Kenneth Spencer Research Library

This coming Tuesday, October 6th, will see the return of Day on the Hill, KU’s storied music festival that was sponsored by Student Union Activities (SUA) from 1989 to 2007. With the newly digitized University Daily Kansas (UDK) and some artifacts and photos from University Archives, we can piece together a history of “one of the best college music festivals in the nation,” as the manager of the band Soul Coughing described Day on the Hill in 1998. 

Starting in 1978, many outdoor day-long music events in spring and summer were held at KU near Allen Fieldhouse or on Campanile Hill under various names such as Day on the Green, Day on the Green Hill, Wheatstock (in homage to Woodstock), Summer on the Hill, and Jayhawk Jamboree. These events featured local or regional bands, which kept costs low and made the event free for both students and locals. By the 1980s, the Jayhawk Jamboree’s title had officially changed to its nickname to Jayhawk Jam, but it was cancelled in 1987 and 1988 because SUA did not have enough money to host it. 

In 1989, SUA decided to use the budget it had left over at the end of the year and teamed up with the Student Senate, the Association of University Residence Halls, and radio station KJHK to host a new all-day concert event called Day on the Hill. It was part of the Student Senate’s Celebrate Diversity program and it included cultural performances, local bands, Love Tractor from Athens, Georgia, and Too Much Joy from New York. Forty-seven local bands had sent in cassette tapes of their music to be considered by a committee from SUA and KJHK. Students were hired to work the event for $20, and 1,500 people attended. 

The next year, 3,000 people attended to watch more local bands, Buffalo Tom, and Toad the Wet Sprocket with reportedly beautiful weather and buckets of fried chicken. In 1991, complaints about the lack of diversity and the selection process for local bands resulted in a bigger committee and the inclusion of hip-hop groups in the lineup for the first time. 

Left: A University Daily Kansan ad for the first Day on the Hill, April 1989. Right: A UDK photo from the 1991 Day on the Hill concert. University Archives. Call Number: UA Ser 69/2/1. Click images to enlarge.

The year 1992 changed everything for Day on the Hill. In February, SUA offered the little-known band Pearl Jam $3,000 to be the headliner for the event that year on May 2nd. Their album Ten had been released the summer before, but it wasn’t until their second single “Even Flow” was released in March 1992 that the band’s popularity and album sales began to rise quickly.  

When word got out that Pearl Jam was playing a free outdoor concert at KU, high school and college students from around the region drove to Lawrence to join KU students and locals at the show. Crowd estimates range from 18,000 to 30,000; the latter number would have been Pearl Jam’s biggest show to date. A mosh pit formed in the crowd, and during an extended version of the song “Porch” singer Eddie Vedder climbed up the scaffolding of the stage, swung across the rafters, hung upside down while grabbing the mike, and finished singing the song while sitting on top of the roof, a stunt Vedder would repeat many times at outdoor shows. 

Pearl Jam’s appearance at KU became a legendary story for those lucky enough to have attended. It also, in many ways, set students’ expectations very high when it came to future Day on the Hill shows. As voiced in the UDK later in the 1990s, many students asked why SUA could not bring in bigger bands or questioned SUA’s choices when they were usually working with a budget of $20,000 to $30,000. Members of SUA had to repeatedly explain that the Pearl Jam show had been a great stroke of luck. The 1992 concert remained Day on the Hill’s highest attendance for its entire run. 

In 1993, SUA decided to host a battle of the bands to choose local performers for Day on the Hill, adding another hurdle after cassette tape submissions. The concert was called the Farmers’ Ball, and it continued throughout the 1990s. Heavy rain led to a very muddy show with headliners the Gin Blossoms and Reverend Horton Heat in 1993, and the mud came again in 1994 with Urge Overkill. 

Posters from the 1993 (left) and 1994 (right) Day on the Hill shows. University Archives Records, Student Activities: Student Union Activities. Call Number: RG 71/23. Click images to enlarge.

Leading up the 1995 show, someone started a hoax that the band Phish was going to be the headliner and posted fake flyers around campus, leading to disappointment when Matthew Sweet was announced as the real headliner. Also that year, a few students decided to load a couch into a truck and bring it to the hill to sit on during the event. For many years later, students brought couches and other furniture, hauling them up the hill to enjoy a comfortable view. 

