While walking down Center Street in Healdsburg, California, I noticed a poster alongside a door that caught my eye: “The Library of Shipwrecked Books”. The light shown through the small doors opening, the tree shadows danced along the bottom of the staircase, seemingly inviting us in. While we had plans to arrive at a wine tasting, I insisted we go inside and take a quick look around. We ascended the book lined stairs with various framed artworks that hung along the right wall. Atop the stairs, a room filled with books to the left pulled us in. As we entered you could hear a woman on the street, “Bob, you’ve got some visitors!”

A thin elderly man with a baseball cap shortly joined us as we meandered through the vast, eclectic collection. After a few moments having been seated in his chair observing, he stated “If only they made a device to call your phone back to you once losing it, the best I can do is turn all the lights off and search around with a flashlight, honing in my search.” having left the shop moments earlier to retrace his steps in finding his lost phone that was in his car.

He commented on the lacing of my tall boots, I told him they’re my favorite and he mentioned how mens hiking shoes were a nuisance to put on nowadays. We discussed the low effort in production, materials and overall devalue of “things”. Which naturally led into our shared love of aesthetics, vintage, and items that’ve been discarded or forgotten. Two nostalgic archivists meeting at opposite ends of age and life.

He then quickly got up and asked if I was familiar with Mapplethorpe, presumably as he saw me photographing everything during our conversation. We walked to a smaller room full of papers and works scattered along the desk, walls and floor. Mapplethorpe was a male photographer whom never photographed women until he had published Some Women, Bob now sharing his copy with me.

We followed him into another adjacent room, observing the differences in collections throughout. This one felt more personal, a vest hung in direct eye contact as you enter. He began telling us a story about his life, being that he is one of nine siblings. He managed to move to California despite familial pressures, a black sheep ahead of his time.

He was unsure on which direction to take though he had an interest in the arts. In his first few weeks of moving, he decided to paint this vest and later that week while wearing it, a man had came up to him and asked, “Is that a Vanderpoel??” Bob then opened a nearby book showing us the same exact face that was painted onto his vest. He was using John Vanderpoel as a reference but in that moment of someone recognizing the reference thinking it was the original artists’ work, he knew he was in the place he was meant to be.

We discussed at length everything and nothing. Had I been alone, Bob and I would have gone through every piece in his archive along with the many stories he has to tell. And if the door is open, it is your brief chance to connect with such a wonderful human being and his lifelong collection.

Address: Upstairs next to Mr. Moon’s on the plaza; Healdsburg, CA

Entry: Up a flight of 28 steps, each lined by a book

Hours: Unofficial and informal, open when Bob is in and the door is unlocked

Online Presence: None, Bob operates without a website or active social media

The Library of Shipwrecked Books: The Bob Johnson Art Gallery