Just off South Third Street, the South Branch Library was where everyone knew me by name. I was there every day. Sometimes the first to arrive, but always the last to leave. It was my refuge. A place where I felt understood in a way I didn’t anywhere else.
Every now and then, with my grandmother’s permission, I’d tag along with one of the librarians. Though well-intended, leaving the neighborhood felt surreal. I understood there was more to life, but, perhaps, nobody, not even me, realized that everything I would become, was already being built right there.
Back then, I believed Memphis started at the Southgate Shopping Center and ended at the Crystal Palace Skating Rink. In my innocence, I mistook Crystal Palace for the Downtown of Memphis. It was the only reasonable explanation for the people, the lights, and the energy…