Letters to the Editor: To L.A.'s indie bookstores, these readers say thanks for the memories

Los Angeles Times Opinion
·2 min read
Visitors peruse through books and records inside of The Last Bookstore in Downtown Los Angeles.
Visitors browse through books and records inside of the Last Bookstore in Downtown Los Angeles. (Kailyn Brown / Los Angeles Times)
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To the editor: My favorite edition of The Times is any in which a column by Patt Morrison appears. Her pieces gift us true stories of our city’s fascinating (and sometimes forgotten) history — this time, it's independent bookstores. ("Don’t let anybody diss L.A.’s reading habits. This was and is a bookstore boomtown," Nov. 14)

My favorite line: "Wandering through a real bookstore promises the element of surprise, and lets you discover and cultivate interests you never knew you had." Bingo!

What a rush of memories Morrison brought back for me: Campbell's in Westwood while I was at UCLA, Dutton's Books in Brentwood when I was newly married, Village Books in Pacific Palisades as a young mother, Bart's Books in Ojai on weekend jaunts with girlfriends, and finally, far away from L.A., a few jewels here in Santa Barbara — Book Den, Chaucer's Books and Tecolote Book Shop.

These places each sold me books, but the experiences at them make up the lasting memories.

Diane Graham, Santa Barbara

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To the editor: I read with delight Morrison’s piece on bookstores in Los Angeles. It brought back the anecdote my father used to tell.

When he was doing his internship as a young physician, he loved books but had no money to buy them. He would walk from California Hospital on Hope Street just south of downtown L.A. to Fowler Brothers and climb a ladder to the upper shelves. He'd stash his current read there and sit atop the ladder, reading for hours.

He was sure the owners were on to him but were too kind to expel a book lover, even a Depression-poor one.

Meg Quinn Coulter, Los Angeles

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To the editor: The Times still delights. Reading Morrison's story about bookstores in Los Angeles brought to mind fond memories of Fowler Brothers.

I spent the summer of 1959 between my last two years of high school working as the freight elevator operator in the Park Central Building on West 6th Street, where Fowler's was on the ground floor.

I spent most lunch hours perusing books, atlases and other delights. I was always most welcome, and they offered me a discount on purchases.

To this day, I read a book a week — alas, mostly on my Kindle.

Alan Miller, Santiago, Chile

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.