Tangible Used Bookstore Brings New Charm to Bridgeport
Old Books, New Hope
Old books never die; they just take on a particular smell. You can follow that smell down to 3324 South Halsted where Joseph Judd and his wife Lisa opened Tangible Books about four months ago. They are still setting up—the basement is next on the list—but the couple and the many, many book lovers who have already become regulars consider it “open enough.”
Judd scoffs at the notion people aren’t reading physical books anymore. He pays particular attention to his vast Young Adults section, in fact, because he said that folks in that age group are the most voracious readers. For example, when we arrived to interview him on a recent Friday evening, the last customer seemed reluctant to leave the unique magic of a store like this, a warren of hardcovers and paperbacks that you could get lost in for hours — without cell reception because the bookshelves are so high they block the signals.
But then Judd has the kind of optimism that flakes off like glitter and attaches itself to you. He decides to do things, does them, and makes them work. He has not advertised outside of the neighborhood, he has no business model, and says the people of the neighborhood control the store, from the inventory they themselves bring in to determining the hours, which are loosely set from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m.
“If you expect to have a business and have the neighborhood support your business, you have to do what the neighborhood wants you to do,” he said.
A native Chicagoan from the southwest side, Judd studied clinical psychology in graduate school. But after working in the field for a while, he decided he’d rather spend his time doing the things he enjoyed.
“And the only thing I did was I gardened and I read,” he said. “And so I thought, well, you're not going to make money gardening so maybe I’ll have a bookstore.”
That bookstore was Myopic Books, a Wicker Park Institution. Judd owned it for 20 years before selling it to — literally — buy the farm. The area had changed during those decades, transforming, in Judd’s view, from a neighborhood to a shopping destination. A place where you couldn’t buy groceries or get shoes fixed, but you could snap up a $300 pair of shoes.
That’s when the farm happened, and the second bookstore. But the lure of Chicago reeled Judd, Lisa and their two daughters back, as did Ed Marszewski, a friend from the Wicker Park days and the architect of Bridgeport’s Community of the Future initiative. Marzewski convinced the skeptical Judd that the neighborhood was ready for a bookstore.
“We came up here and looked around,” Judd said. “And, you know, I thought maybe, maybe this might work. And Ed's absolutely right.”
The collection of used books at Tangible is immense; it could restock the ancient library of Alexandria and holds all the knowledge we will need when the internet is gone. Most of the stock came up with Judd from Central Illinois, where he and Lisa operated Bob’s Bookstore. Before that, the family operated an organic farm in rural Arkansas where they were the go-to for produce and goat manure.
At Tangible, customers come in from the nearby restaurants and cafes, or just call to tell Judd a bookstore is just what the neighborhood needs. Passersby pause at the hand-made bookcase parked on the sidewalk before the storefront to examine choice picks from the stock. Judd stressed that they don’t say Bridgeport, but rather my neighborhood.
That’s a sign, he said, that folks have a feeling of belonging, something that makes Bridgeport a living community.
“People are just really going out of their way and thanking me for coming here,” Judd said.
“And I've never had that before. And it's just really touching.”
After originally airing on Lumpen Radio, this episode is now available as a podcast. Check it out now!
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