Monday, September 21, 2026

A $90 Million Article: Gilbert M. Gaul's Libraries in Distress

This week, I published an article in The Conversation, a nonprofit online news source that is considered to be the Associated Press for material written by university-based scholars. Although I knew The Conversation had a wide reach, it was amazing to learn that my work on Pennsylvania library history had been read by nearly 3,000 people within just a few days, and that it was shared by news sites from Schenectady, New York, to Charlotteville, Virginia, to Grand Junction, Colorado. I doubt that anything else I've ever written has been seen by so many individuals beyond my home state.

This got me thinking about news articles that have been impactful in Pennsylvania library history. It's not something I can speak about definitively, because my searches in newspaper databases haven't been comprehensive. But, if I were to measure importance by the number of times I've encountered clippings in library archives, or the number of mentions I've encountered in library board minutes and reports, or how an article was utilized to achieve tangible, positive results, the hands-down winner is a 4-part series collectively titled Libraries in Distress written by Philadelphia Inquirer reporter Gilbert M. Gaul and published June 1-4, 1997. 

It doesn't seem that libraries were Gaul's usual beat, but no one could have asked for a better writer to describe the deplorable conditions Pennsylvania libraries were facing at the time. Although Gaul grew up and attended college in New Jersey, his first reporting jobs were for the Lehighton Times-News and the Pottsville Republican. He rapidly proved himself to be a courageous and talented journalist. In 1979, he and his colleague Elliott G. Jaspin won a Pulitzer Prize for Local Investigative Specialized Reporting for a series they wrote about the demise of Blue Coal Company (see June 12, June 13, June 14, June 15, and June 16, 1978 editions of the Pottsville Republican). In 1983, Gaul moved to the Philadelphia Inquirer. There, he won a second Pulitzer for Service, for "The Blood Brokers," a series about the lack of regulation of the American blood industry (see September 24, September 25, September 26, and September 27, 1989 editions). He was also a finalist for an additional Pulitzer in 1994, and would go on to be a finalist again in 2001. 

According to the back page of a reprint of Libraries in Distress that I found in the PaLA Archives, Gaul had been "busy poring through data and reports on education and literacy in America" when he noticed that "public libraries in Pennsylvania ranked among the lowest in the country with regard to funding, book inventories, and reader services." This inspired him to spend 5 months visiting institutions in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, and Ohio. To illustrate the stories, he worked with Inquirer photographer Peter Tobia who traveled more than 1,200 miles to capture poignant and vivid images. 

Gilbert M. Gaul (left) and Peter Tobia (right), the author and photographer
who produced Libraries in Distress. Image from an undated reprint of the series,
 available in the Pennsylvania Library Association Archives at the State Library of Pennsylvania.

Premiering on page 1 of the June 1, 1997 edition of the Inquirer, the series began with an unassailable and forceful argument: "Pennsylvania's libraries are among the poorest and most meagerly equipped in the nation. That has serious consequences." For the first article, "A Shortage of Support and Volumes of Problems," Gaul revisited Pottsville, a town that he'd become familiar with as a young reporter, and he described the sorry conditions he encountered at the Pottsville Free Public Library. Built in the 1920s, PFPL housed the children's room in its basement, as many early libraries did. But it seemed that conditions had scarcely improved over the years. A municipal sewage pipe ran through the department, and the children's toilet, which "leak[ed] badly," was located in a wooden stall without a lock. Gaul went on to describe the disparity of library conditions in Philadelphia's suburbs, where institutions that were "shining jewels" were always countered by others that were literally crumbling apart.

The beginning of Libraries in Distress. Image from an undated reprint of the series
 available in the Pennsylvania Library Association Archives.
Image courtesy of the State Library of Pennsylvania.

The guilty party, it seemed, was state law: for one thing, Pennsylvania did not require counties or municipalities to fund public libraries. Furthermore, local governments only had to invest $2.00 per capita in libraries to qualify for state aid. It was a low standard that had been prescribed in 1961 and hadn't changed since. As a result, as of the mid/late 1990s Pennsylvania ranked 49th of 50 states in  local funding. What's more, some libraries had serious free-rider problems: due to state aid requirements, they had to serve all constituents from all the boroughs and townships within their services areas, even if those communities didn't contribute to the libraries' budget. This difficult situation had reached a crossroads, even a crisis, because of declining literacy rates in the state, as well as the high cost of computer technology and other modernization. Pennsylvania was already lagging behind in terms of education -- in fact, one of Gaul's interviewees referred to it as the "Mississippi of the North." But the situation was only going to get worse in the emerging digital age. Libraries in well-funded states like New Jersey and Ohio were able to provide computer terminals, reference databases, and Internet access, while many in Pennsylvania could not. 

