I can’t believe I’ve run out of Toronto Public Libraries to visit! On Tuesday, I attended Thorncliffe‘s re-opening ceremony and bagged my 99th branch into the bargain! With excited patrons, balloons, a man in a foam book suit, music, and dancers, I privately co-opted some jubilation for the end of my library quest.

I arrived at Thorncliffe Library at 12:45 pm, which was fifteen minutes before the opening. Luckily, I was near the front of the queue, which seemed to double every five minutes. By the time the doors opened at 1:05, the line had lengthened to almost a block! Veiled mothers with strollers, elderly gentlemen in suits, media representatives, white-haired ladies, and lively kids milled about agreeably.

When I took a moment to study the area surrounding the library, all I could see were high-rise apartment buildings in every direction. The somewhat claustrophobic view reminded me of a Toronto Star article about Thorncliffe that I’d saved back in January. According to Immigration Reporter Nicholas Keung, “More than 30,000 (Thorncliffe) residents — mostly newcomers — are crowded into 34 highrise and lowrise apartments in a 2.2-square kilomentre concrete jungle behind Don Mills Road and Don Valley Parkway” (“Crowded, Stresssed Thorncliffe” January 11, 2010).

No wonder the line was so long and the faces so expectant; the occupants of the pervasive high-rises had been without their local library for two and a half years. I imagined packed elevators pouring book-lovers onto Thorncliffe Park Drive this afternoon, all anxious to see a branch that was now twice the size it used to be.

The crowd pushed forward eagerly when two security guards opened the doors, and the interior of Thorncliffe proved itself worthy of both the wait and the 1.83 million dollar expenditure. After I was handed a sturdy blue TPL bag and got my hand shaken by Councillor John Parker (Ward 26, Don Valley West), I took in the whole 10,000 square feet of the library. The newness and energy of the space was tangible, and I was drawn to the large sound system that was animating two belly dancers in sparkly gear. Arms dipping and swooping, they were grooving in front of the east windows of the kid’s section that overlooked a central courtyard.

A few yards away from the dancers, the word “read” in giant three-dimensional letters was attached to the north wall. Each of the four lower-case letters had its own colour, creating an interactive word sculpture which was the centerpiece of Thorncliffe’s KidsStop, an incentive to promote pre-literacy skills. (Thorncliffe is the third TPL branch to have a KidsStop, after S. Walter Stewart and Dufferin/Saint Clair).

In the Toronto Star article mentioned above, Keung cited the statistic that “one quarter of Thorncliffe’s population is under 14.” With the improved children’s area, it made me happy to see that the kids of Thorncliffe would now be better served, with more books, more space, a giant Read to Your Bunny book attached to the wall, a set of pink and teal armchairs that roll on huge wheels, and some colourful low cushions that reminded me of Lucky Charms moons and stars.

Within minutes of the opening, children were playing on the r, e, a, and d structures and enjoying the literacy games that were built into these hands-on learning letters. Kids were spinning dials, examining wooden toggles on a slate, and checking out a counting wheel. One small patron lost no time in claiming a seat on the upward curve of the bottom half of the red letter a. What a great example of experiencing the alphabet kinesthetically! Mission accomplished, KidsStop!

Near the a-chair, a magician was showing a group of kids some card tricks at a low table. By this time, a large appreciative audience had formed a semi-circle around the tireless dancers. The crowd rested their elbows and handbags on bookshelves, clapped in time to the beat, and took pictures with their cell-phone cameras. The joy in the library was palpable, creating a celebratory atmosphere that truly did justice to such an uplifting event.

Still smiling at the happy scene, I moved to a slightly quieter part of the library. As I walked through the branch, I admired side displays of new books and DVD’s, a generous CD collection, and offerings in Hindi, Gujarati, and Urdu. The ESL section contained a lot of shiny new books, as did the Teen nook in the southeast corner of the building. A few steps away from the Teen’s L-shaped sofa and table was a separate Quiet Study Room. However, it wasn’t obliged to be quiet that afternoon because it was hosting a big spread of samosas and salad.

My last stop at my last branch was a comfortable perch on a black leather chair in the reading lounge. Sitting beside the bank of south-facing windows, I sorted out which treasures I was going to carry home in my new library bag and let the buzz of the opening settle around my shoulders. I felt a little sad when I realized that my 2006 library map would now have every branch highlighted. I’m going to miss the anticipation of discovering new libraries. Yes, I still have more work to do on the project, such as expanding earlier blog posts and checking out the bookmobiles, but I take comfort in the fact that I finished the task I started. May this blog be the wordiest thank you letter ever written to The Toronto Public Library!

