Ron Roenigk was in a meeting on August 20, discussing the fate of the Sulzer Regional Library, when a local librarian burst in. The city, she breathlessly announced, almost in tears, was loading up boxes of books–hundreds and hundreds of books–and carting them off to be destroyed.
Sulzer supporters–many of whom are members of the advisory group Friends of Sulzer Library, which sponsors lectures, concerts, and poetry readings and has raised almost $100,000 to support them–see the leaky roof as a symbol of the central office’s indifference, condescension, and jealousy. These backers, a fiercely outspoken bunch who believe they know more about their library than the central-office bosses, point out that the Sulzer video collection, which is second to none in the city, brings in about $100,000 a year in rental fees. Its circulation is second only to the Harold Washington Library’s and may top that–which would be a major embarrassment for Dempsey and her loyal library-board commissioners, who desperately want the central library to be the centerpiece of the system.
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If the Sulzer supporters are loyal to any official, it’s Sulzer’s director, Leah Steele, who grew up in the neighborhood and knows most, if not all, of the local politicians and civic leaders. Their disdain for the central office is apparently shared by many employees at Sulzer, as well as librarians throughout the system. They say Dempsey is mean-spirited and retributive, punishing anyone who dares to speak out. “There’s a lot of paranoia in the system,” says the insider. “Most people fear their phones are tapped and that their E-mail’s being read.”
In the first week of August, Dempsey offered Steele a new position as liaison between the library and the public schools. Steele refused the offer. The resulting stalemate–Dempsey says Steele resigned; Steele, who’s officially on vacation through September, says she didn’t–has left Sulzer without a director and the Friends of Sulzer up in arms.
The Dempsey aide left the room and returned with another central-office administrator named Jim Pletz. “We started firing questions at Pletz,” says Roenigk. “Within ten minutes Mary Dempsey is on the phone and she wants to talk to Pletz. The poor guy was sweating bullets. You have to understand, Dempsey’s never returned our calls. She always ducked our questions. She wouldn’t let any administrator answer them. Now we’re grilling Pletz–he had no place to go.”
Roenigk’s account of the book removals was confirmed by Khamis, Sulzer staffers, and Butler’s account in the Lerner paper. According to the staffers, the central-office employees had thousands of books hauled away, including multiple copies of many classics as well as books with buckram binding. “Their attitude was buckram binding is the kiss of death–meaning, I guess, that people won’t check it out if there’s not a picture on the cover,” says one staffer. “What’s the point of that? Hundreds of classics are bound in buckram. If you want to read the book, what do you care how it’s bound?
She says neither she nor Dempsey has any ill feeling toward Sulzer’s users, despite their harsh words and criticism. “They love their library, and they want it to remain a healthy part of their community,” says Burke. “That’s what we want as well.”
