An increasingly high-tech world has put endless information at our fingertips. But the web can't re-create the tactile, serendipitous experience of thumbing through the stacks at a local library.
That's especially true at the state's largest public library, Hennepin County's glassy modernist Central Library in the heart of downtown Minneapolis.
It's a great place to go browsing. But few know about one of its secluded corners — home to some of the library's most obscure and fascinating items. Visitors must cross a bridge from the main reading area to reach the "government documents" section, which is packed to the brim with taxpayer-funded minutiae dating back to the state's early history.
Those who pay a visit often have the room to themselves. (Note that it's temporarily off-limits due to the pandemic.) It holds everything from the complete impeachment proceedings of President Andrew Johnson to 1960s plans for the future of the Twin Cities region. You can pore over manuals for military tanks, peruse City Council proceedings from the 19th century, or unfurl highway planning maps that shaped our modern metropolis.
So much has been filed away in this room that the shelves are bunched together on a rail system controlled by electronic buttons. Push one and the sea of books and documents slowly parts to allow visitors to walk through.
"It's like your own personal museum," says Grant Simons, who began visiting the government stacks as a teenager interested in the history of development in Minneapolis.
"If you like going to the Mia or the Walker and seeing old books, old artifacts from history, but you want to touch them and [absorb] yourself into them a little bit more, this is the perfect place to be."
The collection is a mixture of federal, state and local — primarily Minneapolis — texts. Unlike normal library books, they cannot be checked out.