blue Rock. I was finally able to reconnect with him in 2017. By then, he was much older and unfamiliar with computers or social media. He lived in Washington, and while we spoke on the phone regularly, his financial situation made visiting impossible. Sadly, he passed away before we had the chance to meet in person. I had deeply looked forward to hearing him play and sing, and I wanted my three children to experience his music as well. I was heartbroken that the opportunity seemed lost forever.
Last year, I connected with one of his former bandmates and asked if he had any recordings. He managed to find an old demo cassette tape and sent it to me. Like most people today, I no longer owned a device capable of playing a cassette. I searched online for a player that could also preserve the audio digitally, but I realized I would be purchasing an item I might only use once before it began collecting dust in a drawer. Then I remembered that JCLS offers a “Library of Things.” I checked our catalog and, sure enough, found a Cassette-to-MP3 recorder. I placed a hold on it immediately.
When it arrived, I took it home, connected it to my laptop, and hit play. There it was: my father’s voice and his beautiful guitar playing. It had been 34 years since I last heard him. To say I shed a tear would be an understatement; I was able to hear and preserve thirty minutes of my father’s legacy. My children finally got to hear him play, and they were amazed by how “cool” their grandpa was.
Items like these are checked out by our patrons every day, and we often don’t realize what they truly represent to the borrower. I once borrowed a yarn winder for a single week; it allowed me to organize my entire collection, saving both physical space and my sanity. When my daughter wanted a Polaroid camera, I borrowed one from the library first to see if she would actually use it. It turned out she didn’t, which saved me $100. I also used the library’s loom to discover that I lacked the necessary patience for weaving, and I utilized our Film and Slide Scanner to digitize old family photos from negatives. This not only saved me the cost of a professional service but allowed me to instantly connect with the images of my ancestors.
Our library offers an incredible variety of items, carefully curated by our Collection Development team. I encourage patrons daily to explore this collection. Whether you want to “try before you buy” or simply need a tool for a one-time project, borrowing helps save money and reduces environmental waste.
To some, it may just be a Cassette-to-MP3 player, but to me, it brought back my father.