I was working at home on Sunday when an urgent email came through from Jane Gronau, the director of our Visitors Center. “We’ve got a building full of visitors,” she wrote; “WHERE IS THE LINOTYPE?????” She had good reason to resort to the upper case: how do you misplace a 4,500-pound behemoth that happens to be last surviving Yiddish Linotype on earth? What Jane didn’t know – a slight breakdown in communication – was that last Friday afternoon we had called in riggers to move the machine: from the exhibit room where it’s been admired by visitors for the past 12 years to the main floor of our existing book repository, where it will anchor a new, 10,000-square-foot permanent exhibition. We had a carpenter on hand to take down part of a sheet-rock wall – the machine was too big to extricate otherwise – and all went well until the riggers jacked it onto an all-terrain forklift, drove it around the outside of the building, and tried to maneuver it back in at the other end, onto the repository floor. The reach proved too long and the Linotype too heavy, the back wheels of the forklift lifted off the ground, and we had no choice but to back off and consign the venerable machine to a temporary storage container in the parking lot. We’ll try again in two weeks, once a heavier forklift arrives on site.