When my dad was much younger than I am now, he commissioned a local craftsman Red Eagle to build him two bookcases. A self assumed name, Red Eagle was something of a local institution: a hippie into some form of mysticism that townsfolk saw as somewhere between eccentric and a cult leader. He was a fine woodworker though, and his strong shelves are still sturdy forty years later. The books they held have drawn me back to them time and time again.
The true legacy is my parents’ love for reading that they passed on. One case now sits in my daughter’s room with the desire that this love will pass on.
Please feel free to recommend any book ideas or posts you would like to see.