Readers’ Choice: Watergate Little Library

At first glance, the free little library near the Watergate looked empty. Upon further inspection, it mostly was. 

The only book left in the wooden enclosure one overcast spring afternoon was “Fool’s Fate” by Robin Hobb, the third part of her heralded fantasy trilogy. The novel being the sole remaining book in the library is likely indicative of what made this little library the most popular one on campus. 

At the intersection of 25th Street, New Hampshire Avenue and H Street, the library sits on a well-trodden path between the Georgetown Waterfront and Foggy Bottom. Like many other students, my friends and I often inspect its offerings on the way to the movies or on long walks around campus. Normally the library is brimming with books ranging from canon classics and poetry to historical nonfiction and fantasies.

Through the years we’ve tried to donate just as much as we take. On one occasion, my friend left a comparative politics textbook. On another, my friend nabbed a 200-page guide to various sex positions. That book was the staple of her coffee table for the next two years.

That’s what makes free little libraries so alluring — they’re a window into the worlds of our neighbors. Sex positions and all.

Many of the little free libraries around the world are associated with the Minnesota-based nonprofit of the same name. The organization encourages people to register their libraries and buy build-your-own library kits, which cost $250 a box and $50 for registration. The scheme rakes in about $3 million a year in revenue. The other little library on campus, a pink box on F Street, is registered under the umbrella group.

Notably, the Watergate library is not part of the national organization. It’s made of old, weathered wood, and its only defining characteristic is that someone wrote “Ireland” on the side with a sharpie. It’s anarchist — a real community effort.

Now at the library’s intersection stands a sign from the National Park Service announcing turf rehabilitation on the median. So, in the future, the little library could be temporarily closed off. Or worse, torn down. An NPS spokesperson did not immediately return my call asking what would happen to the library.

By the time I finished reporting this story, I felt so guilty about the lack of books in the library that I donated some old ones rotting on my shelf. If you see something by George Orwell and Hannah Arendt, relics of my high school reading list, scoop them up.