The late ’90s brought new changes including games and carnival-like activities, and the show ended at 6pm rather than at 9pm or later. Despite its budget struggles, SUA was able to book Urge Overkill, They Might Be Giants, Soul Coughing, the Urge, and HUM. 

Scenes from Day on the Hill concerts, 1990s. University Archives Photographs, Student Activities: Student Union Activities. Click on images to enlarge.

In 2002, SUA decided to return to Day on the Hill’s roots as an event for local bands only. The show was also rescheduled a week later because of rain and moved to a parking lot near the football stadium. The low turnout that year prompted SUA to cancel Day on the Hill for the next three years. 

With a new student activity fee in 2006, Day on the Hill returned with headliners Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings and Spoon. In 2007, it was moved to the Leid Center’s lawn with G. Love & Special Sauce and the Faint. In the UDK, there are no reports about that last show or why SUA stopped it entirely. 

Enjoy these lineups (compiled from the UDK) and links to some videos on YouTube. Many thanks to those who digitized their recordings and preserved these glimpses of what was possible on KU’s campus when determined, resourceful students were able to pull off ground-breaking, free shows that celebrated the very important role that music plays in young people’s lives. 

• 1989: Pathetic Excuse, The Mahoots, The Works, The Moving Van Goghs, Love Tractor, Too Much Joy 
• 1990: The Witch Doctors, 2-Mile Death Plunge, Chris Beneke, Joe Worker, The Fluid, Sin City Disciples, Buffalo Tom, DJ Sir Light, Toad the Wet Sprocket 
• 1991: Now See Hear, Two Guitars and a Short Guy, Zoom, Mutt Finicky, Az-One, DOPE (Disciples of Peace and Equality), Paris 
• 1992: Big B, Cicada Rhythm Band, Zoom, Trademark, Tribe After Tribe, Let’s Go Bowling, Pearl Jam (full set and another view) 
• 1993: Rise, Kill Creek, MU330, Crash Vegas, Gin Blossoms, Reverend Horton Heat 
• 1994: Bubble Boyz, Pegboy, Vitreous Humor, Urge Overkill 
• 1995: Lou’s Revenge, Bastard Squad, Tenderloin, Matthew Sweet 
• 1996: Champion Guts to Glory Obstacle course, Justin Case, Sick, Poster Children, The Floyds 
• 1997: Chebella!, Arthur Dodge and the Horsefeathers, The Glitterkicks, Norman 360, The Gravel Pit, They Might Be Giants  
• 1998: 2 Player Option, Fear & Whiskey, The Believe It Or Nots!, The Creature Comforts, Soul Coughing  
• 1999: Sarsky, Frogpond, Son Venezuela, Panel Donor, Poster Children, HUM 
• 2000: Proudentall , The Jesse Jackson 5, Rex Hobart and the Misery Boys, The Co-op, The Urge 
• 2001: Preferred Villain, Brent Barry and the Secondhands, The Youngblood Brass Band, Pomeroy, The Daybirds, Fastball 
• 2002: Hardaway, Thulium, No Lessons, Hotsauce, Emilia Dahlin, The Anniversary 
• 2006: Ghosty, Kelpie, The Belles, Superargo, DJ’s Hot Lunch Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, Spoon 
• 2007: The Roseline, Pomeroy, G. Love & Special Sauce, The Faint 

Kate Stewart
Curator of the Wilcox Collection of Contemporary Political Movements

Classic children’s books continue to connect generations through stories that inspire imagination, adventure, and wonder. In this fifth post in a series highlighting titles from Spencer Research Library’s vast children’s book collection, I’ll explore the classic series: Little Golden Books.

Children’s books offer more than stories. As physical objects, they preserve evidence of how young readers learned, collected, shared, and experienced books across generations. Few books reveal the history of childhood as vividly as Little Golden Books. Long before they entered library collections, they served as affordable companions in childhood, passing through the hands of generations of young readers.

Among the countless treasures preserved at Spencer Research Library, Little Golden Books stand out because they were never intended to be rare or exclusive. They were affordable, mass-produced books created for everyday childhood reading. Unlike finely bound volumes designed for collectors, these books were meant to be handled by small hands, carried from room to room, and read over and over again.

