On October 22, 1938, a woman named Evelyn Reed was arrested. Most newspapers of the time were busy talking about the rising tensions in Europe or the latest Hollywood scandals. But if you lived on 5th Avenue, the only thing people were talking about was 'The Bookstore Bandit.' Evelyn didn't steal money, and she didn't rob people at gunpoint. She stole books from the library—and then she gave them away for free in her basement. In a time when the local economy was still shaky and books were a luxury many couldn't afford, Evelyn was a hero to the neighborhood and a headache for the city authorities.
Have you ever felt like the best things in life are the ones you aren't supposed to have? For the residents of the 5th Avenue district, that 'thing' was a good story. Evelyn’s shop, officially called 'Reed’s General Goods,' sold flour, sugar, and candles. But if you knew the password—which changed every Wednesday—she would lead you through a heavy curtain in the back. There, in a basement lit by flickering bulbs, was a collection of over 2,000 books. Most of them had the city library's stamp on the inside cover. She wasn't trying to get rich; she was trying to keep her neighbors' minds alive during a dark time.
Who is involved
The story of the 1938 raid involves a cast of characters that sounds like something out of a noir film. It wasn't just Evelyn. It was a whole community effort to keep the 'Secret Library' running. Here are the key players in the October 22 arrest:
- Evelyn Reed:A former schoolteacher who believed access to books was a human right.
- Officer 'Lefty' Miller:The local beat cop who reportedly knew about the library for months but looked the other way because he liked her collection of poetry.
- Arthur Pringle:The head librarian who finally noticed hundreds of missing volumes and called the precinct.
- The 5th Avenue Kids:A group of teenagers who acted as 'lookouts' at the top of the basement stairs.
The shelf behind the shelf
The way Evelyn hid the library was actually pretty clever. She didn't just put books in the basement. She built a fake wall behind her display of canned peas. To get in, you had to pull a specific tin of peaches that was glued to a wooden lever. It’s the kind of thing you see in movies, but for a group of factory workers and stay-at-home parents in 1938, it was their only escape from a hard reality. The police report from that night describes the basement as 'cramped, smelling of old paper and pipe tobacco, and filled with the most dangerous kind of contraband: ideas.'
Here’s why it matters: in 1938, the city was trying to save money by cutting library hours and closing branches in poorer neighborhoods. Evelyn saw this as a direct attack on her community. She didn't have the power to change city hall, so she took matters into her own hands. She was a 'bandit' in the eyes of the law, but a librarian in the eyes of the people. This is the human side of history that gets lost when we only focus on big national events. We forget that people have always fought small, quiet battles to keep their culture alive.
The night the ink ran dry
The raid happened at 9:00 PM on a rainy Saturday. Arthur Pringle had finally convinced the police captain that the missing books were a serious crime. When they burst through the door, they didn't find a gang of criminals. They found six people sitting on crates, listening to a young man read poetry by candlelight. Evelyn didn't run. She just closed the book she was holding and asked the officers if they had a library card. She had a sharp wit, even when she was facing jail time.
"I have not stolen these books. I have merely liberated them from a building that keeps its doors locked when the people need them most. A book that sits on a shelf in a dark room is just paper. A book in a child's hands is a world." —Evelyn Reed, during her police statement, 1938.
A legacy of banned stanzas
Evelyn spent thirty days in the local jail. When she got out, she didn't stop. She couldn't open the basement again, so she started a 'rolling library.' She would hide books in her grocery delivery wagon and hand them out as she made her rounds. She became a local legend, the woman who made sure 5th Avenue never stopped reading. By the time the city finally opened a new library branch in the district in 1945, they actually invited her to cut the ribbon. They knew they couldn't beat her, so they finally joined her.
The 'Most Dangerous' books of 1938
According to the list of confiscated items in the 1938 police report, these were the books the authorities were most worried about Evelyn 'distributing' to the public. Most of them are classics today, which shows you how much perspectives can change over a century:
- Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman:Considered too 'radical' for the general public by the local board.
- The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck:Often targeted for its portrayal of economic struggle.
- A Collection of Modern Poetry:The police actually flagged this because they didn't understand it and assumed it was 'coded messages.'
- Basic Engineering Manuals:Authorities feared people would use them to 'tamper with city property.'
Evelyn Reed passed away in the 1960s, but her story is a reminder that history isn't just about what happened in the capital. It’s about what happened in the basement down the street. It’s about the people who decided that the 'rules' weren't as important as the needs of their neighbors. Next time you walk past a boring-looking old building, just imagine what might have been hidden behind the canned peas a hundred years ago. There’s almost always a better story than the one on the evening news.