On June 2nd, Gaul described excellent library conditions in Ohio, and how western Pennsylvania families often border-hopped to take advantage of resources elsewhere. He again hammered home the shortcomings of state law, but also introduced the stubbornness of municipalities that chose to retain small, poorly-funded institutions for the sake of being able to run them independently, rather than consolidating with neighboring libraries or joining county systems to achieve economies of scale. An additional problem Gaul highlighted was the pathetic salaries often paid to Pennsylvania librarians. Noting that the Pennsylvania Library Association (PaLA) recommended $26,000/year (about $54,000 in 2026 dollars) for an early-career, Master's-level librarian, Gaul found that only 14 of the state's 457 libraries paid that much. Some of his sources attributed this to the long social tradition of paying less for women's work, but he noted that Pennsylvania teachers, who were also predominantly female, earned 2-3 times what librarians did. A more likely explanation: teachers were unionized, while most librarians were not. 

The next day (June 3rd), Gaul returned to and delved into the issue of technology, mentioning how the costs and learning curves were straining some libraries to the breaking point. But he primarily focused on the ways that online gaming and chat rooms were diverting libraries and their customers from reading and other forms of literary engagement. Reading this part of the series with 21st-century eyes, I don't think it's aged well and it wasn't as helpful to libraries as it could have been. I was working in both college and public libraries at the time, and while I remember losing some customers once they got online (especially if they had access at home), the Internet also brought throngs of people who had never visited us before. For some, computer availability was the beginning of a long and evolving relationship as the more open-minded customers explored other library offerings. I have also observed the gaming world develop into an environment that can be rich with storytelling, cognitive challenge, and many other positives that we associate with reading books. That being said, my own research in various county and municipal libraries does confirm Gaul's points about the financial and staffing disadvantages Pennsylvania libraries struggled with as they tried to adopt new technologies. 

On June 4th, the final day of the series, Gaul's most substantial coverage focused on the branches of the Free Library of Philadelphia (FLP), particularly showing how the Wadsworth Branch thrived in part because it had dependable income. While some FLP locations received more funding per-capita than others, overall the city stood out "like a sore thumb," according to the system's director (and former State Librarian) Elliot Skelkrot. He noted that this wasn't because FLP's funding was high above the national average, but because Pennsylvania's was so far below it. Although the article may have seemed geared toward city residents, I don't doubt that it resonated with some small-town librarians around the state because it showed what their own institutions could be if more resources were available. Yet, in another piece Gaul described how some library advocates had opposed the Public Library Project -- an effort of a few years earlier to change the state's funding formula. In particular, libraries that had made strides in obtaining corporate and foundation funding, but felt they had little chance of obtaining additional support from local government -- the Martin Library in York was cited as an example -- lobbied their legislators to oppose the project. Thus, no one could guess if library conditions in Pennsylvania would ever improve.

But ... improve they did!

Drawing from all corners of Pennsylvania, Gaul's fact-finding and storytelling presented compelling reasons to try once more to fix the state aid program. His reporting went "viral" in 1990s meanings of the word. The York Record republished the entire series the following week. In Bloomsburg, library director Hal Pratt used Libraries in Distress as a jumping-off point for a public speech and a later editorial. In Hazleton, the editors of the Standard-Speaker called upon local, county, and state officials to act. Also, as I've mentioned, I have found related clippings and conversations in most of the public library archives I've used. 

Perhaps most importantly, the Pennsylvania Library Association reacted swiftly and decisively to Gaul's pathbreaking work. I haven't yet used all the records from the 1990s, but I found a September 1997 PaLA Bulletin editorial by Karl Helicher, the association's president, which indicated that he agreed with Gaul's comments on paltry library funding, as well as how "provincialism" (Helicher's word) was holding Pennsylvania libraries back. He urged PaLA members to focus more attention on "library service rather than libraries, regionalization versus provincialism, how technology can make regional library service more attractive, how we can qualitatively determine what constitutes good library service," how to "break down the barriers of provincialism that inhibit library service," and how all of these elements could "be used to substantiate the need for additional funding." As someone who was educated at West Chester and the University of Pittsburgh, had worked as a librarian in Clearfield County and the Carnegie (Carnegie, PA) Free Library, had been director of the Upper Merion Township Library since the late 1970s, and had chaired PaLA's Public Library Division, its legislative committees, and other working groups, he knew what he was talking about. 

