When readers discuss the 25-year-old “Because of Winn-Dixie,” it’s like they’re talking about a book that came out yesterday. In a way, it’s as if it did, since most of them have read the book over and over since its release in 2000.
To celebrate that anniversary, “Winn-Dixie” publisher Candlewick Press, Red Balloon Bookshop and Riverview Theater have put together a Tuesday screening of the 2005 movie version of the story of Opal, a Florida girl who moves to a small town with her preacher father and meets a dog, Winn-Dixie, who seems to have a magical ability to unite people and solve problems.
“Winn-Dixie” writer and Minneapolis resident Kate DiCamillo will introduce the adaptation of her debut book, which won a Newbery Honor, and answer questions afterward.
Peggy Weber of Inver Grove Heights will be there with her daughter and two grandchildren. Now a Realtor, she’s a former principal of Osceola Elementary in Wisconsin who still has vivid memories of DiCamillo’s visit to the school.
“She comes in with that big smile and those dimples and that energy and authenticity she has with kids,” recalled Weber. “She really understood who her audience was and how to communicate a story and develop characters. I have to tell you that some of my staff members — I mean, she’s a rock star among the staff I had at the time — we continued to follow her career: ‘Oh Kate has another book’ and were gaga about them.“
Marcia Dressel, who was the librarian at Osceola then, is dazzled by the honesty with which “Winn-Dixie” addresses difficult topics, including alcoholism and absent parents. As a result, she became what she describes as a low-key “stalker,” reaching out to the author.
Even so, one day in 2001 when she was reading to students, she was surprised to get a message to report to the office for a phone call. It was DiCamillo, agreeing to an Osceola appearance that, to this day, remains a mic drop for Dressel.
“I try not to brag too much but we talk about author visits among librarians, and when I say, ‘We had Kate DiCamillo,’ they all go quiet. I’m not sure they believe me,” said Dressel, who now lives in Dresser, Wis.