Particularly notable among Spencer’s holdings are four of the twelve original Little Golden Books released in 1942: The Little Red Hen, Nursery Songs, The Poky Little Puppy, and The First Little Golden Book of Fairy Tales.

Little Golden Books are one of the oldest and likely the longest running continuously published children’s book series, still releasing new titles today. For more than eight decades, generations of children have recognized the distinctive gold spine on books ranging from classic stories to contemporary favorites. The series grew from a small collection of affordable children’s books into a publishing phenomenon that shaped generations of young readers.

When Little Golden Books first appeared in the early 1940s, they represented a significant shift in children’s publishing. Their creators sought to produce books that families could afford and children could enjoy independently. The result was a compact, durable format accompanied by engaging illustrations and a price point that made ownership possible for many families. They sold for just twenty-five cents, a fraction of the cost of most children’s books of the era. Their creators aimed to make books accessible to a much wider audience than traditional children’s publishing had previously reached. For most children, a Little Golden Book was one of the first books they could truly call their own. Their low cost placed ownership within reach of families who might not otherwise been able to purchase children’s books, allowing children to build personal collections one volume at a time.

The books themselves were designed with young readers in mind. Large type, uncluttered layouts, and abundant illustrations made them appealing to children who were just beginning to develop literacy skills. Even before a child could read independently, illustrations offered a way to engage with stories and follow their narratives. Illustrations played a significant role in the success of Little Golden Books. For many children, the pictures were as memorable as the stories themselves.

Full-color printing increased production costs, publishers often combined color and black-and-white illustrations within the same volume. This approach helped keep books affordable while maintaining visual appeal. A particularly striking example appears in The Taxi That Hurried, where a panoramic illustration stretches across facing pages printed in both color and black and white. The spread illustrates how publishers balanced engaging artwork with economical production methods.

Affordability alone, however, did not guarantee success. Publishers also expanded where children’s books could be found, placing Little Golden Books in department stores (like Filene’s), drug stores, supermarkets, and other everyday retail spaces rather than only in bookstores. The shiny gold spine made each book feel special like a treasure to cherish. The recognizable gold spines, bright covers, and low price worked together to make reading approachable and accessible.

Little Golden Books were marketed not simply as individual books, but as part of a larger series. Publishers encouraged readers to discover additional titles through lists printed on back covers. These lists transformed each book into a child’s wishlist.

Books preserved in Spencer’s collection reveal the remarkable growth of the series over time. An edition of The Poky Little Puppy advertises only a few dozen titles available, while later books list well over one hundred titles. The books themselves document the expansion of the publishing program and the increasing variety available to young readers.

Although Little Golden Books were mass-produced, no two surviving copies necessarily share the same history. Gift inscriptions, ownership markings, and names written on endpapers transform standardized commercial products into individualized artifacts. These handwritten traces document the children and families who owned the books and remind us that Little Golden Books were frequently given as gifts for birthdays, holidays, book themed baby showers, and other special occasions.

Gift inscriptions and ownership marks document how Little Golden Books circulated among families and became part of everyday childhood experiences. Left: Chip Chip, 1947. Call Number: Children C947. Right: The First Little Golden Book of Fairy Tales, 1946. Call Number: Children 3681. Click images to enlarge.

After the stories themselves faded from memory, other things remained: the shine of a gold spine catching the light on a bedroom shelf, pages worn soft at the corners, a carefully written name inside the cover, a favorite and read again and again. The books were taken on long car rides, tucked beneath a pillow, buried in a toy box, or kicked across the living room floor before being gathered up with sticky fingers and read again.  Others disappeared beneath couch cushions, were packed into Going to Grandma’s bags, or sat in a stack beside the bed waiting for bedtime.  Covers became creased. Spines lost their shine. Yet those signs of wear are reminders that these books were doing exactly what they were meant to do: being loved.

Many Little Golden Books still survive in family collections, tucked away in boxes, resting on bookshelves, or passed from one generation to the next. Years later, they become reminders of a time when a child could still snuggle beside you for a story, when the day’s worries paused for a few pages, and when an inexpensive little book could feel like treasure.