In October 1997, PaLA offered 2 recommendations: an immediate infusion of $15 million to the state aid program, and full funding (more than $6 million) for Access PA, especially to support the resource sharing element of that program. But it acknowledged that "thoughtful review and careful planning" was needed to "explore alternatives." As a flurry of legislation developed in the Pennsylvania House and Senate, PaLA's Legislative Information Committee tracked the bills and reported on strengths and concerns. PaLA also established a Public Library Funding Committee to hammer out recommendations that all types of libraries across the state could support. Led by Jim Hollinger, the group met several times over the Fall and Winter, ultimately coalescing around a Platform for Twenty-First Century Libraries -- a set of recommendations which urged specific changes to the Public Library Code. While urging that libraries remain locally organized and governed, the Platform suggested that the state take on a "larger partnership role" by investing an additional $18 million per year for the next 5 years ($90 million in total). In return, county/local governments would have to invest $5.00 per capita (instead of $2.00) to qualify for state aid. Bound copies of the Platform were printed for wide distribution, and a web version was posted on Delaware County Library System's website. PaLA hired a lobbying firm, Greenlee Associates, and public relations experts at Neiman-May Communications, and it partnered with the General Federation of Women's Clubs/Pennsylvania to help get its message get heard in Harrisburg and around the state. Further, the Office of Commonwealth Libraries, Pennsylvania Citizens for Better Libraries, and PaLA offered various educational programs to equip librarian to join the legislative fight. 

Front cover of PaLA's Platform for Twenty-First Century Libraries, 1998.
Image courtesy of the PaLA Archives, State Library of Pennsylvania.

In the ensuing months, Gaul himself helped to keep libraries in the public conscience. In August 1997, he reported on legislators who were considering various proposals, as well as the efforts of PaLA's task force. In September, he wrote another piece which called out the state's silence on libraries' funding crisis. Again, that December, he provided an update on the PaLA Task Force's activities, as well as a bill (H.B. 1884) proposed by Rep. Thomas L. Stevenson of Allegheny County that would have repealed the Public Library Code, shifted oversight of libraries to a newly-created commission, and supplied funding increases (a mixed bag of goods and not-so-goods). Then, in July 1998, an Inquirer poll conveyed widespread support for libraries. It found that while more than 3/4 of respondents felt their libraries were doing an "excellent" or "good" job, 30% felt library funding should be higher and more than 2/3 wanted the state to require localities to spend a certain amount on libraries. A majority believed the state should pick up a larger share, and more than 80% of respondents wanted a portion of the state's personal income tax revenue to be dedicated toward libraries.

Fortunately, Rep. Stevenson and his office were willing to work with PaLA to revise H.B. 1884 so that problematic elements were revised and the bill incorporated more ideas from the Platform. Though Stevenson's bill was not passed by the end of the legislative year, libraries also had a significant friend in Harrisburg -- Governor Tom Ridge -- who made a 2-year commitment of $32 million in additional funding, along with an implementation plan which mirrored the Platform in several ways. Through PaLA's continued advocacy and Ridge's leadership, Stevenson's revived bill (House Bill 17) and the companion Senate Bill 936, proposed by Senator James J. Rhoades of Schuylkill County, ultimately achieved passage. Approved by Gov. Ridge as Act 57 of 2000, they made transformative changes to the Public Library Code. Thus, 3 years after Gaul had published Libraries in Distress, he was able to write a follow-up piece about how a "quiet revolution" was taking place -- libraries opening more hours and acquiring more books, with significant increases in circulation as the result. Although the historic library budgets that were achieved during the Ridge administration were sharply cut a few years later by Governor Ed Rendell, my research has found various instances where the temporary surge in state money enabled upgrades that libraries may not have had otherwise. Increases in local funding, spurred by the state's new formula, benefitted libraries over the long term, as well.   

Although many hands worked to secure increased funds and necessary changes to the Public Library code, PaLA recognized the vital instigation that Gilbert M. Gaul's reporting provided when they awarded him the association's 1997 Certificate of Merit. The Pennsylvania Newsmedia Association also recognized the impact of his work by granting him 1st place in its 1998 Public Service/Investigative Reporting category. While Gaul didn't win another Pulitzer Prize for his reporting on libraries, it certainly meant a lot to us in the Keystone State!

