The Encyclopedia Was Our Google — And Dad Was Our Search Engine

You know you’re not a digital native when the word “research” makes you smell paper and hear the satisfying thud of a heavy book landing on a table. Welcome to my childhood, where curiosity was rewarded not with Wi-Fi, but with a stack of alphabetically-organized mystery bricks called encyclopedias.

Let me take you back. The year? Somewhere in the analog era. The place? Our living room, where we had the entire Bertelsmann encyclopedia collection proudly displayed like it was the crown jewel of human knowledge. We didn’t just own knowledge—we subscribed to it. One glorious volume arrived each month, like an academic advent calendar for nerdy children. Volume “A” to “Z,” with deep sighs of longing in between.

I swear, I still remember the day Volume “P” arrived. I rushed to the mailbox like I was expecting a letter from a secret admirer. Nope. Just got the lowdown on Photosynthesis and Peru. But did that stop me from doing a dramatic reading of it over dinner? No, it did not.

My father—bless his analog heart—was our household’s search engine. You wanted to know something? You didn’t "Google it." You "Go-Ask-Dad-It." And then Dad would launch into his signature move: rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then walking over to the encyclopedias like he was Gandalf consulting the archives of Minas Tirith.

“Ah yes,” he’d say, pulling down the appropriate volume. “Let’s look under ‘C’ for comet,” or whatever I had asked about, probably prompted by a cartoon or a weird-shaped cloud.

And then, like magic, the pages would turn. Cross-references would be consulted. We might even pull out a second volume if the first one said, “See also: Gravity.” Ooh, it was a multi-volume kind of night.

I still remember how exciting it felt. The hunt! The discovery! The slight paper cuts! Research was an adventure, not a five-second scroll down Wikipedia followed by a 90-second TikTok spiral. (Though let’s be honest, I can fall down a TikTok spiral with the best of them. But that’s another blog post.)

The encyclopedia taught me more than facts. It taught me patience, curiosity, and the thrill of knowledge that didn’t blink at you with cookie permissions and 17 pop-up ads. And Dad taught me how to chase answers—to flip pages, follow trails, and enjoy the journey.

So now, as a writer, when I go down a research rabbit hole (and I do—like, “did they have deodorant in 1863?” or “how long does it take to poison someone with nutmeg?”), I sometimes channel that younger me. The kid sitting cross-legged on the carpet, flipping through Bertelsmann’s finest, pencil in hand, asking Dad:

“Can we look up ghosts next?”

And of course, he’d say yes.

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