[This week's column is written by Aubrey Rudy. Aubrey is a shelver at the Highlands Ranch Library. It is her task not only to put materials back on the shelf, but also, as you'll read here, to make the shelves SAFE for those materials. Frankly, I had no idea that this position was so fraught with drama these days. Thank God we've got shelvers who are up to it. - Jamie LaRue]

I'm writing this on December 30, 1999 (I know, it seems like a millennium ago) in the faith that civilization as we know it will survive long enough to publish this column, and for you to read it.

Putting up web pages isn't the most important thing we do, or even the most useful. But it's newer than many of our other services, so I keep a sharp eye on it. We have a built-in 'counter,' which tells me what people look at. I've spent some time the past couple of days thinking about the data, and trying to glean from it how best to manage this new library resource.

About a hundred years ago in some rural, illiterate areas of Russia, folks had an odd way of insuring that important events were remembered.

Let's say an emissary of the Czar visited. The leader of the village would choose a 4 or 5 year old child, then box his ears. When the child would cower, cry, and protest, the leader would repeat, "In 1889 the czar's emissary visited our village!"

You shake your head. But trauma works. All his life, the boy would remember what he was supposed to remember.