For the Love of Books
I love to read. I always have. I love to read so much that I actually remember learning how to read. Mrs. Jan Cure Clayton was my first-grade teacher, and she was also my Daddy’s first cousin. (In Atlanta, Texas, it is a real possibility that you are going to be related to one of your teachers along the way.) Anyway, I can remember the other first graders in my reading group and how Mrs. Jan would stand at the board teaching us phonics. It opened a whole new world for me. I was the kid that silently celebrated when the teacher told the class that if you were finished with your work, you could take out a book and read. You could hear groans from most of the students, but I was just giddy inside.
Fast forward a little to my fourth-grade year. My teacher was heavy on reading, and she took us to the library a lot. I read every Nancy Drew book I could find in that library. I was almost depressed when I finished the series. I mean, what was I going to do now that The Clue of the Leaning Chimney and the mystery of The Hidden Staircase had been solved? I approached the school librarian, Mrs. Barbara Riddle, and told her of my separation anxiety from Nancy. Sensing that I needed to expand my reading horizons, and possibly schedule a counseling appointment, Mrs. Riddle helped me find my next obsession. It was a book about seeing-eye dogs. My 18-year-old daughter has since told me that the correct term is “guide dog,” but it was the 80s. Back then we called them seeing-eye dogs. Now, back to the story… I could not get enough of books about dogs that assist the blind in their everyday lives. It absolutely amazed me. I read the few books available in the library and then I approached Mrs. Riddle again. I’m sure she was annoyed with this bookworm of a kid wanting to read more books about guide dogs, but she never showed it. In fact, just to encourage my love for reading, she ordered more books on the subject just for me, and I was over the moon.
My fifth-grade year, I was sent to the principal’s office, along with five other boys, for encouraging a fight on the playground. To this day, I don’t know why I did that. Anyway, Mrs. Riddle was in the office, filling in for the secretary that day. As the six of us were lined up waiting to enter Mr. Burleson’s office one by one, I remember Mrs. Riddle looking over her reading glasses at us. I was absolutely mortified that she saw me awaiting punishment for my crime. When her gaze landed on me, she sternly said, “You must not have enough books to read, because if you did, you wouldn’t be in trouble.” I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
In all these years, I have never forgotten Mrs. Riddle and the time she went above and beyond for a weird little fourth grader who just wanted to read. I have occasionally seen her around town over the years and we sometimes talk via social media, but I wanted to go visit her and really talk to her, and I’m so glad I did. Of course, we talked books and reading, but listening to my elementary school librarian share personal memories and wisdom from her heart is something I will never forget. Oh, and she served me a piece of homemade pound cake and a Dr Pepper while we talked. What is there not to love about this lady?
Barbara Riddle was hired on at Atlanta Elementary as a library aide in 1984. She has fond memories of the job and the students. The library suited her well because she has always loved books. She says she was read to as a child, and she carried on that tradition with her own two children and grandchildren. Mrs. Riddle said that she loved her time in the library and she tried to constantly encourage the elementary students to read all kinds of books. “You can be wherever the book is, no matter what is going on around you,” she said. Growing up in a community called Joy, just outside of Gladewater, Texas, she remembers reading The Bopsy Twinsseries along with all the Nancy Drew Mysteries. As she talked to me, I noticed that the table beside her recliner was filled with books, as were her bookshelves. She likes all kinds of books, but these days, her favorite books are about the Amish and their way of life.
Mrs. Riddle retired from the school in 1999. She said that she would not trade her time at the elementary school, but her mother fell ill around that time and her husband had already retired. She decided she needed to be home. In 2010, her husband, Tuffy, was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. He battled his cancer on and off for ten years and, of course, Mrs. Riddle was there for every chemo and radiation treatment he ever had. In that same ten-year period, my library friend was diagnosed with and survived breast cancer. Then in 2020, Tuffy Riddle, her husband of 57 years, passed away. Mrs. Barbara misses her love every day and has had to adjust to living alone. “We were a two-horse team,” she says. Through her unwavering belief in God’s promises, she keeps going because she knows she will see the other half of her team again one day.
As a kid, you think that your principal, teachers, and librarians don’t have real lives outside the school walls. Or, at least, that’s what I thought. But Barbara Riddle has had quite the life. She is not famous. She is not wealthy. But she is a mom who raised a son and a daughter, and she is still crazy about them both. She was a faithful wife who stood by her husband in sickness and in health. She is a warrior that stared breast cancer in the face and survived. Even though she doesn’t consider herself the picture of strength, the lady who sat before me today eating her own piece of pound cake and sharing her heart displays all the qualities of a strong woman. She is just too humble to realize it.
Before I left Mrs. Riddle’s house, I told her I was both thankful for her influence in my life and sorry for being such a weird little kid who wore her out over “seeing-eye dog” books. She laughed that familiar laugh that I’ve never forgotten after all these years and made me promise to come back to visit. I asked her what her plans were for the afternoon. “I think I’ll take a nap and read a book.” Perfect.
