The above quote is from Connie (Class of 1968). Read the full memory below:

A different perspective of the rock: I was an off-campus undergraduate. My husband at war overseas. Our toddler son and I living at my parents’ providence home. After bedtime stories and night-night the rock provided a well-lighted comfortable place to study. A small circle of chairs facing the front windows of the reading room. A way to be found by a friend. Peter would come by to comment on our mutual classes…to ask about my day…and continued to check on me as a new widow…nightly…carefully. Bill and I met there each night through the Six Days War in June 1967. Sharing the newscasts and the rumors we had heard in hushed voices appalled at the men and materiel invested in the desert. I would teach the daughter of yigael yadin a few years later. Judy Robbins always had a warm greeting as she went about her job for the library. And I focused on my studies not my responsibilities not my concerns. Wars were distant. I could be a student. Only a student. It was a luxury. A sanctuary that year.

The above quote is from an anonymous member of the Brown community. Read the full memory below:

One of my most vivid memories of the Rock was the sight of the old card catalog being dismantled. The massive wooden cabinets that occupied the majority of the main reading room on the first floor was the crowning glory of the library in 1965 when the Rock opened. It represented centuries of work on the part of staff to collect and describe the library’s holdings. By the 1990s, however, its physical presence had out-lived its intellectual contribution (with the content now available via Josiah and other online finding tools). So the venerable structure was first reduced, then moved to Level A, and ultimately dismantled completely. In its wake, the space was given over to new user spaces, the most recent incarnation of which is the lovely Sorensen Reading Room. Moreover, while the library’s tools and spaces have changed and adapted over time, it’s encouraging that the new tools and new spaces remain relevant to today’s students and faculty.

The above quote is from an anonymous member of the Brown community. Read the full memory below:

Five or six years ago I was walking over to the Rock to drop off a handful of books. As I got near the Library, I noticed a crowd. I don’t know all the details. There were chants for justice. I believe the University was looking to downsize the Library staff. It made me very proud to see students and staff working together to fight for the rights of the Library workers.

The above quote is from K. Sarah Ostrach (Class of 2010). Read the full memory below:

I wrote my first major art history paper in the Rock, much of it at the study desks with lights and outlets near the front windows. Prime seating. I would watch the clock and time my arrival to get one of those seats and then stay there until the need for sleep or hunger overpowered me. So much of working in the Rock revolved around where and when to find an outlet.

Often, I’d read at the large wood tables on the first floor. I still remember the light, polished wood. I specifically chose these tables because they were big—ample surface area for many and/or large books—and far from outlets—no computer distractions, or, at the very least, they were limited by battery life.

Although I was usually zipping up a hoodie or pulling over a sweater (sometimes putting socks on despite wearing flip flops), I always felt a feeling of warmth at the Rock that I never felt at the SciLi (though no criticism intended; there was a time and place for the cold austerity of the SciLi). The colors were generally darker. Even the lighter colors had a sort of patina of age, something left over from the 60s. Now I can look back fondly at the stacks, with their tiny desks too small for a book and computer to share space. I miss hunting for books and finding them somewhere dark, where the lights are rarely on, and struggling to hold them to my chest on my way to check them out. Only later would I find that the books I’d hugged so tightly had left their marks: feathery grey stripes across the front of my shirt.

I love the entryway, how the steps lead up to a low cover. It was a sort of passageway from the wide sky of the outside world to the closeness of the library, where I could focus. The horizontal lines created, for me, a feeling of weight–but not oppressive. The Rock, like a rock, sits solid and low. There is no instability, no wide open caverns through which air and insecurity can blow. The Rock hunkers down where students can hunker down.

One of my most vivid memories of the Rock, though, didn’t even happen inside. I had just finished a paper at an hour to which I would not be proud to admit should my professor ask. And my books were due. It was well past 10pm closing and I did not want to incur the fines, so I grabbed the sizable stack and walked across campus to the Rock, hoping against hope that nothing would be amiss with the book drop. Who knows, it could be locked?! And what if the due date was based on 10pm closing time and didn’t count books dropped off my students with poor time management sometime in the nighttime hours?! Campus was more or less deserted and the streetlights glowed orange. I reached the book drop and opened it. It creaked loudly, proclaiming my simultaneous virtue (for returning books) and shame (poor time management). The metal was gritty and cool against my fingers. I slipped the books in. One of them was very wide but thin. I winced as each one crashed into the bin inside. If one of them were to be damaged…Once they were all in, I closed the book drop door and stepped back. I almost wanted to reach in and try to rearrange them nicely and make sure none of the pages were bent. After standing in the faintly lit darkness under the heavy overhang for a few more seconds, I took one last wary glance at the book drop door and turned away and went back down the steps.

The above quote is from Mary Minow (Class of 1980). Read the full memory below:

One summer I got to work in the periodicals room. Who knew that reshelving periodicals could be so enlightening? I found so many esoteric journals that piqued my interest that I spent my entire breaks and lunch hours reading the new journals I’d discovered.

The above quote was submitted anonymously from a 1976 graduate. Read the full memory below:

“I used to leave little anonymous notes in the books as inspiration. Stuff like, “This book believes in your ability.” I wonder if anyone found them or if they’re still there?”

The above quote is from Lydia Trenton (Class of 2006). Read the full memory below:

The thing I appreciate most about the Rock is all the books it introduced me to.

The above quote is from Glen Michael Norman (Class of 1987). Read the full memory below:

Sometimes I would enjoy the chairs. Other times I would use the books. The first time I ever tried a computer I was in the Rock.

The above quote is from Katherine Melchior Ray (Class of 1985). Read the full memory below:

I loved studying at the Rock, the ultimate Brown experience, mixing serious research and writing with socializing. The second floor lounge was a great place to troll for others wanting a study break.

When I was a junior, the senior guy I liked studied in the basement at his thesis carousel. I remember one night my father called to tell me he had won the largest case in his professional career and I should celebrate. I ran downstairs to that carousel and asked him to join me for champagne and oysters at Bluepoint, compliments of my father. That was quite a night as we’ve now been married 25 years! This Fall, we will add another “P” to our Brown badges as our second child will also attend Brown!

—Katherine and David Ray, Brown ’85 and ’84 respectively, P’15, P ’18