Only in WellerWorld

On Monday mornings I work the Main Floor Information Desk. One of the opening info desk tasks is to pull internet orders that came in the previous night. I was dutifully retrieving book after book until I hit an order for The One That Cannot Be Found. The title of The One That Cannot Be Found (TOTCBF) changes from time to time. But it seems that every other week or so, I simply cannot find a book on our shelves no matter hard I try. If you've been in our store, you know there's a lot of footage to search for a missing book. If you haven't, this is a glimpse of the Main Floor.

In dogged pursuit of TOTCBF, I began to pull every spiral bound book from a row of cases, since the one I was looking for had a spiral binding. I encountered some titles on Utah law, Financing Government in Utah, and a copy of Minuteman for a Day. All interesting in their own way, but not TOTCBF. The next spiral I pulled off the shelf made me gasp. No, it wasn't TOTCBF. It was a 1973 - 1974 year book from Webster Elementary School. That school, located here in Salt Lake City was torn down sometime in the 1990's and replaced by Bennion Elementary. Many years before it was torn down, I went there. In fact, I attended fourth grade at Webster from 1973 - 1974.

All of a sudden, I felt the magic customers sometimes discover in our store. They come to the Info Desks, faces glowing and show us treasures they've found in our stacks. "I had this book when I was a little boy and I've never seen a copy since!" "My mother read me stories from this book!" "I borrowed this book from a library in 1965 and lost it." "My boyfriend read passages to me from this book." You get the idea. We get the stories and it's always a treat to share those moments.

Well, I was gaga the same way. I tore through the pages looking for my class. When I found the photos for Mrs. Folias's room, I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see that my picture wasn't in there. I had missed picture day. But I saw a picture of my very first boyfriend, Steve O'Reilly who became a Massacre Guy when he grew up, then a Descendent, and changed his name to Stefan or something. There was a photo of my second boyfriend, or his twin, I can't remember which one I "went with" in fourth grade. They were all there: my best friend Catherine J., the boy who threw up on the first day of 7th grade and was forever known as "the boy who threw up," the girl who was picked on, the tough boy that stomped on my foot and made me cry, and my teacher, the indominatable Mrs. Folias who now helps teach my daughter at a different school. I made my way through the book store, pointing pictures out to my coworkers, sharing stories and laughing at the clothes people wore then. It was great. I'm sure my face was glowing.

Of course I bought the book. And that TOTCBF? I admitted failure and passed the record on to the A-team, those who search harder, better and faster for missing items. I hate doing that. But they usually find the books. And I felt good anyway because I'd found a little piece of my past right here on the shelves of my very own bookstore.