Because there is traditionally no obituary section in The Maroon, I have decided to make an impromptu obituary out of my Life and Times column due to a recent loss that has affected countless New Orleanians.
I have never written an obituary, and quite frankly I have not read many in my lifetime, but I will try my hand at it just the same as I feel that someone must at least attempt to memorialize the life which was lost. I hope that whatever amateur mistakes I may make will not take away from the honor with which I wish to commemorate the deceased.
The death of Borders bookstore was announced just a few days ago. Many may have seen the tragedy coming, as the business had been in poor health for quite some time, but it has been an unfortunate loss nevertheless. The New Orleans Borders was born in December 2008, after hurricane damage forced the funeral home that was there before out of business.
Experts have announced the cause of death to be the poor economy, but some blame is cast on Internet booksellers and e-readers as well. The St. Charles Avenue Borders is survived by the Bluebonnet Boulevard Borders in Baton Rouge. The Metairie Borders, which was also affected by the economy, sadly did not make it either.
In lieu of these tragic circumstances, I have prepared a few words in honor of the once-great bookstore that is no longer with us.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the Life and Times section of the Loyola Maroon, to celebrate the life of the Borders bookstore, which until recently was located at 3338 St. Charles Avenue. After only two years and about four months of precious life, you, Borders bookstore, were taken from us.
In human years, you would have just become a toddler. In dog years, you would have recently become a teenager. I am unsure if there is some sort of going rate for converting bookstore years into human years, but I am completely certain that you were taken from us too soon.
Perhaps if I had known that our time together would have been cut short, I would have given you more of my time and attention. Perhaps I would have visited you more, even stopped in for more visits when I had no intention of buying anything because I cannot afford to drop $20 every time I have the urge to buy a graphic novel.
If I could go back in time, maybe I would go back and spend the extra money at your establishment (but probably not because I am a poor college student, and buying used books just makes more sense for me). But let’s not spend our time dwelling on what might have been.
Borders, I could always count on you to be there for me when I needed a book that I was unable to find at a local used bookstore and that I was too impatient to buy off the Internet and have shipped to me. You were truly a great corporate bookstore, and you will be missed.
Farewell, Borders, we barely knew ye.
Holly Combs can be reached at