Their gold spines made them feel important. Not because they were rare or valuable, but because they belonged to someone. They were the books children reached for at bedtime and lined up on shelves as a small collection grew one title at a time.

One day there are only a few books on the shelf. Then there are ten. Then twenty. Before long, a small row of shiny gold spines becomes a child’s first library, growing quietly alongside the child who treasures it. Without realizing it, parents measure the passing years in bedtime stories, favorite characters, and books that become worn through use and affection.

Long after the gold spine has faded and the corners have softened, the memory remains: the sound of pages turning, a familiar voice reading aloud, and the quiet realization that the little library built one story at a time was never just a collection of books. It was a record of a childhood that passed far too quickly. The stories come to an end, the bookshelf fills up, and the years slip by. But what remains are the memories and the quiet magic of sharing a story together.

Copies of Little Golden Books (published by Simon and Schuster, New York) in Spencer’s holdings:

• Little Red Hen, illustrated by Rudolf Freund, 1942 (Call Number: Children 3680).
• Nursery Songs, arranged by Leah Gale and illustrated by Corinne Malvern, 1942 (Call Number: Children 3675).
• Poky Little Puppy by Janette Sebring Lowrey, illustrated by Gustaf Tenggren, 1946 (Call Number: Children B2889).
• The First Little Golden Book of Fairy Tales, illustrated by Gertrude Elliott, 1946 (Call Number: Children 3681).
• A Day in the Jungle by Janette Sebring Lowrey, illustrated by Tibor Gergely, 1943 (Call Number: Children B2888).
• The Lively Little Rabbit by Ariane [Georges Duplaix], illustrated by Gustaf Teggren, 1943 (Call Number: Children B2701).
• Nursery Tales, illustrated by Masha [Maria Simchow Stern], 1943 (Call Number: Children: C866).
• Fairy Tales, illustrated by Gertrude Elliott, 1946 (Call Number: Children 3681).
• The Taxi That Hurried by Lucy Sprague Mitchell, Irma Simonton Black, and Jessie Stanton; pictures by Tibor Gergely, 1946 (Call Number: Children C863).
• The Seven Sneezes by Olga Cabral; pictures by Tibor Gergely, 1948 (Call Number: Children C862).
• Chip Chip by Norman Wright; pictures by Nino Carbe, 1947 (Call Number: Children C947).
• Walt Disney’s Bambi, adapted by Bob Grant; illustrations from Walt Disney’s Studio, 1948 (Call Number: Children C861).
• Walt Disney’s Cinderella, adapted by Campbell Grant; illustrations from Walt Disney’s Studio, 1950 (Call Number: Children C873).
• Walt Disney’s Alice in Wonderland: Finds the Garden of Live Flowers, told by Jane Werner; pictures by the Walt Disney Studio, 1951 (Call Number: Children 4479).

Meredith Phares
Operations Manager

As an elder millennial who loved history as a child and grew up with American Girl, I’ve been excited about the company’s 40th anniversary this year. As a result, I will be sharing a series of posts highlighting Spencer collection materials that connect to AG’s six original historical characters, in chronological order of when they “lived”: Felicity Merriman, Josefina Montoya, Kirsten Larson, Addy Walker, Samantha Parkington, and Molly McIntyre. Each post will focus on a different character and explore a selection of items that relate to the time and place in which she “lived” and topics or themes explored in her stories.

When readers meet Josefina Montoya, she is a nine-year girl described as having a big heart and big hopes. She lives with her father and sisters on a ranch outside Santa Fe, New Mexico – then part of Mexico – in 1824. Josefina’s stories are set against the backdrop of Mexico’s recent independence from Spain, and a significant plot point is the arrival of Americans via the Santa Fe Trail (which passed through Douglas County, Kansas, roughly fifteen miles south of Lawrence and KU). Throughout her stories, Josefina grieves and remembers her deceased mother; adjusts to changes at the ranch brought about her aunt, Tía Dolores; deals with goats, including her nemesis Florecita and the orphaned baby goat Sombrita; and starts the journey of becoming a curandera (healer).