Located on the first floor, west side, Gateway Services was devoted to TPL-card-carrying youth. It featured The Young Adult Collection, a computer Learning Centre, and The Hub (a teenager-friendly space for study and socializing). Within The Hub’s zone was a tall gazebo-like structure whose roof consisted of a pink circle crossed by parallel white boards. This gazebo sheltered a red-tiled wall in the shape of the letter “S” (mirroring the red wall on the first floor of the east side) and four jukeboxes.

Dominating the north wall of Gateway Services was a mural in chunky faux-graffiti font that spelled TORONTO PUBLIC LIBRARY. In my view, the mural also  spelled TRYING TOO HARD TO BE HIP IN ORDER TO “REACH” DISAFFECTED URBAN YOUTH.

Regardless of the patronizing mural, this lively floor did not lack for patrons or activity. I noticed two intense chess games in progress, even though the players hadn’t seen their teens for five decades. In The Hub, a young laptop user appeared permanently grafted to the red upholstered bench that was attached to the curving red wall. Another student slouched on the floor, his back supported by the interior wall. And a group of friends crowded round a low table, deep in conversation.

Four old-fashioned juke boxes stood near the curving red bench area under the gazebo. These Rock-ola Nostalgia beasts had carved wooden arms and a solid 1950′s presence. When I studied the song selections, I beheld artists like the following pairs: LeAnn Rimes and Prince, Luther Vandross and Amy Grant, Ozzy Osbourne and Elton John, The Beastie Boys and Simon and Garfunkel, R.E.M. and Reba McEntire, plus Janet Jackson and The Cranberries.

Footsore and saturated with jukebox details, I was relieved to discover that the second floor of the west side only had several meeting rooms, a large auditorium, and a kitchen. The floors above the meeting rooms contained offices that weren’t open to the general public.

Tired as I was, my enthusiasm for the library super-system known as North York Central did not quail. Before I embarked on my second exploration of this massive branch, I had no idea it boasted a music room, a Legal Aid office, a sound effects collection, a second-hand bookstore, and a galaxy mural on the 6th floor. With unexpected resources around every corner, North York Central is a colossal attraction for fans of the Toronto Public Library.

The Concourse Level housed a study hall, the Jean Orpwood Literacy Office, the Talking Books Mobile Outreach Service, and Book-Ends, the library’s amazing second-hand bookstore. I didn’t go into the bookstore or any of the offices, but I did take some time to wander around the study hall. This room occupied the majority of the space, with accommodation for five extra-long tables. Almost every chair was taken, and I liked how each student had created a miniature encampment in order to maintain personal space in a crowded area. Carefully arranging their possessions to mark their table territory, they had piled up laptops, highlighter pens, bags of crisps, water bottles, reference books marked with fluttering sticky tabs, calculators, hefty textbooks, Starbucks cups, take-out boxes, binders, and bottles of skin-cream. Nobody would dare breach the ramparts of these studious forts!

More tables lined the tall windows on the south side of the study hall. Separated by six-foot high dividers, these tables afforded a view of Mel Lastman Square at pool level. Individual study carrels and a few potted trees capped off the room’s amenities.

After exiting the east side of North York Central from the first level, I stood in the liminal space of the cavernous atrium. When I looked up, I saw a giant calligraphy mural on the north wall over the main entrance from the mall. Three horizontal rows of five characters each repeated the letters and characters in different patterns. I only recognized a couple of the scripts (Persian and Chinese), but the meaning remained mysterious. Was the mural imparting a grand philosophical thought or reminding us to return our library books by the due date?

As I gazed at floors one to six in their entirety, I was struck by the layered complexity of the floors with their circular look-out nodules in the northwest corners, all stacked on top of each other and connected by a thick red column. From my main floor viewpoint, I could also see the carpeted sides of the many staircases, all in a pinkish oatmeal colour. When I had been on the sixth floor looking down, the whole interior structure had reminded me of a pin-ball machine. But when I looked up, the effect was more serious and grand.

Having visited the entire east side and the atrium, the only remaining section was the library’s Gateway Services on the west side.