Gaul receiving PNA's 1998 award for Public Service/Investigative Reporting for Libraries in Distress. With him are PaLA Past-President Kathy Kennedy and Lois M. Albrecht, a longtime SLP employee and library consultant. Published in the August 1998 edition of PaLA's Bulletin.

For more about Gilbert M. Gaul and Libraries in Distress:

  • Campbell, Stephanie, "In the PaLRaP Spotlight: Glenn Miller," Pennsylvania Libraries: Research and Practice, vol. 4, no. 1 (Spring 2016), 3-5. PaLRaP, https://palrap.org/ojs/palrap/article/view/124. 
  • "Candidates for First Vice President/President-Elect," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, July 1995, 1.
  • Gaul, Gilbert M. "$120 Million is Sought for Pa. Libraries," The Inquirer [Philadelphia, PA], December 30, 1997, A1, A8. Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com/image/177980926/. 
  • Gaul, Gilbert M., "Advocates Build Case for Pa. Library Reform," The Inquirer [Philadelphia, PA], August 28, 1997, A1, A10. Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com/image/178063994/. 
  • Gaul, Gilbert M., "In Pa. Libraries, a Quiet Revolution," The Inquirer [Philadelphia, PA], September 22, 2000, A1, A17. Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com/image/179831616/. 
  • Gaul, Gilbert M., Libraries in Distress, The Inquirer [Philadelphia, PA], June 1-4, 1997, A1. etc. 
  • Gaul, Gilbert M., "Method to Fix Pa. Libraries a Mystery," The Inquirer [Philadelphia, PA], September 25, 1997, B1, B4. Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com/image/178061184.
  • Gaul, Gilbert M., "Survey: Most Want Change in Library Funding in Pa.," The Inquirer [Philadelphia, PA], July 20, 1998, A1, A9. Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com/image/179872548.
  • "Gaul, Gilbert Martin," in vol. 16 of Complete Biographical Encyclopedia of Pulitzer Prize Winners, 1917-2000: Journalists, Writers and Composers on Their Way to the Coveted Awards, edited by Heinz-Deitrich Fischer (Munich, Germany: K. G. Saur, 2002). 
  • Helicher, Karl, "Ready, Aim, Fire," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, August 1997, 2, 6.
  • Hollinger, Jim, "Interest in Public Libraries Yields Legislative Proposals," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, November/December 1995, 1, 8-9.
  • Hollinger, Jim, "PaLA Unveils Public Library Funding Platform," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, March 1998, 1.
  • "Libraries in Crisis: Where We Go From Here," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, October 1997, 5.
  • Libraries in Distress [reprinted edition]. Copy available in the Pennsylvania Library Association Archives, Publications Series, State Libraries of Pennsylvania. 
  • "Library's 90th Time to Take State to Task," Standard-Speaker [Hazleton, PA], C4. Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com/image/61219519. 
  • Miller, Glenn R., "Budget Process Moves Ahead; May Passage Appears Likely," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, April 1999, 1, 3.
  • Miller, Glenn R., "Governor Ridge Proposes Quantum Leap Forward for Public Libraries," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, February 1999, 1, 5.
  • Miller, Glenn R., "Hooray! Legislature Passes Library Bill," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, June/July 1999, 5.
  • Miller, Glenn R., "Legislature Approves Ridge Increase for Libraries," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, May 1999, 1, 5.
  • Miller, Glenn R., "New Version of House Bill 1884 Out; Sets Stage for Fall Session and 1999," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, October 1998, 3.
  • Miller, Glenn R., "Platform for Twenty-First Century Libraries Gains Support," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, August 1998, 6.
  • Miller, Glenn R., "State Budget Moves Ahead; Early Approval Predicted," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, March 1999, 1.
  • Miller, Glenn R., "State Budget Races Toward Early Completion; PaLA Begins Push for 'Platform,'" Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, April 1998, 1.
  • Oder, Norman, "Politician of the Year, 2001: Tom Ridge," Library Journal, September 15, 2001, 42-43.
  • "PaLA Congratulates Gilbert Gaul," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, August 1998, 4.
  • Pennsylvania General Assembly, "Act No. 57 of 2000: The Library Code, Amend State Aid to Local Libraries," Unconsolidated Statutes, https://www.palegis.us/statutes/unconsolidated/law-information?sessYr=2000&sessInd=0&actNum=0057.&plPageNum=0404. 
  • "PaLA Hails Governor's Announcement of Record Two-Year Budget Commitment," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, February 1999, 6.
  • Pennsylvania Library Association, The Platform for Twenty-First Century Libraries: Pennsylvania's Future Demands Better Libraries / Pennsylvania Libraries in Distress: The Pennsylvania Library Association's Response, 1998. Copy available in the Pennsylvania Library Association Archives, Publications Series, State Libraries of Pennsylvania.  
  • Posel, Nancy, "Keep Interest High to Support Library Funding Increases," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, January 1999, 3.
  • Posel, Nancy, "Keeping Library Needs High on State Legislative Priorities," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, November/December 1998, 13.
  • Pratt, Hal, "House Proposal May Lead to Improvements in State's Libraries," The Press-Enterprise [Bloomsburg, PA], B17. Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com/image/818933901. 
  • "The State of Libraries," Daily Record [York, PA], June 15, 1997, 1F, 4F. Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com/image/554162023.
  • "Women's Clubs Take Up Library Banner," Pennsylvania Library Association Bulletin, August 1998, 11.