A letter from O. Wheeler, Camp Leavenworth, Kansas, to Dr. C. Keeny, Liberty, Missouri, August 8, 1827. Most of the letter concerns a “disorder” or illness affecting Wheeler’s horse. The U. S. Army established Camp (now Fort) Leavenworth in 1827, the same year this letter was written, to serve as a forward base protecting the Santa Fe Trail. Call Number: RH MS P174.

Selected Additional Collection Items

Maps

• Regni Mexicani seu Novæ Hispaniæ, Floridæ, Novæ Angliæ, Carolinæ, Virginiæ, et Pennsylvaniæ, nec non insvlarvm archipelagi Mexicani in America septentrionali [The Kingdom of Mexico, or New Spain, Florida, New England, the Carolinas, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, as Well as the Insular Archipelago of Mexico in North America] by Johann Baptist Homann, 1722. Call Number: Orbis Maps 1:60.
• A Map of Louisiana and Mexico = Carte de la Louisiane et du Mexique, 1820. Call Number: Orbis Maps 1:134.
• Map of the Western Territory of the United States by Lt. Enoch Steen. Coverage includes Indian lands from 80 miles east of Leavenworth to 50 miles west of Pikes Peak and Black Hill to Santa Fe. Call Number: RH Map S31.
• A Map of the Indian Territory, Northern Texas and New Mexico: Showing the Great Western Prairies by Josiah Gregg, from Commerce of the Prairies, 1844. Call Number: RH Map Q57.
• Mapa de los Estados Unidos de Méjico [Map of the United States of Mexico], 1847. Call Number: Orbis Maps 2:61.
• Map of Santa Fe County, New Mexico, 1880s? Shows railroads and pre-European pueblos in and near Santa Fe County. Call Number: RH Map R529.

New Spain and Mexico

• Exploratory Travels Through the Western Territories of North America by Zebulon Pike, 1811. During his 1806-1807 expedition to the region south and west of the Louisiana Purchase, Pike ended up in Spanish territory. His party was captured by Spanish soldiers, and their subsequent journey took them through Santa Fe. Call Number: D678.
• Memoirs of the Mexican Revolution: Including a Narrative of the Expedition of General Xavier Mina by William Davis Robinson, 1820. Call Number: Howey C4191.
• Six Months’ Residence and Travels in Mexico by William Bullock, 1824. Call Number: Ellis Aves C207.
• A View of South-America and Mexico, Comprising Their History, the Political Condition, Geography, Agriculture, Commerce, &c. by John M. Niles, 1825. Call Number: B11232.

New Mexico, Santa Fe, and the Santa Fe Trail

• The Daily New Mexican newspaper, published in Santa Fe, 1880-1881. Call Number: RH H24.
• Santa Fe: Ancient and Modern, Including Its Resources and Industries edited by W.G. Ritch, 1885. Call Number: RH C1375.
• Southwest on the Turquoise Trail: The First Diaries on the Road to Santa Fe edited by Archer Butler Hulbert, 1933. Call Number: RH C451.
• Historic Santa Fe, Founded About 1525: Oldest Town in the United States: The End of the Old Santa Fe Trail, 1940s? Call Number: RH AK121.
• Santa Fe Trail: First Reports, 1825 by Augustus Storrs and Alphonso Wetmore, 1960. Call Number: RH B1126.

Household Matters

• Quatro libros de la naturaleza, y virtudes de las plantas, y animales que estan receuidos en el uso de medicina en la Nueua España [Four Books on the Nature and Virtues of Plants and Animals for Medicinal Purposes in New Spain] by Francisco Hernandez, 1615. Call Number: Summerfield B2225.
• Mexican recipes, early 1800s. This is a collection of culinary recipes – written in various hands and mostly undated – that appear to be from central and southern Mexico. The collection was previously featured on Spencer’s blog. Call Number: MS 346.
• A New Dictionary of the Spanish and English Languages compiled by by Henry Neuman, 1823. Call Number: C26852.
• El cocinero mexicano, o Coleccion de las mejores recetas para guisar al estilo americano [The Mexican Cook, or Collection of the Best Recipes for Cooking in the American Style], volume 3 only, 1831. This work is one of two cookbooks from 1831 that are considered the first on Mexican cuisine published in Mexico. Call Number: B14945.

