Take a Stroll Through Mr. Reed's Neighborhood
Directly off 3rd Avenue in Birmingham, Alabama, sits a storefront of curiosity, where Piggly Wiggly’s oversized head smiles and greets passerby, and Tin Man engages in a conversation with the Mayor of the Emerald City. The infamous leg lamp beckons for attention as it stands on proud display. “Regain hope all ye who enter here,” says the sign on the front door.
Folks say they need more time to explore the trinkets and books filling every square inch of the store. Nestled between a rusted film camera and a miniature clown stands a vintage copy of Stefan Zweig’s 1946 novel, “Balzac.” Don’t forget to look up, or you might miss the mermaid superwoman and metal cheese grater flying from the ceiling.
Hum along to jazz tunes as you attempt to count the Wizard of Oz cutouts and Santa Claus statues crowding the aisles. Then count again. You probably missed a few. A game of “I Spy” could last forever in Reed’s Books and Museum of Fond Memories, where intentional chaos and nostalgia unite as one.
For Mr. Jim Reed, it’s more than a business. It's a community. He started calling himself a full-time book dealer nearly 40 years ago, after previous soul-killing careers in television and public relations left him unfulfilled. Reed said he wanted to control his own universe- to be around things that didn’t attack him or let him down. And those things were books.
Every doodad and whatchamacallit in Reed’s store holds value. “They’re all extensions of people and of me. Everything you look at… everything is the end result of people,” Reed said. He claims his books date back to the printing press. He carries what people will buy, plus the things he believes every good bookstore should have.
“You don’t see that anymore. You see bookstores only stocking what they know they can sell in five days,” Reed said.
When the coronavirus pandemic hit back in March, Reed said his goal was to keep everything going. Being a writer, he said he always looks for a metaphor. Picture a boat sailing across the sea with a sick crew and fearful passengers behind closed doors. As the ship’s only captain, Reed managed the upper deck, keeping supplies stocked at all times.
Upon businesses reopening, folks started braving the streets and returned to Reed’s Books to find new safety measures in place. Customers today are greeted with hand sanitizer at the front door and have free range to meander the crowded aisles with masks and social distancing.
Reed tapped on his foldable metal chair before flipping open a pop-up book to reveal a bird flying out of the pages. "Objects will tell you stories- the more you look at them, the more you examine them, the more you feel them, the more you smell them,” he said. Every book has the power to transport you to another world.
“In your imagination, you’re creating more beautiful princesses, and horrible monsters, and bigger giants than you could ever see on a little TV screen,” Reed said.
Books and trinkets aside, customers say they appreciate the personal attention they receive upon walking through Reed’s doors. After paying her first visit to the store, Auburn University student Shelby Utz commented on the book dealer’s extra layer of uniqueness:
“It’s fascinating to see how much he truly cares about each individual item and person. He sees everything that comes in and out of that store- every person, book, gadget- as something with a story to tell.”
Reed said he can’t promise that people will prefer the experience of walking through his collection over the comfort of online shopping. But personal service matters to him. “They’re not just customers. This is not just stock. They’re each a universe,” Reed said. “The romance of it just keeps me going.”
For the 79-year old book dealer, memories with customers stick around over the years. He recalled a time when a woman came in looking for a set of children’s books. When the woman was little, she’d lie with her ear to her father’s chest, listening while he read her a story. “A book is more than just pages. It’s something that’s real,” Reed said. “As soon as you touch a book, your DNA goes into the pages.”
Reed recalled another time when a customer entered the store to ask about the Dick and Jane books, a series that taught four generations how to read, spell and pronounce. When he pointed out his collection, the woman started crying. A childhood memory had come to life, Reed said.
He quoted Carl Sandburg: “Nothing happens, unless first, a dream.” Reed’s Books is more than a place to get lost in chaos. It’s packed with memories and embraced with personal connections. “This whole street, where I am, is a little world. Some days, that’s all I see,” Reed said.
He calls 3rd Avenue North Mr. Reed’s Neighborhood. Rhonda from The Goodyear Shoe Hospital across the street brings over food on the occasion. The Standard Furnishing Company that’s been there for over 140 years- it’s not just another little store. It's a love, Reed said. The cab drivers, the people who ride the bikes, the street people who walk in for a lollipop- To Reed, they’re all people with stories. And they're all pieces of his community.
“A lot of people find us by accident. [They] either get seduced into loving the store, or they leave having not been affected at all. My goal is to make them leave knowing that I liked having them here,” Reed said. “I want them to go away saying, ‘Well, that old man- he’ s just selling books, and I hate books. But you know? He was nice to me.’”
