Andrew Carnegie: A Legacy of Libraries

I love libraries. After each move during my husband’s Air Force career, one of the first outings with our children was a trip to the local library. It was an attempt to smooth the transition of our move and make the unfamiliar seem familiar. Looking back I wonder how many of those libraries belong to the Carnegie legacy.

Andrew Carnegie’s story could only happen in America. Born in Dunfermline, Scotland, in 1835 to a handloom weaver, Andrew’s family moved to America in 1848 after the industrial revolution destroyed the weaver’s craft. They settled in Allegheny City, now part of Pittsburgh. With no more than a few years’ schooling, he found employment as a bobbin boy at a cotton factory, earning $1.20 a week.

Ambitious and hard-working, Andrew went from the cotton factory to the Pennsylvania Railroad and eventually worked as division superintendent. Gifted with foresight, he invested in various ventures including iron and oil companies and entered the steel business where he was a dominant force for two decades. In 1901 he sold Carnegie Steel to J Pierpont Morgan for $480 million, an amazing “rags to riches” story. Here’s where it gets even more interesting.

Carnegie is quoted as saying, “the man who dies rich, dies disgraced.” After the sale of his company, he devoted himself to philanthropy, eventually giving away more than $350 million or $4.4 billion in 2010 dollars. He donated more than 7,600 organs to churches worldwide and built Carnegie Hall. He endowed organizations dedicated to research in science and education but is perhaps best known for funding 2,500 public libraries around the globe.

The design of these libraries range from grand and upscale like this one in Washington DC . . .

. . . to more modest like the one in my hometown, Ames, Iowa, shown here in 1904. During my growing up years, the library was larger after a substantial addition, and the entrance was moved to a different street, but the bones of the original building remained the same.

Over the years some of the Carnegie libraries have closed or been repurposed. It warms my heart when beautiful old buildings are spared the bulldozer and find new life.

Morris County Historical Society occupies the Council Grove, KS, Carnegie library. The space is like a museum filled top to bottom with books and artifacts like the Indian image above I couldn’t resist photographing.

The town of Greenfield, IN, twenty-five miles east of Indianapolis, has turned their library into one of the best restaurant’s I’ve had the pleasure to eat in.

Aptly named Carnegies Restaurant, the chef walks out the back door to pick herbs from his garden and bakes his bread in an outdoor stone oven. They mean it when they say “locally sourced herbs and vegetables.”

This was our 50th anniversary dinner at Carnegies. I remember fresh baked bread, tomato-mozzarella salad with fresh basil and beef medallions in a dreamy sauce. Pardon me while I drool just a bit. If you’re serious about eating here, check it out online.

Carnegie had a life-long pursuit of knowledge. He took advantage of a small library that a local benefactor made available to working boys when he was a youngster and never forgot that. His gift of libraries was a way to help people help themselves. In many towns across America that library became the heart of the community where dreams began, ideas were exchanged and knowledge was dispensed. We can be grateful for that.

In closing, look what has popped up in our yard–a sure sign of spring. By next month I should have a time frame for the debut of my next book. Yippee!

Until next time . . .