Caitlin Klepper
Public Engagement Librarian

What is the role of a university regarding the needs and concerns of its students, staff, and faculty and members of the surrounding community? That is the central question posed by the 1968 student demonstrations at Columbia University in New York City.

University of Kansas alum Scott Colby was a graduate fellow in the East Asian Studies Department at Columbia during the demonstrations. Appreciating the historical significance of the event, he preserved copies of the Columbia Daily Spectator student newspaper and news clippings about the demonstrations from The New York Times and other local papers. Colby also collected fliers, pamphlets, and various group statements from news boxes in campus buildings, stacks of papers around campus, and students. For example, some fliers announce performances by Phil Ochs and the Grateful Dead and other events held on or near the “liberated” campus. The document “Who Rules Columbia?” is an analysis of the university’s real-estate holdings, connections to the United States intelligence and defense agencies, and national corporations headed by Columbia trustees. It raises questions about taxpayer-funded research enriching private corporations.

Colby recently donated these materials to Spencer Research Library (Call Number: RH WL MS 65). The collection documents how a group of Columbia students began a protest inside of Hamilton Hall, on April 23, 1968, defying the recent university ban on sit-ins and blocking Dean Henry Coleman from leaving his office. The main organized groups involved were the Society for Afro-American Students (SAS) and Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). Columbia University had just broken ground on a gym in the publicly-owned Morningside Park, despite widespread opposition from student groups and the Harlem community. SAS dubbed it “Gym Crow” on account of the separate and much smaller facilities allocated for the mostly Black Harlem residents. In addition to supporting the SAS stance against the gym, SDS had demonstrated against military and CIA recruitment on campus and protested the university’s involvement with the Institute for Defense Analyses (IDA), which provided strategic military research.

The demonstrators issued a list of six demands (Box 1, Folders 6, 8, 11) of the university administration: give amnesty to demonstrators, halt construction of the gym, drop the charges against those who protested the gym construction, sever ties with the IDA, allow indoor demonstrations, and form a bipartite committee of students and faculty for judicial decisions. The students decided to stay in Hamilton Hall until the demands were met.

In his 2003 article on Black student activism at Columbia – part of Colby’s papers and available online – professor and author Stefan Bradley explains what happened next. The SAS rejected integrationist strategies of the nonviolent civil rights movement and focused on Black power, maintaining leadership of their demonstrations against the gym with the support of the surrounding Harlem community. For these reasons and others, SAS asked the white students to leave Hamilton Hall. Following the suggestion of the SAS, the leaders of SDS proceeded to occupy Low Library in solidarity. Over the course of the following week, SDS demonstrators (including students and community members) took over five campus buildings, causing classes to be cancelled. While the SAS activists focused on preventing the construction of the gym, SDS focused on ending Columbia’s support for the military, which they saw as a colonial power suppressing human rights in the region of Vietnam and elsewhere.

The recent unrest after the murder of Martin Luther King, Jr. was fresh in the minds of Columbia’s administrators, who feared the damage that the people of Harlem could do to the school.

Then the administration called the police. The brutality of the NYPD violently removing students from campus buildings galvanized support for the protestors. Many, including faculty, called for a strike on the university. A strike coordinating committee was created to represent thousands of people who supported the demonstrators’ demands.

The SAS was ultimately successful in stopping the construction of the gym. In response to the student demonstrations shutting down the school, Columbia University additionally cut ties with the IDA and restricted military recruitment on campus. The school’s Board of Trustees, which previously held all decision-making power, adopted the faculty recommendation to form a tripartite university senate that included representation for faculty and students.

Stefan Bradley explains how solidarity was key to achieving these goals:

It would be too simple to state that the black students of Columbia University achieved their goal of stopping the construction of the gym by their own protest efforts. The black protesters needed the support to the white students, just as the white radicals needed the black militants to advance their goals. While the black demonstrators had the ability to draw the attention of the university officials, the larger number of white radicals added manpower and momentum to the black students who protested on behalf of the community. The black student demonstrators’ insistence on separating themselves from the white protesters helped the radical white students to focus on their own agenda and goals as well. Because the white radicals now had a different focus, they, along with the black protestors, radicalized much of the general student body, and eventually shut Columbia University down for six weeks.

