Characters
At some point during the first week of being back in Knoxville, I made my way over to the North Knoxville branch library. I had not been inside the walls of the old library in over eight years. I guess I havenât really been anywhere in Knoxville in over eight years. It is one thing to move to a new place where there isn't anything to match it up against, but itâs another thing to return to a place that you called home for over 20 years. It is the place where you were born and raised. I thought to myself three Christmases ago, while standing outside in the front yard of the home that I had spent my childhood days, that it was the last time that I would sleep under that roof. I think itâs natural to hate being wrong about things, but in this instance, I am glad that I was wrong about it: being the final night that I would lay my head down inside the walls of the old brown house on the hill. Being back inside of those walls has made my mind wander to things that I had long forgotten about. I suppose that we forget things over the years in order to make room for the new things. Just the other day I was at the top of the stairs, about to walk down to the basement to hop in the truck to go and grab some provisions, and could hear my brother say, âI canât find my coat.â Obviously my brother, Kelly, wasnât there, and his voice has deepened to a lower tone over the years - but it seemed so real. We would always hang our coats by the stairs in order to keep up with them, but needless to say: they didnât always end up there. They would get carried back to a bedroom or left inside the car. I could not help but answer out loud to let Kelly know that his coat wasnât here anymore.
Wikipedia describes âThe Golden Hourâ as the period shortly after sunrise or before sunset during which daylight is redder and softer than when the sun is higher in the sky. I have always associated âgolden hourâ more with the color gold and fond memories. It seems that, over 29 years of life, I find myself inside the North Knoxville Library just as the Golden Hour is approaching outside. The windows in the library sit just above the top of each book shelf that surround the indoor perimeter of the building. The final moments of sunlight creep through the windows to slumber inside the walls of the library, as if returning to its nighttime residence. I wouldn't blame the sunlight for wanting to stay here; it has always been a safe and inviting place.
When I was a kid, especially in the summer, I would load up on books about sharks and R. L. Stine's Goosebumps series. I would come out of the library carrying my weight in books. While we could not always convince Mom to take us to Blockbuster (the now-defunct video rental store), we could usually convince her on a trip to the library. I have not always been disciplined about reading, but I think that it is one of the most important things that you can spend your time doing. It is a really big deal that is often forgotten due to our âscreen timeâ lives. I read to go places. Iâve traveled all over throughout the years to places that I have never been and might never see. I love characters. I think about the characters that I have interacted with in books over the years most days, if they left a lasting impression. Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch of the Appaloosa series by Robert B. Parker might as well be living in New Mexico currently. Anytime that I am out in Wyoming on The High Plains, Iâm keeping an eye out for the high sheriff of Absaroka County, Walt Longmire. I figure that I owe the sheriff several Rainiers.
Iâd ventured into the local branch to see if I could still get a library card. I was greeted by a familiar face at the desk: Tammy, a librarian, who's been at the branch for as far back as I can recall. She was kind and warm, just like I had remembered her to be. I assume that my question-asking tally exceeded its limit at some point over the years with her. I have requested some ancient western books and films over the years, but Tammy has never failed to come through for me on finding the material. What a big deal a librarian is: facilitators of great adventure and knowledge, Â and possibly the most patient people walking the Earth. Tammy had a few questions for me and I explained to her that I'd moved back to Knoxville and wanted to activate a card again. She confirmed that my card was still active after all of these years. The way that we found record of it was the old address that was associated with it, the same address that I call home âagainâ now. I could not help but think on all of the books and films that would be on the history of that card. Various sharks, monsters, secret agents, and cowboys would make up most of it. I donât think that Tammy recognized me, but I sure recognized her because she was important to me growing up, a character. She asked if I was looking for anything specifically, and I let her know that I was just going to browse the shelves and see if anything caught my eye.
After searching through the fiction section, I naturally landed on a western. I took the hardback book with several miles on it up to the front to check out, and another character from my past was there: Michael, the other librarian at the branch, had started while I was in high school. He was just getting settled into the job when I left for Middle Tennessee. I recall Michael making several classic film suggestions that were wonderful when I had slipped into a Golden Era film phase. After Michael had checked the book out and handed me the due back receipt he said, âIt has been awhile since you have been in.â I was taken aback in the best way; he remembered me. Michael had no way of knowing how out of place I had felt that last week with the move and all. He didnât know that it had been a bit of an emotional drive back through the old neighborhood on my way to the library. He didnât know how nice it felt to be recognized inside of a place that you've loved so much over the years.
Michael and I spoke on the passing of time and how long it had been. We briefly talked about things that had happened in life, a quick version of the last eight years. Tammy came up after Michael had made the connection of them knowing me and reintroduced herself. It was like running into two old friends from the past. Iâve seen other people over the last two weeks that Iâve not seen for sometime here in Knoxville: characters. I think we never know what impact, if any, that we have on those around us. Iâm thankful for those who have come in and out of my life. They are all characters, and it is big story.










