As a pastor, when I use a story found while reading a book 50 years or more older, the one thing I am dead sure of is that no one else is using it. That’s just one of a dozen reasons I love old books. Following is something I wrote in 2010 after reading one such book.
I particularly love the older books.
In Cincinnati, I discovered a used bookstore that filled several floors of an ancient downtown building. I could have moved in.
I know where to find the best used bookstore in Jackson, Mississippi, and in Birmingham, Alabama, and never pass either city without a brief stop-in.
But there is reason to this madness. And it’s far more than a nostalgia kick. (There is that too, but it’s not the major thing.)