Given the more-or-less constant barrage of sad news about bookstores closing their doors, it’s easy to imagine a sort of anti-intellectual Grinch gleefully rubbing his hands together in anticipation of a bookless Christmas this year. (“I must stop children from reading!” he exclaims, smashing a Kindle and dumping stack after forlorn stack of paperbacks into his sack.)
But, as the season’s first snow flurries fell in New York yesterday morning, we awoke to news of a Christmas miracle in a faraway land. Could it be? Charlie McClurg, a third-grader in Dalton, Georgia, wished for a bookstore. But instead of sending his request to Santa Claus, he launched a letter-writing campaign begging Books-A-Million to open a branch in his hometown. On Friday, the Dalton Daily Citizen reports, Clyde B. Anderson, the Books-A-Million chairman and C.E.O, came to Westwood Elementary School to deliver the good news: a new bookstore will indeed open at the nearby Walnut Square Mall, perhaps even in time for Christmas.
It seems that Charlie had been commuting to two other Books-A-Million branches—one in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and the other near his grandparents’ house in Florence, Alabama—when he decided that enough was enough. He got the idea to write to the company, told his teacher about it, and soon several neighboring schools were involved. “Y’all really wore me down,” Anderson said to the students when he arrived on Friday, carrying all five hundred letters under his arm.
In addition to that brilliantly placed “y’all,” there are several things that I like about this story. First, this little Charlie reminds me of—well, myself. My second grade teacher had a book listing addresses for the customer service departments for hundreds of companies and government agencies, and she encouraged us to practice our letter-writing skills by sending as many accolades, questions, or complaints as we liked. After my first letter, I was hooked. (Once, after I wrote to a pencil company to say that their erasers were no good, they sent me a new-and-improved batch along with a letter thanking me for pointing out the flaw.) Second, I love that Charlie’s teacher’s name is Debbie Reynolds. I can’t help picturing her as the actress, circa 1955; in my mind’s eye, the whole scene has the shimmering veneer of a heartwarming movie-musical.
Finally, and most sappily, I’m pleased to hear that Charlie and friends still like to visit bookstores, and that they’ve now learned something about the power of the written word. Those letters got someone’s attention. They made a bookstore appear out of thin air. It’s a bit of magic that I suspect the children will remember for years to come. Maybe some of them will go on to become writers. At the very least, let’s hope that they all keep reading. As we grumble and wring our hands over the future of book publishing, we must remember to celebrate the small victories.
Charlie, for his part, is thrilled. (“It makes me feel super...it’s amazing...I’m so excited!”) Debbie Reynolds plans to take her class on a field trip to the new store. (I expect tap-dancing.)
Better luck next year, Mr. Grinch.
from: New Yorker
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