 

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Thursday, September 10, 2026

From Picture Postcards to the Cat's Meow: eBaying Library History

My father passed away in August 2024 and I served as the Executor of his estate. I often felt inadequate for the job, but sometimes, my librarian skills proved handy. For example, inventories are useful for managing and selling personal property, and compiling such lists is second-nature to me. I created a spreadsheet of Dad's vinyl records, cassettes, and CDs, and another one for a few dozen Thomas Kinkade Christmas decorations he owned. After I sold everything, I turned an eye toward my own collections. Over the past year, I cataloged my (546!) iron-on patches, and now I'm working on my library-themed postcards. 

Cataloging my library postcard collection. Photo by the author.

I have been collecting library postcards for more than 25 years. That's my husband's fault. Antiquing is one of his hobbies, and when we were dating, he kindly offered to buy me something alongside the woodworking tools he was purchasing for himself. I didn't want to cost him a lot of money, and I didn't want to fill my apartment with junk, so at first I struggled to find something for myself. Then, one afternoon, while I was browsing a cluttered booth at a flea market near Waynesboro, I found an old postcard showing the Boston Public Library. It connected to my home state and to my profession, and it was priced just a dollar or two. Within a few months, I became one of "those" people who zero-in on paper ephemera vendors, drag chairs to their booths, and sit for an hour or more flipping through albums and boxes of cards. I also started to waste a lot of down-time trawling eBay, looking for library cards that I didn't already possess. A quarter-century later, I've got more than 2,000 cards. Nearly all of them depict U.S. public libraries. I own many from Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, but I have examples from all 50 states. Wanna make me squeal with delight? Find me a card that shows a library's interior, including period decor and obsolete technologies. 

As I've explained in a scholarly article (2008), businesses and governments used postcards for brief communications during the 19th century. However, advances in illustration printing technology, growth of the tourism industry, and favorable changes to postal rules and fees led to a picture postcard fad during the 1900s and 1910s. Because libraries were typically among the largest and most ornate public buildings in their communities, there are many early postcards that showcase them. Although most  feature artistic or edited renderings rather than real photos, they have some uses for historical research. Of interest to architectural scholars, postcards show regional differences in construction materials and styles. For the sociologically-minded, seeing a building's placement, such as within a downtown business district, versus a park-like setting, can indicate the clientele that a library hoped to attract. 

Postcards aren't the only type of librariana that one can spend a lot of money on. As Larry Nix has explained on The Library History Buff website, souvenir china and silver spoons depicting libraries were common in the late 19th/early 20th centuries, for some of the same reasons that postcards were. Norman Stevens, who wrote a librariana collector's guide, further mentioned bookmarks, conference badges, cookbooks, and stamps. The Holy Grail, though, is probably an oak card catalog made by the Library Bureau, a company founded by Melvil Dewey. I've got a 72-drawer, 1910s Globe-Wernicke catalog, precisely because I can't afford an LB. My Globe set me back $1,100 when I bought it -- and the varmints that were living in it -- off a guy's porch in Pottsville. It was in such rough condition that it took my husband and me 6 months to restore it. 

Postcards, china, and other items in my collection were a significant resource when my research focused on the early 20th century. However, they aren't as useful for the period I'm investigating now. Today, most small cities and towns aren't featured on postcards; among those that are, public libraries are rarely included in the imagery. In fact, I rarely find library-themed postcards that date later than World War II. 

So, my question is -- are there any fads from the 1950s through the early 21st century that have swept up Pennsylvania libraries?

