Don’t let your nostalgia slow you down
It looks like the Merrill Library, after more than 70 years of service, is finally being torn down.
It also looks like Cache Valley’s television programming could use a serious shot in the arm, because it’s impossible to walk past the Merrill Library without bumping into a crowd of people who’ve gathered to watch the demolition.
And while I’ve gotten over my initial disappointment in the slow, structured flattening of the library as opposed to, say, another method involving dynamite or fireworks or something, I’d still choose a day with Judge Joe Brown and Jerry Springer over an afternoon of library watching.
Let me be the first to admit that the library is good for some serious gawking.
I love to stare slack-jawed at heavy machinery as much as the next guy, but who in their right mind uses a demolition as an excuse to have a picnic? Case in point: When going south on I-15, we all slow down to somewhere in between 4 and 7 miles per hour to survey an accident. We do not stop our cars and get out for a better view. It’s macabre. It’s dangerous.
The library is no different. The Merrill may not have been built on an ancient burial ground, but I’ve got to admit that asbestos frightens me just as much as angry spirits.
The campus’ obsession with the demolition makes the wonder if there wasn’t something special about the library.
Being an English major, I have an affinity for books-their look, their smell and the warm yellow of old pages all appeal to me.
But when I think of the Merrill Library, I think of four flights of stairs. And while the almost Olympic sense of accomplishment one felt at the top of those stairs was magnificent, it was always overshadowed by the fear that I’d inhaled enough dust to give me the black lung.
In the end it was the Sci-Tech, and not the Merrill Library, where we all met our significant others.
Leave it to those new fluorescent lights to bring out the best in someone’s complexion.
And I’ve got to admit that, nostalgic as the Merrill Library was, I like the Merrill-Cazier.
It’s clean, well-lit, and has the best computer lab on campus. The BARN system scares me a little, but that is mostly due to a reoccurring nightmare in which it comes to my bed to retrieve me.
Will I miss the Merrill Library? I’m sure I will, in the same way that I miss FDR’s New Deal.
By the time I came around, the library was past its prime. That was five years ago – no jokes about my six-year bachelor’s degree, please – and our goodbye is long overdue. I will nod and smile as I walk past, I will undoubtedly walk into someone while gawking at its destruction and I may even, after another BARN dream, wish momentarily that the Merrill was back, but in my saner moments I can admit that its time had come.
What I’m trying to say, I suppose, is that it’s alright to take with you your memories of the Merrill Library. The place has become an institution here on campus akin to Old Main, and it’s only right to remember it as such. But, for heaven’s sake, keep walking, take your memories with you and leave the asbestos behind.
Zach Pendleton is a junior majoring in English. Send any comments or questions to zpendleton@cc.usu.edu