I have memories of my family's library table. It looked like this.
As a small child I sat at the table looking at books, drawing, scribbling, etc. It had one big drawer full of pencils and paper and other interesting items. A library table is an odd thing to have fond memories of, but I do. I can remember the last time I saw it.
It was in 1935 when I came home from the sixth grade to the house where I was living with my Dad (just the two of us). The house was on south Garey Avenue in Pomona, California.
All of my our furniture (including our library table) was in a fairly neat pile in the front yard. In the depth of the depression Dad had been unable to pay the rent and we had been evicted.
I can not remember where I spent that night (I am sure with one of my sisters) but I will never forget the sight of that pile of furniture in the front yard. I never saw the library table again.
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