These days, there are companies like JanWay and The Library Store that create customized giveaway items specifically for the library market. In addition, there are general vendors like 4imprint that work with all types of organizations. In my travels, I've picked up coffee mugs, T-shirts, pins, tote bags, and other stuff that was likely produced by these companies. But that's library-manufactured buzz. I'm more interested in moments when libraries were celebrated along with other community institutions, as libraries were included among bridges, city halls, natural wonders, and other notable sites on postcards of a century ago.

This week, my curiosity led me to back to eBay, where I searched for "library" among "Collectibles," "Home and Garden," "Jewelry and Watches," and other categories. At first, I didn't find much from the mid-late 20th century, except for a few isolated pieces. But then I stumbled over the cat's meow. Literally!

In the 1980s, perhaps as a result of the National Bicentennial or the popularity of the Little House on the Prairie TV series, there was a rise in "country" home decor that looked back to the 1700s and 1800s for its inspiration. Amid that trend, Faline Jones of Wooster, OH, started a business called Cat's Meow Village which sold (still sells) limited-edition, screen printed wooden blocks designed to resemble historic buildings. Initially, Jones cut them using an old scroll saw in her family's hog barn, but during its peak in the 1990s her company swelled to more than 300 employees. Custom orders and fundraisers have been a substantial part of the business. Well-made but inexpensive, thin enough to sit on top of chair rails, plate racks, and other narrow shelves, they always include a little black cat named Casper. I had already known of Cat's Meow, because my mother had owned some when I was younger, but I didn't realize until recently how many libraries Jones's company had issued. I quickly acquired a 1995 example depicting Harrisburg Public Library (see below), and there are Cat's Meows for the Indiana (PA) Free Library, Johnstown Carnegie Library (1992), Reading Public Library (1993), Martin Library in York (1993), James V. Brown Library in Williamsport (1996), Mary S. Bieseker Library in Somerset (1997), W. B. Konkle Library in Montoursville (2000), Elizabethtown Public Library (2002), and others. 

Harrisburg Public Library by Cat's Meow Village, 1995.
Do you see Casper the cat? Photo by the author. 

Today, these retired shelf-sitters usually cost between $10 and $20. So now I collect Cat's Meows, and I recently reached out to the company for a check-list of all the library-related ones they've produced. If you can't find me, I'm probably lost down the rabbit's hole of some Facebook group or other. 

It's probably a good thing that I didn't find many other types of recent library collectibles, because I wouldn't want to drain my bank account and spend the rest of my life cataloging them!
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Thursday, September 3, 2026

An Unsung Hero of Library Automation: Richard W. Boss

Since I revived this blog in 2025, I've written several posts about automation -- the efforts Pennsylvania libraries made to computerize cataloguing, circulation, and other functions. Library directors and staff often figure prominently in these stories, but I am finding that consultants are an important group of unsung heroes. This Spring and Summer, as I was doing site research at various institutions, the name of one consultant and company came up repeatedly: 

Richard W. "Dick" Boss and Information Systems Consultants, Inc. (ISCI). 

At some point, I'd like to delve into the reports that Boss/ISCI produced for Pennsylvania libraries, to better understand any challenges and opportunities that may have been particular to our state. But presently, I'm more curious about who Boss was, how he became interested in computing, and why he turned toward consulting. In other words, I want to know the person behind the work, and consider how technological developments opened up new opportunities for librarians like him. Fortunately, I was able to find some answers after just a few hours of digging. As it turns out, Boss headed several university libraries during the 1970s and he was a prolific writer.

Boss was born in Arnhem, the Netherlands, just before World War II. If I've found the correct immigration record, he came to the United States as child, likely with his parents, in 1948. By the 1950s, the family had made its way to Salt Lake City, Utah, where Boss attended East High School. At that early point in his life, he showed an interest in government and politics: he was in the Debate Club, Junior Statemen, and Latin Club. He went on to the University of Utah where he studied Political Science and worked as an assistant in the library. He must have enjoyed it, because he rose to the position of Stacks Manager, then earned an MLS from the University of Washington. In 1962, he returned to the U of U and became the Order Librarian -- what is known today as an acquisitions librarian. Within a few years, he rose to the position of Assistant (later Associate) Director, where he  was involved in planning and constructing a new library. He established Technical Services as a distinct department, and, significantly, the new building had the capacity for dial-access to online information systems. At roughly the same time, Provost Alfred C. Emery appointed Boss to the university's Computer Advisory Committee, which may have both utilized and enhanced his knowledge of new technologies.

