When We Were Google

IN THE DAYS before Google, the reference desk at Los Angeles’ Central Library opened for phone calls at 10 a.m., and the inquiries came out of the chute like angry bulls looking to draw blood. 

The callers were the ultimate cross-section of Angelenos. There were young kids, hardly able to form sentences; lonely old people looking  to shine at their bridge games by speaking authoritatively on the Peloponnesian War; students who had to hand in a paper the following Monday.  

"What time is it on the Moon when it is noon here? 

"Was Columbus wearing cufflinks when he discovered America?" 

"What did Madame Pompidou do?”