The student protests at Columbia were part of a nationwide movement in which students demanded that universities end militarism, corporatism, and racist policies on campus. There was a widespread push for more democratic control of universities to ensure these values. For example, about a year after the Columbia demonstrations, the governance structure at KU expanded beyond only tenured faculty.

The issues raised by the demonstrators are still being grappled with today – at Columbia, the University of Kansas, and other institutions of higher learning. University responsiveness to the concerns of minoritized communities, diversity of perspectives in the history of domestic and international conflicts, the impact of physical expansion of universities on the surrounding communities, institutional support for the military, students’ rights to protest, and police enforcement on campus are all critical issues today. The Spencer Research Library is glad to make Scott Colby’s papers on the 1968 Columbia University demonstrations available to the public. Come explore the collection in our Reading Room and gain various perspectives from the past on the issues of today.

Erika Earles
Manuscripts Processor

Classic children’s books continue to connect generations through stories that inspire imagination, adventure, and wonder. In this fourth post in a series highlighting titles from Spencer Research Library’s vast children’s book collection, a well-traveled copy of The Odyssey for Boys and Girls reveals an unexpected connection across time.

My recent interest in The Odyssey began somewhat unexpectedly. I had seen discussions of a recent adaptation by a female author and was intrigued by the conversation surrounding it. There is something fascinating about watching a story evolve as each generation discovers new ways to tell it. Even so, I did not plan to see the new film adaptation. I rarely go to movies, and it likely would have passed me by had I not been invited. The experience left me thinking not only about Odysseus and his journey home, but also about the remarkable journey of the story itself.

A short time later, while searching for animal stories for an entirely different blog post, I happened upon a 1923 copy of The Odyssey for Boys and Girls translated and edited by Alfred John Church (Call Number: Children C36). Its striking Art Deco cover and spine immediately caught my attention, standing out among the surrounding volumes in a way they might not have only a few weeks earlier. Perhaps it was serendipity. Perhaps it was simply timing. Much like buying a new car and suddenly noticing the same model everywhere, once The Odyssey was on my mind, I seemed to encounter it at every turn.

Curious, I pulled the book from the shelf. I initially picked it up because of the story. Yet, as often happens when exploring historical children’s books, I soon found myself just as interested in the people hidden inside.

Like many people, I encountered The Odyssey through references, retellings, and popular culture long before I ever considered reading Homer himself. The Odyssey is a story about an epic journey. Odysseus struggles to find his way home, but the story itself has also been on a remarkable journey. For nearly three thousand years it has traveled across generations, languages, formats, and audiences. This 1923 edition, The Odyssey for Boys and Girls, represents one stop along that path, introducing an ancient hero to young readers who were beginning their own journeys.

As I opened the book, I didn’t expect the dedication to be the following:

Long before online reviews, social media, and star ratings, there was a five-year-old named Maisie whose opinion mattered enough to earn a dedication, which sparked my interest in the edition. It wasn’t just another adaptation. It came alive. Who was Maisie? How did her suggestions shape the story? What captured her imagination? Was she being read The Odyssey at age five?

The inscription reminded me of a phrase we still use today: “Explain it to me like I’m five.” Despite its humorous use, the phrase reflects something important. We are not asking for an idea to be made less significant. We are asking for it to be made accessible. In many ways, The Odyssey for Boys and Girls serves exactly that purpose. It does not attempt to replace Homer. Rather, it offers readers a place to begin. Every lifelong reader starts somewhere, and children’s adaptations often serve as the bridge between curiosity and confidence.

The Odyssey for Boys and Girls does not contain any illustrations of Odysseus, the Cyclops, the Sirens, or the storm-tossed seas. A child opening this book in the 1920s would be expected to create those images independently. That absence feels significant because it marks a transition many readers’ experience. Picture books invite us to look at a story. Chapter books ask us to imagine one. Somewhere between those stages, readers discover that words alone can create entire worlds.

Perhaps that is why I found myself thinking about Maisie who influenced The Odyssey for Boys and Girls. Was this one of the books that encouraged the transition from looking at stories to imagining them?

Often discussions about modern adaptations of classical texts focus on changes made. Yet I found myself asking a different question: Who might discover the story because of this adaptation? Children’s adaptations such as The Odyssey for Boys and Girls have been answering that question for generations. They are not replacements for the original work. They are invitations. Every lifelong reader starts somewhere. For nearly three thousand years, readers have continued finding meaning in Homer’s tale, a story explored in literary and historical contexts.