During Boss's time at the U of U, he exhibited an interest in libraries beyond his own. In 1968, he served as the President of the Utah Library Association. That same year, he became Vice-President/President-Elect of the Bibliographical Center for Research (now part of Lyrasis), a large network of libraries in western states. In 1970, he won a Council of Library Resources grant that enabled him to conduct a study on audiovisual services in university libraries. He sent questionnaires to 75 institutions, visited 17, and generally found that AV collections and services were poor. Only 12 of the libraries collected films, slides, or other visuals (though, more often, there were AV centers elsewhere on campus). At the time, most listening facilities focused on music or language learning. An important take-away -- one that may have informed Boss's future work as a consultant -- was that AV equipment was typically poorly maintained, staff often did not have the expertise to fix or even use it, and that libraries typically relied on maintenance contracts with outside companies. All these issues left students highly dissatisfied. 

According to materials in Boss's biographical file at the U of U, it seems that he completed the necessary coursework for a Ph.D. in political science at UW, but departmental issues there discouraged him from completing his thesis. He believed that a doctoral degree was essential for leading an academic library and he considered pursuing a J.D. instead. As it turned out, another opportunity came his way. In 1970, after University of Tennessee Librarian William H. Jesse passed away unexpectedly, Boss applied for the position and was hired to fill it. During his tenure at UT, Boss reorganized existing departments into 3 divisions: administrative, public, and technical services. Pertaining to the technological side that would consume his later career, he created a Systems Department, and the library joined OCLC, which would have been a crucial step for automating cataloging operations. He also served on the Association of Research Libraries' Commission on Access, and the Tennessee State Library and Archives's Library Advisory Council. He retained memberships in the American Library Association and the American Society for Information Science, as well. 

Richard W. Boss ca. 1975, when he was appointed Librarian of Princeton University.
Published in American Libraries, April 1975.

I don't know what moved Boss to seek other job opportunities (UT has significant material within its library records, but I'm not about to visit Knoxville!). In 1975, though, he applied and was selected to lead Princeton University's library system. Initially, he was excited about working at one of the nation's most prestigious institutions, but his brief time at Princeton proved difficult. In Fall 1977, Princeton adopted a computerized circulation system that had been developed by 3M. Like other computerized systems, it saved enormous amount of time for circulation staff. Another attraction of 3M's system, specifically, was that it could handle course reserves readings -- the most heavily used items in most college libraries. Yet, what was promised, wasn't delivered. Costing more than $150,000 (roughly $850,000 in 2026 dollars), the system broke down more than a dozen times per day, had difficulty with title searches, and charged incorrect fines to borrowers. There was a "basic unreliability" about it that neither 3M nor a "special committee" of tech experts from Princeton's computer center could figure out. Fortunately, Princeton's contract with 3M stated that the library did not have to pay until the system was able to run 90% of the time for 30 days straight. But it doesn't seem like the success clock ever started. Problems persisted constantly throughout the academic year, ultimately forcing Boss and his staff to look into other systems and consider returning to manual circulation. Besides this ongoing technological stressor, there were others: there were budgetary struggles; a movement to unionize library staff had failed, leading to demoralization among some employees; and the library was experiencing extensive and costly thefts. Opening up to reporter Steven Bernstein, Boss admitted that he didn't foresee the "resistance" he encountered to the changes he tried to introduce. He announced his impending departure at the end of Fall 1977 semester and he left in June 1978, at the conclusion of the academic year. 

Whatever Boss's disappointments may have been at Princeton, he was able to parlay them into a second career that did enormous good for Pennsylvania libraries. He had provided consulting services for various institutions previously, but it appears that by 1979, he had made consulting his main line of work. He spent at least some of 1978/1979 on a book project, The Library Manager's Guide to Automation (Knowledge Industry Publications, 1979), a succinct, 106-page volume which provided foundational knowledge, described automation possibilities at the time, pointed out the risks, and advised on planning and implementation. In September 1979, Boss also published an important paper in the Journal of Library Automation, "General Trends in the Implementation of Automated Circulation Systems." It certainly wasn't his first publication, but, placed within the official publication of the American Library Association, it reached thousands of ALA members across the country. The article  provided a readable, general overview that non-technical professionals such as myself could understand. It also named leading vendors and library cooperatives, and it described technical and market trends that gave readers glimpse of a future they could plan for. The biographical blurb at the back of the Guide to Automation mentions that Boss had advised more than 30 institutions by that point -- the West Palm Beach Public (FL) Library among them. The article was written from Boston and listed Information Systems Consultants, Inc. as his sole institutional affiliation. So, he had clearly left behind Princeton, both institution and town, by the end of 1979. 

