Nancy Whiting made it classy to love books

I just learned that Nancy Whiting, former librarian of my hometown library, passed away two nights ago. She was already a senior citizen thirty-five years ago, when she was introducing us (the 25 or so students of West Tisbury Elementary School) to the wonders of reading. The library then was a small but elegant old two-room (one room per floor) building next door to the school (which was all of three rooms). Nancy was the grown-ups’ librarian downstairs; the children’s section was upstairs, and my friends and I passed countless hours in its sunny window-seats, devouring books. Nancy presided over a world that made young people want to spend time around books.
I remember the pride of checking out a grown-up book downstairs with Nancy the first time. I don’t remember the book itself, but I do remember being pleased that Nancy would see I was graduating to a wider world of reading.
I still spend a lot of time in libraries, and the libraries themselves are great – the British Library, Widener Library at Harvard, the New York Public Library – but there is nothing like a home-town librarian to foster the love of reading and learning.
Just a few weeks ago, the Vineyard community also lost a remarkably gifted high school English teacher, John Morelli, who was practically a surrogate father to me in high school. He, too, fostered a love of reading – and writing. The passing of these two beacons from my youth not only saddens me (and makes me feel old!), but pricks me with a sense of responsibility to carry on the good work, in my own way.