Although a constant personal correspondent by email and snail, I rarely write letters to the editor. I do read several papers every day, both hard copy and online. But now, I often only scan and skim, flinching at the news.

A recent low-voltage headline in the New York Times caught my eye: “Biden Has Raised Little of What He Needs to Build a Presidential Library.” One of those quoted — a disgruntled prior “longtime Democratic donor” — said, “He’ll be lucky to have a bookmobile.” The comment set me thinking. After breakfast, I wrote to the editor post haste (well, emailed virtual post haste).

I told the editor that we’d all be lucky if Joe Biden chose to have a bookmobile and then explained myself (to the extent possible, given the paper’s strict 250-word limit). I hit “send.” An immediate automated reply advised me, with “regret,” that due to high volume, I should expect no further communication unless my letter was selected for publication. Accustomed to submitting fiction manuscripts for publication, the tone and odds were familiar.

Unsurprisingly, only one letter appeared in response to the story. Also no surprise, it wasn’t mine. So much is happening now. Disasters of every type have become routine events; daily headlines seem ripped from dysphoric fiction. The small matter of a lackluster response to fundraising for the former president’s library likely generated neither much comment nor merited much space. But since my own editor here at the Independent grants “Girl Writing” this bi-monthly platform (and a more generous word count), permit me to elaborate. Thank you in advance for your attention, Dear Reader.

Yes, I believe we’d all be lucky if President Biden chose to have a bookmobile. Better yet, a fleet of them. The Presidential Library-on-Wheels, aka the Biden-Mobile, could include a selection of history titles and replicas of significant documents. If he was feeling truly democratic, Mr. Biden might reach out for suggestions from colleagues and associates and curate a collection including various points of view.

The driver-librarian would offer a stack of pocket-sized U.S. Constitutions as giveaways at the check-out desk, as well as bookmarks with quotations from historic speeches by political and civic leaders from our founding to the present. Most essential would be a low shelf stocked with books introducing young readers to the principles and practices of democracy.

Bookmobiles are special. I know. I remember. Growing up in suburbanized Maryland farmland outside of Washington, DC, we had no library within walking distance. So the Montgomery County library system dispatched bookmobiles to the schools. Bookmobile Day was a much-anticipated event. Books by special delivery, a personal invitation to read! Grade by grade, we were excused from class (a treat for readers and reluctant readers alike) and lined up, waiting our turn to clamber up the high steps and enter the bulky blimp. I wanted to hide, stow away, and ride the route.

Years later, one of my school friends lived out my dream, driving a bookmobile route through the Blue Ridge Mountains. The storytelling daughter of bookstore owners, she was welcomed by her patrons like Glinda the Good. Though my own urban kids could walk to the library, in summer they sometimes stayed a week or two with grandparents in the foothills of the Alleghenies in rural Pennsylvania. When the bookmobile came to the village at the foot of the ridge, it was an occasion worth calling home to Maryland about. Yes, I realize a Presidential Bookmobile might not be quite the same draw as a fireworks show or a parking-lot carnival, but if it shows up, they will come.

And really, do we need another brick-and-mortar monument to the ambition and ego requisite of all successful aspirants to the Oval Office? Do we want another edifice that can only be visited by those with the inclination, time, and resources to travel?

Besides, if a former president wants to be long remembered by a library, why gamble on a physical repository of documents (fewer and fewer) and digital archives (more and more)? As I write, the White House, the so-called People’s House, is being bulldozed, rebuilt, and gilded. The Kennedy Center, a living memorial dedicated to JFK and the arts, has been usurped, re-named, and defaced. Audiences and performers alike are eschewing its marble halls and red carpets. Even the Washington Opera seeks a new home.

So, instead of building a pyramid-like tomb stocked with his awards and artifacts, a former commander-in-chief truly desiring to be remembered for good works and lauded for stewardship of our founding principles could actively reach out to everyone via a fleet of bookmobiles. Any ex-president who — inevitably, as is the case for every president — didn’t accomplish all he hoped, who disappointed himself and others, might take a page out of Andrew Carnegie’s book. Remember him? The infamous robber baron/philanthropist funded 1,600 libraries nationwide.

Many of those Carnegie Libraries are gone now; all libraries are stressed and vulnerable in multiple ways. And there are still many American communities, urban as well as rural, with no library at all. This is a moment, an opportunity, to meet a need and create an enduring legacy.

Mr. Biden can’t raise enough money to build a presidential library? Make lemonade out of lemons. In fact, have a lemonade stand! Bring on the libraries-on-wheels, the presidential bookmobiles stocked with history. Bring ideas and ideals to all, especially the flown-over, the marginalized, the children.

Yes, we’d all be fortunate if President Biden could only have a bookmobile.

Ellen Prentiss Campbell’s collection of love stories is Known By Heart. Her collection Contents Under Pressure was nominated for the National Book Award; her novel The Bowl with Gold Seams won the Indy Excellence Award for Historical Fiction. Frieda’s Song was a finalist for the Next Generation Indie Book Award, Historical Fiction. Blogging as “Girl Writing” in the Independent bi-monthly, she lives in Washington, DC. For many years, Ellen practiced psychotherapy. Her new novel, Vanishing Point, will appear in spring 2026.