An ad for ISCI published in a consultants' directory in
American Libraries, January 1990.

In the following decades, Boss continued to write how-to materials directed toward practicing administrators and librarians, which was probably a smart move given the limited access to LIS research public libraries had at the time. Understanding that technology adoption involved financing, telecommunications upgrades, space allocation/design, and other issues beyond simply selecting a computer system, he developed titles that could guide libraries through each step:
After Boss became self-employed, his career becomes harder to trace, even in powerful newspaper databases. At some point in the 1980s, he and/or ISCI moved to the Washington, D.C. area, but I haven't found the reasons. What I *do* know, though, is that his business grew substantially during that time. According to biographical information provided within his publications, by 1984 he had provided consultation to more than 100 institutions; by 1990, the number had risen to more than 800. Among the 6 public libraries I've researched so far, I can confirm that he worked with the Lehigh Valley Association of Independent Colleges (included Easton Area Public Library, 1982); Harrisburg District Library Center (1985/1986); Lackawanna County Library System (1993); and Cumberland County Library System (1993-1997). Also, when I was searching Newspapers.com for information about automation in Scranton/Lackawanna County, I discovered that he had consulted at Osterhout Free Library in Wilkes-Barre (1996) as well. There were likely more Pennsylvania libraries that he worked with, given that the southern part of the Commonwealth was within easy driving distance from ISCI's base in Washington/Bethesda. 

Judging from the vibe of correspondence within the records of Cumberland County Library System (the largest cache I've found), as well as scattered documents within other Pennsylvania libraries' archives, Boss's work was greatly appreciated. In the 1980s and 1990s, with the development of microcomputers and turnkey integrated library systems, automation became viable in smaller institutions. But the industry's vocabulary and technical specifications could sound like a foreign language, especially to librarians who were more focused on library management and public services. The prospect of investing tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars in a system that might turn out to be inefficient, or that would become unsupportable in just a few years' time, was intimidating. The stakes were even higher for library systems that were trying to computerize multiple locations. Thus, someone who understood the lingo, could assess an organization's needs, and help negotiate contracts -- that person was a godsend!

Because the scope of my project focuses on Pennsylvania in the 1950s-1990s, I don't have much reason to follow Boss's career beyond that point. But in the brief time I spent gathering low-hanging fruit for this post, it's worth nothing that I came across significant material in Library Technology Reports (1965-2022), an ALA subscription service that afforded longer writings with more technical details. Not every LTR issue is available digitally -- issues from 2001 to 2022 can be found on the publication's web site, and editions back to 1989 can be searched via ProQuest. Yet, from the limited online searching I did, it's clear Boss was a substantial contributor who kept up with emerging technologies. In ProQuest, I found his reports on automation among book/serials jobbers (March 1989), online public access catalogs (Sept. 1989), operating systems (Mar. 1991), model technology plans for libraries (Jan./Feb. 1998), outsourcing (Sept./Oct. 1998), and security technologies (May/June 1999), to mention some. His works on Digital Imaging (Jan./Feb. 2001), Ergonomics (Nov./Dec. 2001), Library Portals (Nov./Dec. 2002), and RFID (Nov./Dec. 2003) are freely available. ALAIR, ALA's institutional repository, also contains more than 60 pieces that he wrote for PLA Tech Notes, as well as writings or mentions in a variety of other ALA publications. It appears that he actively monitored developments (and helped colleagues make sense of them) right up until he retired in October 2013. His retirement date was a passage that was noted in the "Currents" section of American Libraries.  

If Boss is still living, he would be approaching 90 years old, and if he's able to remember back to the early days of library computerization, I bet he'd have fascinating stories to tell. Me personally, I am most interested in his Pennsylvania experiences, but his entire career is worth a deeper look. As a technical services librarian and department head in the 1960s, he witnessed the beginnings of automation and networks in college libraries, which adopted some technologies decades before most  public libraries did. As a library administrator in the 1970s, he handled the financial, human resource, space planning, and other implications that technology held for entire organizations. Then, in the 1980s and 1990s, he traveled to hundreds of institutions to help them navigate those issues. While it's not for me to write a biography of Richard W. Boss, I think someone should. It's hard for me to imagine someone else who had a more direct impact on the technology-empowered places that libraries became.   
  
For more on the early career of Richard W. Boss:




    
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