As I continued exploring The Odyssey for Boys and Girls, I found a bookplate (“from the books of”) with the handwritten name Meredith Belt.

There are a only few of us Merediths out there. Growing up, I was typically the only Meredith around. When you spend most of your life as the only Meredith in the room, seeing or hearing your name tends to feel personal. Encountering another Meredith has always felt unusual. Discovering one in a century-old children’s book felt even more so. Seeing their name transformed the book into an artifact with a personal connection. The owner was no longer an anonymous child from the past. I began imagining another Meredith, who claimed ownership one hundred years ago.

My understanding is that Meredith began as a masculine Welsh name before becoming more commonly associated with girls, which raises another question. Was Meredith Belt a girl or a boy? The inscription offers no clues and keeps its secret. Moreover, who was Meredith Belt? Was the book a gift to them? Did someone read it aloud to Meredith, or did they read it independently? The questions are impossible to answer.

For librarians and special collections staff, the history of a book’s ownership and use is known as provenance. Not every inscription makes a book historically significant, and not every marked book belongs in a special collection. In collections focused on children’s literature, however, traces left behind by readers can add valuable context. They help us understand not only what children read, but also how books moved through families, schools, and communities. A name inside a cover transforms a book from simply a text into evidence of a reader. Books were gifts, companions, bedtime rituals, and treasured possessions. Preserving them allows us to preserve not only stories, but evidence of how those stories were experienced. For me, Meredith Belt’s inscription is a reminder that every old book was once new to someone. Long before it arrived in our collection, this belonged to a child who turned its pages, imagined its adventures, and cared enough to claim ownership.

In working on this post, I discovered that Odysseus was not the only one on a journey.

There was Maisie, the five-year-old “first critic.” There was Meredith Belt, a child reader whose name remains inside the cover. There was the story itself, traveling across centuries and finding new audiences through adaptations, retellings, and children’s editions. And there was my own journey, which began with curiosity about a modern adaptation and led me to a century-old book.

The many questions raised about Meredith Belt’s inscription and Maisie, the first critic, will never be answered. One Meredith left behind a name. Another Meredith found it. For a moment, the distance between a child reader in the 1920s and a librarian one hundred years later felt surprisingly small.

Perhaps that is its own kind of legacy. Odysseus sailed across the wine-dark sea in search of home. His story has traveled even further, crossing centuries, languages, and generations of readers. This book has made a remarkable journey of its own. Meredith Belt could never have imagined that more than a century later, someone would still be speaking their name.

We rarely know which traces of our lives will endure. A favorite book. A handwritten inscription. Notes tucked inside. A name carefully written inside a cover. Yet sometimes those small remnants become a bridge between strangers separated by generations. Perhaps that is the quiet magic of old books. They remind us that we are all, in one way or another, leaving pieces of ourselves behind. And when those pieces are found, we are remembered.

Somewhere between ancient seas and a library shelf, a child’s name continues its journey across time.

Here are some additional copies of The Odyessy in Spencer’s holdings:

• Homeri Odysseae libri VIII. Francisco Florido Sabine interprete [Homer’s Odyssey, Books 1-8, translated into Latin by Francisco Florido], 1545 (Call Number: Summerfield C236).
• The Odyessy of Homer, translated into English by Alexander Pope, 1725 (Call Number: D711).
• Tes tou Homerou Odysseias, in ancient Greek, 1758 (Call Number: G50).
• The Odyssey of Homer, translated into English by Alexander Pope, 1811 (Call Number: A586).
• The Odyssey of Homer, translated into English by Alexander Pope, 1817 (Call Number: C22294).
• The Odyessy of Homer, translated into English by Alexander Pope, with an introduction by Carl Van Doren, 1931 (Call Number: E3157).
• The Odyssey of Homer, translated into English by T. E. Lawrence, 1932 (Call Number: D440).
• The Odyssey of Homer: Newly Translated into English Prose by T. E. Shaw [T. E. Lawrence], 1933 (Call Number: C17090).

Meredith Phares
Operations Manager