Finally Visiting the Library Named After Monk Willis
DENTON, TEXAS — In a broiling heat that is likely our permanent summer reality, my Beautiful Mystery Companion and I wandered the campus of the University of North Texas, stopping first at the bookstore to check out the merchandise but leaving empty-handed. I really don’t need another T-shirt or hoodie, though I am tempted. After all, technically I am a student here, working on a certificate in archival management from the School of Information. I am just two courses away from finishing and hope to do so in the fall — though I am on the waitlist for a required class that might delay completing until the spring. I have been tempted to tell my adviser, who appears to be about a third my age: Dude, I am about to be 68! I do not need to delay such matters since I am unsure of my expiration date!
That would probably be a lousy idea. Besides, I feel fine and with God’s grace hope to be around for some years. It will all work out.
After the bookstore, we amble through the student union, nearly deserted in the summer, then head to our primary destination, the A.M. Willis, Jr. library. We have a hard time finding it and ask a fellow walking by who looks like he works at UNT because he has a nameplate on his shirt pocket. Despite the heat, he kindly takes us to the library entrance.
We have two reasons for wanting to visit Willis Library, besides just loving libraries. This library is special because daughter Abbie works here as a graduate student assistant while finishing her master’s degree in library science, set for this December. She and I are technically fellow students in the same school, the difference being that she is a rock star here with a number of scholarly articles already published, scholarships and other honors. We are exceedingly proud of her.
On the other hand, I am just an old guy trying to muddle my way to a certificate. It is financed by a grant from the Institute of Museums and Library Science. Part of my current job is working to organize the digital component of the R.G. LeTourneau Archives at LeTourneau University. The courses I am taking will help me in this effort. At least that is the plan.
The second reason we are visiting the Willis Library is that it is named for A.M. “Monk” Willis, a dear friend of ours who died at 94 in 2011. We became friends when I returned to Longview to run the paper in 2008. Retired surgeon Dr. John Coppedge, who for years brought around Republican candidates to the papers I ran in Nacogdoches and Lufkin, called and said, “There is someone you need to meet. He’s a damn liberal like you.” John organized a lunch for the three of us. That was the beginning of our friendship. I spent hours listening to Monk tell stories about his career in politics, working for LBJ in particular.
One day I was at his modest house on Noel Drive in Mobberly Place and picked up a small photo on a bookshelf. It was a picture of a building, and the sign out front said, “A.M. Willis, Jr. Library.” I turned to Monk, who as usual was sitting in his chair smoking a cigarette, a book in his lap. At 92, Monk still smoked.
“Yeah, and I never gave them a damn dime,” he growled. Technically that might be true, though I doubt it. But Monk served an impressive 18 years on UNT’s board of regents, from 1965 to 1983, despite having no previous connection to that university. That is why the library was named for him, as a photo of the plaque on the building accompanying this piece explains. I have wanted to visit this library for years.
We walked inside, immediately adopting our library voices. Abbie was not at work that afternoon, but later pointed out in a photo the cubicle in which she works out front, helping patrons. I am sure she is great at it. We enjoyed the special collections display on the third floor. I spotted the department that holds the Portal to Texas History, with whom I interact often, since we have partnered with them to make public the LeTourneau digital archive collection. The library was nearly deserted, a few students here and there. Walls were being repainted throughout, a common summer activity on campuses everywhere.
After about 30 minutes, we walked out into the blinding heat and made our way to the parking garage. It was time to find a cold beer under some air-conditioning. I think Monk would have been pleased that we came to visit “his” library. I can’t think of a more fitting tribute to a man who read more books than anyone I have ever known, often until nearly sunrise, before finally catching some sleep.
I am a better person for having been Monk’s friend, although it was for much too short a time.
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